


Changes Everything

by Maiasaura



Series: Changes Everything Universe [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Race Changes, Aromantic, Asexual Character, Asexuality, Bisexual Character, Bisexuality, Canon Character of Color, Canon Queer Character, Canon Queer Character of Color, Coming of Age, Depression, Drug Use, F/F, F/M, Female Character of Color, Gen, Genderqueer, Heavy Angst, Homosexuality, M/M, Major Original Character(s), Multi, Nonbinary Character, Novel, Other, Pansexual Character, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Queer Themes, Queerplatonic Relationships, Self-Harm, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Suicide Attempt, Swearing, Teenagers, Trans Character, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-04
Updated: 2017-02-12
Packaged: 2018-03-16 09:23:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 130
Words: 975,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3482945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maiasaura/pseuds/Maiasaura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The shorthand is the Butterfly Effect. A butterfly can flap its wings in Peking and in Central Park you get rain instead of sunshine." ~ Ian Malcolm, Jurassic Park   </p><p>Harry Potter was, in the end, blessed to have relatives other than the Dursleys on his mother's side. Growing up with the Johnsons allowed him to know familial love he would not have known otherwise. But this has changed more than his home life before Hogwarts. In the end, a single person can, in fact, drastically change how events play out. A small change here, a small change there, and eventually, you get a drastically different story.   </p><p>This is the story of Harry Potter, Maggie Johnson, their friends, and how they in the end, changed their very world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue: All Saint's Day, 1981, The Nest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "And I am done with my graceless heart
> 
> So tonight I'm gonna cut it out and then restart
> 
> 'Cause I like to keep my issues drawn
> 
> It's always darkest before the dawn"
> 
> ~ Florence and the Machine, "Shake it Out"

Albus Dumbledore couldn’t help but notice that the place looked like an overgrown tree house. A log cabin perched upon tall columns, nestled amongst a heavy wooded area. The house was at least up two stories from the ground. It was surrounded on all sides by an extensive forest preserve that, on further inspection, was thicker than even the Forbidden Forest. Upon further reflection, Albus decided that it was the perfect house for the couple.

He was an older man, but that did not make him frail in the slightest. He was of medium height and relatively slender build, with slightly khaki colored skin and snow-white hair. His eyes sparkled like the clear, star-filled night sky above him, though with light blue color, hidden behind oval shaped glasses. He wore robes of deep purple, and a pointed hat of a similar color, to cover up the slowly growing bald spot on the top of his head. He was not vain, per-say, but to say he was fine with the spot would be a lie.

Dumbledore continued to walk up to the house, heading up the rickety wooden steps. The house was still “in progress,” as it only had one floor at the time, with the most basic of amenities. The couple was fine with this when they only had one child; but Albus also knew that this was not a permanent condition; eventually, they would need to expand. But for now, they were all cramped together.

A pang of guilt entered him as he reached the door, recognizing the burden he was about to place on them. In the end, though, this was the only safe and happy alternative for them all. As he paused outside of it, he could hear two voices conversing calmly. One of the voices had a deep, rough male Chicagoan accent. The other, in stark contrast, was feminine, with a low-pitched but smooth, thick Scottish accent.

“I’m simply saying, once we add the second floor we’ll be more than ready, Nathaniel,” the female commented, “We’re handling Maggie alright, and we always wanted two children, maybe three.”

“Melinda, I’m not saying we’re not ready, I’m saying I don’t want to bring another child into this world while You-Know-Who is still at large,” Nathaniel sighed.

“We don’t know when he’ll be defeated, and I don’t want to put off our family because of him. That shows how much power he truly has over us,” Melinda replied stubbornly, “What happened to the man brave enough to leave behind his whole entire country and family just to marry a girl from Scotland?”

“He’s been living with her for a few years now in a country that wants to kill him, his wife, his daughter, and everyone his wife loves,” Nathaniel shot back. There was an awkward pause.

“I’m not saying never. I’m not even saying that I regret having Margaret, or that I regret being here with you and fighting against You-Know-Who. I would never regret all that. I just… want to be cautious with our second child, that’s all. We’ve gone into _hiding_ , Melinda. Surely that has to count for something in your decision,” Nathaniel clarified calmly.

“I know,” Melinda sighed, “I am just… not pleased that we have.”

“Lily and James have been in hiding for a year. It was about time we followed suit, you being the closest person to Lily and all,” Nathaniel soothed.

“It’s just a frustrating reality to live in, that of we’re in hiding and can’t just go out as we please, say to Braemar or even over to Aberdeen,” Melinda mumbled sadly.

“Oh please, not being able to go to the village is a blessing. I never understand what they’re saying over there, they all speak Gaelic,” Nathaniel scoffed.

“Everyone at Braemar does _not_ speak…”

“They most definitely do. Anyway, have you heard from Lily recently? She was supposed to check in with us yesterday.”

“I haven’t heard from much anyone lately, actually. Since we went into hiding last month all I’ve had is a solitary letter from Dumbledore and another from Lily, both a while ago,” Melinda paused, “But you’re right, we should have heard from her yesterday. Should we get worried?”

“In a normal world? No. In our world? Yes.”

“Great,” Melinda sighed, “Now I’m worried. My cousin…”

At that moment, Dumbledore decided it was the proper time to knock on the front door and announce his presence. The two inside went completely silent and he knew he had terrified them in that instant.

“It’s me, Albus,” Dumbledore called calmly.

“Prove it,” Nathaniel shouted back, “What was it you said to Melinda when she decided to marry me?”

“It’s cruel of you to bring an innocent American into our troubles,” Dumbledore replied smoothly, a slight smile on his face.

“That’s right, let ‘im in,” Melinda laughed. The door opened and Dumbledore faced the young couple. Melinda was of medium height and curvy build, with long, thick dark red hair and almond shaped bright green eyes, and extremely pale skin. Nathaniel was tall, of stocky build, with dark brown and shaggy, dark brown hair, and richly colored, dark reddish-brown skin.

“Hello Albus,” Melinda smiled, “How are you?”

“I’m afraid I have bad news, Melinda. But we should wait for…” Dumbledore paused as another, also Scottish voice rang out, “Alright, I’m here.”

A tall, stern woman walked up the endless number of stairs to the house. She was very thin, with pinkish pale skin, and taupe colored hair tied back in a severe bun.

“Hello, Minerva,” Dumbledore and Melinda said in unison.

“Hello, hello. You haven’t heard yet, Albus tells me, because you’ve been in hiding,” Minerva sighed, “But it’s happened. Our worst fear.”

“What, what?” Melinda looked between the two older people in confusion and dread. Nathaniel walked up behind her and gently put his hand on her shoulder, squeezing it comfortingly.

“Lily and James have been killed,” Albus stated calmly, “I’m so sorry.”

Melinda let out a sob and put her hands in front of her face, “No!”

“Yes,” Minerva sighed, “I am sorry too, Melinda. Obviously we all loved Lily, and you most of all.”

Melinda nodded, tears flowing down her face, “It was You-Know-Who that did it?”

“Yes,” Albus sighed.

“What happened to their boy? Harry?” Nathaniel asked calmly, “You told me he was the one You-Know-Who was after, in the end.”

“He’s alive,” Albus murmured.

Melinda and Nathaniel looked at Dumbledore as if he was insane. Perhaps what he was.  

“You-Know-Who kills two fully grown, fully able wizards and leaves the baby alone? I don’t believe it,” Melinda whispered.

“He didn’t leave him alone. Harry survived, and Voldemort has been destroyed,” Dumbledore stated calmly.

“What?!” Melinda and Nathaniel gasped.

“It is a complicated story, though the short version is that Voldemort didn’t set out to kill Lily. She died, unnecessarily, to protect Harry. Because she did, she protected him, and he was shielded from Voldemort’s killing curse. It rebounded, and now Voldemort is gone. This all happened yesterday,” Dumbledore explained calmly.

Melinda and Nathaniel looked at each other in amazement.

“Is he dead? Voldemort?” Nathaniel asked, his voice rather shaky.

“The Ministry- your employers, Melinda- will want you to think so. But I do not agree,” Dumbledore answered, his eyes narrowing, “I believe he’s been weakened, and we can expect him back. Maybe not now, maybe not a decade from now, but he’ll be back.”

“We are certainly in a time of relative peace now, though,” Minerva interjected, “That much can be agreed upon.”

“Yes,” Dumbledore nodded, “Yes. I do believe he’ll be gone for some time.”

“What will happen to the boy?” Melinda asked quietly.

“Well, I was hoping you could take care of him. Because his mother died to protect him, her blood will protect him for a long while- until he comes of age, he will be protected, at least in part, from Voldemort, at least at home. You are related to his mother, and I believe your care would be preferable to that of her sister, Petunia, and her muggle family, don’t you?” Dumbledore asked.

Melinda nodded, along with Nathaniel, “Of course we’ll take him.”

“Where is he?” Nathaniel asked.

“Hagrid has him, he’s bringing him over,” Dumbledore answered.

“Do you really think it wise, Albus? To trust Hagrid with something as important as this?” Minerva asked calmly.

“I would trust Hagrid with my life,” Dumbledore responded calmly.

“As would I,” Melinda agreed.

Nathaniel looked skeptical, but in the next moment a large rumble could be heard outside of the house. Rather than allow the large man walk up the rickety steps, Melinda led the party down the long steps to the ground below. And Hagrid was indeed a large man, at least one and a half times as tall as one and most definitely wider than expected. He had a deep, dark complexion, with long curly black hair and an equally long and curly black beard. His eyes were brown and almost as sparkly as Dumbledore’s.

“’Ere he is, Dumbledore, Melinda,” Hagrid greeted, carrying a small bundle in his arms. Nathaniel came down with a small toddler, with dark brown hair and dark reddish brown skin to match his own. Her eyes were like her mother’s, brilliantly green and almond shaped. She looked around the woods curiously, finally looking up at the sky with a laugh.

“Still can’ believe it about Lily an’ James,” Hagrid sobbed as he handed the bundle to Dumbledore, “Right tragic, it is.”

“You’re right, Hagrid,” Melinda murmured, “But there’s nothing to be done but move forward.”

“You’re right,” Hagrid nodded, “Forgettin’ meself is all. Good to see you, Melinda, Nathaniel.”

“I expect we’ll be seeing each other more often,” Nathaniel smiled.

“That’s the other thing I wish to ask of you, and I believe this shall be more of a burden on you two,” Dumbledore sighed. Melinda and Nathaniel looked at him wearily, the young girl at Nathaniel’s side looking up at Hagrid with wide, curious eyes.

“What, Dumbledore?” Melinda sighed.

“I wish for you to shield Harry from the wizarding world until he receives his Hogwarts letter,” Dumbledore commanded mournfully, “And as a result, your children as well. They may know magic, obviously, and that you two are a witch and a wizard. But I do not want Harry to grow up in a world where he is a hero for something he couldn’t control. That is too much pressure and fame for a young boy. I know it will be difficult, but all I ask is that you shield him from all of that.”

Melinda glared at Dumbledore, “Are you sure that it’s a good idea to keep him isolated that long? To keep Margaret isolated that long as well? I don’t see the logic.”

“Well think about it Melinda,” Minerva paused, “Everyone in the Wizarding World is going to know that boy’s name. He’s going to constantly be barraged by people, recognized on the streets; people will worship him from this moment on. And the pressure!”

“I see where they’re coming from, Mel,” Nathaniel sighed, “Everyone will expect him to be more than he is. He won’t be able to be a kid.”

Melinda frowned for another minute, before nodding. She turned back to Dubmledore and asked, “And our jobs?”

“It’s alright, Melinda,” Nathaniel paused, “I can run the Apothecary from home, sending owls out to my employees. Owls are alright, Dumbledore?”

“Yes,” Dumbledore nodded, “I of course know there are some things you can’t hide them from, and that is one of them. And obviously you can go visit your family in America, Nathaniel.”

“Will I be able to continue my work at the Ministry? As a diplomat?” Melinda sighed.

“You may, the Minister has approved it through correspondence until you return to the Wizarding World. I am sorry, Melinda,” Dumbledore sighed.

“That’s fine,” Melinda paused, folding her arms across her chest, “Be glad we’re alright with this, Dumbledore.”

“I know you two are reasonable but this is beyond my hopes,” Dumbledore paused, “And I thank you profusely.”

“Ah, it’s alright,” Melinda sighed as she stepped forward and took the bundle of baby from Dumbledore’s arms, “We’ll see you lot in ten years or so.”

“Also, another thing. Concerning who you write to,” Dumbledore paused, “It might interest you to know that Severus Snape has switched over our side, and has my complete trust.”

Melinda and Nathaniel both raised their eyebrows.

“You sure, Albus?” Melinda frowned, “I know Severus very well, but even I wouldn’t…”

“I am absolutely sure, Melinda, and please don’t question me on it again,” Dumbledore stated, “Shall we go, Minerva, Hagrid?”

The two nodded and all three stepped out on to the path leading up to the house. Minerva looked down at the baby’s face. He had pale skin with rose undertones, a lot of messy, black hair, and a lightning bolt scar running down his forehead. He was asleep, and happily so, curled up in Melinda’s arms.

“Oh, and Melinda?” Dumbledore called from the road. She looked up at the man immediately.

“Be sure to write,” the twinkle in Dumbledore’s blue eyes could be seen as he spun in midair and disappeared out of sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I am dinolove453 from fanfiction.net. I started this story well back in 2012 and I have to say I still love it. I'm currently undergoing a complete re-edit of the entire story for content, realism, and other aspects that I've changed since the original writing of the first few chapters. I'm editing it on FF.net as well as post it de novo here. I hope you like it! Please leave comments if you can. I tend to be motivated by comments to write more. In this case I'll probably just upload each chapter regularly for a while. Since I'm editing a lot of it, I ask that you don't read it on FF.net yet; when I've updated here, you'll know I've edited the version there.  
> Please comment! Really and truly. A huge reason I stopped updating on FF.net was because I wasn't getting any reviews.  
> Thank you for commenting!


	2. Chapter One: July 15th, 1991, The Nest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It's a new dawn
> 
> It's a new day
> 
> It's a new life
> 
> For me
> 
> And I'm feeling good"
> 
> ~ Muse, "Feeling Good"

Chapter One: July 15th, 1991, The Nest

“Harry James Potter, you’re a right foul git and I hate you,” I shouted at the top of my lungs from the top of the stairs.

“Margaret Natalie Johnson, you’re the best adopted sister in the world and I beg for your forgiveness,” I heard Harry respond from the bottom of the steps, down at the forest ground beneath the house. I scowled further at his apology.

“That’s not going to cut it and you know it!”

“Pleaaaaase Maggie?” Harry begged. He began to walk up the steps, his insanely wild black hair covering his scar and part of his left eye, shielding it over his glasses. He was scrawny and short, where I was taller and a little plump and a little muscular, and my hair was brown and messy. His skin was pale, and mine was a dark shade of russet brown. My facial features were ovular, and his were round. I looked exactly like my dad, but with my mum’s eyes; he looked exactly like his dad, but also with _his_ mum’s eyes, which were the same eyes as _my_ mum’s. In fact, the only way you could tell we were related was because our eyes were identical- almond shaped and green.

“You’re not allowed to walk up those steps until you pay proper homage to your new leader,” I declared, standing proudly.

“I never voted for you,” Harry stuck out his tongue at me.

“See, it’s that kind of attitude that demoted you to the forest floor in the first place,” I laughed, “Come now, I’m the oldest so I get to be Queen and I call the shots. It’s obvious.”

“You’re barely the oldest! You were born in September and I was born in July. You’re not even a year older,” Harry whined, finally up to eye level with me at the deck.

“I’m still older so I’m Queen,” I declared again.

“When do I get to be King?” Harry begged, “I never get to be King in this game.”

“Your birthday’s coming up. You can be King then, I promise,” I swore earnestly. I meant it. He got to be King on his birthday, it was only fair.

“Alright, well I’m bored of this now,” Harry paused, “Want to go explore the forest?”

“Does Elena love to read books?” I laughed, “Wanna get her?”

“She won’t want to come, she’s a chicken,” Harry shook his head, “C’mon, don’t even think about it.”

“Alright, alright,” I grinned and followed Harry down the long meandering steps.

“You two! Come back inside the house!” I suddenly heard my mother shout as we finally got to the bottom. Both Harry and I groaned in unison and began walking, at a much slower pace, up the two flights of wooden steps.

“Remember when these were so rickety we could shake ‘em if we both moved at the same time in the same direction?” Harry commented thoughtfully.

“And we almost fell off so mum had to be a party pooper and make ‘em stronger with magic,” I sighed, “Man, the good ol’ days.”

Elena was waiting for us at the top of the steps. My little sister and Harry’s biological second cousin, adoptive sister, she was born in November, a little over a year after Harry came into our family. She was short and scrawny, like Harry, with dark red hair like our mum, skin like our mum and Harry and the same eyes as the three of us. She hated her hair, though, and begged our mum to change it or dye it black like Harry’s hair. Our mum absolutely refused. She was only eight after all.

“Mum needs to talk to you too. You must be in trouble,” she declared in a singsong voice.

“I don’t remember doing anything wrong within the last day, do you?” I turned to Harry and frowned. He shook his head.

“You’re not in trouble, but if you don’t hurry up you will be,” my mum called from the kitchen.

The house was a two-story log cabin situated on sturdy wooden legs, like a tree house, that was two stories up from the ground. Mum had always thought about adding a third story, but we didn’t really need it. Mum and Dad had their room on the ground floor and Harry and Elena and I shared the huge room on the top. In fact, the top floor was only a bathroom and a large room with windows for walls all along one side, the spiral stairwell situated in the corner. There were no other walls but those that enclosed the bathroom. Mum and Dad had made a magically invisible pipe system for the plumbing from both the bathrooms so it really looked like we were just standing on sticks.

To say I loved it would be an understatement.

We walked inside into the kitchen and living room, looking up at my mother with the most innocent faces we could muster.

“You’re not in trouble! Come to the kitchen table, we need to tell you something. Something that we’ve been keeping from you both- and you, Elena, come back here- for your whole lives,” Melinda sighed.

We walked over to the table and sat down, looking nervously at each other from the corner of our eyes.

“What is it, Aunt Melinda?” Harry finally asked timidly.

“As you know, your father and I are a wizard and a witch,” Mum began, “And you are a wizard, Harry, and you two are witches, Elena and Maggie.”

We all nodded, remembering with smiles times when we accidentally blew up the dinner on purpose, or made the trees grow even thicker around the house, or that time when I saw a fairy and I managed to trap it using my hands and my dad yelled at me for at least an hour.

“Well, there are many, many more witches and wizards in the world. Many more magical creatures and places, too,” Mum sighed.

We both sat there, stunned. I couldn’t form a coherent thought. I legitimately thought we were weirdos living in the woods because we were the only ones in the world like this. Harry, however, recovered quicker than I.

“Why have we never met them?” Harry asked, frowning.

“That’s the other thing we’ve kept from you,” Mum seemed to be unable to stop sighing, “And it’s a long story.”

“Well, clearly you’ve asked us up to tell us,” I shrugged. Mum started to narrow her eyes at me but then seemed to think the better of it, taking a deep breath.

“Well, Harry, as you know, you were brought to us when your parents died, ten years ago,” Mum began calmly, “We’ve always told you they were murdered, but we’ve been evasive on the rest of it, waiting until this moment to tell you about it.”

“Them being murdered is bad enough,” I muttered under my breath.

“Maggie, hold your tongue,” Mum snapped.

“So… what happened?” Harry looked stricken and rather fearful.

“Well, back before you all were born, there was a man. He was about as evil as a man could get, and as powerful as a wizard could be. He was called many names, but he called himself Lord Voldemort,” Mum seemed to shudder a bit at the name before continuing, “Pretty much the entirety of the Wizarding community calls him You-Know-Who.”

“Why?” Harry asked, curious.

“Because we fear his very name, with what he did to everyone,” Dad walked in then, looking more serious than I had ever seen him.

“Alright,” Harry mumbled, though he looked unconvinced. I found myself agreeing with him- why fear the name of a man? It’s just a word.

“At any rate, he gathered followers, other dark witches and wizards to help him. He wanted to rule the Wizarding World and anyone who stood in his way could pretty much count on their eventual death, or at least having to go into hiding,” Mum smiled thinly, “Your dad and I were part of a resistance movement, along with your parents Harry.”

“You, Dad? You’re not British…” I asked in confusion.

“No, but I came to this country for a conference for Apothecaries, as you know, when I was twenty five. Your mum was only eighteen,” Dad smiled over at Mum, who rolled her eyes as Dad continued, “And I fell in love with her immediately.”

“Aww,” Elena cooed while Harry and I made faces of disgust.

“Anyway, I knew I would do anything for her, and when she said she couldn’t leave Britain, not when she had to help fight against You-Know-Who, I agreed to stay. We got married, and in two years had you Maggie. Anyways, I joined mainly for your mother, though I did of course believe in the cause,” Dad nodded.

“We had to go into hiding ourselves, for the role we played in fighting You-Know-Who, but we were only in hiding for a month, and my parents were killed by You-Know-Who’s followers- but that might have been because they were muggles than anything else,” Mum explained, and I remembered she used that term to describe the non-magical people living in the village, “You and your parents, Harry, were in hiding from the moment you were born.”

Harry looked stricken, “Why?”

“Well, your parents were even bigger in the resistance than me and your Uncle. There are other reasons too, of course, but they’re not in my place to tell you,” Mum stated firmly.

“Ok,” Harry murmured. He looked confused and dejected and I glared at my mum almost automatically. She gave me a look and I rolled my eyes, staring up at the ceiling.

“You haven’t done anything wrong, Harry. I just know there’s… well, we’ll get to that,” Mum paused, “Anyway, You-Know-Who eventually found your parents, Harry, and killed them- they didn’t even have a chance when he got there. But when he got to you, something stopped him. He couldn’t kill you, the spell he sent rebounded.”

Harry’s eyes widened and I felt my own do the same.

“The curse rebounded and hit You-Know-Who himself, making him weak enough to have to flee, go into hiding. Many believe he’s dead, but your father and I believe that is ridiculous- he was too powerful to not return from this. But ever since then, our world has been at peace,” Mum explained.

Harry nodded, looking thoughtful, his brow furrowed in concentration.

“But the thing is, Harry, no one had ever survived a killing curse before, no one in all of history. So you… well, you became a legend. Famous, for something that you couldn’t even control!” Mum shook her head, “Known as the Boy-Who-Lived to everyone in our world. A hero.”

Harry’s eyes widened more and he looked overwhelmed.

“Of course, no one wanted you to grow up in that world, that expected too much of you and thought too much of you, while you were still growing and deserved as happy a childhood as you could manage. So your Uncle and I agreed to raise you apart from all of that, in a normal setting, so you could be as well-adjusted as possible,” Mum finished, “And I truly apologize for keeping all this from you.”

Harry frowned, looking at the table and clearly thinking, “So you had to keep it from Maggie and Elena as well?”

“It was only fair,” Mum sighed.

Harry nodded, looking up and determined at Mum, “Well, I understand. And it probably was for the best.”

“Exactly,” Dad smiled a little, “Growing up famous for something you couldn’t control? You’d either be terrified of everything or have the biggest head I’ve ever seen.” He mimed his head expanding to the size of a beach ball.

Elena, Harry and I all burst into giggles.

“Wait, why are you telling me this now? Surely I haven’t done growing up into a well-adjusted person,” Harry frowned.

“I’ll say,” I joked. Harry stepped on my foot in annoyance and I snortedin amusement.

“Well, that’s the thing,” Mum suddenly took two letters that must have come earlier by the owl post from the windowsill. She handed one to me and one to Harry. I looked down at in in amazement, as I don’t think I had ever gotten a letter in my life, and nor had Harry. The envelope was stuffed to the brim, made of the same yellow parchment I always saw mum writing on for work. The address on the outside was written in emerald green ink and read, “Ms. M. Johnson, The Big Room on the Second Floor, The Nest, near Braemar, Scotland.”

“Oddly specific address,” I commented. Harry nodded, showing me the cover of his, which said the exact same thing except it was addressed to Mr. H. Potter.

I turned it over and found a seal on the back, a large letter H surrounded by a coat of arms with a lion, an eagle, a badger, and a snake. I ran my finger under the envelope and opened it curiously. I pulled out the letter and read in amazement,

_HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY_

_Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE (Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Soc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

_Dear Ms. Johnson,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

_Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31._

_Yours sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall,  
Deputy Headmistress. _

I looked at the letter in amazement, looking back up at my parents after finishing, “There’s a _school_ for people like us?”

“Of course there is,” Mum smiled, “There are lots of schools, actually. Uncle Nathaniel went to the Chicago Academy of Magical Arts.”

“Proud graduate, I was. But you three should go to Hogwarts, even I can admit there’s a magical feeling about the place that just can’t be beaten,” Dad smiled.

“And we agreed that we wanted you to be trained at the school, to meet witches and wizards your own age and finally join our world. We could have taught you at home, but we think this is better,” Mum finished.

“And we knew that you’d be getting your letters around now, you have to be eleven on September 1st, the day you get on the train. This means you just barely made Harry’s year, Maggie,” Dad laughed, “Back in the States you would have been in the year above.”

I nodded, looking down at the letter again, “So… what does this mean? Now that we know?”

“Well, I plan on going back to work in the workplace. As you know, I’m an international diplomat- well, I’m a diplomat for our government, the Ministry of Magic, and I fully intend to go back to work there. Your father will still work out of the house until Elena can go to Hogwarts, and then he plans to run the Apothecary from the store itself,” Mum explained.

“And what about us? Do we get to meet your friends that you always write to?” I asked curiously.

“Yes,” Mum smiled, “We were actually planning, if it’s ok with you Harry, to have a little birthday party where we officially reintroduce you guys to the world- mainly your birthday party, of course, but we’ll invite all our old friends over and such.”

“I like it,” Harry beamed.

“And today, we’re going into Diagon Alley- the part of London where all the magical shops are- to get your school supplies,” Dad finished.

“Wait, let me send a letter back to Dumbledore to say you’re going… you two _are_ going, yes?” Mum paused, “It is ultimately your choice.”

“Uh, _yeah_ ,” Harry and I answered in unison. Mum beamed and walked over to our owl, Euclid, and quickly scribbled out two notes.

The day was filled with chaos, new sights and sounds and smells that overwhelmed my siblings and me, but it was absolutely fantastic. Harry and I each got to pick a pet, and we both picked owls- he, a Snowy owl, me, a Great Horned owl. And the wand shop was the strangest place of all, with Harry trying out literally every wand Mr. Ollivander had.

Eventually, he settled on a wand- or I should say, a wand settled on him- that was holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple, but had the feather of the same phoenix that gave Voldemort his wand, which simply amazed me. The wand that picked me was English Oak and Dragon Heartstring, fourteen and a half inches, solid. I knew the moment I held it in my hand that it was literally the perfect wand for me.

We spent the next two weeks eagerly looking at all of our school stuff, simply unable to do much else. Harry finally decided to call his owl Hedwig, while I had already settled to call mine Darwin, despite the name being of a muggle. I’m afraid to say we neglected Elena in this time, as she often came into the big room wanting to play, but we would have our nose in our textbooks and laughing when we found something curious or just odd.

The day of Harry’s birthday was a pure mess- Mum was in a frenzy getting everything ready, Dad was already grumpy (and the day had barely begun,) and Elena seemed rather quiet, shunted to a corner.

Finally, we could hear loud cracks sounding at the edge of the lot, which seemed to mean to Mum that witches and wizards were arriving at the house. I looked over at Harry excitedly, who mirrored my excitement and beamed at me. We both ran out to the front of the house, my ponytail swishing madly behind me as I did so.

We looked down at the ground to see Mum hugging an extraordinarily large man. I looked over at Harry in amazement and back down to watch as the man walked all the way up the stairs to the deck. He had a rich, dark complexion, the color of umber, with wild, long and curly black hair all over his head and face, and twinkling, dark brown eyes.

“Hello! You mus’ be Harry, an’ you mus’ be Maggie,” the man beamed widely down at us, “I’m Hagrid, Keeper of the Keys an’ Grounds at Hogwarts.”

We both looked up at him in amazement. Were all people outside the family this big? We shook his hand and beamed, however, simply excited to meet new people.

“So you two ‘ave finally joined us all, ‘ave you? An’ your sister too, I imagine. Where is Elena? I’ve seen you, before, Maggie but I’ve never seen ‘er,” Hagrid beamed.

Elena came out from her corner by the stairs where she was reading a book, looking shyly up at him.

“Well, you look exactly like yer mum, and Harry’s mum ter boot,” Hagrid laughed, “No surprises. Why, it’s striking.”

Elena smiled a little and shook his much larger hand earnestly. Hagrid stepped back to look at all three of us and beamed behind his large bushy black beard.

“You three look right like yer parents, all three of ya. My, tha’s a sight for sore eyes. I’m so ‘appy ter see you all coming to Hogwarts, it’ll be nice to have yer there. Be sure ter visit me when you ‘ave time off Harry, Maggie- I live in the cottage down on the grounds. We can ‘ave a spot of tea and talk about school,” Hagrid beamed.

“We’d love to,” Harry responded with a large smile. Hagrid continued to beam in response.

“Hagrid, did you _apparate_ here?” Dad suddenly came in, looking at Hagrid as if he had done something wrong. Harry and I looked at each other in curiosity.

“Actually, I side-alonged wi’ Minerva, but she ‘ad ter go back fo’ somethin’,” Hagrid explained. Dad frowned and went back to the kitchen area.

“What’s apparating?” Harry and I asked him in unison. Hagrid laughed.

“Traveling from place ter place by magic- you won’ be doin’ that fer years yet, very advanced stuff tha’,” Hagrid explained.

“Why can’t you do it, then?” I asked curiously.

“Well… ter be ‘onest with you two, I got expelled from Hogwarts in my third year, so I’m not allowed ter do magic really,” Hagrid answered, his blush evident even behind all the hair.

“Oh, it’s alright,” Harry answered, “Sorry for asking, sir.”

“Don’ be calling me sir,” Hagrid laughed, “Not deserving of tha’, am I? But thank you,” he smiled.

“I’ll probably get expelled, to tell you the truth, so no judgement from me,” I beamed.

“You better not get expelled!” Dad shouted. Hagrid laughed.

“Bit of a rebel, are ya? Just the same as yer mum,” Hagrid shook his head, “No surprises there.”

I grinned and Harry elbowed me in the side.

Another crack occurred and we eagerly ran to the deck to look down and see even more people standing there. Hagrid went and began talking to Elena as we rushed down the steps. There was a tall woman dressed in deep green robes with a matching hat- she was older looking and rather stern as well, with glasses. There was another man who looked even more ancient, with a long white beard and long white hair, wearing purple robes with glasses of his own and a twinkle in his bright blue eyes. A third man was already talking to Mum; he had black, long, kind of greasy looking hair, ghostly pale skin, a hooked nose and dark eyes, and he was wearing black robes to match everything else.

“Ah, here they are,” Mum smiled, “Maggie, Harry, these three are going to be some of your professors at Hogwarts. This is Professor McGonagall,” Mum gestured to the woman in green, “Teacher of Transfiguration and head of Gryffindor House. She was one of my favorite professors back when I was in school.”

“Thank you, Melinda,” Professor McGonagall smiled, though it was a very thin one, “Even though you weren’t in my house, you were a very gifted student of Transfiguration and was one of my favorites as well.”

“Houses?” Harry asked with a frown.

“Oh!” Mum looked embarrassed, “Yes, well, Hogwarts has four houses, all students get divided up into them, you see- Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin.”

“Haven’t even explained that yet?” the man in black sneered, “Honestly, Melinda.”

“Well, there’s just so much to explain, I’ve lost track,” Melinda sighed, “Well, you see, Hogwarts was founded by four witches and wizards, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, Godric Gryffindor, and Salazar Slytherin. They each wanted to take in different groups of students based on who they were. Instead of make four different schools, however, they decided to just divide up the students and have houses for each of them based on these traits they valued the most. And, to this day, students are still sorted into houses- obviously people are friends between houses, but your house is really where your family at school is and such.”

“Couldn’t have said it better myself, Melinda,” Professor McGonagall smiled.

“So what are the traits for each house?” Harry asked curiously.

“And what house were you in, Mum?” I asked.

“We can explain all that later, I still have people to introduce,” Mum sighed, “This is Professor Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts,” Mum gestured to the old man in purple robes.

“It’s a real pleasure to see you two again,” Dumbledore smiled at the two of us, his face contorted into a cheery expression that made me feel strangely safe.

“And this is Professor Severus Snape. He’ll be teaching potions and he’s the head of Slytherin house,” Melinda finished, gesturing to the man in black. He looked down at both of us with a slight sneer.

“Nice to meet you, Professor Snape,” Harry held out his hand. Professor Snape seemed to shake his hand rather reluctantly, sneering even harder at him now. I frowned in confusion as he turned to me and shook my hand; his sneer all but disappeared when directed at me.

“Shall we all head up into the house?” Mum suggested as though nothing had happened. We did so, but soon she had to double back as a few more cracks filled the air. I turned around and saw a gaggle more of adults all milling about on the ground.

“Alright, you two come back down,” Mum lead us back as the three Professors reentered the house. We walked downstairs and I felt exceedingly short surrounded by all of the people.

“Here we go, more introductions. This is Remus Lupin, he was a good friend of your dad’s, Harry, and we got to know each other more after school,” Mum introduced us to a man with brown hair but with quite a few greys in it, and a lot of scars along his face. He looked rather shaggy, to be honest, and even a little sickly.

“You look just like your father, Harry,” Mr. Lupin shook Harry’s hand, “Just like him. And you look loads like your father as well, Maggie,” he shook my hand as well.

“I have my mum’s eyes though,” I interjected. My mum groaned but Lupin smiled.

“Well, yes, but everything else, just like your dad. Your mum and I weren’t in the same year or even the same house; she was two years above me and your parents, Harry. But she and your mum were always close and we got to know her over the years,” Mr. Lupin explained.

“What house were you in?” Harry asked curiously.

“Gryffindor, same as your parents,” Mr. Lupin explained, “Shall I go upstairs, Melinda?”

“Yes, everyone’s up there. Sorry that I had to invite Severus,” she muttered the last bit softly under her breath, almost so that we couldn’t hear her.

“Ah it’s alright Melinda, I’m sure we’ll be able to avoid any awkwardness,” and he walked upstairs to the house. The next person who walked up to us was covered, literally covered, in scars that almost made him look like his skin was wooden. He had a glass eye and a peg leg and a chunk blasted out of his nose.

“This is Alastor Moody, who was part of our resistance movement back in the days of the Dark Lord,” Melinda introduced. The man gruffly shook our hands and wobbled up the stairs, seemingly unwilling to talk.

“And these people are Dedalus Diggle, Elphias Dodge, Emmeline Vance, and Mundungus Fletcher,” Mum went through as each of these wizards and the witch all shook our hands, declaring how delighted they were to meet us (especially Harry, though I kind of expected that,) and headed upstairs to the kitchen.

“Here’s Sturgis Podmore, Professor Flitwick- he’ll be your charms teacher at Hogwarts and he’s head of Ravenclaw- Pomona Sprout, your herbology teacher and head of Hufflepuff, Andromeda Tonks, her husband Ted, and their daughter Nymphadora, who just graduated Hogwarts-“

“Don’t _call me_ Nymphadora!” The girl was in her late teens, but very short and tiny, almost like a pixie. She had light, pale skin, and bright, bubble-gum pink hair done up in spikes. She winked at me and Harry before walking up the stairs.

“Professor Slughorn- sorry, Horace Slughorn, he’s retired now, used to be the potions teacher when I went to school there…” Mum looked overwhelmed as so many witches and wizards walked up into our house. I looked over at Harry who looked just as frazzled as I felt.

“Renee Bobbers, a friend of mine from school, and Gerald Avery, the only member of his family who actually fought against You-Know-Who, also my friend from school,” Mum introduced the last of the people as Renee walked upstairs.

“My good for nothing brother and father both joined his followers and decided that it would be best to pretend I didn’t exist,” Gerald smiled, “My twin brother, of all people. But still, Melinda, Renee and I made a good team.”

“Didn’t we just?” Mum beamed.

“Renee and I got married, so you should call her Avery, by the way,” Gerald suggested offhandedly.

“Honestly Gerald, you never write to me, you and Renee. You should have told me!” Mum sighed.

“You were busy,” Gerald laughed, “I think that should be the last of us?”

“Should be,” Mum nodded and led us all upstairs. I turned to Harry in amazement.

“Do you feel as frazzled as I feel?” I asked him.

“If you feel frazzled, than for the love of everything I do,” Harry nodded.

We finally reached the house and I had never, _ever_ , seen the place so crowded. Everyone was mingling and talking and catching up with one another, or eating, or making sure to catch up with my parents. I overheard so many snippets of conversation I could barely breathe.

“Augusta Longbottom couldn’t come?” I heard Professor McGonagall ask Dedalus Diggle.

“No, poor Neville was sick- the day after his birthday, too,” Mr. Diggle answered.

 “You did a fine job raising those kids, Melinda,” Mrs. Avery commented calmly, “Never thought the son of James Potter could be so shy and humble.”

“It really wasn’t so hard, with Maggie being his adoptive sister…” my mum responded. I looked to Harry, who was laughing, and I scowled at him.

“Can’t believe how like Melinda and Lily they are,” I heard Mr. Lupin comment to Professor Flitwick.

“The resemblance is uncanny,” Professor Flitwick, the tiny little man, agreed.

“I would have to disagree,” Professor Snape drolled, still sneering, “The girl might be like her mother, but not nearly as much as the youngest one, and Potter is nothing like…”

“I talked to him for all of two minutes when he came back upstairs and he’s exactly like Lily,” Mr. Lupin retorted. I looked over at Harry, who shrugged in confusion.

The youngest person there- Nymphadora Tonks- then accidentally bumped into Harry.

“Oh, sorry Harry! I’m right clumsy I am,” she stuck out her hand to us both, “Tonks, please call me Tonks.”

“Nice to meet you,” we both smiled, happy to be talking to someone similar to our age.

“Pity we couldn’t go to Hogwarts together, but I expect I’ll see you around. My mum and dad are friends with yours,” Tonks paused, “Don’t cause too much trouble at school, alright? Not like me,” she laughed.

“Of course,” we both lied, grinning at each other.

The party went on for hours and hours, until the late night and everyone was yawning. The last guests finally left, and Elena had already gone to bed, simply having collapsed.

“Well, I’m sorry that was so overwhelming. I underestimated my old mates,” Mum sighed, turning back to Harry and me.

“Aww, it’s alright,” I laughed.

“It was fun to meet so many people!” Harry beamed, bouncing a little on the balls of his feet.

“Well, do you have any questions before you go to bed?” Mum asked as Dad walked around, waving his wand and cleaning everything in sight.

“Well… can you explain houses more to us?” Harry asked timidly.

Mum sighed, “I figured you’d ask that. Well, Gryffindors are known for their bravery- a lot of people who fought against You-Know-Who were Gryffindors, and your parents were as well, Harry. And your dad is pretty sure he’d also be in Gryffindor, Maggie.”

“How?” I asked in confusion.

“Based on my lion like personality,” Dad joked from the kitchen, where he was putting cups into the sink in a neat and orderly assembly line.

Mum rolled her eyes and continued, “Ravenclaw is the house that’s defined by intelligence and creativity. I’ve known many a genius in that house and they’ve always impressed me. Hufflepuff is the house characterized by loyalty and hard working. They had a lot of fighters against You-Know-Who, as well, and you won’t find a better friend than in Hufflepuff. They do often get the short end of the stick, though, since they often seem the ‘left-over’ house.”

“And the last house is Slytherin, which is mainly characterized by people with ambition and self-preservation, people who know what they want and aren’t afraid to get it. Unfortunately, You-Know-Who was from that house, and a lot of his followers were from there,” Mum sighed.

“What house were you in?” I asked. Mum took another deep breath.

“I was also in Slytherin, but there were of course a few good eggs in that house. Renee and Gerald were in my year with me, for example, and we all fought against You-Know-Who as hard as anyone,” Mum explained.

Harry and I nodded, both thinking.

“You don’t know what house you’re in yet so don’t think on it too much,” Mum smiled, “You’ll find out soon enough. Now, off to bed, both of you.”

We headed up the stairs, both exhausted, but ecstatic for the days ahead. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! Like I said, I am just editing a story that I've already written about 2/5ths of. I hope you all enjoy this first real chapter, even though most of it is explanatory (sorry about that.) Please comment!! I really really appreciate them you have no idea. I would love to get good feedback on this story! 
> 
> Shout out to AriadneVenegas for commenting on the Prologue - sorry for not going along with your idea; it was nifty, but again, I've already kind of written the first 34 chapters. 
> 
> [Also, I like having song quotes at the beginning of chapters.]
> 
> Please comment!


	3. Chapter Two: September 1, 1991, Hogwarts Express

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Well I've got thick skin and an elastic heart,
> 
> But your blade - it might be too sharp
> 
> I'm like a rubber band until you pull too hard
> 
> Yeah, I may snap and I move fast
> 
> But you won't see me fall apart
> 
> 'Cause I've got an elastic heart"
> 
> ~ Sia, "Elastic Heart"

Chapter Two: September 1st, 1991, Hogwarts Express

My trainers were old, I could tell immediately as I stared down at them. I had my legs raised up and resting on the seat across from me, so my shoes were in full view. The sneakers were getting a little frayed and I could see a hole in the side of the shoe.

My jeans weren’t much better; a hole had grown in the covering of both of my knees from falling down so many times. My hoodie was actually in all right condition, and I was absent-mindedly rebraiding my hair.

Harry was sitting next to me, sitting in much the same position. He was also wearing ratty jeans and trainers, also worn out from years of playing in the woods. He was wearing a flannel shirt, though, and was waving his wand in the air in front of him.

The train had just started moving and I stared in amazement at the nature outside the window, already impressed at the southern, English landscape and overly excited about our journey back north.

“I’m starving,” Harry commented lightly. I looked over at him and shrugged.

“I dunno what to do about that. Mum and Dad gave me some money to buy food but I don’t know where we’d go,” I laughed.

“Guess we should just wait then,” Harry shrugged. I nodded and started flicking my gum at the window, watching it stick to the side of it and then peeling it off.

“Maggie, don’t vandalize the train, please,” Harry rolled his eyes at me. I stuck my tongue out at him and replied, “I do what I want.”

“We’re going to _school_ , Maggie. You know. A place where your parents aren’t actually in charge of us anymore. Where you can get into real trouble for being an idiot.” Harry was watching me with his eyebrows raised as I finally groaned and stuck the gum underneath the seat. He groaned and buried his face in his hands.

“You know you love me,”I teased, now picking at the chair upholstery. I distinctly heard him mutter, “She’s going to get me killed one day,” as the train continued whirring through the countryside.

“Anything off the trolley, dears?” a kindly voice asked. We both looked up to see an elderly witch pushing a cart filled with all the sweets Mum and Dad would bring back for us when they went out. I felt my eyes widen and the two of us ran up to the cart and picked out our favorites- cauldron cakes, pumpkin pasties, chocolate frogs, drooble’s best blowing gum. Harry beamed at me as we ate, the boy now in a clearly better mood.

“Seriously, you’re always happier when you eat,” I laughed. Harry stuck a now very blue tongue out at me and I slapped him in the arm, laughing.

“I can’t believe we’re going,” Harry commented after a moment. I nodded in earnest agreement.

We continued to fly through the British countryside, which became progressively wilder as we went past. We pulled out our favorite pack of playing cards and sat a little space apart on the seat, occupied for a few more hours as we laughed and ate more sweets than I think we ever had before. Harry couldn’t stop smiling and I knew I mirrored his expression.

At one point I looked up and saw a boy our age looking into the compartment rather curiously, and probably shyly. He was shorter, with somewhat tanned (but still ultimately pale) skin, and round-faced (and, to be honest, round around the middle as well,) with medium-brown hair covering his face and crooked teeth. His eyes were brown, almost identical to his hair in color.

The moment he saw that I knew he was staring his face colored bright red and he scurried away. I frowned, wishing I had followed him. Harry looked up from tying my shoes together while I wasn’t paying attention and saw my expression.

“Maggie?” he asked, looking behind him at the door to the compartment, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” I shook my head, “There was a boy who looked like he wanted to come in, is all.”

“Why didn’t you wave him in? I love you, but I don’t want it to be just the two of us for all seven years,” Harry grinned. I rolled my eyes at him.

“Well if you want us to make friends, you should be the front man I think. I probably will be rude to everyone we meet or something,” I paused, “And I wanted to but he saw I saw he was watching us and ran away in embarrassment.”

“Aww, Maggie, you’re _already_ scaring people off?” Harry groaned, “We’re not even _there_ yet.”

I shoved him in the arm and Harry laughed in amusement. I bent down, trying to salvage the situation with my shoes, as Harry turned to look at the compartment door again. When I looked up, a girl was standing in the doorway. She had very, very bushy brown hair (where mine was thick and straight) a little lighter in color than mine, with bronzed skin like the color of acorns. She had a rather large and round nose and bright brown eyes, though the biggest thing about her was her hair – her height and shape was, almost solely, tiny. She was already wearing the Hogwarts uniform and robes, and appeared to be swimming in it.

“Have either of you seen a toad? Neville’s lost one,” the girl asked, her voice sounding rather bossy. She had a crisp, London accent, and fairly big teeth.

“No, sorry,” Harry replied calmly.

“We can help look if you want,” I offered, feeling guilty about the boy from earlier and wanting to reach out. The girl beamed.

“That would be lovely, we’re having a right time trying to find it. I’m Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you?” Hermione held out her hand to each of us. I could see Harry give me look out of the corner of his eye but I beamed at her anyway.

“I’m Maggie Johnson, and this is my second cousin and adopted brother, Harry Potter,” I introduced proudly. Harry groaned under his breath.

“Are you really Harry Potter?” Hermione gasped, “I know all about you, of course – I got a few extra books for background reading, and you’re in _Modern Magical History_ and _The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts_ and _Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century._ ”

“Am I?” Harry breathed. I smiled slightly at his overwhelmed nature.

“Goodness, didn’t you know, I’d have found out everything I could if it was me,” Hermione rambled.

I finally managed to interject, stating, “Well, we both figured our parents would have told us the really important things… and I was more interested in my Transfiguration book.”

“She was,” Harry agreed, “I think she’s almost finished _Beginner’s Guide to Transfiguration_ , and that’s supposed to last us for a few years yet.”

“I looked at the beginning too, isn’t it fascinating?” Hermione nodded fervently, “I can’t wait to try out everything and really get into the wandwork.”

“I agree,” I smiled, somewhat awkwardly, before returning to the main point, “Let’s go look for that toad, eh?”

“Oh yes, I’ve almost forgotten. All the excitement, you know,” Hermione laughed, “Come on.” We all walked through the corridors, asking compartment after compartment and looking everywhere we could without appearing… well, rude. One compartment looked like they were trying very hard to not laugh at Hermione and her demeanor- it was filled with a bunch of first years, like us, but they were a red-headed, tall and lanky boy with a thousand freckles and light, rose colored skin; a tall thin boy with curly black hair and dark brown, umber colored skin; and a short Irish boy with shaggy brown hair and pale, fawn colored skin. We moved on, not really pausing to get to know them too well, I annoyed with their treatment of Hermione.

We paced up and down the length of the train, I felt, before Hermione finally gasped in defeat.

“I don’t know _where_ that toad is. You two had better change, I expect we’ll be arriving soon,” Hermione suggested.

“We will, what compartment are you in? In case we find Neville’s toad,” I asked calmly.

“Oh, we’re just two doors down from you if you want to visit. Bye Maggie, Harry,” Hermione waved and walked past us down the hall.

Harry glared at me a little as we went into our compartment and started getting dressed. I simply beamed in response.

“We want to make new friends, you said, and I rather like her, even if she’s overwhelming and talks a great deal,” I laughed.

Harry sighed, “Oh all right, I suppose she isn’t _all_ bad. She just seems like a bit of a know-it-all.”

“Well, maybe she won’t be in our house and it won’t matter,” I reassured as we both turned our backs and changed into our school uniforms, me grumbling as I put on the long socks and pinchy shoes and, for that matter, the really annoying tie. I refused to tuck in my shirt, and simply hid it underneath my sweater.

I turned back to Harry and he beamed at me. We grabbed our bags and walked down the corridor, reaching Hermione and Neville’s compartment and entering inside. It was occupied only by the two of them, making me feel rather sad for Neville that he only could attract the friendship of this overly talkative girl, and sad for Hermione that she had scared so many off.

We entered the compartment and I beamed at them, and Harry even managed a weak smile.

“Hello, you must be Neville, owner of the lost toad,” I stuck out my hand for him to shake, which he took timidly, “I’m Maggie Johnson and this is my adopted brother and second cousin, Harry Potter. “

“Harry Potter? Really?” Neville mumbled.

“I’m a bit surprised by it myself,” Harry offered with a kind smile. We sat down in the compartment and Hermione immediately began chattering away again about the books she had read over the summer holidays. Neville looked positively overwhelmed and I managed him a kind smile. He blushed and looked away.

“So, Neville, tell us about yourself,” I managed to interject during a lull in Hermione’s soliloquy.

“Well, been livin’ with me Gran since I was little,” Neville stammered, “Didn’t show much magical ability until I was thrown off a second story window and bounced on the ground. Was completely surprised I got to go to Hogwarts.”

I smiled sympathetically, “If it’s any consolation, Harry and I didn’t even know it existed until last July.”

“Really?” Neville gasped, wide-eyed.

“Yeah, my parents wanted Harry to grow up well-adjusted and not, you know, egotistical,” I finished.

“Smart of them, really,” Hermione agreed.

We continued to chat as the train finally began to slow into the station, coming to a halt as we all scrambled out onto the platform. We walked out there and saw Hagrid standing in front of all the students, smiling and beaming at everyone.

“Firs’ years! Firs’ years over here!” he called cheerfully to all of us. We all finally managed to congregate around him as he continued, “C’mon, follow me – any more firs’ years? Mind yer step, now! Firs’ years follow me!”

We all followed Hagrid down a wet, slippery path. It was extremely dark and lined with trees. I breathed in deeply- the nature, the air, the sense of wildness filled me up and comforted me, though I could tell Neville was rather overwhelmed by everything. Harry was also in awe, though not as much as I was; and Hermione was bouncing up and down in excitement.

“Yeh’ll get yer firs’ sight o’ Hogwarts in a sec,” Hagrid declared over his shoulder, “jus’ round this bend here.”

The castle was… amazing. We were situated on the edge of a ginormous lake, which was much too large for my tastes, as swimming had never been my forte. The castle was perched atop a high mountain on the other side of the lake, with many towers and turrets and sparkling windows and it simply looked like it was trying to touch the edge of the sky.

“No more’n four to a boat!” Hagrid ordered, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore. Harry, Hermione, Neville and I easily climbed into one, Harry now grinning from ear to ear at me and I couldn’t help but return the expression. Neville looked dumbfounded and Hermione was also smiling wider than I thought she could.

“Everyone in?” Hagrid shouted, who had a boat to himself, “Right then – FORWARD!”

The boats moved all together as one, going across the perfect lake.

“I can’t believe it, Harry,” I whispered as we continued on to an underground harbor.

“This is the best place ever,” Harry agreed.

“It’s just… amazing,” Hermione whispered behind us. Neville appeared speechless.

“I want to explore all these forests,” I mumbled. Harry nodded fervently in agreement.

As we climbed out onto the rocks and pebbles of the cavern that served as a harbor, Hagrid walked up to us and handed us something from one of the boats, “Oy, you there! Is this your toad?”

Neville eagerly grabbed onto the toad and held to it for dear life. He looked at me shyly as I observed him, explaining, “His name’s Trevor.”

We walked up to the front doors of the castle and Hagrid knocked on them loudly. Professor McGonagall came out immediately, looking down at us all sternly. She led us up into the castle to a grand entrance hall.

“Welcome to Hogwarts,” she began, “The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room. The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn you house points, while any rule breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours. The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting.”

Harry immediately began to flatten his hair but I made the point to pull out the end of my white polo shirt, making the corner stick out from underneath my sweater. I then loosened my collar a bit and tightened my ponytail, so it was up higher and even more obnoxiously large. Harry grinned at me in amusement.

“I shall return when we are ready for you. Please wait quietly,” Professor McGonagall nodded and left back into the hall.

Suddenly, a blond boy, with very pale, warm skin walked up to us, as we were standing in front. “Is it true? What they were saying on the train? Harry Potter has come to Hogwarts,” the boy stated pompously to Harry next to me.

“Yes,” Harry responded thinly, causing the murmurs of many students behind him. Two mean looking, thickset boys came up behind the pale boy, both slightly darker than him, with black hair.

“This is Crabbe, and this is Goyle. And my name’s Malfoy, Draco Malfoy,” Draco set out his hand for Harry to shake. I heard a snort somewhere in the crowd that made me giggle myself.

“And who’s this one?” Draco nodded at me with narrowed eyebrows.

“Maggie Johnson, at your service,” I bowed cheekily, “The great adopted sister of Harry Potter.”

Draco nodded, his eyes narrowed, “And who is this one?” he nodded at Hermione next to him.

“Hermione Granger,” she introduced, almost as pompous as he had.

“I don’t recognize your name,” Draco sneered, “Who are your parents?”

“Muggles,” Hermione answered defensively.

Draco seemed to laugh a little, like it was a bit of a joke, before turning back to Harry, “You’ll soon find out some wizards are better than others, Potter. You don’t want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there,” he shoved his hand further for Harry to shake.

Harry glared at him immediately, “I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks,” Harry responded thinly.

Draco looked furious, a pink tint coloring his cheeks. Before he could respond, I decided to have my fun with him.

“Nice hair,” I commented lightly, smirking at the boy, “What you do, sit in the sun for too long?”

Everyone behind me burst into giggles and Draco looked even more furious than before.

“You’d better be careful what you say, or…” Draco began in a dangerous voice.

“Or what? Some powerful person you happen to know will come to save your scrawny arse?” I teased.

“You’re no better than she is, really. What are you, a mixture of every immigrant that has come to this country?” Draco sneered. I was momentarily stunned, never having even thought about this before, feeling suddenly strangely out of place.

“She’s part Inuit and Cherokee,” Harry snapped, “So you’re racist _and_ an idiot.”

“Why you-“ Draco shouted, but the doors to the Great Hall opened and he immediately rejoined the group of first years. Harry subtly held his hand out for me to high five, which I took gladly.

“Now, all of you form a line, and follow me,” Professor McGonagall ordered. I lead the way, Harry following behind me, Hermione behind him, and Neville behind her. I couldn’t believe that I was at the front of the line and I felt like everyone’s eyes were on me, and after what had just occurred I was terrified.

Thousands upon thousands of candles just hanging in midair lighted the Great Hall, and there were four long tables where all of the students were sitting. There was a fifth table at the other end of the hall were the professors were sitting, and I immediately recognized Dumbledore and Snape, Sprout and Flitwick, and Hagrid from afar. We came to a halt up to the teacher’s table; the ceiling of the Hall was dark and dotted with stars, like the sky outside.

“It’s bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in _Hogwarts, a History_ ,” Hermione whispered to me. I nodded in amazement.

Professor McGonagall placed on a four-legged stool in front of us a pointed, very old and dirty wizard’s hat. Wondering what we could possibly have to do with it, I jumped back in shock as the hat opened its brim and began to _sing. SING!_

“ _Oh, you may not think I’m pretty_  
But don’t judge on what you see,  
I’ll eat myself if you can find  
A smarter hat than me.  
You can keep your bowlers black,  
Your top hats sleek and tall,  
For I’m the Hogwarts Sorting Hat  
And I can cap them all.  
There’s nothing hidden in your head  
The Sorting Hat can’t see,  
So try me on and I will tell you  
Where you ought to be.  
You might belong in Gryffindor,  
Where dwell the brave at heart,  
Their daring, nerve, and chivalry  
Set Gryffindors apart;  
You might belong in Hufflepuff,  
Where they are just and loyal,  
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true  
And unafraid of toil;  
Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,  
If you’ve a ready mind,  
Where those of wit and learning,  
Will always find their kind;  
Or perhaps in Slytherin  
You’ll make your real friends,  
Those cunning folk use any means  
To achieve their ends.  
So put me on! Don’t be afraid!  
And don’t get in a flap!  
You’re in safe hands (though I have none)  
For I’m a Thinking Cap!” 

The whole hall burst into applause and I felt waves of relief wash over me. So we only had to put on a hat? Most excellent. This wouldn’t be too hard at all.

Harry, however, looked rather sick and nervous. I gently rubbed his shoulder and he smiled at me in thanks as we waited patiently there. Neville also looked rather sick, so I reached out and patted his shoulder awkwardly. Neville blushed but smiled at me in thanks. Hermione simply couldn’t stop bouncing on her toes.

“When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted,” Professor McGonagall declared before beginning with, “Abbott, Hannah!”

A pink faced girl with blond pig tails came out of the crowd and smashed the hat over her head, and after a pause the hat shouted, “HUFFLEPUFF!” The table on the right of the hall cheered as she went to joint hem.

“Bones, Susan!”

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

“Boot, Terry!”

“RAVENCLAW!”

The second table from the left clapped this time, a sea of blue, and shook Terry’s hand.

“Brocklehurst, Mandy!”

“RAVENCLAW!”

“Brown, Lavender!”

“GRYFFINDOR!”

This time the table on the far left clapped and cheered as Lavender, a short pale girl with very curly dirty brown hair, went to joint hem.

“Bulstrode, Millicent!”

“SLYTHERIN!”

The final table, the one second from the right, burst into cheers. I couldn’t help but think they all looked… well, very mean.

“Corner, Michael!”

“RAVENCLAW!”

“Crabbe, Vincent!”

“SLYTHERIN!”

“Dougherty, Renee!”

“RAVENCLAW!”

“Eckles, Mia!”

“RAVENCLAW!”

I felt rather dazed and extremely nervous, realizing exactly how long it would be before _J_ came into conversation.

“Finch-Fletchley, Justin!”

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

“Finnegan, Seamus!”

“GRYFFINDOR!” The boy was the short one with the dark hair who had had the most trouble not laughing at Hermione in the compartment on the train. I scowled a little but regained my composure.

“Goldstein, Anthony!”

“RAVENCLAW!”

“Goyle, Gregory!”

“SLYTHERIN!”

“No surprises there,” Harry muttered in my ear. I giggled a little, but felt rather guilty.

“Mum was in Slytherin,” I reminded quietly.

“Your mum is a different breed of person altogether,” Harry laughed.

“Granger, Hermione!”

Hermione looked terrified as she walked up to the stool and put the hat on her head. It took a very long time to decide, indeed; Hermione looked the most nervous I had seen her that day as she waited there. Finally…

“GRYFFINDOR!”

I beamed at her as she ran off to her table. I admit, I had been expecting Ravenclaw for the brainy girl.

“Henderson, Kelly!”

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

 _Crap… J…_ I thought in terror, realizing no one would have a last name that started with I, well, probably not…

“Jacobs, Carl!”

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

I swallowed and felt my heart leap up into my chest.

“Johnson, Margaret!”

I swallowed again and walked up to the stool, shaking from my head to my toes as I sat on it and shoved the hat on my head.

“Aha!” a small voice declared in my ear. I felt myself swallow a third time in response as the voice continued, “Yes, yes, you are a rebel, aren’t you? Fearless… reckless… prone to anger… Not stupid, either, yes you do indeed have a good mind here… Very very brave, though, most of all… And loyal, very loyal to your family… to your friends… You really will do anything for them I see… No regard for rules or authority, you’re very stubborn, I can see… well… I suppose the best fit for you has got to be… yes… yes, it really is GRYFFINDOR!” the hat shouted at the top of its lungs.

Immediately I felt a large smile overtake my face as I ran down to the table to sit next to Hermione, trying my hardest to not just _skip_. She beamed at me and we both turned to watch the rest of the sorting. I eagerly awaited Harry’s placement, after all.

“Jones, Ashley!”

“SLYTHERIN!”

“Lee, Sam!”

“RAVENCLAW!”

“Lewis, Lauren!”

“SLYTHERIN!”

“Longbottom, Neville!”

Neville walked up, shaking again, and I prayed for him that he’d be put where he wanted to be. The hat took a very long time for him, too- of similar length as Hermione. But eventually it opened its brim and shouted, “GRYFFINDOR!”

Neville came off the stool still wearing it and had to return to put it back before coming down to sit across from Hermione and me. We both grinned at him and he smiled weakly back as we turned our attention back to the group.

“Macmillan, Ernie!”

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

“Malfoy, Draco!”

I smirked slightly as he put the hat on his head and was instantly sorted into “SLYTHERIN!”

“Mills, Frank!”

“RAVENCLAW!”

“Nott, Theodore!”

“SLYTHERIN!”

“O’Rourke, Siobhan!”

“GRYFFINDOR!”

The girl, who had long black hair, mahogany colored skin, and a weak smile, came over to join us all and Lavender and Seamus. She smiled at us shyly as we continued to watch the sorting. I was anxious now; the P’s were rapidly approaching.

“Olson, James!”

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

“Parkinson, Pansy!”

“SLYTHERIN!”

“Patil, Padma!”

“RAVENCLAW!”

“Patil, Parvati!”

“GRYFFINDOR!” I was amazed that the other identical, darkly tanned girl with black hair was not in the same house as her sister as she came and sat with Siobhan.

“Perks, Sally-Ann!’

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

I braced myself on Harry’s behalf as McGonagall called out, “Potter, Harry!”

The hall erupted into murmurs and gasps and I grimaced in sympathy for him. He must have been mortified- I knew my brother and I knew he just wanted to get up there and get sorted. He walked up to the stool and sat with the hat on his head, for yet another long period of time. Finally, the hat opened its brim and shouted, “GRYFFINDOR!”

I stood on my feet and cheered as loud as the rest of them as he came over and sat next to me. I immediately gave him a hug and he returned it, looking simply relieved, though I could also see a flash of trouble behind his eyes. I knew I’d have to ask about that later.

The rest of the sorting passed without much incident; Thomas, Dean also joined us in Gryffindor, then Turpin, Lisa went off to Ravenclaw. Ursine, Amy went to Hufflepuff, and Walters, Nick joined her there. Weasley, Ron- the redheaded boy who also looked amused with Hermione’s very life when we had come by- was sorted into Gryffindor, to my dismay. Finally, Young, Sarah and Zabini, Blaise went to Slytherin, and McGonagall took the hat away.

Professor Dumbledore got to his feet and greeted us all, but finishing up with, “Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!”

He sat down and suddenly food filled up all the tables. I immediately began scarfing down food, starving after the day’s long journey. Hermione looked at me in amusement.

“What?” I asked, sticking my tongue at her. She rolled her eyes and turned to her own food. Harry turned and started talking to Ron, Seamus and Dean, chatting about flying together, even though he had never held a broom in his life (Mum didn’t want the villagers to see a boy flying in the sky for whatever reason.)

“So Hermione, what do your parents do?” I asked after I had finished stuffing my face with food.

“They’re dentists,” Hermione paused, “We live in Greenwich.”

“Where in London is that again? I’ve only been there once, and it was a few weeks ago,” I grimaced.

“Have you been anywhere outside of your home? Since Harry had to be cooped up?” Hermione asked.

“We’ve gone to America a bunch of times. My mom is a diplomat for the Ministry of Magic so she actually got assigned there for a few years. We lived with my grandparents from when I was 6 to when I was 8,” I responded defensively, “And we visit them every other summer, though we didn’t this summer because of the whole ‘we’re going to school’ thing.”

“That’s interesting,” Hermione gasped, “Where in America?”

“Chicago,” I shrugged, pronouncing it almost like a native rather than in my usual Scottish accent, “They live in Englewood.”

“That’s a neighborhood I assume?” Hermione raised her eyebrows.

“Yeah. It’s not very safe and it’s a pretty poor neighborhood but it’s near where the Chicago magical school is so they live there. Easier to commute I guess,” I shrugged.

“How did your parents keep from you that there was magic when your grandparents teach at a magical school?” Hermioen asked shrewdly.

“We just knew they were teachers, we didn’t know _what_ they taught,” I stuck my tongue out at her, “Just like we knew my mom was a diplomat and we figured apothecaries were still a thing. You never answered my question.”

“Greenwich is in Southeast London,” Hermione smiled, “It’s pretty safe. I like it there.”

“Did you go to muggle school?” I asked, “I always wondered what it was like.”

“I did, though it wasn’t particularly interesting,” Hermione shrugged.

“What about you, Neville?” I asked. He had just been sitting there silently for most of the meal, watching me and Hermione talk with fascination. 

“My gran just taught me at home,” he shrugged, his voice fairly quiet, “Don’t know why, since she thought I was a squib.”

“Squib?” Hermione and I asked, frowning.

“Someone born to magical parents who doesn’t have magic. Reverse of a muggle-born,” Neville explained.

 “That is weird that she wouldn’t let you go to muggle school then… did you ever ask?” I questioned. He shook his head.

“You should have asked!” I laughed.

“I don’t think so,” Neville frowned, turning back to his food. I watched him in confusion.

“Don’t let what that boy said get to you by the way,” Hermione said after a while.  

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“That Malfoy boy. Don’t let what he said to you get to you. Eventually you just get used to it all,” Hermione shrugged.

I looked at her questioningly and she sighed heavily.

“I’m half Jewish, half Pakistani. My mum and dad met in Israel and fell in love, ran up to the UK for a fresh start with all the conflicts down there,” Hermione explained, “Do I _look_ English?”

“Not really, no,” I admitted.

“They changed their last name and everything. But kids at school still could tell I was foreign and bullied me about it,” Hermione shrugged, “I mainly sat in a corner and read quietly all the time.”

“I’m sorry,” I responded earnestly, frowning. Hermione smiled slightly.

“Thanks. I’m hoping Hogwarts will be better. But racial comments come and go. You just have to ignore them. Otherwise it just gets worse,” she nodded firmly, as though there was no discussion to it.

“That’s ridiculous, Hermione,” I frowned, “Why should I ignore someone being a jerk?”

Hermione shrugged, “Because if you don’t they’ll be worse. Just trust me.”

I sighed and turned back to my food. She did have more experience than me, I supposed.

“I generally find just letting people do what they want and ignoring them works,” Neville nodded in agreement.

“That fundamentally goes against my personality,” I rolled my eyes.

“You’ve never had to actually talk to people, I see,” Hermione smirked.

I looked over at Malfoy across the way at the Slytherin table. He smirked at me and smeared some pudding on his cheek. I felt my eyes widen and turned back to Hermione and Neville.

“Isn’t this place fantastic, Maggie?” Harry suddenly asked me, his mouth filled with the aforementioned pudding.

“Yeah,” I paused as he laughed at something Ron said, “Fantastic.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yup, I hit the ground running. Biggest change about my version: it's darker, because I never make a pretense of it being a children's book. 
> 
> Please comment, subscribe, etc.! It helps me keep going to know that I have support! 
> 
> Thanks guys!


	4. Chapter Three: September 2-6, 1991, Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It's time to begin, isn't it?
> 
> I get a little bit bigger but then I'll admit
> 
> I'm just the same as I was
> 
> Now don't you understand
> 
> That I'm never changing who I am"
> 
> ~ Imagine Dragons, "It's Time"

Chapter Three: September 2-6, 1991, Hogwarts 

Hogwarts was, by far, one of the most amazing places I had ever been to, terrible people aside. I know I hadn’t been to a lot of places so my statement didn’t count for very much, but I stand by it to this day.

I got lost frequently, but I had always loved exploring; I didn’t really understand the subject matter at first, but I had always loved figuring things out; there were a lot of new people I didn’t recognize, but I felt like I had been finally let free, and of course Harry and I, being in the same house and the same year, had all of our classes together. I was never without my best friend.

By the first day I was already rubbing adults the wrong way, which I thought was a triumph, as opposed to the day before. As we ascended the staircase- once it had decided which way to go- to attend our first ever class, Herbology, we ran into Argus Filch, the caretaker. I had accidentally tripped over his cat, Mrs. Norris.

“How dare you hurt my cat?” Filch demanded in a gravelly, irritated voice, “All you hooligan children always trying to sabotage us…”

“It was an accident,” I snapped back, “I was too busy looking to see how to get to class to notice your meddling feline.”

“Why you little…” Filch snapped.

“Leave the girl alone, Argus,” a smooth, disdainful voice sounded. Harry and I looked in unison, my side braids unfortunately whipping into his cheek, to see Professor Snape standing at the head of the stairs.

“The cat is fine, you are fine, the girl is fine. There is no need to dwell on it,” Professor Snape stated dully, over pronouncing all his words.

“Fine,” Filch responded, but I could tell he wasn’t done with me yet. I grimaced a little and turned to thank the Professor, but in that moment he was gone. Harry and I looked at each other, shrugged, and hurried off to class.

Needless to say, my 12th birthday was a great day, compared to the day before anyway.

Herbology was one of my favorite classes; I deeply enjoyed standing in the greenhouses, repotting plants and finding out what they were all used for. I loved getting my hands dirty in the earth and I loved the feeling of being connected to the livelihood of the plants.

Neville seemed to enjoy that class a lot too, and we would often marvel together over the littlest things- the shape of the plant leaf, the greenness of the stem, the way the plant would squirt out pus at the slightest touch. Our marveling even annoyed Hermione, who was very much a learner by reading and not by doing- she would go through the lesson as quickly as possible, answering questions perfectly and clearly having total recall, but she didn’t _know_ the plants. Harry was, more likely than not, a little bored most of the time- he only got really into it when we worked with plants that did more than just sit there.

 

While I was closest with Neville and Hermione, Harry had really become close to Ron. Ron was even more bored in Herbology than Harry was, not even getting excited about the active plants. This alone made me annoyed with him and I didn’t really interact with him more than I had to. Meanwhile, Harry got annoyed with Hermione, and how she kept answering all the questions. So I stuck with my preferred people and he stuck with his, which was the strangest thing of all about this new place.

Charms class was alright- the little Professor Flitwick, who seemed amazed that Harry was even at Hogwarts at all, was kind of hard for me to understand. We didn’t start magic in that class write away, but took a lot of notes on proper wand waving and pronunciation. Needless to say, this more patient form of learning bored me; I thought I understood immediately how to do all these things and I didn’t understand the point of dwelling on it. Hermione, of course, ate it all up, and she was easily the most excited person in that class. Harry and I shared boredom there, and Neville simply looked nervous about performing well at all. Ron would sit with Seamus and Dean in that class, seeming unable to handle Hermione in such a close proximity. In fact, he was constantly making fun of her.

I kind of (really) wanted to punch him in the face.

When we returned to the Common Room one afternoon and sat down to work on our homework, Harry turned to me incredulously.

“Why do you keep her around? And him?” he asked quietly, barely over a whisper in case they came by.

“Because I like them,” I responded equally quietly, “I like Hermione. She might be pretty bossy and know-it-all-y, but she’s nice and she’s clever and she’s friendly.”

“She’s very… much a rule follower. I thought that of all things would…” Harry muttered.

“Maybe we need one around so we don’t get expelled. I thought you were warming up to her?” I responded in annoyance.

“I am, it’s just…” Harry paused, looking awkward.

“Weasley again?” I sighed, “You know how I feel about him. Yes, Hermione is overwhelming. But that didn’t give him a right to laugh at her.”

“I know, it’s just… I dunno, it’s nice to have a guy friend, that’s all,” Harry sighed, “And we get along really well.”

“I understand,” I sat back and opened my Herbology book, “That doesn’t mean I have to like him.”

“No, it doesn’t. Does your liking Hermione mean I have to like her?” Harry responded with fervor.

“No…” I sighed, “But that’s the thing, you haven’t given her a chance…”

“You haven’t given Ron a chance!” Harry retorted.

“I have too! He was rude to Neville again in Herbology!” I snapped. Harry sighed as I continued, “And Hermione hasn’t actually been rude to either of us.”

“You’re right,” Harry finally accepted, “I’ll keep trying.”

“That’s all I ask,” I sighed, “I’m sorry, Ron just rubs me the wrong way. And you and Hermione have your moments.”

“You’re right, we do. I guess Ron just influences me by complaining about her all the time. I can’t lie and say she doesn’t get annoying, but she is a nice girl and we can be friendly. I’m sorry, I’ll try harder,” Harry admitted.

“You can stay friends with Ron, just… don’t change into someone like him,” I asked calmly.

“What d’you mean?” Harry asked curiously.

“I mean just… you’re a very sensitive, caring person, Harry,” I explained calmly, “That’s not a weakness, that’s a strength. And Ron… can be very _insensitive_. So just… don’t forget that.”

“Alright,” Harry smiled reassuringly.

We sat there and worked on homework for a while before Harry finally spoke up again.

“What about Neville?” he asked curiously.

“What about him?” I responded, flipping through the pages of my textbook and scratching on the parchment with my quill.

“I mean, why do you keep him around?” Harry sighed, “He doesn’t seem like the kind of person you’d get along with…”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” I looked up, “I get along with him a lot. He’s sensitive, like you. And he’s sweet. And, well…”

“You feel sorry for him?” Harry suggested.

“Yeah,” I responded with a sigh, “But if I like him, why shouldn’t I be friends with him?”

“No reason,” Harry smiled a little, “I don’t mind him much either, to be honest. Ron just…”

“Makes fun of him?” I asked calmly, “Please, stop listening to what Ron says. He’s mean.”

Harry nodded, his face clearly showing some understand, and we turned back to our studies.

A class I could not pay attention in, period, was History of Magic, taught by the great ghost Professor Binns. As he continued on and on, teaching about all these things that had happened so many many years ago to people I didn’t know (nor particularly care about,) I found my head repeatedly drooping towards the desk, threatening to land there and stay forever. Harry was equally bad, his quill making lazy loops along the parchment. Neville looked much too scared to not pay attention, but he wrote with very little zeal. Hermione was the only one who actually knew what she was doing and who could keep awake. Ron actually fell asleep.

On Wednesday at midnight we had to go up to the astronomy tower to observe the night sky and learning the way the planets moved and the stars aligned. They were too distant from me for me to have much interest, but I carried on anyway.

“Harry, I think I might need glasses too,” I groaned one evening as we peered through our telescopes.

“Why?” Harry asked curiously.

“I can’t see anything in this bloody telescope,” I hissed in annoyance.

“That’s because you’re looking in it wrong,” Hermione scolded, helping me orient the telescope, “Better?”

“Much,” I sighed, somewhat embarrassed by the entire proceeding. Hermione smiled at me in reassurance, however, and we continued on with the class.

Transfiguration, however, was by far my most favorite class. Professor McGonagall began it sternly, starting the class out with, “Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts. Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned.”

Professor McGonagall then transfigured her desk into a pig and back again. I looked at the transformation with wide, amazed eyes. I wanted to be able to do that- to see something and change it from something I didn’t want there, to something I wanted there. I wanted to have that power over my surroundings.

Of course, it couldn’t be that simple, and we spent most of the first class (and all the classes after that) taking extensive, complex notes. I didn’t get bored, however, because they actually required me to think, unlike my charms notes (or at least, I could _tell_ that they required me to think, unlike my charms notes). As I scribbled them down, I frowned at the chalkboard, trying to work out their meanings in my head before Professor McGonagall, forcing me to pay attention and keep my mind alert.

We then were given each a match that we were supposed to turn into a needle. We needed to focus on the composition of the mass, the composition of the needle, and the process of turning one into the other. I frowned, amazed at this manipulation, and set to work.

By the end of the class, I had managed to get my match to look silver and pointy. Only Hermione had also done the same, and Professor McGonagall showed our handiwork off to the class with a small smile. I beamed, bouncing in my seat. Harry looked down at his still-a-match in sadness, and Neville had only managed to not break his in half.

“Aww, Harry, you’ll figure it out,” I reassured as we all four walked through the corridors together after the lesson, “You too, Neville.”

“I just don’t understand it at all,” Neville sighed.

“I can help you out,” Hermione offered, “It won’t be any trouble.”

“I just need to go over it some more, then I’ll get it,” Harry muttered firmly, determinedly. I smiled and nodded at him in encouragement.

Defense Against the Dark Arts turned out to be a complete joke. Our professor, Professor Quirrell, couldn’t stop stuttering and seemed afraid of everything and everyone around him. He wore a giant purple turban and matching robes. I couldn’t help but think I had never learned anything about defensive magic but even I would be able to stand up to some creepy evil wizard or dangerous monster better than he could. The entire classroom smelled of garlic and his turban had a kind of funny smell to it, like some of the things on my dad’s apothecary table.

“Must be the reaction between the garlic and the fabric of the turban,” I commented lightly, “Maybe they just don’t mix long-term.”

“You’d think they could find a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher who wasn’t afraid of his own students,” Harry furthered as we managed to avoid getting trapped on a stairwell.

The last day of the week, Friday, we came down to the table for breakfast, both panting and out of breath. I had managed to somehow turn Mrs. Norris’ hair a light shade of yellow in the process of waving my wand in practice for charms on the way down. Filch hadn’t been around, but we left as quickly as we could anyway, terrified of repercussions.

“What do we have today?” Harry panted as I collapsed dramatically on the table, reaching for a glass of pumpkin juice with vigor.

“Double Potions with the Slytherins. Should be…” Hermione paused, clearly trying to find the right word.

“Interesting?” I offered, grabbing a piece of toast and ripping a chunk off with my teeth as vigorously as I could.

“Yes, that,” Hermione looked at me in mild disgust and I bowed in appreciation before turning to stab at my bacon with my fork.

“Be nice to your food, Maggie. The bacon did nothing to you,” Harry commented lightly. I grumbled and put it in my mouth with my hands instead.

“Were you raised in a barn?” Hermione asked in bemusement.

“Do the woods count?” I asked curiously, glad no one was asking why I was basically abusing my food. Since today I would have to interact with Malfoy in close quarters again, it probably was obvious.

Harry looked up at the teacher’s table for a moment and then looked back at me.

“Speaking of the woods, want to visit Hagrid? We don’t see him during the week and I rather liked him at my birthday party,” Harry asked.

“Oh why not,” I grinned, “We have some time this afternoon. Oh, speaking of birthdays, mum sent something for you with my present, but you weren’t at breakfast on Monday.”

“You wait to tell me this until now? And I’m sorry that I got lost… like you have plenty of times I might add,” Harry laughed.

“It slipped my mind until you mentioned birthdays. And Monday was so crazy I barely could tell it was mine… not sure if I’m going to like having it be the first day of term,” I sighed as I pulled out the little package from my bag. Harry opened it and found a new watch, which he gleefully put on- I remembered vaguely that his had broken when we had gone swimming the last week of summer, I had pushed him in and he still had the ruddy thing on.

“What did you get for your birthday anyway?” Harry asked curiously.

“More books on Transfiguration- you should be proud, Hermione. Also, a letter from my sister congratulating me for not getting expelled the moment I entered the doors. They promised my favorite dinner when we come home for the Christmas holidays, and Harry’s right after that.” I explained, “We should get to Potions. Wouldn’t want to irritate Professor Snape.”

“Why? He stood up for you to Filch,” Harry asked as we got up and started walking, Hermione and Neville following behind us.

“Well… he didn’t seem to like you much, did he?” I asked calmly as we walked down to the dungeons and entered the correct room. It was freezing down here, but being from near Braemar – one of the coldest places in Britain – it didn’t affect me very much at all. Harry seemed similarly comfortable. There were millions of jars everywhere containing questionable items. I stared up at the front of the class as Professor Snape entered, trying to ignore Malfoy as much as I could. He was talking to one of his burly friends, laughing behind his hand.

Professor Snape began the class by taking roll call, and went through my name quite fluidly. It was Harry’s name he felt the need to stop at.

“Ah, yes. Harry Potter. Our new… _celebrity_.”

Snape continued despite Draco Malfoy and his cronies’ laughing. I turned around to glare at them across the classroom. Draco smirked at me and gave me a look that clearly said _obviously I think my actions have no consequences_. I sneered a little more and turned back to face Snape, immediately plotting very violent actions against the kid in my head.

“You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making,” Snape stood at the front of the classroom, talking in a calm, quiet voice, “As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don’t expect you will really understand the beauty of a softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses… I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death – if you aren’t as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach.”

Hermione was very keen, leaning forward in her seat. Harry looked apprehensive, as did Neville. I slumped in my seat, trying to look bored on purpose. The way he phrased that whole explanation was creepy at best.

“Potter!” Snape suddenly shouted. I looked between the two of them with wide, amazed eyes as he continued, “What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?”

I looked as Harry clearly wracked his brains and had no idea. He appropriately said, “I don’t know, sir,” as Hermione shot her hand into the air and I twirled my stirring stick between my fingers.

“Tut, tut. Fame clearly isn’t everything,” Professor Snape sneered before continuing, “Let’s try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?”

I scowled at the teacher as Hermione’s hand shot in the air again. Who could _possibly_ know this ahead of time? True, I hadn’t read the potions book as much as I had the transfiguration one, but who would actually _remember_ that? Well, except Hermione.

“I don’t know, sir,” Harry stated calmly. Draco, Crabbe and Goyle were sniggering. I scowled again, feeling my eyes narrow. I pulled out my wand very, very secretly and pointed it at them from under the desk. Crabbe and Goyle didn’t notice, but Draco did, and he looked at it in fright. He probably assumed I knew some sort of curse to throw at them. I was glad he didn’t know that I didn’t have a _clue_. He immediately stopped sniggering and punched both Crabbe and Goyle to shut up as well. I smirked in satisfaction and turned back to face Snape, whom I was beginning to dislike immensely indeed.

“Thought you wouldn’t open a book before coming, eh, Potter?”

I glared at him now. Of _course_ we had read. I raised my hand in the air incredulously. Snape looked over at me for a moment, as though about to answer me. I knew he wouldn’t, if he hadn’t given Hermione the time of day.

But then he did.

“Yes, Miss Johnson?” Snape sneered at me, now, but not nearly as menacingly. It bothered me to no end how _clearly_ he hated Harry above everyone else.

“Actually, Professor Snape, Harry _did_ open a book before coming here. I was with him, we read all sorts of our textbooks because we were so excited to learn about magic. However, I don’t think anyone other than Miss Genius here,” I pointed my thumb over at Hermione, “Would actually remember every little thing they read in their books. Sometimes details are slipped, and anyone with a common sense of fairness would know that.”

The class hushed, dead silent, clearly terrified to see what would happen next. I just sat back in my seat, looking at Snape challengingly.

Snape’s eyes and expression narrowed even more as he answered “See me in my office, after class.”

I shrugged nonchalantly, trying to convey an air of complete apathy.  The class began muttering again and I rolled my eyes at this. Harry looked over at me in fear, probably expecting me to get expelled.

“For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. And a bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most potions. You should _all be copying this down._ Now, Miss Johnson,” he turned to me, “Can you explain the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?”

“No idea,” I responded promptly, “Sorry.”

“They are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. Copy this down as well,” Snape ordered, turning around with his cape flowing rapidly behind him like a bat.

Hermione, Harry and Neville were all still staring at me as if I was about to pass away. I rolled my eyes at all of them in annoyance.

“Also, fifteen points from Gryffindor for your cheek, Miss Johnson,” Professor Snape added as he started writing on the chalkboard, _A Cure for Boils_. I shrugged, amused that he would add on more punishments, as we all worked to weigh nettles and crush snake fangs. He criticized everyone, except for, interestingly, Malfoy and me. Even Hermione’s potion got a slight criticism that the shade was not exactly the right shade of green. But mine, which was clearly much worse, he just passed by.

 _Well, crap_ , I thought in annoyance. He probably wasn’t wasting his time because I _was_ going to get expelled. Harry, Neville and Hermione seemed to agree, as they continued to look at me like I was the walking dead.

Neville accidentally melted his cauldron in the next moment, causing the potion to fall to the floor and seep across the stone floor, burning holes in shoes. Mine were already rather frayed, but even I jumped up on my stool as Neville writhed in agony over the pain the potion caused. I felt horrible for him and wanted to get to him to help, but didn’t know how to do so from the stools. I seriously considered leaping across desks.

“Idiot boy!” Snape snarled, “I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?”

Neville was in clearly too much pain to answer.

“You, take him up to the hospital wing,” Snape directed at Hermione, who had been working next to him. She helped him up and led him upstairs when Snape rounded on Harry, who had been on his other side.

“You – Potter – why didn’t you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he’d make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? A point from Gryffindor.”

Harry looked at him in amazement and I wanted to argue until the cows came home when I realized I would get into even more trouble as I continued to be cheeky. So I bit my tongue, grumbling to myself as I tried to salvage my potion.

The class ended and I walked over to the office, waving at Harry in farewell as I went through the door. Professor Snape had just sat down and looked up at me with a bit less annoyance as I sat down at his desk. I had half a mind to put my shoes on his desk but thought the better of it.

He studied me for a moment before stating, “Have a biscuit, Miss Johnson.”

I looked at him in shock and leaned forward in my chair, “What?!”

“You heard me,” he reached into his desk and pulled out a tin of biscuits, the kind with chocolate in them, “Have one.”

“You’re not trying to poison me, are you?” I asked in confusion.

“No,” he snapped, “Take one before I change my mind.”

I took one cautiously, biting down and finding it was disgusting.

“Why are you giving me a biscuit for mouthing off to you?” I asked calmly.

“I’ve already taken points off you. This is me making it look like I’m madder at you than I am,” Professor Snape explained.

“I am extraordinarily confused,” I frowned at him as I finished off the biscuit.

“I owe your mother approximately one million favors, by her count,” Snape continued calmly, “We were friends at Hogwarts ourselves… and she reminded this to me in a letter when she found out you were sorted into Gryffindor.”

“So…?” I looked at him incredulously.

“So, she asked me to treat you like I would a Slytherin, and not one of… your house,” Snape finished with a sneer, “Because I owe her one million favors. However, I’d rather no one knew about it.”

“Why do you owe her one million favors?” I asked curiously.

“That is a story for another day,” Snape snapped, “Just know that… well, I cared about your mother very much and I did some… very horrible things to her that she never thought she could forgive me for. But she did, and now I owe her for those things.”

I stared at him in annoyance for his cryptic reply before stating, “Why do you treat Harry so horribly?”

“Because his father and I were enemies during school,” Snape responded angrily, “Do not push the issue.”

“I can’t help but stick up for my brother when he’s being picked on by a bully,” I snapped back.

Snape scowled, “Fine. But I won’t stop either.”

“And you shouldn’t call anyone an idiot. It’s a damaging word,” I suddenly interjected.

“Your mother’s hold over me isn’t _that_ far reaching, Miss Johnson,” Snape sneered.

“Fine. So we’re at an impasse,” I raised my eyebrows; “I get fifteen points off every time and a biscuit, turns out.”

“Seems so,” Snape responded in a similar fashion. We sat there for a few more moments.

“I had been hoping you’d be in my house,” Snape sighed after a while, “You are _so_ like your mother.”

“I’m like my mother how she is now,” I responded calmly, “After all that nonsense with Voldemort.”

“Don’t speak his name,” Snape scowled.

“Anywho, she told me herself she changed a lot after that. So I’m not like her when she was actually _in_ Slytherin, at least, not that much,” I shrugged.

Snape studied me for a moment before replying, “I suppose you have a point. Well, you may go now. I expect your… friends… are terrified they’ll never see you again.”

“I suppose they are,” I responded calmly, getting up and leaving to the Common Room, where I expected Harry would be.

He was shocked to find me still a student- as were Hermione and Neville, not to mention Ron, Seamus, Dean, and the other Gryffindors. I could imagine the shock and anger on Draco’s face when I saw him. I didn’t tell anyone about Snape’s promise to my mother, however, keeping his secret for him despite my misgivings. We left to go visit with Hagrid down at the hut on the grounds, where we knew him to live. He was very pleased and surprised to see us, giving us some tea and talking to us about our week. I couldn’t help but notice, though, an article from a newspaper on his table about a break in at Gringotts, the giant wizard bank we had been to when we had visited Diagon Alley.

I looked at the article and picked up the paper from his desk, reading about how the vault had been emptied that very day, so nothing had been taken from it. I looked up at Hagrid in curiosity, but decided the better of asking questions and put the article back down.

Harry and I left, and I explained the mystery to Harry, who looked just as curious.

“I thought Gringotts couldn’t be broken into? At least, not well?” Harry asked, clearly thinking hard on the subject.

“I did too,” I responded, “But I guess not. Wonder what was in the vault when it was emptied?”

Harry continued to think, “It was emptied on my birthday, yes? That’s the day of the break-in.”

“Yeah, said so in the article,” I agreed, nodding as we walked up to the castle.

“I wonder if we could figure out what it is?” Harry murmured thoughtfully.

“Uh, why?” I responded as wel climbed up the many stairways towards the Common Room.

“Well it must be pretty important, right? If someone wanted to find it at Gringotts?” Harry frowned.

“Probably,” I nodded eagerly, “Do you want to try and figure it out?”

“Of course I do,” Harry pursed his lips in thought, “But I do not know who exactly to ask.”

“How about Hermione? We could ask her what sort of important magical objects there are and such. The kinds of things that would be hidden in Gringotts!” I bounced eagerly on the balls of my feet as we walked to the foot of the staircase.

“Maybe,” Harry paused, “But… I dunno if I want to ask about it.”

“Why?” I asked in amazement, “You’re always the one who wants to go on adventures and solve mysteries. Heck, you _make up_ the mysteries when we’re particularly bored.”

“Yeah, but… well, let’s just say I don’t want Hermione to think we’re up to no good,” Harry sighed as we reentered the castle and started walking towards the Common Room.

“Oh?” I asked in confusion as we reached the room.

“She might have given me an earful about you mouthing off to Snape while we waited for you to get back,” Harry admitted mournfully. I laughed and patted him on the back as we went back up the stairs, exhausted already from our first week of school.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah confession - a lot of books 1 and 2 is just Maggie living through what happened in those books in JKR's universe. So much of the important plot points of the later books are set up in those that I didn't see a way around that. Plus, with chaos theory - for those in the know - usually a minor change [how Harry grew up] starts out with small changes that grow much more numerous as time passes. So things start to really pick up in book 3 and then in book 4 its a shitstorm of change.  
> So until then, just enjoy my edited chapters here, and please comment, subscribe, bookmark, kudos, etc.! [Still getting used to the formatting in AO3, sorry about that.]


	5. Chapter Four: September 7 - October 31st, 1991

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Mmm, what you say?
> 
> Mm, that you only meant well? Well, of course you did.
> 
> Mmm, what you say?
> 
> Mm, that it's all for the best? Of course it is.
> 
> Mmm, what you say?
> 
> Mm, that it's just what we need? And you decided this.
> 
> What you say?
> 
> Mmm, what did you say?"
> 
> ~ Imogen Heap, "Hide and Seek"

Chapter Four: September 7 – October 31st, 1991

Draco Malfoy had indeed been displeased that I was still a student of Hogwarts the next day at dinner. I smiled at him from across the hall cheekily, raising my hand and waving it cheerfully. He scowled and looked away from me, but I felt right pleased with myself. Hermione gave me a smile of encouragement, though I know she thought I was just being reckless.

The next week of school passed without much further incident, though I continued to keep up with Hermione in Transfiguration. Snape continuously bullied Harry and Neville, but I managed to not actually say anything lippy this time. I did manage to glare a little in his direction, but that was just par for the course.

But that Thursday, we received an announcement that sent us all into frenzies- flying lessons would start that day, with the Slytherins (of all people). Harry immediately got extraordinarily excited. Neville and Hermione were less enthused, and I was apprehensive over the whole affair. Due to this, Harry spent even more time with Ron, who was equally excited for the prospect.

During breakfast, the mail came as per usual. Harry got a letter from Hagrid inviting us down again, and I got a letter from my parents asking how school was going. Neville, however, got a small little ball filled with white smoke.

“It’s a Remembrall,” Neville explained, “Gran knows I forget things – this tells you if there’s something you’ve forgotten to do. Look, you hold it tight like this and if it turns red – oh…” the Remembrall turned bright red as he held it, “… you’ve forgotten something…”

We all laughed a little at the situation as Neville sighed, “The trouble is, I can’t remember what I’ve forgotten.”

Draco Malfoy walked by the Gryffindor table and made a move as if to grab the Remembrall out of his hands. As he did so, I slapped his hand very hard, and he jerked it back in shock.

“Why you little-“ Draco sneered.

“What’s going on?” Professor McGonagall, who had seen the proceedings, asked as she walked up to us.

“Just giving Draco a friendly high five is all, Professor,” I explained smoothly.

Malfoy opened his mouth as though to argue but seemed to think the better of it, realizing that the Gryffindors would all stick up for me if it came to a test of credibility. He smiled thinly and nodded in agreement, and Professor McGonagall walked away fluidly.

“I’ll get you for this, Johnson,” Malfoy sneered.

“Sure you will,” I commented lightly, waving him off as though his threats meant nothing at all.

We all headed out to the fields, and it was such a warm day that I rolled up my sleeves and completely untied my tie. Hermione looked at me in disapproval but I just rolled my eyes at her and stuck my tongue out. She harrumphed in annoyance and looked straight ahead as we walked. Harry was busy talking to Ron in front of us, obviously ignoring our exchange as we got onto the field.

Madam Hooch was a spiky haired woman who was clearly athletic and not deteriorating due to age. She had fairly dark, chestnut toned skin and snow-white hair. We all gave her our complete attention; standing next to scraggly, old brooms that were clearly the worse for wear after years of being abused by untrained first years. Harry was next to me, bouncing on his heels a little with excitement. I looked at him in amusement and he beamed right back at me.

 “Today we’ll begin your first flying lesson,” Madam Hooch began calmly, “On my whistle, you’ll put your dominant hand over the broom, and say Up.” She then blew her whistle and I put my left hand over the broom, frowning, and joined the chorus of “Up’s!”

Harry’s broom jumped right into his hand. Hermione’s rolled angrily down at the ground below her. Neville’s simply stayed put. Draco’s went into his hand pretty quickly, and I remembered vaguely all the bragging he had done about his Quidditch skills. Mine came into my hand rather reluctantly, and it felt stiff and artificial in my hands. Ron’s broom smashed into his face and I had trouble not bursting into laughter.

“Now that you have your broom,” Madam Hooch continued, even though Neville still didn’t have his, “I want you to mount it. Now grip it tight, don’t want you sliding off the end.” She explained, in a rather irritated voice, to Malfoy that he’d been doing it wrong his whole life. I laughed in glee at that on my own broomstick, though it felt rather artificial and… wrong. Much too… well, stick like.

“On my whistle, you’ll push off from the ground, hard. Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle – three – two –“

Neville was clearly terrified, however, and he leapt up into air and kept climbing and climbing and climbing, clearly terrified. I looked up in fear, wanting to take off on this strange contraption to get him, but before I could he slipped off his broom and he fell – SMACK – facedown in the grass.

Madam Hooch ran over, clearly as terrified as Neville, and she examined him quickly, muttering about a broken wrist and helping him off of the ground.

“None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you’ll be out of Hogwarts before you can say ‘Quidditch.’ Come on, dear.” Madam Hooch led Neville off the grounds as he cried, and I started to follow behind them in worry. Hermione grabbed my arm and held be back, shaking her head in disapparoval. Malfoy had immediately begun laughing at him the moment they were gone into the castle.

“Did you see his face, the great lump?”

I turned on my heels to glare at him as the Slytherins all started laughing with him.

“Shut up, Malfoy,” Parvati Patil scowled.

“Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?” Pansy Parkinson sneered, laughing, “Never thought _you’d_ like fat little cry-babies, Parvati.”

I walked up to Parkinson angrily, my fists clenched at my sides.

“What you gonna do, Johnson?” Parkinson barked with laughter in my face, “Make empty threats that you can’t follow up on?”

“C’mon Maggie,” Hermione called, “She’s not worth it.”

I glared at Parkinson in anger and stepped back, unclenching my fists.

“Look!” Malfoy suddenly cried, taking the attention away from the situation, “It’s that stupid thing Longbottom’s gran sent him.” The Remembrall was sparkling brilliantly in the sunlight.

“Give it here, Malfoy,” Harry suddenly interjected, his voice quieter and more deadly sounding than I had ever heard it. It even frightened me a little bit.

It didn’t frighten Malfoy.

“I think I’ll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find… like a tree,” he grinned evilly.

“Give it here!” Harry yelled, but Malfoy had leapt onto his broomstick and flew out to the sky. Malfoy shouted out, “Come and get it, Potter!”

Harry ran over to grab his broom, despite Hermione’s protests. In fact, the only expression of approval he needed was mine. He looked over at me and I gave him a small nod and he took off into the air.

I was amazed at how extraordinarily at home he looked up there, turning elegantly and swooping calmly through the air. Siobhan, Parvati, and Lavender gasped in admiration. Hermione looked begrudgingly amazed. Ron, Seamus and Dean all whooped in admiration. I beamed slightly and I couldn’t help but cheer at the top of my lungs, “GO HARRY!”

Harry faced Malfoy in midair and we could hear him shout, “Give it here, or I’ll knock you off that broom!”

“Yeah?” Malfoy responded. He sounded much less confident than he had before. Harry leaned forward and zoomed almost straight into Malfoy, who got out of the way just in time. It shocked me how quickly Harry was learning how to fly.

“No Crabbe and Goyle up here to save your neck, Malfoy,” Harry shouted.

“Catch it if you can, then!” Malfoy replied, throwing the Remembrall high into the air and then streaking back to the ground towards us. He smirked at me as he walked over and I felt my eyes narrow again as a plan quickly formed in my head.

Meanwhile, Harry had managed to fly extraordinarily fast on that rickety broom; he zoomed forward and somehow managed to grab the Remembrall just as he landed to the ground near us. He walked over to us, all the Gryffindors (even, to some extent, Hermione) cheering and jumping up and down.

“Harry, can I see that?” I asked, beaming at him with pride. He beamed back and threw the Remembrall to me. I walked up to Malfoy, holding it in my hand. To my luck, it turned red in my grasp. I decided I’d worry about what I had forgotten later.

“Hey Malfoy,” I sneered, looking at him in hatred. Malfoy looked back at me challengingly.

“Looks like I’ve forgotten something… hmm…” I paused, frowning down at the Remembrall, “Oh yeah!”

I then stepped back, raised my arm, and punched Malfoy as hard in the face as I could. The cracking sound my fist made with his nose was amazingly satisfying. He fell back with a cry of pain, clutching his bleeding nose.

“HARRY POTTER! MAGGIE JOHNSON!”

I turned around on my heel to see Professor McGonagall walking over to us in shock and amazement. Harry looked terrified but I stood my ground over the whimpering, bleeding Malfoy.

“Detention, Miss Johnson,” Professor McGonagall gasped, “And twenty points from Gryffindor for fist-fighting. Miss Parkinson, you will escort Mr. Malfoy up to the hospital wing. Mr. Malfoy, detention for you as well and twenty points from Slytherin for flying without the aid of an instructor and blatantly stealing another student’s property.”

Malfoy opened up his mouth to whine but I turned to him and glared at him, clenching my fist again. Malfoy seemed terrified at the mere threat and didn’t say anything.

“Potter, with me,” Professor McGonagall ordered. Harry followed her with his head down and I feared for him, wondering why he hadn’t gotten the same punishment as Malfoy and me. Malfoy and Parkinson followed hurriedly behind him.

Hermione turned and walked up to me, “That was a very reckless thing to do, Maggie.”

I shrugged, “He had it coming and you _know_ it. Neville has enough trouble at school without him making his life miserable.”

Hermione smiled a little, “Well, that’s true. And if you’re not scared of getting detention well…”

I beamed and Ron suddenly interjected – the first words he had ever said to me – with “Then it’s brilliant.”

I managed a slight smile at him and bowed for the benefit of my classmates. Eventually, Madam Hooch returned, looking frazzled. I don’t know whether she heard of the entire proceedings, but the moment she came back on the field she stood in front of us in irritation.

“Today’s flying lesson is over. I expect to see you all again in two weeks where we can hopefully have a much less… disastrous… class,” Madam Hooch declared. We all nodded and left in a hurry, I making my way up to the Gryffindor Common Room.

Inside was Neville, who still looked upset, with a small amount of wrapping around his wrist as he sat there reading a book on Herbology. I walked up to him and sat down across from him at the table.

“I made a complete fool of myself,” Neville sighed softly, not looking up from his book.

“It’s alright. We all have days when we make complete fools of ourselves,” I responded calmly. Neville looked up in shock at my tone.

“You’re not going to make fun of me?” Neville asked in shock. I smiled.

“Why would I make fun of you? I would like to say, however, before anyone else does, that Harry and I defended you,” I declared.

“Defended me?” Neville looked at me in confusion.

“Well, Malfoy made fun of you, of course. He stole your Remembrall- that reminds me,” I took it out of my pocket and handed it to him, “And took off with it, flying to go hide it somewhere. Well, Harry chased it down and got it back and I… may or may not have broken Malfoy’s nose,” I shrugged offhandedly.

“You… you what?” Neville gasped breathlessly.

“Yep, punched him in the face I did,” I beamed.

“Wow… erm… thanks,” Neville laughed weakly.

“No problem,” I replied with a smile before turning back to my books. I felt a slight flush in my cheeks as I read the Herbology chapter for the next day.

At dinner, Harry came back and sat with Hermione and me. Neville was nowhere to be seen, as he had left to go to the library for another book before I had gone downstairs for dinner.

“Well? What did Professor McGonagall say?” I asked curiously as he sat across from me and took some mashed potatoes.

“Well… You know about Quidditch yeah?” Harry asked as we sat there. Hermione and I both nodded curiously as we sat there.

“Well… she has me as the Gryffindor seeker,” Harry explained, shrugging a little as if this wasn’t a big deal. Hermione and I looked at him in shock and Ron, who was sitting nearby, was most amazed of all.

“ _Seeker?_ But first years never… you must be the youngest house player in…”

“A century,” Harry answered him, “Wood, the captain, told me.”

Ron just watched harry with his mouth open. Hermione tried to look less impressed as she ate her steak and kidney pie. I beamed, however, and reached across the table to pat him on the back.

“Well done, Harry,” I laughed, “That’s brilliant.”

“I start training next week. Only don’t tell anyone. Wood wants to keep it a secret,” Harry laughed.

Two boys with brilliant red hair, similar to Ron’s hair, came up. They were shorter and stockier than Ron, but still had about a million freckles on their faces- and were basically completely identical to each other.

“Greetings, Harry!” one said cheerfully.

“We are Fred and George Weasley, Ron’s older brothers, at your service,” said the other in an identical voice.

“I am Fred, and he is George,” the first one clarified, “And we are on the team too. Good job, Wood told us. We’re the Beaters.”

“We’re going to win the Cup for sure this year,” George was practically cheering, “Wood was very excited when he told us.”

“Anyway, we’ve got to go, but it was nice to meet you- obviously Ron’s told us all about you. We’re off to go find out about a secret passageway our mate found,” Fred explained.

“Ta!” George waved and left with his brother out of the hall. Harry looked mildly overwhelmed as we all turned back to our food. Suddenly, Neville reappeared, but he had a bloody nose and a cut over his eye. I looked at him in alarm as he sat down, stemming the blood flow from his nose, and clearly trying to pretend like it was no big deal.

“Neville… what happened?” Hermione gasped in amazement.

“Nothing,” Neville said quietly, eating a load of spaghetti as if the discussion wouldn’t continue.

“Blimey, Neville, that doesn’t look like nothing,” Ron insisted, much to my surprise.

“Well, it is, alright?” Neville snapped. He was specifically not meeting my eyes.

I didn’t want to drop it, so I opened my mouth again to ask, but Hermione looked at me and shook her head almost imperceptibly. I scowled and turned back to my own food.

I looked up and watched as, almost as if they were strutting, Malfoy and his cronies walked into the hall and walked over to the Slytherin Table. However, they veered past our table first. I readied myself to get extraordinarily annoyed with the people as they walked over to where we were sitting.

“Hello Longbottom,” Malfoy greeted cheerfully, “How’s the nose?”

Neville said nothing but kept his head down, looking stubbornly at his plate.

“Sorry you didn’t have your knights in shining armor to help you out back there, but hey, just had to set the status quo didn’t we?” Malfoy laughed, “The princess sometimes doesn’t get rescued. Oh, Potter, how long do you have left at this castle?”

Harry glared at him, “Well, until I graduate seventh year I expect.”

Malfoy sneered, “Not expelled then?”

“Not yet anyway,” Harry responded tartly.

“Don’t you have a table of your own to go to?” I asked offhandedly, grabbing an apple from a plate and not directly looking at the loathsome boy.

“A better table, I’d say,” Malfoy responded, but I heard him and his pack walking away. I looked up then and at Neville.

“Did he beat you up?” I asked softly, knowing my voice was rather deadly there.

“Drop it,” Neville whispered.

“Neville…” I insisted.

“Maggie,” he snapped. I had never heard him be angry before, “Just… don’t worry about it. Don’t worry about _me_.”

“Why ever not?” I asked softly. He looked up at me, still stemming the flow of blood from his nose.

“Because it just makes them madder,” Neville sighed, “Because they know the moment you’re gone I’ll be helpless and they’ll attack me because they’re mad at you. So stop sticking up for me because it just makes them attack me more.”

I looked at him in sadness.

“Same goes for you, Harry. They can’t get to you two but they can get to me, so they do that. I appreciate what you both did this afternoon but just… don’t do it again,” Neville finished, standing up and leaving the table and his half-eaten dinner.

I stared at his retreating back and looked down at my plate in shame.

“Well, it’s not like he doesn’t have a point. He will get the retaliation for anything you two do to fight Malfoy. I’d just stay low if I were you,” Hermione stated almost cruelly.

“Oh shut it,” Ron suddenly intervened, “Are you two honestly going to let Malfoy continue to torture Neville like this?”

I looked up at Ron sadly, “I don’t want to hurt him further by bothering Malfoy.”

Ron shook his head in disappointment and left the table. Harry just looked down at his plate in sadness as we sat there, clearly blaming himself as I had done.

As I got up to go leave the hall, Malfoy and his gang were standing in front of the door to the Great Hall, probably waiting for me and Harry, who followed close behind me.

“Well,” Malfoy grinned, “Aren’t you going to do something about your poor, pathetic friend?”

“At his request,” I said through gritted teeth, “No.”

“Aww,” Malfoy smiled, “I guess I’ll just have to teach him a lesson about that as well, teach him not to go being the hero. Because he isn’t, is he? He’ll always have to hide behind people just the slightest bit bigger and braver than himself.”

“Leave him alone, your tiff isn’t with him,” Harry snapped.

“You’re right, Potter,” Malfoy walked up to him, invading his personal space, “My problem _is_ with you, and your pathetic, half-blood, adopted mutt of a sister.”

“The only pathetic person here is the one who has been punched so hard that they bleed… and the only one here who can claim that prize is you,” I snapped, standing up to him and invading his personal space on Harry’s other side.

“I could take you in a fight any day, Johsnon,” Malfoy sneered, “It’s a real cowardly thing to punch someone when they aren’t ready for it, and aren’t expecting it.”

“It’s a real cowardly thing to take on and beat up the people smaller and weaker than yourself and simply speak big words to the people who are an actual threat to you,” I hissed.

“I wouldn’t expect a girl like you to understand the real rules of a man’s fight, especially such a… _savage_ … one” Malfoy laughed cruelly, “And since Potter has only ever grown up with girls and savages, I guess he counts as one.”

“I’d be very, very careful with any sexist and racist comments you say around my cousin,” Harry said in a low voice, “She might _actually_ kill you. And if she doesn’t, I will.”

“Prove it,” Malfoy said strongly, stepping back from us and backing towards the staircase, “I challenge you to a duel. You don’t even know what one is, you poor sheltered babies.”

“Of course we know what a duel is,” I snapped back, completely clueless of course, “Name the time and the place.”

“The trophy room, at midnight,” Malfoy replied promptly, “I assume you’ll fight together, so I’ll be bringing Crabbe with me. Till then,” and he walked off briskly down to the dungeons.

Harry turned to me angrily, “What happened to not fighting Malfoy for Neville? Not sticking up for him?”

“I agreed to stop sticking up for Neville,” I said coldly, “I never said anything about not sticking up for myself.”

I started walking over to the stairs to go up to the seventh floor, where the common room was, before turning around to add, “I don’t expect you to come with me. I’d appreciate it, because I figured we were in everything together, but I don’t expect you to.” And I went upstairs to the Common Room, leaving him behind in the Entrance Hall. I didn’t even stop to say hello to Neville in the Common Room, figuring he still blamed me for his pain, and instead went upstairs to my room to stare up at the ceiling above my four-poster.

It was a little before midnight when I crept downstairs to the Common Room. I was expecting it to be empty as I snuck towards the door to leave, but instead I saw Harry standing there, his arms folded in front of his chest.

“We are in this together,” Harry stated calmly. I looked at him incredulously.

“I’m sorry that I was hesitant to fight Malfoy after hours in the middle of some part of the castle we’ve never been,” Harry continued, “And I’m sorry for being lippy just now. We are in this together and I want to fight Malfoy as much as you do. I want to get him back for being a git. But I had my misgivings and I’m sorry.”

“What made you change your mind?” I asked as I stepped towards him.

“I never changed my mind,” Harry paused, “I knew I was going to come with you. But I don’t want you under the impression I approve fully. You’ve gotten detentions and points off since the second we got here and sneaking around at night…”

“It’s a little exciting, isn’t it?” I grinned. Harry rolled his eyes but couldn’t help but smile in return.

“Honestly, if you weren’t here I’m sure I would be just as bad as you. You force me to be somewhat sane,” Harry rolled his eyes.

“The thing is Harry, you realize how insulting and horrible he’s been, right? Racist, anti-muggles, sexist, the whole nine. I have to confront him,” I sighed.

“I know,” Harry paused, “I’m sorry. Sometimes I don’t notice that stuff.”

“Well, I’ll help you notice it better, since I can’t help to,” I sighed.

Harry frowned, “I’m sorry Maggie.”

“It’s okay,” I shrugged. We both made a move towards the door and I turned to give him a large hug. He laughed and returned it.

“This Hogwarts thing is going to be a bit more difficult than we imagined, eh?” I said into his shoulder. He laughed in response and pulled back from the hug.

“I expect so,” Harry grinned.

“Please don’t do it, guys,” I heard a timid voice call out behind us.

We turned around to see Neville standing at the base of the staircase, still in his pajamas, which I was entertained to see had footies. It was adorable.

“Neville, we aren’t doing it for you, not this time,” I stated calmly, “We’re doing it because he insulted me, and to a lesser extent Harry.”

“Still, don’t. I don’t want Gryffindor to get into trouble and he’ll just beat me up again,” Neville sighed.

“Neville…” I groaned, realizing it would be almost impossible to persuade him before it was time, “Just… come with us.”

“Wha’?” Neville asked.

“Just… we don’t have time to argue so just come along,” I stated calmly.

“Well you will have to argue with me,” I heard Hermione Granger call from the girl’s staircase. I groaned as I looked at her as she came down, in her usual silk pajamas.

“Hermione…” I sighed in exasperation.

“Don’t Hermione me,” she snapped, “You don’t want to go about getting into more trouble, Maggie. And Harry, you’re on very thin ice as it is.

“We need to do this,” Harry sighed.

“No, you really do not. Has it even _occurred_ to you that this probably will be a trap?” Hermione demanded.

I sighed, “Of course it is. But we still need to go.”

Hermione scowled and I continued, “We’re going, and if you don’t want to follow you don’t have to. If you want to follow, go right ahead. But we don’t have time to argue this anymore.”

Harry and I turned to leave and we heard both Neville and Hermione following behind us. Harry looked at me in irritation and I shrugged hopelessly.

The castle at night was foreboding and eerie. Dark shadows lined the walls and flickered in the moonlight from outside the windows. We crept along, as silent as we could, and walking down and silently through the corridors. I was terrified as we did so, realizing exactly how much trouble I would be in if we were caught. This was beyond any other shenanigan I had pulled, and I finally felt some fear.

We finally reached the Trophy Room, which was about as far from the Common Room as you could get, and of _course_ it was empty. Harry and I both groaned quietly in realization that at any moment…

“Follow me, my sweet… they should be around here…” the lovely voice of Mr. Filch could be heard around the corner.

“I _told_ you!” Hermione hissed.

“Go!” Harry responded, in equal annoyance. We snuck out the back of the Trophy Room, but had to keep going through the hallways. We were completely lost, unable to find our way back to the Common Room as we snuck around trying to escape from Filch. Neville seemed to be whimpering behind us and I felt like probably the worst person ever born for inflicting this on him.

We were trapped in the middle of a corridor, the only way out a large door, completely trapped. Harry didn’t even think and opened the door and we followed him in, slamming the door behind us and all panting anxiously. But we didn’t even have the time to rest- a low growl filled the room. Neville immediately began whimpering and I felt something warm and slimy hit the top of my head. I touched my head in disgust to look up and see a giant, literally monstrous, three-headed _dog_.

Harry, Hermione and I had looked up at once and we all immediately screamed. We ran out, choosing expulsion over death, and ran through the hallways.

Now I realized, of course. We were on the third floor. Now that that was evident, we managed to navigate back to the staircases, up to the third floor, somehow avoiding Filch on the way.

We reached the Gryffindor Common Room and Neville collapsed to the ground, clearly still terrorized. Before the rest of us could say anything he got up and walked up to the boy’s dormitory without saying anything at all to any of us. I realized, in that moment, that I probably had lost his friendship. I sighed mournfully and turned, ready to loose Hermione – and probably Harry – as well.

“I can’t believe that they have that on the third floor,” Harry gasped breathlessly.

“Never mind that – did you see what it was standing on?” Hermione demanded angrily.

“I didn’t have time between _holy crap it has three heads_ and _get the hell out of here_ to look down at its feet, sorry,” I sighed. I knew I sounded defeated and I kind of felt that way.

“Well it was standing on a trap door, meaning it was guarding something. Now, I’m going to bed, before you two get us killed, or worse… expelled,” Hermione snapped, before walking up to our dormitory.

I turned to Harry sadly, “You’re going to cast me off too?”

“Naw,” Harry shook his head, “We’ve gotten ourselves into scrapes like this before. Remember the cave fiasco when you were ten and I was nine?”

“I still have nightmares sometimes,” I smiled a little. Harry laughed.

“Well, I’m just saying, after that I was still your friend. This was as much my idea as it was yours. Am I irritated with how it went? Of course. Am I even madder at Malfoy than ever? Certainly. Am I mad at you? Nah. You were just being you,” Harry smiled and patted me on the arm, “Don’t worry about them too much either. This isn’t such a big deal as to warrant lifetime hatred.”

“Maybe with Hermione,” I sighed, “But I am worried about Neville.”

“Neville’s had one of the worst days of his life,” Harry reasoned, “You can’t help but understand him not wanting to deal with you right now.”

“Yeah…” I sighed, “Well, goodnight Harry.”

“Night Maggie,” he smiled and walked up to the boy’s dormitory.

The next day, Malfoy looked surprised to see us still students at the school. But Hermione and Neville both made a point to ignore Harry and me, which we had been expecting. Harry would still talk to Ron, but I basically only had Harry as a companion. Occasionally I would talk to Siobhan, but I had managed to spread a reputation around school by now as a bit of a loose cannon. Not many wanted to talk to me, especially since it seemed like Hermione and Neville were furious with me or terrified of me, respectively. So it was just Harry and I, and Ron occasionally coming to annoy me beyond belief.

This continued on, pleasing Malfoy to no end, until Halloween.

We were in Charms. Unfortunately, without me having an investment in defending Hermione (and Neville) to our fellow Gryffindors, she was at the mercy of the teasing of Ron, Seamus, and even Dean to an extent.

We were practicing the hover charm and, somehow, Hermione had been partnered with Ron to work on it. I was with Harry, of course. The reason Neville wasn’t with Hermione was because, somehow, Siobhan didn’t want to work with Ron and got out of it. Harry and I were near enough to hear everything that was being said.

“It’s _Lev-i-O-sa,_ not Levio-SA,” Hermione emphasized, “You’re saying it wrong!”

“You do it then, if you’re so _clever_ ,” Ron sneered.

“Wingardium Leviosa!” Hermione pronounced – rather perfectly, I might add – and her feather lifted up elegantly from her desk.

“Look everyone!” Professor Flitwick cheerfully declared, “Miss Granger’s done it!”

“Show off,” Ron muttered. I looked over at him and wanted to tell him off, before remembering (for the umpteenth time) that I wasn’t Hermione’s friend anymore.

We left the classroom, I forced to walk with Ron and Harry afterwards as Ron had walked up to Harry to talk to him about… well, Hermione.

“She’s unbearable, isn’t she?” Ron sighed, “You obviously realized it.”

“I wouldn’t say that…” Harry answered slowly.

“Course you did, you stopped hanging about with her, even Maggie has,” Ron nodded at me, “The point is is that she’s a horrible know it all, really annoying and bossy and no one can stand her because of this, not even Maggie, not even you. I mean seriously, she almost annoys me more than Malfoy. No wonder she hasn’t got any friends anymore,” Ron shook his head almost mournfully.

I was suddenly bumped into and I watched in horror as a head of hair much bushier than mine hurried past us through the castle. I was horrified that Hermione had heard that – after all, I hadn’t stopped being her friend, she had stopped being mine. I didn’t mind her that much at _all_ , in fact I rather liked her.

I looked at Harry in shock and he mirrored my expression.

“You shouldn’t have said that, Ron,” Harry said sternly, “To be honest, _we_ pissed _her_ off. And she isn’t that bad.”

I nodded in agreement and took off into a run, chasing through the corridors all the way through the school. I finally found Hermione in one of the girl’s bathrooms, and walked in cautiously. A Ravenclaw third year saw me, clearly following the sobbing girl, and left respectfully. I walked into the bathroom and stood outside the stall.

“Hermione?” I asked calmly.

“Go away,” she sobbed, “You hate me, so why are you even here?”

“Hermione, I don’t hate you. I never hated you,” I sighed, “I thought you hated me for that whole fiasco in the trophy room, so I gave you space. I didn’t want to push in where I wasn’t wanted.”

“Well Harry hates me,” she continued to sob.

“Harry doesn’t hate you either, he just stood up for you against Weasley,” I soothed quietly, “You’re just a bit overwhelming for Harry. But I like you a lot – I was really glad we were friends. And I want to be friends again.”

“You do?” Hermione sniffled.

“Course I do,” I laughed, “I can’t just hang around with Harry all the time, can I? And then there’s the issue that Ron will come and hang out with us whenever it’s just Harry and me, and it drives me mental. I can’t take him for too long.”

“What’s your threshold?” Hermione laughed weakly.

“Two seconds. Come on, Hermione. He was wrong. You do have friends. You have me, you have Neville…”

“Neville doesn’t want to talk to any of us anymore,” Hermione sobbed, “He picked to partner up with Siobhan, not me.”

“Oh,” I mumbled, “I’m sorry, Hermione.”

“It’s alright,” she sighed.

“Maybe if you just tone it down a little? Loosen up a bit?” I suggested. Hermione sighed again.

“People told me that all the time in primary school. Remember? I’m used to not having friends.”

“I repeat – we’re friends. And Harry will come round, I promise. You’re a really nice girl, I’m sure you’ll make lots of friends once you just loosen up the strings. Break a rule, answer a question wrong in class,” I laughed.

“I’ll try the first one… the second is just too much,” Hermione hiccupped, probably a laugh hiding behind a sob.

“Fair enough,” I smiled, “Do you want to be alone? I don’t mind missing the feast.”

“It’s the Halloween feast,” Hermione sighed, “Go enjoy it. I’ll be along. But… thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” I murmured softly. I went off to the feast, feeling a little better about everything, and went to sit with Harry.

“How is she?” Harry asked calmly. I noticed Ron was down at the other side of the table with Seamus and Dean again.

“I think I cheered her up a bit by promising that I really am her friend… and you are too,” I smiled weakly.

“She thought we ditched her?” Harry asked in shock, “Well then. Now I feel _really_ horrible.”

“It’s OK, I think it’s going to be better now,” I smiled, “C’mon, let’s eat some food.”

Harry looked down at the other end of the first years at Neville, who was eating alone again.

“And Neville?” he asked very softly as we ate the many pumpkin flavored foods.

“His choice,” I responded quietly, “I don’t want to push on him. We terrified him quite a lot and his life has been pretty quiet since then.”

“You’re right,” Harry agreed, “I just feel terrible.”

“One day he’ll come round,” I whispered hopefully, “And then we’ll both get on our knees to apologize for being prats.”

“No more night wandering?” Harry asked.

“I think this is a pact we have to make,” I laughed in response.

Suddenly, the doors to the Great Hall opened and Professor Quirrell came running in, completely frenetic and terrified. We all looked at him silently as he shouted out “TROLL IN THE DUNGEON! TROLL IN THE DUNGEON!”

The entire hall went even more dead silent as he whispered, “Thought you ought to know,” and collapsed onto the ground.

Everyone immediately started screaming. I’m proud to say I did not join them in doing so, however I did stand up calmly and looked at Harry. He wasn’t nearly as scared as our surrounding students either.

“SILENCE!” Professor Dumbledore shouted. We all looked at him calmly, everyone stopping their movements and staring at the head table.

“If everyone will please not panic… the Prefects will lead their houses back to the dormitories. The professors will come with me down to the dungeons. Everyone will go in an orderly fashion,” Professor Dumbledore ordered.

Harry and I began following Percy Weasley calmly before I realized something in terror. I turned to Harry who looked back at me with a very similar expression.

“Hermione!” we both gasped. We managed to sneak out of the line and sprinted towards the girl’s bathroom, literally running as quickly as we could in unison down the hallway.

We were stopped in our tracks by the sight of a large shadow, accompanied by very loud and angry grunts, walking through the corridor.

“Oh, shit,” I whispered under my breath.

“Maggie!” Harry gasped in shock.

“Oh shut it, this calls for that word… it’s headed to the girl’s bathroom,” I whispered. Harry’s eyes widened in recognition and we crept around to the bathroom. We walked to the door and I grimaced at Harry as I opened it.

Hermione was crouched underneath a sink, screaming at the top of her lungs as the troll- an ugly, horrible sight- lifted up his club to smash it over her. She managed to roll underneath another sink to avoid the club. I ran in and over to the side, shouting “HEY! LOOK AT ME YOU UGLY THING!” and jumping up and down, doing jumping jacks even. The troll, a dumb beast, turned to see me and lumbered over to attack me.

Harry then ran up and leapt onto the back of the troll’s neck, holding round it with his arms. I ran forward and grabbed the club in my hands, holding onto it as the troll spun it around.

“ _Maggie, what are you doing?_ ” Hermione shouted from a corner.

“I DON’T KNOW!” I responded, gripping onto the club for dear life as the troll swung it madly back and forth. Eventually I managed to gain a grip with my feet on the top of one of the stalls, the troll distracted by Harry putting his wand up its nose.

As the troll tried to sneeze out the wand, I pushed my legs off from the bathroom stall as hard as I could, swinging forward into the troll, managing to kick the beast in the chest. The troll roared and sneezed at the same time as I swung back once more to the stall.

“You can do it, Maggie!” Hermione encouraged from her hideaway.

I grunted with the effort, pushed myself harder, and managed to swing upwards to kick the troll in th chin. He swayed dangerously around and I lept from the troll, grabbing Harry’s arm with me to fall down to the ground, away from the troll as it collapsed, knocked out. I groaned in pain, having hit my head hard on the ground, my legs aching from the force of my kicks. Harry got up rather quickly though.  

“You alright Hermione?” Harry asked, genuinely concerned.

“Yeah,” she smiled weakly, “I’m alright.”

“Maggie?” Harry turned to me next.

“Thanks for asking,” I grunted in pain.

“You’re the one who _decided to kick a bloody troll in the face,”_ Harry groaned.

“What else could I have done!” I shouted weakly, forcing myself up from the ground and rubbing my head.

“ _Anything else!_ ” Harry shouted.

“Maggie?” Hermione asked, crawling over to where I was resting. 

“In pain, thanks for asking,” I repeated

Professor McGonagall, of course, then came in followed most of the professors. We turned to him, all of us fearing expulsion once again.

“What… please… explain…” Professor McGonagall stammered.

“It was my fault, Professor,” Hermione stated calmly. Professor McGonagall looked as shocked as we felt.

“I know a lot about trolls – read all about them, you see. And, well, I thought I could defeat him on my own. Harry and Maggie knew what I had done and if they hadn’t come and found me I’d probably be dead,” Hermione lied smoothly. I looked at Harry in shock but he stepped on my foot angrily.

Professor McGonagall sighed, looking furious, “That’s very irresponsible of you Miss Granger and I expected better of you. Five points from Gryffindor. As for you two… well, you are very lucky that you weren’t killed. But you were very brave, so for sheer dumb luck I award you both five points,” Professor McGonagall nodded, “Are you hurt, Miss Johnson?”

I nodded.

“Both of you, help her to the Hospital Wing, immediately.”

We all walked slowly out of the bathroom. I looked at Hermione in amazement as she and Harry supported me on either side.

“Just trying to loosen up a bit,” Hermione beamed. I laughed as they aided me up to the wing, chatting amicably.

In the end, nothing beat good friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey Guys! I'm currently a senior in college and writing my thesis, so I haven't had time to edit lately. But I needed a break! I hope you enjoyed this chapter.


	6. Chapter Five: November 1st - Just Before the Christmas Holiday, 1991, Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Just living on a Sunday morning,
> 
> got my toast and tea and I'm warm and
> 
> I just thought I'd think about.
> 
> All the things to get and keep getting,
> 
> never enough not enough and never ending.
> 
> I just thought I'd think about....
> 
> And it might be...
> 
> The comfort of a knowledge of a rise above the sky
> 
> but could never parallel the challenge of an acquisition in the
> 
> here and now, here and now."
> 
> ~ Letters to Cleo, "Here & Now"

Chapter Five: November 1st – Just Before the Christmas Holiday, 1991, Hogwarts

Being from Braemar, I was used to being cold. Hence, the change from the beginning of fall to the transition of winter was a welcome moment, rather than a dreaded one. I didn’t even change any of my wardrobe choices, but simply reveled in the joy of feeling chilly for once.

Harry had begun Quidditch Practices, and the first game against Slytherin was coming up rapidly. The schoolwork was piling on even more now and Hermione was the only way Harry even managed to make a dent in it. Needless to say, he was very grateful for her now, and they got along better than ever. In fact, she lent him a book that he never stopped pouring over – _Quidditch through the Ages_. I must confess that I barely even knew the rules, and I didn’t have much interest to learn about it, even though I could have done with flying pointers. There was just something about the unnatural shape and composition of the broom that drove me mental. Not to mention, I was officially out of Flying Class after the Troll incident and I had to recover from a mild concussion, twisted knee and sprained ankle.

Hermione definitely ‘loosened up,’ and as we went outside to study on the grounds the day before Harry’s first Quidditch match she conjured up a bright blue fire that she stuck in a jar. We sat around the jar with our backs to it for warmth, though I didn’t think I needed it much, when Professor Snape walked out onto the grounds.

Our teatime chats weren’t very frequent, especially since after the Three Headed Dog incident I had toned down my cheek enough that they weren’t really necessary. However, during them we would chat about not Harry, not school, but my mum and home life. He seemed to find that was the only thing he could really talk to me about, actually. When school or Harry came up he spoke on the subjects awkwardly or angrily, respectively. So I learned to just go along with his chosen, overworked topic of conversation.

He started limping after Halloween, however, and it was extraordinarily noticeable as he came towards us on the grounds. The three of us clustered closer around the fire to block it from Snape’s view, though Hermione seemed rather unphased. He walked over to us, however, limping even more heavily through the cold.

“What’s that you’ve got there, Potter?’ he demanded angrily. Harry showed him his Quidditch book innocently.

“Library books are not to be taken outside the school. Give it to me, and five points from Gryffindor,” Snape demanded, taking the book away from Harry.

“He made that up,” Harry muttered, “His leg’s a new thing since yesterday.”

“Looks painful, if that’s any consolation,” I responded in equal annoyance. Snape was more stubborn than I was, and this drove me crazy.

“I’ve definitely read library books outside,” Hermione commented thoughtfully, “I suppose you’ll just have to go and get it back this afternoon Harry.”

“Great. Because I love having more excuses to go and see Snape,” Harry replied bitterly.

“I’ll go if you want me to,” I offered calmly, already grabbing my crutches.

“No, I’ll go. It’s my book. Wouldn’t want Snape thinking I can’t handle my own issues, and I don’t want you hurting yourself even more,” Harry scowled, “Shall we go back inside, then? Maybe it’s less crowded now.”

We all nodded in agreement and went up to the castle. After a time, as we all were sitting around and doing nothing in particular – we’d finished our homework for the weekend and I was just trying to teach myself wizard’s chess, along with Hermione. Harry watched us doing so anxiously, and I could tell he was nervous for tomorrow.

“Alright, the book says that this move requires you to…” Hermione had her nose in a Chess beginner’s book and looked up at Harry in annoyance, “Oh, just go get the book back. Find something to do to get your mind off the game.”

Harry sighed, “D’you think he’d be at the staff office?”

I nodded, “I think so. Just go in there, he can’t keep it from you forever, it’s not even yours.”

He got up and turned around to look at us from the portrait hole, “Hermione, would you like to…?”

She shook her head in amusement and Harry sighed, “Alright then. See you later.”

Hermione and I continued to work through the beginner’s wizard chess book, though we were both dreadful at it, truly. Neville came down from the boy’s dormitory and walked past us, not saying anything to either of us. I felt my heart weigh down heavily but I didn’t say anything to Hermione about it, not wanting to worry her over my petty sadness at having let Neville down.

When Harry came back it was a sudden occurrence. He walked up to us in amazement and sat with us at our table.

“Well I see you don’t have the book. But what’s wrong?” I asked conversationally, only just now looking up from the chess board.

Harry bent down towards us and began whispering, “I went down to the staffroom. No one answered my knock so I opened the door to grab the book, thinking Snape must have left it there. But he was in there with _Filch_ , and he had his robes lifted above his knee- he was showing his leg to Filch and it was bloody and mangled. Filch was helping him bandage it when I walked in, and he definitely said, “How do you keep your eyes on all three heads at once?” He then got mad at me and I ran out of there, but…”

“He tried to get past the three headed dog?” I asked in confusion.

“That’s got to be what it means!” Harry nodded eagerly, “And he stopped limping after Halloween. He’s after whatever it’s guarding! And he probably let the troll in so it would be a distraction from what he was doing! Maybe it’s guarding the thing from Gringotts!”

Hermione looked puzzled, “But what could he be after that was being guarded?”

“Oh right, we were going to ask you…. On Harry’s birthday a vault in Gringotts was broken into that had been emptied on that day, so we were going to ask you what sort of thing could have been so valuable at Gringotts.” I explained in a hushed and rushed whisper.

“But why do you think whatever it was would have been brought here?” Hermione asked softly.

“I dunno, but it seems strange, doesn’t it? Someone tries to steal something from Gringotts the day that thing is taken out? Someone _taking something out of Gringotts_ , the safest place to store stuff?” I explained.

“Honestly Hogwarts is the only place that’s safer,” Hermione paused, “If only we knew who emptied the vault… and this thing about Snape… why would he want whatever it is? Was he the thief? Why else would he try to get past the dog?” Hermione sighed.  

Harry shook his head to indicate he didn’t understand any better than we did. We all went to bed; him still clearly terrified as well as now troubled. I worried as I went to bed that he wouldn’t be able to pull it together enough to concentrate the next day for the game.

We all went down to breakfast the next day, Hermione and I both decked out in as much Gyrffindor wear as we could find. Harry wasn’t in his Quidditch robes yet, dressed in a simple sweater and jeans, looking down at his food and not touching a bite of it.

“You know what Mum would say if you didn’t eat anything, Harry,” I sighed calmly.

“I don’t want anything,” Harry replied in a bit of mumble, just staring down at his plate.

“Just some toast,” Hermione suggested, offering a plate to him.

“I’m not hungry,” Harry retorted, indeed looking more like he was about to be sick. He got up from the table and walked back to the Common Room, evidently to get dressed. I looked across at Hermione in sadness and she shook her head.

“He’ll be fine, he’s just… well, terrified by the looks of it. But I’m sure he’ll be fine,” Hermione didn’t look convinced of her words as she looked down to her plate and ate her bacon. I turned and nibbled on some toast when Neville walked over to us and sat next to Hermione, also decked out in Gryffindor wear.

“Can I talk to you, Maggie?” Neville asked quietly.

“Sure, Neville,” I responded, very shocked and letting that sentiment enter my voice.

“Alone,” Neville amended. Hermione looked at him in surprise and got up, but Neville shook his head.

“You’re eating, we can leave,” Neville murmured. Hermione looked at me in confusion and I shrugged in response, getting up and walking out of the Great Hall with Neville, going off to one of the empty staircases.

“Hey Neville, what’s up,” I asked calmly, trying to pretend the last few weeks hadn’t happened.

“You know what’s up,” Neville sighed, before continuing on, “I’m sorry for how I’ve been acting.”

“You had every right to act in this way, Neville,” I responded calmly, “I’m sorry I put you in those situations. It wasn’t my job to try and protect you and it just lead to more trouble, as you’re aware. So I’m sorry.”

“Well, I shouldn’t have been so ungrateful. You were only trying to help and you really didn’t mean for Malfoy to come after me after you punched him in the face. So it’s not your fault, and it was really kind of you actually that you went and tried to help by teaching Malfoy a lesson,” Neville paused, “And I’m sorry for following you guys out to meet him at midnight. I might have been rather upset about getting beat up again and didn’t think clearly.”

“It really wasn’t provoked by you, you know,” I sighed, “Malfoy made some sexist and racist comments that I couldn’t let him get away with. Was I mad about you? Yeah. But I wouldn’t have done the stupid trophy room stunt without what he said to me.”

“I know,” Neville nodded, “And again, I’m sorry for blowing it so out of proportion. And I’m sorry for avoiding you afterwards. I just… I didn’t feel like getting into that sort of situation again so soon after the last time.”

“I understand that. I forced my friendship on you, too. You didn’t seek me out; you didn’t want to be my friend. So I apologize for that,” I murmured kindly.

“No, I… I was glad to be your friend. I was glad to be _anyone’s_ friend, actually. But I just… well, I still just think you pitied me, not that you actually liked me or wanted to hang out with me in any way, so I didn’t want you to have to… waste your time on me,” Neville shrugged meekly.

“What?” I gasped quietly, “Neville… I don’t just pity you. That’s not the only reason I wanted to be your friend.”

“It’s not?” Neville asked skeptically.

“Course not,” I smiled, “I won’t deny that I pity you. It’s kind of impossible for me to deny that. But when I met you on the train I thought you a nice, quiet, kind boy. I find it admirable that you’re shy and that you’re sweet. I mean, so many guys this day are too… well, they have to be right about everything, they can be kind of nasty, and they just drive me irritated to no end. Harry isn’t like that. But Ron, Seamus, Malfoy, they are… Dean isn’t, really. And I wanted to be your friend because, well, I’m a huge tomboy so I get along with guys better than girls, that’s just plain fact, and you seemed like a good genuine boy rather than some sort of stuck-up looser. And that’s the truth.”

Neville smiled weakly, “But you’re so brave, I must drive you crazy because I don’t stick up for myself.”

“First off, I don’t know if I count as brave anymore. I was horrifically reckless our first two weeks of school. And though you and Hermione and a giant mutant dog shocked me into meekness, it won’t last long,” I shook my head, “I don’t think you want to aspire to my brand of bravery. Second off, because of my pure insanity, I try to surround myself with friends who will balance me out. Harry is a much milder version of myself and our friendship has been honed and refined for years now. And Hermione is brave, but not reckless in the slightest, so she’s perfect. And you’re not reckless at all either, and you’re also not so stubborn a person… so self-righteous a person… that you give nice balance on that front. And third off, you _are_ brave, Neville,” I beamed.

“What?” Neville shook his head in disbelief, “I am not.”

“You are too,” I laughed, “The Sorting Hat put you in Gryffindor, did it not?”

Neville sighed, “I disagreed with the hat for a very long time on that one. We argued the entire time.”

“Oh?” I asked in surprise, unaware you had any sort of choice with the hat at all.

“Yeah. I thought I should be in Hufflepuff. The Hat was insistent I belonged in Gryffindor.”

“Well there you go,” I gestured, “The Hat does know some things.”

“But _why_ ,” Neville shook his head, “I don’t make any _sense_. You and Harry and even Hermione make sense as Gryffindors. I don’t belong. I’m a misfit.”

“You’re not a misfit. You’re very, _very_ brave. You just have a different kind of bravery. There are all sorts of different types,” I smiled, “I’m brave in the way that I don’t care what happens as a result, I have to do what I think is right because it is right, regardless of the consequences. Harry is brave in that he will face any challenge head on, no matter how scary- he’ll fight a giant dragon if it comes to it. He fought a pack of wolves when we were kids with a giant stick and he didn’t look scared at all. Hermione is brave because, even though she cares what people think about her, she doesn’t let it stop her from being herself and standing up for what _she_ believes in- she get past her fear of rejection to do it. Do you understand what I’m getting at so far?”

Neville nodded, though still looking skeptical.

“Well, you’re brave in that you aren’t afraid to pick yourself back up again. You work hard in every class, even potions, despite failure you’ve suffered in the past. You came to Hogwarts even though you yourself said you didn’t show much magical ability. You went to our second flying lesson without any hesitation. And you face Malfoy every day, even though you’re probably terrified, because you must. You’re a silent sufferer, which is just as brave as all the other types. You don’t let anyone know about your pain, either – you wouldn’t tell us after Malfoy had beat you up what had happened, you didn’t complain about your wrist from falling, and you don’t tell us exactly how much you suffer from Snape, or from not understanding what’s going on in a class. And you don’t ever speak of what happened to your parents so that you have to live with your Gran,” I realized aloud, “You haven’t told anyone. None of us have any idea. You don’t use that tragedy in your life to get ahead or to make friends or to garner less… self-deprecating pity. You put it aside and brave the storm without help and without consolation. And that is a great bravery all its own.”

Neville looked at me, clearly still shocked by my words. I leaned over to hug him, “You really are brave, Neville. And when you really start believing in yourself, I’m sure you’ll start showing those other, more obvious versions of bravery too.”

Neville looked at me when I pulled back from the hug with a weak smile.

“You’re a really good friend, Maggie,” Neville murmured softly.

“I try. When I like someone, I really try,” I laughed, “So we _are_ friends again, and that speech wasn’t just a waste of air?”

“We are,” Neville smiled weakly, “Shall we go to the Quidditch Match?”

“I can’t miss my brother’s first game,” I nodded, “Let’s hurry.”

We meandered together through the castle out to the grounds, to the Quidditch Pitch. It was a chilly morning, even for me, and I wrapped my scarf more tightly around my face. We reached the Gryffindor section, where Hermione was waiting for me and waving her hand wildly in the air.

“Hey Maggie! Hello Neville,” she smiled at us from underneath her scarf, “How are you both?”

“Excited,” I beamed, “And terrified.”

“Of course. I’m just hoping he doesn’t get pummeled _too_ bad,” Hermione sighed, “Do you have the banner?”

“Course,” I laughed, taking it out of my robes. Dean Thomas then walked up and grinned at us.

“Did my drawing hold up?” he asked as I unrolled the banner. It said “Potter for President!” And it had a large Gryffindor lion at the bottom.

“Your drawing is fantastic, Dean, thank you,” I beamed at him.

“Well, I’m going to try something here,” Hermione mused as she pulled out her wand. She waved it and began muttering a little, and suddenly the paint on the banner flashed between all the different colors of the rainbow. Dean, Neville and I oohed in appreciation.

“Brilliant, Hermione,” I praised. She beamed at me and we each took a corner of the banner. Neville helped out by holding the portion next to me, and Dean did the same with the portion next to Hermione.

“Oi, Johnson,” I heard a voice call out. I turned to see Ron and Seamus standing near us, neatly bundled up as well.

“Nice banner,” Ron finished, nodding with a slight smile. I managed to return it, despite my disapproval of him.

“Thanks Weasley,” I called out as we all turned back to face the Quidditch pitch.

Madam Hooch walked out onto the middle of the field. She asked the players for a nice, fair game and I could see Harry’s messy black hair from up where I was. She then threw the Quaffle (at least, that’s what I _thought_ the red ball was) up high into the air, and a Gryffindor teammate caught it.

The announcer, a boy I knew to be Lee Jordan, one of the Weasley twins’ (whom I liked a whole lot more than I liked Ron) friends, spoke, “And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor – what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too – “

“JORDAN!” Professor McGonagall shouted over the microphone.

“Sorry, Professor,” Lee responded as I burst into giggles, along with Neville, Dean and Hermione next to me.

“And she’s really belting along up there, a neat pass to Alicia Spinnet, a good friend of Oliver Wood’s, last year only a reserve – back to Johnson and – no, the Slytherins have taken the Quaffle.”

We all booed at the top of our lungs.

“Slytherin Captain Marcus Flint gains the Quaffle and off he goes – Flint flying like an eagle up there – he’s going to sc – no, stopped by an excellent move by Gryffindor Keeper Wood and the Gryffindors take the Quaffle.”

We all cheered, Hermione even bouncing up and down a little in excitement. It was rather uncharacteristic of her and I grinned at her in amusement. She blushed and stopped her bouncing and I shook my head, completely amused now.

“That’s Chaser Katie Bell of Gryffindor there, nice dive around Flint, off up the field and – OUCH – that must have hurt, hit in the back of the head by a Bludger – The Quaffle taken by the Slytherins…”

“Damn it!” Dean shouted at the top of his lungs. Neville, Hermione and I looked at him in shock and he shrugged slightly.

“Sorry, I get into these things. You should see me with muggle football,” Dean shook his head sadly. Hermione smiled in recognition and even I knew a little about it from going to the village with my parents, so I nodded. Only Neville looked confused, but as he was used to that he just brushed it off and kept watching.

“That’s Adrian Pucey speeding off toward the goal posts, but he’s blocked by a second Bludger – sent his way by Fred or George Weasley, can’t tell which…”

We all laughed in appreciation.

“Nice play by the Gryffindor Beater, anyway, and Johnson back in possession of the Quaffle, a clear field ahead and off she goes – she’s really flying – dodges a speeding Bludger – the goal posts are ahead – come on, now, Angelina – Keeper Bletchley dives – misses – GRYFFINDORS SCORE!”

We all cheered at the top of our lungs and Hermione dropped her side of the banner to hug me. Dean moved forward to grab it and Neville shifted over too, so now Hermione was standing with me, flushed a little bit. I laughed and shook my head.

“Well, it’s important to Harry, so…” Hermione responded, blushing.

“Course, I’m just glad to see you cut loose this much,” I grinned, “Let’s hope he’ll catch that snitch soon, eh?”

Suddenly we heard the movement and scurrying of students behind us. We turned around to see Hagrid walking up towards us, moving aside students as he did so.

“Hagrid!” we both called, waving him over. He came to stand with us and beamed.

“Been watchin’ from me hut, but t’isn’t the same as bein’ in the crowd. No sign of the Snitch yet, eh?”

“No,” I sighed, “We were just hoping for that.”

“Keep outta trouble, though, tha’s something,” Hagrid nodded, taking out a pair of binoculars and looking up at the sky where Harry was.

“I get nervous by the second,” I commented, “There’s a lot of chances to get hurt…”

“Didn’ think you would get worried about tha’, Maggie,” Hagrid chuckled softly.

“For _me_ getting hurt. This is my brother we’re talking about here. I have every right to worry about _his_ pain,” I shook my head sadly.

“Fair enough,” Hagrid laughed.

“Slytherin in possession,” Lee continued, “Chaser Pucey ducks between two Bludgers, two Weasley, and Chaser Bell, and speeds towards the – wait a moment – was that the Snitch?”

Pucey dropped the Quaffle and Harry dive bombed, heading towards the glint of gold that had been by the chaser moments before. I gripped the banner tightly and felt my teeth clench. He was going as fast as the Slytherin seeker, they were racing along in unison. Suddenly Harry pulled out ahead of him, and he was close – very, very close – to the snitch. I held my breath, gripping the banner even tighter, watching in anxiety when Marcus Flint zoomed out in front of Harry and stopped him, causing him to go spiraling through the air.

“FOUL!” we all screamed, and I watched anxiously as Harry managed to get his broom back under control.

Gryffindor was given a penalty shot, but the Snitch had disappeared. Dean started to shout something about a football rule that didn’t apply to the situation at hand.

“So – after that obvious and disgusting bit of cheating – “ Lee continued commentating in a furious voice.

“Jordan!” Professor McGonagall hissed.

“I mean, after that open and revolting foul –“

“ _Jordan, I’m warning you –“_

“All right, all right. Flint nearly kills the Gryffindor seeker, which could happen to anyone, I’m sure, so a penalty to Gryffindor, taken by Spinnet, who puts it away, no trouble, and we continue to play, Gryffindor still in possession.”

I was watching Harry closely, terrified that he would get run into or hit again. I drew in a sharp breath as he dodged a bludger and held it in as his broom suddenly lurched forward. I felt my eyes widen and I poked Hermione, who watched Harry in similar shock. He was lurched forward again and, as he apparently tried to move, he couldn’t do so the broom started zigzagging forward and backward around, moving randomly, as though trying to buck him off.

“No!” I shouted, terrified, “What’s going on? Hermione, what’s happening?” I said all of this very fast.

“Slytherin in possession – Flint with the Quaffle – passes Spinnet – passes Bell – hit hard in the face by a Bludger, hope it broke his nose… only joking, professor… Slytherin score – oh no…”

“Has he lost control of his broom?” Hagrid asked, clearly confused, “This is a ruddy rotten joke to be playin’, otherwise.”

Everyone around us was starting to notice Harry’s predicament as well, as he started to roll around in midair. It suddenly jerked forward and Harry was hanging onto the broom by one hand.

“HARRY!” I screamed, tearing a little of the banner in my terror.

“Maybe Flint did something to his broom?” Dean asked, watching with wide eyes.

“Can’t have,” Hagrid sounded as terrified as I did, “Can’t nothing interfere with a broomstick except powerful Dark magic – no kid could do tha’ to a Nimbus Two Thousand.”

Hermione grabbed Hagrid’s binoculars and looked over at the teachers’ stands.

“What the heck are you doing, Hermione?” I demanded, starting to feel a little sick.

“I knew it,” Hermione gasped, “Snape – look!”

I took the binoculars and looked through. Snape was looking up at Harry, his eyes fixed on him, mouthing words obviously nonstop.

“He’s doing something – jinxing the broom,” Hermione stated.

I was in complete disbelief, “Hermione, I know Snape hates Harry, but why would he do this, in clear view of the other teachers… I don’t believe he’d ever want to kill Harry.”

“The evidence is clearly in front of you,” Hermione hissed, “Look, just leave it to me.”

I frowned as Hermione ducked out of the crowd and looked back up at Harry. His broom was vibrating violently and he was being jerked back and forth madly. Everyone in the crowd was watching anxiously and the Weasley twins were trying to help him onto their brooms, but the broom would just jerk out of the way when they tried.

I looked back over at Snape and saw he was still mouthing. I just couldn’t believe it. I looked wildly around for another person who was mouthing something and I saw, just above him, Professor Quirrell mouthing under his breath as well.

 _What?!_ I thought anxiously. It didn’t make any sense for the _Defense Against the Dark Arts_ teacher to be cursing Harry’s broom.

 _Is it Snape? And Quirrell’s trying to stop him?_ I frowned and almost tore the banner right through as Harry almost fell off his broom again. It just didn’t make any sense for _either_ of them to be trying to kill Harry. But I knew if I tried to tell that to Harry, or Hermione, or even Neville, they would all look at me in disbelief and probably call me a nutter.

I looked back over at the teachers and watched in amazement as bright blue flames erupted on Snape’s robes. The crowd around him started to freak out and everyone, including Quirrell, was distracted. In the intervening time, Harry managed to get back on his broom.

Neville, who had been sobbing, managed to stop and look up as Harry zoomed off towards the ground. I watched in terror, now convinced that he was being thrown all the way to the ground. He clapped his hand on his mouth and he fell onto the field, coughed, and something golden fell into his hands.

“I’ve got the Snitch!” he yelled, everyone able to hear him above the crowd. The crowds went into pandemonium, and Hermione came up to stand next to me again, looking right pleased with herself.

“Let’s go find Harry,” she suggested softly, “I want to talk about this. Hagrid?”

Hagrid nodded and we all walked down to the field and left with him out to Hagrid’s hut.

“It was Snape,” Hermione explained, “We saw him. He was cursing your broomstick, I know what it looks like.”

“Rubbish,” Hagrid insisted, “Why would Snape do somethin’ like tha’?”

I privately agreed with Hagrid as Harry explained, calmly, “I found out something about him. He tried to get past that three-headed dog on Halloween. It bit him. We think he was trying to steal whatever it’s guarding.”

Hagrid dropped his teapot in shock.

“How do you know about Fluffy?” he demanded.

“ _Fluffy?_ ”

“Yeah – he’s mine – bought him off a Greek chappie I met in the pub las’ year – I lent him to Dumbledore to guard the –“

“Yes?” Harry gasped.

“Now, don’t ask me anymore. That’s my secret, that is.”

“But Snape’s trying to _steal it_.”

“Rubbish. Snape’s a Hogwarts teacher, he’d do nothing of the sort,” Hagrid insisted.

“So why did he just try and kill Harry?” Hermione insisted, “I know a jinx when I see one, Hagrid, I’ve read all about them! You’ve got to keep eye contact, and Snape wasn’t blinking at all, I saw him!”

“I’m tellin’ yeh, yer wrong! I don’t know why Harry’s broom acted like that, but Snape wouldn’ try an’ kill a student! Now listen to me, all three of yeh – yer meddlin’ in things that don’ concern yeh. It’s dangerous. You forget that dog, an’ you forget what it’s guardin’, that’s between Professor Dumbledore an’ Nicolas Flamel –“

“So we gotta find out who Nicolas Flamel is? Excellent,” I laughed, glad to be off the topic of Snape and what he was up to. Hagrid looked furious with himself and we finished our tea in silence, going back up to the castle.

For the next few months before the Christmas Holidays, we spent an inordinate amount of time in the library. I was starting to feel like Hermione because of it, but we had to figure out who this Flamel character was. As Christmas approached, I got a letter from my parents dictating how excited they were that we were coming home for the holidays.

“I guess we can’t stay here to keep researching,” I sighed mournfully.

“Couldn’t we say we want to stay at school with some friends?” Harry asked, “I know you want to go home and see them and so do I, to be frank, but we can say lots of people stay at school during the Holidays…”

“Except they don’t. Hermione’s even going home,” I shook my head, “I don’t see how we can get out of this one.”

“You could say we need to stay behind for a project. Herbology or transfiguration or something, you have to stay behind to help a professor and I want to stay and keep you company,” Harry offered.

“What project would a first year be working on? Come to think of it, what project would a pre-NEWT student be working on?” I shook my head, “They won’t ever buy it.”

“You could try, you do impress those teachers so much,” Harry begged, “We can’t just sit around for two weeks not figuring anything out.”

“You’re right. I’ll try to come up with a good excuse,” I sighed. I went up to my room then, writing a letter about how I wanted to stay at school during the Holidays to work with Professor Sprout to keep the plants warm during the winter, as I had promised to help out in the Greenhouses when I could. This wasn’t even a lie; I liked Herbology enough to have promised this earlier. She just didn’t need my help keeping the plants warm, Neville had already volunteered for that. But it was close enough to the truth that I hoped it would be convincing as I sent off Darwin with the letter.

Sure enough, my parents mournfully agreed that it was okay for me and Harry to stay, and that they were proud of my interest in my studies. Hermione went off to her parents’ house under the full impression that we would continue to research, and hopefully discover the identity of, Nicolas Flamel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! Not a lot to change in the chapter. Hope you enjoyed it!


	7. Chapter Six: The Christmas Holidays, 1991-1992, Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Sweet dreams are made of this
> 
> Who am I to disagree?
> 
> I travel the world
> 
> And the seven seas
> 
> Everybody's looking for something."
> 
> ~ Eurythmics, "Sweet Dreams"

Chapter Six: The Christmas Holidays, 1991-1992, Hogwarts

Hogwarts at Christmas was absolutely fantastic. The entire castle was decked out with holly and Christmas trees and lights, and it felt even more magical than it had before. I didn’t even think that was possible.

The only first year Gryffindors left were Harry, Neville, (unfortunately) Ron, and I. As such, I had the entire dormitory to myself. It was quite nice to feel like I had my own room for once, and one could catch me at many moments dancing around in my pajamas to music only I could hear in my head (to complete the image, my pajamas consisted of short shorts and a tank top.)

Hermione had left with the parting command to try and discover what we could about Flamel, but once the Holidays had started it was rather hard to focus on all that. There were very few people left other than us first years and we always got to sit by the main fire. Harry and I would laugh and play exploding snap and plot how to get Malfoy to be expelled. Neville would often come to sit with us when he wasn’t out working with Sprout, and contributed very elaborate plans to our plotting. Ron was usually found with his brothers, but as it was only us left in the Gryffindor Common Room over the holidays, we all intermingled to a certain degree.

I found that I rather liked the Weasley twins, though Ron and their older brother Percy drove me mad. Fred and George had a similar disregard for the rules as I did, and as such we got along, joking and laughing and plotting ways to desecrate Percy’s prefect badge.

When I wasn’t pulling pranks with them, Harry and I would try and learn Wizard’s Chess with the help of Ron, who had seen me reading the book Hermione lent me while she was away. He would often get frustrated with our slow progress but still he praised us as we managed to get better over time.

On Christmas morning I awoke to a modest pile of presents on my bed. Grinning in excitement, I opened to find a new, leather-bound diary from my parents along with a very nice quill; seeds from my favorite forest plants from my sister which I fully intended to plant in the Greenhouses; a book on magical dueling from Harry that made me chuckle as I set it aside; a box of Cauldron Cakes from Hermione; a box of fudge from Professor Snape that was actually quite tasty; an ornate, if roughly carved, bow and arrow set from Hagrid that must have taken a lot of effort for him to carve; and last (but not least) a small plant that was very similar to Ivy, but was actually a magical plant that would grow as tall as the sky if I planted it in suitable soil, from Neville.

I came down the stairs wearing a sweater, my coat, jeans and boots and I had my quiver hung on my back and my bow in my other hand. Harry came downstairs in his pajamas, looked at me and just shook his head.

“Who in the blazes gave you that and what _were_ they thinking?” Harry laughed.

“Hagrid,” I laughed.

“Merlin, he gave me a flute. Though, to be fair, it is a beautifully sounding one and I’m going to try to learn to play it, in all honesty,” Harry shook his head, “Thank you, by the way, for the book on advanced Quidditch maneuvers.”

“Well, you finished Quidditch Through the Ages so fast I figured a similar novel would be good,” I beamed, “Thanks for the dueling book, I’m excited to read it,” I laughed.

“Want to see the other thing I got?” he asked eagerly, and I knew he had been waiting to unveil this since the moment he opened it. I nodded in excitement and he pulled out a large, shining, silvery piece of cloth. It looked like materialized water.

“What _is_ it?” I gasped.

“Ron reckons it’s an Invisibility Cloak,” Harry explained, “Look!” He wrapped the cloak around himself like you would one of the school ones, and just like that his body was gone – only his head remained floating in midair. I looked at him in complete shock and he readjusted the cloak, throwing it over himself like we would with blankets to play tent inside of the house when it rained. He completely disappeared. Amazed, I walked forward and reached out my hand to where he had been just moments before, and pressed it against his shoulder. He was definitely still _there_.

“You’re no longer reflecting light,” I whispered.

He pulled off the cloak, “Quoting the physics book again?”

“Look, mum bought me all those school textbooks on biology, chemistry, physics and geology. Blame her,” I was so amazed that my voice came out like a whisper.

“And the books on organic chemistry, on paleontology, and astronomy, can’t forget,” Harry chuckled, “But yeah, it would appear so.”

“That is… bloody freaking brilliant,” I finally gasped out, “You win. All the Christmas Present Awards. All of them.”

Harry chuckled and took a melodramatic bow as I clapped.

“But who sent it? Not mum and dad, surely,” I shook my head.

“They left a note,” Harry held it out to me, “But didn’t say who they were.”

I looked down at the note and read, _Your father left this in my possession before he died. It is time it was returned to you. Use it well. A Very Merry Christmas to you._ The handwriting was loopy and elegant.

“Your dad?” I whispered in amazement. Harry nodded.

“Wow that’s… Wow,” I shook my head.

“What?” Harry asked, confused by my amazement.

“Well come on Harry. When we were kids all you ever wanted to know was what your parents were like, who they were. All you ever wanted was to have your own parents around. You loved my family, still do, but you wanted your own back. It is all you’ve ever wanted,” I looked at him sadly, “You can’t hide it from me.”

Harry looked at the ground and shuffled his feat a little, “Yeah, s’ppose that’s true.”

“And now you have something from your dad,” I looked at the cloak, “That’s gotta mean something.”

“Course it does,” Harry looked up at me, “I wish your mum would tell me more about my parents, but as it is, this is a connection to Dad that I didn’t have before.”

We looked at each other across the room for a while.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

“Don’t be,” Harry shook his head, “It’s not like _you_ have any choice in the matter. And besides, I love living with you guys. You _are_ a sister to me, and so’s Elena; your parents have been really good to me and sometimes I think of them as my parents. But I don’t all the time because they aren’t, I had parents and they died for me, in some way. I don’t understand why I haven’t been told much about them, but I’m sure your mum has a good reason for it. Maybe she just doesn’t know everything about my parents, maybe Professor Dumbledore or someone high up on the ladder asked her to let them explain everything, maybe she just wants to shelter me from terrible things, maybe she just hasn’t found the right moment. I love Aunt Melinda and she isn’t keeping things from me to hurt me, I know that much.”

I smiled, “I’m glad you understand that. I wouldn’t have.”

“That’s why we’re a packaged deal. You’re the recklessness and I’m the moral backbone,” Harry stuck out his tongue.

“It’s actually kind of sad how true that is,” I shook my head, “Go get dressed; I think we need to try out this bow.”

“Correction- I think you really want to try out the bow and I should come along to make sure you don’t hurt yourself. But yes, I will go and get dressed,” Harry laughed and ran back to the boy’s dormitory as I waited downstairs.

He came back down wearing a large sweater with the letter H on the front, his own jacket, khaki pants and boots.

“Where’d you get the sweater?” I laughed.

“Ron’s mum sent it to me, apparently she likes me from Ron’s letters or something. Anyways, she sent me a sweater and some sweets,” Harry shrugged. I nodded and we headed towards the portrait hole when I heard Neville call out behind us, “Can I come, too?”

We turned around to see Neville, dressed in his cloak, a sweater of his own and jeans and boots.

“Course you can! Come on,” I waved him over to us and he scampered forward, walking with us out to the snow.

“Thanks for the plant, Neville, I hope to plant it in the Greenhouses when it gets too big for the pot,” I laughed.

“Oh good, you recognized what it was. And Professor Sprout might not like that; you might want to plant it at home. You said you lived in a forest,” Neville commented.

“There’s that… might be smarter, you’re right,” I nodded as we headed out to the door.

“I loved the Flitterbloom you sent me, by the way,” Neville continued as we walked over to the edge of the forest.

“Great, I’m glad you liked it,” I beamed.

“Alright, we need a target for Maggie… or else she’ll go shooting everywhere and then someone’s going to get hurt,” Harry interjected, looking a little ruffled for being completely cut out of the conversation, “Can anyone here think of anything?”

“Here,” I heard a voice call out. We turned to see Hagrid walking over with a very large target, which he hung on a tree.

“I knew yeh’d be keen on this, Maggie,” Hagrid beamed, “So I made this las’ night. I plan on keepin’ it, ter be honest, so don’t go wanderin’ off with it.”

“Alright, Hagrid!” I laughed. Hagrid got out of the way and I clumsily put an arrow into the bow, stretching back the string as far as I could and squinting my eyes as I peered at the target. Harry and Neville watched avidly as I finally let the arrow go, watching as it flew and hit the tree branch on which the target was hanging.

“So much for that,” Harry laughed.

“Shut it, I’m going to practice until I get it,” I stuck my tongue out at him.

“This could take a while,” Harry sighed dramatically, sitting on the snowy ground.

“I don’t see why you need to do this,” Harry continued, laughing as I notched a second arrow and peered at the target.

“You never know, Harry. One day we might be camping or something, and we’ll need food. I read in a transfiguration book that’s the one thing we can’t make out of thin air- food, that is. And it might be useful if I know how to use this,” I shook my head as I let the arrow fly and it hit the wood of the trunk just above the target.

“First off, why would we go camping? We _live in the woods._ And if we’re going camping for reasons other than recreational, please explain why we would ever do that. Second off, if you’re our only hope for food, I might as well have someone around to write my will,” Harry responded skeptically.

“You never know what might happen,” I responded, lowering my bow, “Maybe we’ll be on a scavenger hunt.”

“In the woods? I’d sooner say you’re on the run from the law and you dragged me with you,” Harry laughed.

Neville laughed as well and bent down to the snow, just to reemerge holding a snowball. He threw the ball at my head just as I let another arrow loose at the target, which managed to hit the very outer edge (and I mean, _the edge_ ) of the target.

“You little –!” I gasped. Neville practically giggled and I bent down to get my own snowball and I threw it at Neville in retaliation. Suddenly, we both looked at each other and came to the same realization. We both bent down to grab snowballs and, in unison, threw them at Harry.

Thus, the bulk of the morning was spent throwing snowballs at each other, though occasionally Neville would need a break or Harry would want one too, and I would turn to keep shooting arrows at the target. By the end of the day, I managed to get a few of my arrows near the bull’s eye.

Christmas Dinner fulfilled our ravenous appetites – there was so much food I just couldn’t fathom it all and had to get a little bit of everything. The wizard crackers were fantastic, and as I pulled one with Harry a small monitor lizard came crawling out and onto my arm as I grabbed a black fedora with white stripes and put it on my head.

“Alright, I’m keepin’ him,” I laughed, gently massaging the back of the lizard’s head. I turned to the head table and shouted, “Professor Dumbledore, can I keep him?”

Everyone in the hall save the Slytherins and Percy laughed – I could even see Professor Snape was having a very, very hard time holding back a chuckle.

“I don’t see why not, though you’ll need a good cage for him, Miss Johnson!” Professor Dumbledore replied, his eyes twinkling with mirth. I allowed the lizard to sit on my shoulder as I opened another cracker with Harry, where he received a real admiral’s hat and several white mice.

“That hat is extremely classy, my sister,” Harry grinned.

“Am I ever anything but classy, my brother? Now, put on your admiral’s hat and salute Sargent Sticky Fingers of the Twelfth Lizard Brigade,” I nodded at my scaly companion.

“Sticky Fingers? Is that really what you’re namin’ him?” Harry laughed.

“No, his name’s… his name’s…” I frowned for a moment down at the reptile, “He is Albus Lizard, named after Professor Dumbledore.”

“Really? Why after Dumbledore?” Neville asked curiously.

“See the marks around his eyes? They look like Dumbledore’s spectacles. And he has this little mark down the underside of his jaw like Dumbledore’s beard. And Dumbledore’s why I can keep him, so Albus he is,” I beamed, petting the lizard again as he closed his eyes.

“I’m sure Professor Dumbledore’s honored,” Harry chortled.

“Don’t laugh, you’ve already lost your mice haven’t you?” I teased.

I opened two more crackers with Neville that evening, in which he received a safari hat and a large wooden walking stick and I received a black top hat (I kept the fedora on, however) and a miniature, walking and roaring model dragon. Harry received his own Wizard’s Chess set, luminous balloons, and a Grow-Your-Own-Warts kit. We were all laughing hysterically and up at the teacher’s table Hagrid got progressively drunker until he kissed Professor McGonagall on the cheek, causing her to giggle uncontrollably.

After Christmas Dinner, we all went back out onto the grounds for a proper snowball fight with the Weasleys, eagerly chasing each other around and falling over ourselves in the snow. Albus was in his newly fashioned cage (courtesy of Professor McGonagall) and sleeping soundly in his place by the Gryffindor fire.

Harry, Neville and I formed one team while Fred, George and Ron formed another. Percy chose to sit it out, probably in the common room reading some sort of book on famous and powerful wizards. We three crouched behind a large snowy mound and looked at each other determinedly.

“Alright men,” I ordered softly under my breath, “This is the big one. We’re going over the top.”

“What are you talking about?” Neville asked in amusement.

“World War One reference,” I waved it off, “Muggle thing. Harry gets it.” He nodded in agreement.

“Your parents are wizards…” Neville laughed.

“Mum’s a muggle born, she taught us _more_ about muggles than wizards growing up, and if she had been allowed to speak freely it would have been equal. That’s not the point, you’re wasting time Neville,” I laughed.

“Sorry,” Neville beamed.

“Anywho, this is it. The big one. The one that will determine our fates as we know them. We must work together, like a well-oiled machine. Harry, you’ll take left flank. Neville, you’ll take right. I’ll take point. We move as a triangle, in unison, together. We must charge and give them everything they got! They have sibling rivalry between them. The twins might be able to work together but Ron will argue with them enough that we have a chance. We must take that chance. We can do this, men! Are you ready?” I hissed like a drill sergeant.

“Sir yes sir!” Harry laughed. I punched him in the arm and Neville giggled.

“Alright, on three. One, two, three!” I shouted. We got up from behind the mound and moved forward, throwing a bombardment of snowballs at the Weasleys. It was a mighty war, with many casualties on both sides, Neville especially. Harry and I had to return to retrieve our fallen comrade from the snow, where he laid making angels as though it would bring about his salvation from the bombardment. But Percy coming out to call us all to supper, and the opportunity to steal his Prefect badge ultimately distracted the twins. Without the twins, picking off Ron was like shooting fish in a barrel, and we claimed victory by lifting our fallen comrade over our heads and carrying him up to the castle in celebration.

I went upstairs to go to bed, but I couldn’t help the nagging feeling that Harry was going to utilize his cloak. So I crept downstairs and sat sleepily at the base of the boy’s staircase.

“Maggie,” I heard Harry sigh. I looked up to see him pull the cloak off of his head, “What’re you doin’?”

“Waiting to see if you’d do this,” I shrugged tiredly, “We promised no more night wandering.”

“That was before I got this thing – you know, the thing that stops Filch from seeing me?” Harry hissed.

“What could you possibly have to do right now?” I laughed sleepily.

“Going to the Restricted Section to try to find out about Flamel,” Harry retorted.

I stood up in shock and amazement, “Can I fit with you under there? We can cover more ground together.”

“That’s my sister,” Harry beamed and he threw the cloak over him and me. It indeed covered us both easily, and we walked the stairs to the library and to the Restricted Section in the back. We had unlimited time to finally figure out who this bloke was, and it thrilled us both to no end.

Harry carried a lamp in front of him, still covering his arm and hand with the cloak so it looked like the lamp was floating in midair. I watched the sight filled with the creeps, gripping Harry’s arm tightly. He reached down and held my hand comfortingly, like we had when we had faced the wolves in the woods, or got lost in the cave, or climbed the big fir tree and looked down at the ground below feeling like we were going to fall.

The books that we looked at were surprisingly uninformative. They were often in different languages, one book was covered in blood, and the entire place put my hairs on end. We walked down to a different shelf and Harry took a large black and silver book. It was huge and I helped him balance it carefully as we opened it.

 _AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!_ The book screamed louder than I had ever heard anything scream before. It sent my teeth on edge and every end of my nerves into frenzy as I stumbled backward from it. Harry hurriedly closed it and knocked over the lamp. I could hear footsteps as someone approached and I threw the cloak more properly over us.

We sprinted past Filch and his outstretched arm down a corridor to pant near a suit of armor. Harry looked at me in amazement and I just shook my head sadly when we heard voices.

“You asked me to come directly to you, Professor, if anyone was wandering around at night, and somebody’s been in the library – Restricted Section.”

Filch was speaking to someone. I felt my blood turn cold and Harry looked very pale in the dim lighting. Filch’s voice got nearer sounding as he talked and of course, Snape was the one who replied, “The Restricted Section? Well, they can’t be far, we’ll catch them.”

Filch and Snape turned the corner and started approaching us. There was no way they wouldn’t bump into us and Harry noticed the door to an empty classroom. I nodded and he managed to squeeze through without moving the door. I followed close enough behind to keep the cloak on, and by some sort of miracle, managed the same feat. We both leaned against the wall and listened as their footsteps died in the distance.

I pulled off the cloak and cautiously closed the door. Harry looked at me in amazement.

“That was much too close,” Harry whispered, deadly silent.

“Agreed. We gotta be more careful,” I murmured. I turned to finally notice a very, very large mirror as high as the ceiling, with an ornate gold frame. On the top of the mirror was the writing _Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi_.

“Well, I suddenly have an urge to learn every language ever written,” I muttered under my breath. Harry and I both approached it. Looking in, I just saw the pair of us.

“Well then, this is the most superfluous mirror I’ve ever seen,” I shook my head, stepping back. The moment I did, however, Harry gasped in shock and jumped back, his hand on his heart.

“What, what?!” I demanded, running up to him. Harry looked in complete confusion as I looked in to see the pair of us again.

“Seriously, Harry, what is it?” I asked in concern.

“It’s… my… it’s my parents,” Harry whispered.

“ _What_?” I looked at him like he was crazy.

“Not when it’s us… When it’s the two of us looking in it’s just us in the reflection. But when you leave I… I’m with my mum and dad. You’re there too, but my parents are there, and… Mum looks just like your mum, and Dad looks just like me, and they’re… they’re crying, but they’re smiling at me and… they’re my parents. I know everything about them, and they’re alive, and they’re with me,” Harry whispered.

“I wish I could see them,” I frowned sadly.

“Try looking in, just you,” Harry suggested.

I did, moving in front of it as Harry got out of the way, though clearly reluctantly. But I didn’t see Harry’s parents, nor my parents. I was with Harry, and Hermione, and Neville, and my little sister Elena. We were all standing together, and we were laughing, and all of us were safe. I just could tell. There was a little newspaper clipping that said, _YOU-KNOW-WHO KILLED AT LAST_ , and another with Malfoy clearly behind bars for something bad that he’d done. And all of us were happy and safe.

“What do you see?” Harry asked in amazement. I apparently had begun to cry, but I hadn’t noticed; I lifted up my hand to wipe the tears away.

“We’re all safe, Harry. Malfoy’s locked up and Voldemort’s been defeated. Neville’s happy and sure of himself, Hermione’s happy, you’re happy and safe, and Elena’s safe and happy too. We’re all… OK. We’re older, too. I’d say we’ve just left school and Elena’s in the middle of it, but we’ve survived school with all our limbs,” I sighed softly.

Harry looked at me in concern, “What makes you think there’s a chance we wouldn’t?”

“Harry, mum said it herself. Voldemort’s going to come back some day. What makes you think he’s going to wait for us to finish school? If anything, he’s hurrying towards it now, trying to come back to power when you’re really _not_ prepared to defeat him,” I sighed sadly.

“You’re really worried about me getting hurt?” Harry whispered.

I turned to him and hugged him tightly, “Of course I am, Harry.”

He rubbed my back, soothing me softly for something he didn’t even know he had to sooth me about. I then turned, avoiding looking at the mirror, and sat to the side while Harry sat there and watched his parents for a while. While for him it was mesmerizing and he simply couldn’t tear his eyes away, I couldn’t bear to look at what I saw in the mirror, not wanting to give myself hope or face my deepest, darkest fear.

Eventually Harry got up and pulled me up with him, muttering something about bed. We walked back to the Common Room easily, and I slept wrought with nightmares that a giant snake had eaten my brother, poisoned Hermione, squeezed the life out of Neville and then, for good measure, smashed my sister with its tail before turning to me. I woke up, panting and in a sweat, vowing to never go to that blasted mirror again. Like a snake that giant even existed.

Harry couldn’t eat the next day, and he seemed completely obsessed with the mirror. Ron and Neville couldn’t understand what was up with him and neither of us felt up to explaining the events of last night. I couldn’t, especially, as I felt embarrassed for getting so worked up for Neville’s safety. Harry looked completely off and I worried that the mirror was affecting him badly too.

The next day, Harry looked exhausted, and I was willing to bet Albus and my bow and arrows that he had been looking at the mirror again. When I asked to play chess, he declined; when I asked to go exploring, he declined; when I asked to go to the library to look up Flamel, he declined. He completely lost the will to do anything.

“Stop going, Harry,” I begged as we sat at the dinner table, “It’s not… I’m worried you’ll get caught, and you’ve been so focused and obsessed with the mirror, it’s not… not healthy.”

“You sound like Hermione,” Harry muttered.

“Please don’t go,” I begged again, but my pleas fell on deaf ears. I went to bed terrified that my brother would never get out of this trance.

The next day, however, Harry looked a little bit healthier as he sat with me at breakfast.

“What happened?” I asked curiously, fully aware he had been out the night before.

“Dumbledore found me out,” Harry explained, “And he’s moving the mirror to a new place, and he explained what it was about.”

“Oh?” I asked.

“Yeah,” Harry paused, “It apparently shows your greatest wish- your greatest desire, the one thing in the world you want most. For example, what I want most is to know my parents and to have them with me, and that’s what it showed. For you, the one thing you want most is your friends to be safe and happy, and that’s what it showed you. But… Professor Dumbledore explained to me that people have wasted their lives looking in that mirror, because oftentimes, like with me, it shows us something that can’t be had.”

“Harry, I’m so sorry…” I whispered.

“It’s okay, better I get thrown back into reality now rather than driven mad,” Harry smiled weakly, “Now I can focus on Flamel.”

Over the rest of the holidays, however, I knew he hadn’t gotten over it. He had his nightmare morning face every day, that face he got the day after he had a bad nightmare. I was used to it back home, sometimes, but this was a constant and it worried me to no end.

We ended up discovering nothing about Flamel as the holidays came to a close. Hermione returned, horrified that Harry had been out three nights in a row, and disappointed that we had failed to find anything about Flamel. Harry was convinced he’d read the name before, as was Hermione. Still, though, we had no leads.  

School started up again, and we didn’t have very much time to research between classes and homework, and Harry had almost no time at all thanks to Quidditch. Apparently, Wood was obsessing, hoping to win the Quidditch Cup. I was all for it, because when he practiced until late at night, he didn’t have Nightmare Face the next morning.

One night, however, he had nightmare face walking up to Hermione and me before bed. We looked up at him in concern as he sat across from us playing wizard’s chess at the table. I was actually getting quite good at it.

“Snape’s refereeing the Quidditch match against Hufflepuff,” Harry sighed sadly.

“ _What?!”_ Hermione shouted in horror, “Don’t play! Don’t even think about it! Fake an illness, pretend to break your leg, come to think of it; I’ll help you actually break your leg…”

I didn’t say anything. Neither of them had an inkling of my conviction of Snape’s innocence; after all, they probably figured I hated him more than either of them with all the “screaming matches” (I claimed them to be, but they were actually tea times) I had in Snape’s office. My silence was probably perceived as silent fury, where really it was my silent disbelief.

“I can’t. There isn’t a reserve Seeker, if I back out, Gryffindor can’t play.”

I looked up from the board at that moment, trying to ignore my confusion about Snape, to see Neville topple inside. I immediately ran to him and saw he had his legs locked together with the aptly named Leg-Locker Curse. He must have had to bunny hop all the way to the Common Room. Everyone but me started laughing, except Hermione, who performed the counter curse instantly and Neville got to his feet, leaning on my shoulder.

“What happened,” I demanded angrily.

“Malfoy. He wanted to practice this on someone and I happened to be nearby,” Neville answered mournfully.

“Go to McGonagall!” Hermione insisted as I silently plotted my revenge. It would involve a boil-inducing potion, one of my precious arrows (I’d find a way to get it back,) some muggle tar, and perhaps a jar of feathers… Maybe Albus, but I didn’t want my precious lizard to touch Malfoy’s scummy skin… Maybe I’d threaten him with Albus… Pretend he was poisonous or something… Malfoy was a raised-up wizard, he probably didn’t know Gila Monsters and Bearded Lizards were the only poisonous lizards… well, I was counting on it anyway.

“I don’t want more trouble,” Neville insisted again, his determined face on.

“Neville, you’ve got to stand up to him yourself,” Harry insisted, “It does no good for me and Maggie to stand up to him, because he just knows he can still get to you. Maggie, stop plotting some elaborate revenge plan in your head, don’t think I don’t know that expression you have. But Malfoy’s used to walking all over you, you’ve got to stop lying down for him to do it.”

“There’s no need to tell me I’m not brave enough for Gryffindor,” Neville mumbled.

“Neville,” I snapped, “Remember our conversation before Harry’s first match? I meant every word. You are _exceptionally brave_.”

“You’re worth twelve of Malfoy,” Harry agreed, “The Sorting Hat chose you for Gryffindor, didn’t it?” he asked as he gave a chocolate frog to Neville, “And where’s Malfoy? In stinking Slytherin.”

Neville unwrapped the frog and smiled weakly.

“Thank you, Harry… I’m going to go to bed. D’you want the card?” Neville handed the Wizard Card to Harry. He looked down at it and groaned, “Dumbledore, really? From the ones Aunt Melinda and Uncle Nathaniel gave me I have about seven, and…”

Harry’s eyes widened to the size of saucers as he looked at the back of the card, “ _I’ve found him! I’ve found Flamel!_ I _knew_ I recognized the name, look at this! ‘Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon’s blood, and his work on alchemy with his partner, _Nicolas Flamel’!”_

Hermione immediately ran up to the girl’s dormitories without another word and came back almost instantaneously with a ginormous book.

“I never thought to look in here!” she gasped, “I got this out of the library weeks ago for a bit of light reading.”

“Hermione, you’re amazing, and I love reading as much as the next person… more than the next one, honestly, but… _light? Really?”_ I demanded. Hermione shook her head and continued to flick through the book until she found what she was looking for.

“I knew it! Look! Nicolas Flamel is the _only known maker of the Philosopher’s Stone!_ ”

“Erm…” Harry and I both grimaced.

“Oh honestly you two, just read this,” Hermione forced the book under our noses. We both read about how the Philosopher’s Stone was a legendary substance with the power to transform any metal into pure gold and to produce the Elixir of Ife, which made the drinker immortal. The only known maker was Mr. Nicolas Flamel, who celebrated his six hundred and sixty fifth birthday and lived with his wife, who was six hundred and fifty eight.

“The dog must be guarding Flamel’s Philosopher’s Stone! I bet he asked Dumbledore to keep it safe for him, because they’re friends and he knew someone was after it, that’s why it was moved from Gringotts!”

“Well, _anyone_ would be after it, there’s no question and no surprise that Snape is going for it,” Harry gasped.

“And no wonder,” I continued, quick to change the subject, “We couldn’t find it in all those Modern Wizarding books. Someone who’s six hundred and sixty five isn’t very modern, is he?”

Harry sat back from us and looked at us as well all basked in our triumph, “I’m going to play in the match. I won’t give the Slytherins the satisfaction in making fun of me and I won’t give Snape that either. It’ll wipe the smiles off their faces if we win.”

“I just don’t want to be wiping you off the field, brother,” I sighed, “Just don’t want to be wiping you off of the field.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back guys! I'm on summer vacation and am planning to edit the rest of this story and then continue to write it! So please let me know what you think! Thank you to everyone who's commented and left kudos so far.


	8. Chapter Seven: March - Final Exams, 1992, Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Oh, just take a fall
> 
> You're one of us
> 
> The spotlight is on, oh
> 
> The spotlight is on"
> 
> ~ Mutemath, "Spotlight"

Chapter Seven: March – Final Exams, 1992, Hogwarts

In the month leading up to Harry’s game, Hermione had the brilliant idea to try and learn how to use the leg-locker curse, just in case Snape tried to do something to hurt Harry. Since I was pretending to hate Snape same as the rest of them, I went along with this, learning the curse with Hermione’s aid.

“ _Locomotor Mortis, Locomotor Mortis_ ,” Hermione muttered under her breath, her wand ready at her side as we walked up into the Quidditch stands.

I looked up into the teacher’s stands to see if Quirrell was also present. He was, and so was Professor Dumbledore, of all the people in the world.

I turned to Hermione and poked her in the arm to bring her attention to this fact. She looked at the Headmaster in shock, almost letting her wand drop to the floor.

“Oh, thank _God_ ,” Hermione whispered. I beamed. There was no way Snape _or_ Quirrell could try anything with _Dumbledore_ around! I turned to Hermione with my hand raised in the air.

“I request the highest of fives,” I declared proudly. Hermione laughed and high fived me. Neville looked at us, squinting in confusion.

“What _are_ you two on about?” Neville shook his head in amazement.

“Oh don’t worry about it, Neville,” I beamed, “Though I wouldn’t count on Harry not being able to stay on his broom this time.”

“Bit worried about Snape though, still,” Hermione frowned, “He looks furious.”

I could see his glare from here. I frowned, thinking back on the previous day, where we had had another teatime chat (I had criticized him for bullying Neville over his rather poor potions skills,) and Snape had seemed completely fine. There wasn’t even a single mention of Harry in that conversation. So what had made him so angry? Was it really that Slytherin could be upset in this upcoming match? The two teams rose into the air and Alicia Spinnet caught the Quaffle, indicating the beginning of the match. I watched Harry anxiously, and since I was standing in the front of the stands I had the nice, sturdy wooden half-wall to hold onto, rather than a flimsy banner.

I suddenly felt a sharp jab in the back of my head. I turned around to see Malfoy, who had been leaving me alone for the most part since I had narrowly escaped trouble back in the fall.

“Oh, sorry, Johnson. Didn’t see you there,” Malfoy was grinning at his cronies, “Wonder how long Potter’s going to stay on his broom this time? Anyone want a bet? What about you, Johnson?”

Hufflepuff had been awarded a penalty and I was determinedly ignoring Malfoy before I decided to punch him in the face again.

“You know how I think they choose people for the Gryffindor team?” Malfoy continued loudly as Hufflepuff was awarded another penalty, “It’s people they feel sorry for. See, there’s Potter, who’s got no parents, then there’s the Weasleys, who’ve got no money – you should be on the team, Longbottom, you’ve got no brains.”

Neville and I turned around in our seats to look at Malfoy. I had my fists clenched into balls at my sides.

“Ah, right, and they should let you on too, Johnson, I mean just look at your color,” Malfoy laughed.

“Watch. What. You. Say,” I hissed angrily.

“I mean half that team is… foreign,” Malfoy rolled his eyes as his cronies chuckled dumbly behind him, “And no wonder.”

“You shut up, Malfoy,” Neville snapped, though his voice was wavering slightly.

“Honestly Longbottom, how’d you get into Gryffindor, you’re the biggest coward –“ but I cut Malfoy off.

“Who’s the one picking on a kid he knows he can beat?” I snapped, “He’s ten times the wizard you are. He’s brave in ways you could never understand, and intelligent in ways that you don’t perceive. You’re a _dumbass._ ”

Malfoy glared at me, “Watch what you say, Johnson.”

“She’s right,” Neville interjected, his voice still wavering but surprisingly strong, “I’m worth twelve of you, Malfoy.”

“Longbottom, if brains were friends you’d have fewer friends than Johnson, and that’s saying something,” Malfoy roared with laughter.

 “Malfoy, I’d be very careful to say anything more,” I hissed, “Or we’ll relive good old times at Flying Lessons.”

“Maggie!” Hermione shouted, “Harry -!”

“What?” I spun around and looked to watch Harry go into a spectacular dive, causing the crowd to gasp and hold their breath, standing on their feet.

“Aww, Johsnon, I’m so sorry, Potter’s offing himself because he can’t bear to live with you any longer,” Malfoy commented mournfully.

I couldn’t hold in my anger anymore. I turned around and tackled Malfoy to the ground, pinning his arms to the floor with my knees. I raised my arm and punched him in the face violently, causing blood to splatter all over his newer looking robes. Neville followed me immediately and was overtaken by Crabbe and Goyle, but I had no concern with that. Malfoy had managed to wrangle himself from underneath me and raised his own fist to my face, but I ducked out of the way and timed a well-placed kick to his groin. He squeaked and fell underneath the seats as I turned to help Neville, who was getting pummeled by Crabbe and Goyle. I kicked Crabbe in the shin and managed to punch Goyle in the stomach before Crabbe grabbed me and punched me in the face in retaliation. I felt my nose start to bleed and Neville somehow came to my defense, kicking Crabbe hard in his knee and whirling around to punch Goyle in the mouth.

I was so proud.

Suddenly the stands around me erupted into cheers. I heard Hermione call out, “Maggie! Maggie! Where are you? The game’s over! Harry’s won! We’ve won! Gryffindor is in the lead!” I stood up, wiping the blood off my face to see Hermione jumping up and down in excitement. Her face didn’t even fall at my appearance. Neville rose too, brushing himself off. Though he had a few new bruises, I didn’t see any blood on him as the Slytherins slunk away.

“We have to go to Harry, come on!” Hermione urged, grabbing my arm and ignoring my extreme nosebleed. We ran down to Harry where bunches of Gryffindors were lifting him onto their shoulders. I didn’t see Snape anywhere, though I did see Dumbledore leaving the field. We carried him to the Quidditch shed and I turned to Hermione happily.

“Know anyway to fix this little problem?” I asked cheerfully. Hermione laughed and waved her wand, mumbling, “Episkey!” Suddenly my nose cracked into place and I groaned, holding onto it as it started to bleed even more.

“Sorry about that, I wanted to fix the actual nose first. Scourgify!” Hermione waved her wand again. I felt the blood clean up from my face and looked down to see it was gone from my robes, but I still needed to stem the continual flow of blood until it stopped, so I grabbed a towel from the Quiddtich shed and held it up to my nose.

“Back to the Common Room? I don’t know where Harry went off to but we should meet him there,” Hermione continued. I nodded and we headed up there together.

Neville was in the Common Room waiting for us, beaming through his black eye and many other bruises. I hugged him, as did Hermione, and we all laughed.

“Thanks for fighting Crabbe and Goyle with me, I probably would be passed out now if it weren’t for you,” Neville managed to say through the bruise on his cheek.

“No trouble at all my friend,” I grinned, “I’m glad Malfoy’s baby makers are a little damaged after today’s events.”

Neville burst into endless giggles at my remark and Hermione rolled her eyes.

“What? He never came back up and I kicked him very hard,” I winked at her, “Let’s hope he’s the last of the Malfoys.”

Neville couldn’t stop giggling and even Hermione cracked a smile at that.

Fred and George Weasley then walked into the Common Room, laden down with cakes and other food. I looked at them in amazement.

“How’d you manage that?” I asked, shocked. Fred beamed.

“Ah, Maggie, don’t you know how to sneak into the kitchens yet?” Fred shook his head in amusement.

“We have yet to teach our little prodigy that, Freddie,” George laughed.

“I’m your prodigy?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. Fred and George laughed in unison.

“Forgot to tell her, oops,” Fred chortled.

“We’re going to hand down the role of official prankster to you once we leave. You’ll only have it for about two years but hey, there’s no one better for the job than you, Miss Johnson,” George did a fake bow and Fred followed suit. I laughed in amazement.

“I assume I’ll be required to train for this position?” I asked as they put down the food in the middle of the Common Room, where people ran up to gorge on it.

“Naturally, but we’ll be helping you every step of the way,” George affirmed.

“Telling you the secrets of the castle, the passageways, the portrait holes, the secret rooms. And, of course, how best to pull pranks,” Fred continued.

“We knew the moment we actually had a conversation with you that you weren’t prefect material,” George continued, “I mean, punching Malfoy in the face?”

“Classic,” Fred nodded, “Your disregard for rules and regulations is to be admired!”

“And we do need someone to continue the legacy when we leave,” George paused, “And then it will fall to you to find your own replacement.”

“I will be happy to help in any way I can, boys,” I laughed. Fred and George nodded in their approval.

“We knew you’d be on board. Next time we plan on utilizing our intimate knowledge of the castle, we’ll come to you,” Fred and George bowed and left to go talk with Lee Jordan. I laughed in amazement and Hermione just shook her head next to me, simply silently indicating her disapproval rather than shoving it in my face. It was this little thing we were working on, more commonly known as subtlety. Neville was giggling again and turned to eat one of the cakes from the table.

“Where is Harry?” Hermione commented as we both turned to follow Neville’s wonderful example.

“I really have no idea, I haven’t seen him since he went to go change,” I frowned, “Should we be worried?”

“Nah,” Hermione shrugged, “Maybe he got distracted by something.”

At that moment the portrait hole opened and Harry came through. He found Hermione, Neville and me and dragged us back with him through the corridors to an empty classroom, which he checked for Peeves prior to entry.

“What is it?” Hermione asked in confusion.

“Seriously, Harry, where’ve you been?” I continued.

“You’ve missed quite a lot and…” Neville started rambleing.  

“Never mind that now,” Harry shook his head, “I was at the changing rooms and I saw Snape going out into the Forbidden Forest, so I followed him on my broom. He was threatening Professor Quirrell, talking about the Philosopher’s Stone, and trying to find out about his ‘hocus-pocus’, and then he left and Quirrell looked terrified. So we were right, it _is_ the Philosopher’s Stone, and Snape’s trying to force Quirrell to help him get it. He asked if he knew how to get past Fluffy, and I reckon there are other things guarding the stone apart from Fluffy, loads of enchantments, and Quirrell will have done some anti-Dark Arts spell that Snape needs to break through…”

“So you mean the Stone’s only safe as long as Quirrell stands up to Snape?” Hermione whispered.

Harry nodded mournfully and I frowned. The plot of Snape versus Quirrell had thickened and I still was clueless. I couldn’t explain why I thought Snape was innocent beyond his relation to my mother and kind treatment of me, but I knew that was no excuse. Was I just biased? Was it really Snape doing all these things and I had been blinded? Was that why Snape was buttering me up, so I wouldn’t see what he really was up to?

Unfortunately, I didn’t have much time to worry over it. The stone seemed to be relatively safe, as Fluffy was still growling from inside the third-floor corridor. And the end of the year exams were drawing near, and Hermione was obsessed with study schedules and color-coded notes and organizing our time. I was worried, don’t get me wrong, but Hermione’s constant obsession was driving me mental.

The teachers were of a similar vein, and I was constantly swamped with homework. Out of all my subjects, the only ones that came easily were Transfiguration, Astrology and Herbology. All the rest- Defense, Charms, Potions, History of Magic- were driving me even more mental as I tried to imprint the information into my brain.

We had formed giant clusters in the library, with me, Harry, Hermione, Neville, Dean Thomas, and Siobhan O’Rourke teaming up to study. Eventually Ron and Seamus and Lavender and Parvati joined up with us, making us a right little club of first year Gryffindors all cramming together.

One day, I looked up to see Hagrid walking out, hiding something behind his back. Harry, Neville and Hermione looked up at him in equal confusion.

“What are you doing in the library?” I asked in amazement.

“Jus’ lookin’,” he replied rather suspiciously, “An’ what’re you lot up ter? Yer not still lookin’ fer Nicolas Flamel, are yeh?”

“Oh we figured that out weeks ago, _and_ we know what the dog’s guarding, it’s a Philosopher’s St-“

“Shhh!” Hagrid hissed, “Don’ go shoutin’ about it, what’s the matter with yeh?”

“There are a few things we wanted to ask you, as a matter of fact, about what’s guarding the Stone apart from Fluffy –“ Harry continued.

“SHHH!” Haggrid insisted, “Listen – come an’ see me later. I’m not promisin’ I’ll tell yeh anythin’, mind, but don’ go rabbitin’ about it in here, students aren’ s’pposed ter know. They’ll think I’ve told yeh –“

“See you later, then,” Harry dismissed cheerfully.

“What was he hiding?” Hermione asked immediately after he left.

I realized, based on my own library wanderings, what it was. It was the dragon section.

“Hagrid was looking up stuff about dragons,” I whispered.

“Really? Whatever for?” Neville gasped.

“He’s always wanted one, told me so at my birthday party,” Harry commented.

“But it’s against the law,” Hermione whispered, “I read about it, it was outlawed in 1709 – you can’t tame dragons, it’s dangerous.”

“But there aren’t wild dragons in _Britain_?” Harry gasped.

“Of course there are, Common Welsh Green and Hebridean Blacks,” I explained, “I read about them when we first got here.”

“What on earth is Hagrid up to, then?” Neville shook his head.

“Whatever it is, he should talk to Maggie about it,” Harry laughed, “She’s been obsessed with dragons since we were little.”

“I can’t even deny it,” I shook my head sadly, “I’ve always wanted one.”

“Well, you’re at least sane enough to realize you can’t have one. Hagrid, on the other hand…” Hermione paused sadly. Harry shook his head and I smiled a little, not letting on that I still hadn’t given up the dream.

Unfortunately, I was bogged down in a charms essay that I found difficult to work through, and Harry and Hermione headed down to Hagrid’s hut alone. Neville tried to help me with the essay, but he was only slightly less confused about it than I was, and I found myself wishing that Hermione wasn’t off on an adventure while I was stuck trying to figure this out.

Neville finally gave up on it and went upstairs to go to bed, telling me to tell him what happened with Hagrid in the morning, me waving him off while filled with melancholy. I looked up to see Fred and George approach me.

“Ah, sorry about your little problem of homework, good Johnson,” Fred shook his head sadly.

“And we were going to go off on an adventure, too,” George sighed, “A real pity.”

I groaned, “I’ve already turned down an adventure with Hermione and Harry. Could you _please_ help me before you go, so I can come too?”

“I dunno. Georgie, it would be considered academic dishonesty for us to help her out with her homework and not let her figure it out on her lonesome,” Fred shook his head.

“I know, and we set such store by the rules, good Fred,” George responded.

“Oh come on, that’s bull and you know it. Can you just help me with this spell?” I begged.

Fred and George seemed to mull it over for another moment before grinning and sitting down with me, explaining all about the severing charm and explaining how to perform it. It took an hour, but I finally got it and finished the essay.

“Thanks guys,” I sighed, “I’m horrific at charms.”

“We hear you’re a daft hand at transfiguration, though,” George frowned.

“Yeah, I dunno what the difference is for me,” I shook my head, “So what’s this adventure?”

“Well, we were going down to explore this new passageway that leads from, what we hear, the first floor directly to the seventh, and we thought you’d want to come,” Fred beamed. I nodded eagerly and we all left the Common Room, heading down to the first floor. We went through the portrait of the old faerie man after Fred whispered to it in a very delicate voice (I wasn’t sure, but I think that was the only way one could say the password; at any rather to this day it is how I say the password to that portrait) _Glitterflies_ and it opened rather slowly. I grinned at the twins and followed them through the passageway, coming out directly onto the seventh floor.

“Sweet, that _will_ be useful,” Fred nodded, looking at the portrait.

“What else is there to see?” I asked curiously.

“Well, you must swear to secrecy Maggie,” George responded seriously.

“Yes, we know you’re awfully close to that cousin of yours, but you mustn’t tell him anything,” Fred nodded.

“Same for your bushy haired friend and the clumsy one,” George finished.

“In fact, let’s make it a policy that you tell nothing, here on out, that we tell you to anyone, except Lee Jordan because we’ve probably already told him,” Fred amended.

“Not even Ron? Not like I would, but…” I frowned.

“Especially not Ron,” Fred gagged, sticking his tongue out dramatically.

“Why not?” I laughed.

“Ron would just muck it up, tell someone by accident about things or utilize them in full view of a teacher. Not to mention, he is just as much a goody goody as our dear older brother Percy. I never see him doing anything to get into trouble,” George sighed dramatically.

“We failed him, we did. At least Ginny will turn out OK,” Fred shook his head.

“Ginny?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Our younger sister. She’s in the year below Ron and the youngest in the family. She’ll be a good old fashioned troublemaker,” Fred responded proudly.

“Alright, I promise to tell no one,” I nodded, “I swear.”

“Do you solemnly swear?” George asked, a slight twinkle in his eye.

“Yeah… sure,” I laughed.

“Well then, we’ll let you in on a little secret,” Fred beamed, pulling out a sheet of parchment from his back pocket of his jeans. I looked at him incredulously as he pulled out his wand and tapped the sheet of paper, saying, “I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.”

The parchment suddenly started having lines appear, but they were clearly drawings, and well organized ones at that. I watched in amazement as the parchment turned into a full-blown map of Hogwarts.

“What the _hell?_ ” I gasped.

“This is the Marauder’s Map,” George declared.

“Nicked it in our first year from Filch’s office, we were in there for a slight misdemeanor,” Fred continued.

“We haven’t quite memorized it yet, but once we have we’ll pass it on proudly to you, good Maggie,” George finished.

I looked at them in amazement, “And it shows everything?”

“And everyone,” Fred nodded.

“What they’re doing, where they are, who they’re with,” George pointed out, “See? At Hagrid’s hut? Your friends are there with Hagrid,” he pointed to the small hut on the map, where sure enough three little names appeared- _Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Rubeus Hagrid_.

“Well that’s brilliant,” I whispered. George and Fred laughed.

“Course it is. And we’ll live up to our promise, but it’ll take a while to memorize every passageway in the school and leading out of it,” Fred declared.

“When you’re done, you tap it and say Mischief Managed so not just anyone can do it,” George explained as he tapped the parchment and it erased itself.

“Excellent,” I nodded, “Simply excellent.”

“We thought you’d agree,” Fred beamed, “Now, shall we show her the kitchens George?”

“I think we shall, Fred,” George nodded, “Come along!”

We walked down back to the portrait and along the passageway to come out on the first floor again. We continued along and I couldn’t help but ask the inevitable question.

“So, why me? I might have complete disregard for the rules but I’ve never shown real evidence for pranking,” I asked as we headed down to the Entrance Hall.

“Well, to be honest Miss Johnson, we need a successor. An heir to our title of Chief Troublemakers. Generations upon Generations this tradition has lasted, and we can’t just pass it down to anyone,” George explained.

“It was passed down to us our very first year by a few seventh year Ravenclaws by the names of Herald Burbage, Charlie Nutcombe – who was a girl, actually, it was short for Charlotte –“ Fred continued.

“What a woman,” George shook his head mournfully, “What a wom _an_.”

“Charlie – and this time he was a boy – Dingle, and the Hufflepuff sixth year Nymphadora Tonks, who we could never call by anything other than her surname,” Fred finished.

“I’ve met Tonks, her parents are mates with mine,” I interjected.

“Ah, she was brilliant. She worked with us her seventh year and helped us truly gain the title of Troublemakers. She’s training up to be an Auror now, how ironic…” George sighed.

“Auror?” I asked, looking at them in confusion.

“Dark Wizard catcher. Anyways, they trained us up to be the best we could be. Lee is part of our group but he is a secondary troublemaker. Those four, though, they ruled the school. True masterminds. And they couldn’t find their heirs until we came along… there was simply no one suitable enough,” Fred shook his head mournfully.

“They were beginning to think that there was no hope – they were praying that Tonks would find someone her seventh year but they weren’t hopeful. And then we came along, to answer their prayers,” George bowed dramatically.

“We knew we had to find our successor and fine-tune him or her as soon as we could, and not let any potential first years waste away their talents over the years while we relished our title, as our ancestors did,” Fred shook his head.

“You do have a complete disregard for the rules, which is of course the most important prerequisite. And you also are a very sarcastic, humorous young lady who doesn’t care much for what those around her think of her, which is very important. You’re clever – extremely so, we might add – and have the ability to think up magnificent pranks,” George continued.

“You also have a complete disregard for authority, which we have observed in your treatment of our dear brother and our wonderful professors. You’re curious, determined, and perfect for the job, once we train you up a bit,” Fred explained.

“We just need to train you in the art of pranking, which shouldn’t be too hard. It’s a very short step from punching your enemy in the face to embarrassing him in secret in front of his peers. You have the creativity and cleverness to jump the gap, we just need to instill in you the finesse,” George finished.

“Were these Marauders that made up the map troublemakers of old?” I asked curiously as we went down a corridor just to the right of the main staircase.

“Of course, good student. They were the greatest troublemakers of all, though we know not their names. All troublemakers before them were building up for their arrival, setting the stage and providing their foundation. All troublemakers afterwards owe their success, their techniques, and their style ultimately to them,” Fred answered.

“Bit like Shakespeare, actually,” George nodded, “Now, watch this.”

He then went up to a large painting of fruit and tickled the pear on it. The pear giggled and became a door handle, which George pulled open. Fred gestured dramatically for me and I followed the other twin inside of the door, into the kitchens.

I gasped in amazement. There were hundreds of little elves working tirelessly, and five tables that matched the ones upstairs perfectly in size and location. The room was exactly the size of the Great Hall.

“Masters Weasley!” a little elf squeaked, running up to us, “Who is this you bring? And does Masters Weasley need food?”

“Nah, Emmie, we are just showing our friend Miss Johnson the kitchens,” Fred laughed, “But thank you.”

“Shall I get Masters Weasley and Miss Johnson some tea?” Emmie insisted.

“No, no Emmie, it’s fine,” George waved her off, “We don’t need anything and we’re about to leave, truly.”

“Alright, sirs and miss,” Emmie bowed and scampered off. I looked up at Fred and George in shock.

“Oh right – that’s a house elf. Many places with old wizarding families have them as servants. Some of these families treat them horribly, but when they’re treated nicely they really do genuinely love to serve, like here at Hogwarts,” George explained.

“Oh,” I mumbled, but it didn’t really sit right with me as we left the kitchens.

When we got back to the Common Room, Hermione and Harry were sitting and doing their homework.

“How was Hagrid? Did you find out anything?” I asked eagerly, sitting with them as Fred and George left to go talk to Lee Jordan.

“Nothing except all the professors, including Snape, helped to guard the stone. That and only Hagrid and Dumbledore know how to get past Fluffy,” Harry explained.

“Nothing about the dragon?” I frowned.

Hermione and Harry looked at each other for a moment before answering, “Nah, he was just reading up on them.”

I looked at them suspiciously before replying, “Darn. You know how much they fascinate me, Harry.”

“Course I do, and it is a real shame,” Harry nodded. There was a long awkward pause.

“What were you up to with Fred and George, Maggie?” Hermione finally asked.

“Oh nothing, just talking and exploring,” I answered, deciding to be equally evasive. There was another awkward pause as I collected my books and bag from the table, declaring that I wanted to go to bed.

And so, over the next few weeks before finals, Harry and Hermione would often disappear for long hours, nowhere to be found. I would either be working on homework with Neville during those hours or being trained up by Fred and George. They thought, of course, that I had absolutely no clue where they were – but I knew, thanks to the Marauders Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs. They were at Hagrid’s hut.

 _Better this way,_ I thought sadly, _can’t be attached to Harry’s hip forever_. But that didn’t change how sad I was that they weren’t including me in on this.

My fury finally burst when I saw Ron Weasley, of all people, was with them. Fred and George were as clueless as I was.

I didn’t say anything to Harry or Hermione (and especially Ron) when they got back, but when they entered the Common Room I walked past them to join Fred and George without a word, going down to explore some passageways in the dungeons. Not that they got to know that.

And thus began my period of openly ignoring Harry and Hermione. In class the next day I purposely partnered with Neville during Charms, Herbology (though I always had in Herbology,) and Potions. Harry watched these developments unfold with shock and slight hurt, but I did nothing to acknowledge him. I couldn’t believe I had been phased out. And Hermione hated Ron the same as she always had – they argued endless in Herbology and out of the corner of my eye I saw it was driving Harry mad.

I continued my training with Fred and George, now learning some really useful spells to put on unsuspecting Slytherins. They explained their plans to try and form a joke shop and showed me the charms they were working on for it – invisibility charms, charms that made you ill, illusions and other such things. I was very impressed with their work.

For some reason, Ron had to go to the Hospital Wing. And yet, I still didn’t talk to Harry and Hermione and they still didn’t explain why they were always at Hagrid’s Hut. And that Saturday night I went to bed, happy after another day of pranking an annoying Slytherin, not thinking that anything strange could happen whilst I slept.

When I woke up and went down to breakfast, I saw that Gryffindor was down a hundred and fifty points from yesterday. When I saw this, I did a double take like most students. Fred and George walked up behind me and frowned at the sight as well.

“Georgie, I don’t remember loosing so many points last night, do you?” Fred frowned.

“Come to think of it, we lost _no_ points, Freddie,” George agreed.

“What about you, Maggie?” Fred looked down at me. I looked up at him in confusion, shaking my head.

“Nothing to do with me, I went to bed like a good little girl,” I curtseyed and they both laughed.

“Despite your clear sarcasm, I believe that you went to bed,” George paused, “So who did this?”

I looked over to see Neville walking down the stairs, tears flowing down his cheeks. Immediately concerned, I ran up to him on the steps.

“Neville, what’s happened? What’s wrong?” I asked, walking with him down all the way. He shook his head silently. Fred and George looked at one another in confusion.

“Neville, what could have happened?” I begged as we went into the Great Hall. He shook his head again and I let him pass, dumbfounded.

“I have never been more confused in my life,” Fred commented as the boy went and sat down at a table and barely ate a thing.

“I second that statement,” George shook his head.

“It’s been thirded,” I narrowed my eyes, “And I’m willing to bet Malfoy had something to do with it.”

“Sort of, but it was mainly my fault,” a defeated, familiar voice called out behind me. I whirled around to see Harry walk up to me, looking like he had just committed an atrocious crime.

“What is it?” I asked calmly.

“We’re talking again, then?” Harry sighed.

“If you’re going to stop running off to Hagrid’s Hut with _Ron Weasley_ of all people and not include me in on the secret, then yes, we can talk again,” I snapped.

Harry let out an even heavier sigh and I raised my eyebrows.

“Time to go, Freddie?” George asked behind me.

“Most definitely, good George,” Fred answered, and they both went into the Great Hall to leave the two of us alone.

“Let me explain everything, alright?” Harry begged. I nodded and he told me everything – Hagrid’s dragon, how he and Hermione didn’t want to tell me about it because they didn’t want me to encourage Hagrid (and, after some reflection, I realized I most definitely would have and they were right to keep me out of it,) how Malfoy saw it and they had to send it away with Charlie Weasley’s mates, who worked with dragons alongside him (so they had to include Ron so he could talk to Charlie about it, Harry had remembered what his brother had done,) how they snuck out in the middle of the night to transport the dragon and the only reason Ron didn’t was because he was bit by the creature, how Malfoy had planned on getting them in trouble and Neville had overheard, hoping to help out and warn them, and how all four had been caught and twenty points taken from Malfoy, a hundred and fifty from Gryffindor and all four had received detention.

He said the last part in a whisper, probably hoping that the others passing us wouldn’t hear him. And I understood why. My God, everyone was going to hate him.

“I’m really sorry, Maggie, for shutting you out about it. I just… it was bad enough having to deal with Hagrid and my god, you would have acted just the same around the thing. You adore Albus enough! I didn’t… I’m sorry, I should have at least told you what was going on and asked you not to encourage Hagrid or something,” Harry shook his head sadly.

“Ah, it’s alright. I understand,” I sighed, “And you don’t need me mad at you when the entire school’s going to be fairly soon.”

“Everyone except Slytherin,” Harry muttered irritably, “I just feel terrible that I dragged Neville into this mess.”

“I know,” I paused, “I’ll talk to him if you want. How’s Hermione doing?”

“Terrible I expect,” Harry sighed, “This is going to be horrific. How’ve you been?”

“Fine, hanging out with Fred and George for the most part,” I paused, “And before you ask, I’ve been sworn to secrecy, so don’t wonder about what we’ve been doing.”

“Alright,” Harry laughed very weakly as we went inside the Great Hall. I sat across from Neville and I forced a plate of pancakes at him.

“Neville, there really was a dragon, it wasn’t a joke to get Malfoy in trouble, we just didn’t tell Maggie so she wouldn’t try to keep it and then we forgot to tell you,” Harry whispered in a hushed voice. Neville nodded weakly.

“They wouldn’t make up such a blatant li, and if they had they wouldn’t take pleasure in you suffering too,” I murmured, “Alright?”

Neville nodded again and poked at his pancakes.

I wasn’t used to being liked more than my brother. Come to think of it, I wasn’t used to being liked more than Hermione Granger, Neville Longbottom _and_ Harry, but I was immediately upon the castle-wide discovery of their transgression. All Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors hated the three of them for losing the Gryffindor lead and ensuring the cup for Slytherin. Only Ron Weasley and me actually still liked them – Ron however little for Hermione and Neville, but obviously a lot for Harry; simply because he knew what had been going on. I stood by them too, but Fred and George refused to discuss them in my presence for fear of pissing me off with what they said. Quidditch Practice had apparently turned horrific for Harry and Hermione never answered a question in class again that year.

So we spent our time studying an immense amount before exams were to start, focusing on that rather than on my friends’ new notoriety. I didn’t tell my friends about all the people who came up to me, demanding why I still associated with them and claiming that they thought I would have lost maybe at most fifty points at a time, but surely not this much, and I should have reined in my cousin.

 _I_ should have reined _him_ in.

The week before exams began, Harry came up to Hermione, Neville and me and explained in a hushed whisper that Quirrell was beginning to crack under the pressure of Snape- nay, that he _had_ cracked and Snape now knew how to get past Quirrell’s obstacle.

“There’s still Fluffy, though,” Hermione insisted.

“Maybe Snape’s found out without Hagrid,” Harry shook his head, “I bet there’s a book in this huge library about getting past a three-headed dog. But what do we do _now_?”

“Go to Dumbledore,” Hermione answered promptly, “We should have done so ages ago.”

“We have no _proof!_ ” Harry argued, “Quirrell’s too scared to back us up, Snape’s got an alibi and of course they’re going to believe him and not us. Dumbledore’ll think we made it up to get him sacked, seeing as we all hate him. Flich won’t help us and he’ll want us thrown out anyway. And not to mention, we’re not supposed to know about the Stone _or_ Fluffy, and I don’t feel like getting into more trouble.”

Hermione sighed and nodded and I was forced to agree. Neville looked troubled, his brow furrowed in worry.

Later on, Harry Hermione and Neville had to serve their detentions. I waited up late at night, studying for charms as always, declining Fred and George’s invitation to explore (I needed to wait for my other friends, and they understood.) When they returned, Harry had yet another fantastic story to tell that I had missed – of centaurs and the Forbidden Forest, that Voldemort was drinking Unicorn blood and things were darker than we had even feared.

I didn’t let slip that I still wanted to explore the Forest and that Fred and George were going to do so with me next term.

“Snape wants the stone for Voldemort… and Voldemort’s waiting in the forest… and all this time we thought Snape just wanted to get rich…” Harry whispered, “Firenze saved me, but he shouldn’t have done so… Bane was furious… he was talking about interfering with what the planets say is going to happen… They must show that Voldemort’s coming back… Bane thinks Firenze should have let Voldemort kill me… I suppose that’s written in the stars as well. So all I’ve got to wait for now is Snape to steal the Stone, and then Voldemort will be able to come and finish me off… Well, I suppose Bane will be happy,” Harry finished. I reached over and gently gripped Harry’s arm in similar fear.

Neville looked terrified, but said, “Harry, Dumbledore’s the only one You-Know-Who was ever afraid of. With Dumbledore around, he won’t touch you.”

Hermione nodded in agreement and continued, “Anyway, who says the centaurs are right? It sounds like fortune-telling to me, and Professor McGonagall says that’s a very imprecise branch of magic.”

We continued talking until the dawn, but I went to bed after Harry. He came downstairs and showed me that the Invisibility Cloak had been returned to him after losing it during his midnight wandering. I looked at him in surprise, and went to bed, awaiting the end of exams, term, and a very frightening year indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Second chapter of the day! Updates will be pretty frequent until I'm done editing since I already have it written. Enjoy, and leave kudos and comments please!


	9. Chapter Eight: Final Exams - End of Term, 1992

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'm sure you recognize my noise and you heard about the pit
> 
> Been told to be afraid of everything that lives with it
> 
> But it's much worse where you are
> 
> So will you go for it?
> 
> I have a feeling you might
> 
> Feeling you might."
> 
> ~ Silversun Pickups, "The Pit"

Chapter Eight: Final Exams – End of Term, 1992

No one could ever joke and say that Hogwarts Final Exams were a piece of cake. In fact, they were rather brutal, and I was fairly amazed that I managed to study and focus on them when I was absolutely convinced that there was someone out to kill my brother every second of every day. It was absolutely terrifying and the only way I managed to distract myself was by transfiguring little objects for practice even after the transfiguration exam was done.

Every classroom was much, much too hot. I refused to wear my uniform sweater, instead just showing up in my white polo shirt with the sleeves rolled up and my tie very loose around my neck. I didn’t even bother with robes anymore and none of the teachers found the heart to argue with me about it. The written exams were thus the worst, with me slaving away over a piece of parchment trying to recall everything I had ever learned.

The practical exams weren’t too bad, though the charms one was the worst. My pineapple barely managed to dance across the desk, but I felt at the very least as though I had passed. For transfiguration I had to turn a mouse into a snuffbox, and I do believe I passed that one with top marks, as my snuffbox had an extremely intricate design of a dragon on the cover that McGonagall looked very impressed with. For potions we had to make a forgetfulness potion, which I feel I managed to put together alright – I wasn’t great at potions but I wasn’t terrible either, and Snape didn’t seem to hate me so he encouraged what improvement I showed in our tea sessions.

Harry was always rubbing his scar in irritation, which had never really happened before, and he always had nightmare face when we met in the morning for breakfast. It concerned Hermione and me alike, though Neville was rather clueless about the whole thing, as focused as he was to learn potions and try to pass it.

Our last exam was History of Magic, a subject I quite hoped to be done with in the near future (but knew that simply wouldn’t be the case.) After the hour of hell I felt that final liberation that came with being done with exams and not knowing what your marks were, not having to worry about how terrible I had done. I ran up to Harry after the end of the exam and high fived him, hugged Hermione and Neville, and I spun around in joy. Fred and George walked by with a rather smoking vial of some sort of potion and laughed at our inordinate glee before continuing on.

“That was far easier than I thought it would be,” Hermione commented as we went down to the lake, all four of us, and collapsed upon the grass, “I needn’t have learned about the 1637 Werewolf Code of Conduct or the uprising of Elfirc the Eager.”

“Would you stop going over our exams once they’re done?” I laughed, “History’s never really been my thing here.”

“At home you loved muggle history,” Harry commented, plucking some grass from the ground.

“Fine. Here we have a ghost teaching us about dead people and it’s not really my thing,” I laughed, tossing a ball up into the air and catching it repeatedly as Neville lay in the grass and most definitely took a nap. Fred, George and Lee were off in the distance ticking the giant squid, and I had half a mind to join them when I realized that I simply didn’t have the urge to get up and they could continue with that shenanigan by themselves.

Harry continued to rub his scar and I looked at him in concern.

“I wish I knew what this _means_ ,” Harry groaned, “It’s happened before, but never as often as this… I think it’s a warning, it means danger’s coming…”

“Well I wouldn’t worry about it, Harry,” I commented, “I mean the Stone’s safe as long as Dumbledore’s around, and we don’t know if Snape knows how to get past Fluffy. And Neville will become the head of the Potions League before Hagrid lets down Dumbledore.”

Harry nodded, but still looked troubled as we all lounged in the grass. I had half a mind to go upstairs and get my bow and arrows for some practice (I was improving every time, thank you, and was hitting the bulls-eye most often now,) when Harry jumped up in alarm. Hermione and I looked at him and Neville continued to nap complacently.

“I’ve just thought of something, we’ve got to go and see Hagrid, now,” Harry gasped in shock. He started walking quickly towards Hagrid’s hut and I got to my feet to follow. Hermione hastily woke up Neville and they ran to catch up to us. Harry had been waiting for them to explain further _why_ we were running to Hagrid’s.

“Don’t you think it’s a bit odd, that what Hagrid wants more than anything else is a dragon, and a stranger turns up who just happens to have an egg in his pocket? How many people wander around with dragon eggs if it’s against wizard law? Lucky they found Hagrid, don’t’ you think? Why didn’t I see it before?” Harry groaned as we reached the hut, where Hagrid was sitting outside and shelling peas.

“Ah, Maggie, do yeh want ter practice with the bow? I can go get the target…” Hagrid greeted cheerfully.

“No, we’re in a hurry. Hagrid, I’ve got to ask you something. You know that night you won Norbert? What did the stranger you were playing cards with look like?” Harry hurriedly cut me off from accepting Hagrid’s invitation.

“Dunno,” Hagrid responded, “He wouldn’ take his cloak off.”

I looked at him in shock for blatantly accepting such a thing from a suspicious stranger.

“It’s not that unusual, yeh get a lot o’ funny folk in the Hog’s Head – that’s the pub down in the village. Mighta bin a dragon dealer, mightn’ he? I never saw his face, he kept his hood up.”

Harry didn’t appear to be able to stand and sat next to the bowl of peas.

“What did you talk to him about, Hagrid? Did you mention Hogwarts at all?” Harry continued insistently.

“Mighta come up,” Hagrid was frowning, “Yeah, he asked what I did, an’ I told him I was gamekeeper here… He asked a bit about the sorta creatures I look after… so I told him… an’ I said what I’d always really wanted was a dragon… an’ then… I can’ remember too well, cause he kept buyin’ me drinks… Let’s see… yeah, then he said he had the dragon egg an’ we could play cards fer it if I wanted… but he had ter be sure I could handle it, he didn’ want it ter go ter any old home… So I told him, after Fluffy, a dragon would be easy…”

“Was he… keen on Fluffy?” I asked calmly.

“Well – yeah – how many three headed dogs d’yeh meet, even around Hogwarts? So I told him, Fluffy’s a piece o’ cake if yeh know how to calm him down, jus’ play him a bit o’ music an’ he’ll go straight off ter sleep – I shouldn’ta told yeh that! Forget I said it! Hey – where’re yeh goin?”

I had grabbed Hermione’s arm after having mine grabbed by Harry, and she grabbed Neville’s arm, and we ran off to the castle to the entrance hall as fast as we could.

“We’ve got to go to Dumbledore,” Harry gasped, “Hagrid told that stranger how to get past Fluffy, and it was either Snape or Voldemort, I just hope Dumbledore believes us. Where’s his office? Do any of you know?”

We both shook our heads and looked around wildly, unable to find any sort of sign or something pointing the way. Harry looked determined but we all whirled around to see Professor McGonagall as she called out, “What are you four doing inside?”

“We want to see Professor Dumbledore,” Hermione responded bravely.

“See Professor Dumbledore? Why?” Professor McGonagall replied, her eyes clearly displaying her suspicion.

“”It’s sort of secret,” Harry sighed, but Professor McGonagall was definitely not pleased with that answer.

“Professor Dumbledore left ten minutes ago. He received an urgent owl from the Ministry of Magic and flew off for London at once,” McGonagall replied coldly.

“He’s _gone_?” I gasped, “ _Now_?”

“Professor Dumbledore is a very great wizard, Johnson, he has many demands on his time…”

“But… but professor, this is important!” Neville interjected.

“Something you have to say is more important than the Minstry of Magic, Longbottom?”

“Look,” Harry sighed, “Professor, it’s about the Philospher’s Stone…”

Professor McGonagall dropped all her books and she didn’t bother to pick them up from the ground.

“What… How do you know…?” McGonagall spluttered.

“Professor, we’ve been… well, we know that someone is going to try and steal the Stone, and we really need to talk to Professor Dumbledore,” I begged, hoping that McGonagall’s fondness of me would help plead our case.

“Professor Dumbledore will be back tomorrow. I don’t know how you found out about the Stone, but rest assured, no one can possibly steal it, it’s too well protected,” McGonagall replied firmly.

“But, Professor…” Neville begged.

“Longbottom, I know what I’m talking about. I suggest you all go back outside and enjoy the sunshine,” she replied irritably. She turned and walked up the stairs after packing up her books, us watching her go with fear.

“It’s tonight,” Harry whispered as soon as she was out of earshot, “Snape’s going through the trapdoor tonight. He’s found out everything he needs, and now he’s got Dumbledore out of the way. He sent that note, I bet the Minitry of magic will get a real shock when Dumbledore turns up.”

“But what can we –“ I began.

Hermione suddenly gasped. I wheeled around with Harry to see Professor Snape standing above us.

“Good afternoon,” he greeted smoothly. I looked at him and, while grimacing, mumbled something about a good afternoon to him too. Neville looked paralyzed with fear.

“You shouldn’t be inside on a day like this,” he commented with a strange smile.

“We were…” Harry looked at a loss for words.

“You want to be more careful. Hanging around like this, people will think you’re up to something. And Gryffindor really can’t afford to lose any more points, can it? Be warned, Potter – any more nighttime wanderings and I will personally make sure you are expelled. Good day to you,” and Snape was gone. Harry turned to us, looking exceptionally grim. Neville immediately loosened up but he still looked as pale as a ghost.

“Right, here’s what we’ve got to do. One of us has got to keep an eye on Snape – wait outside the staff room and follow him if he leaves it. Hermione, you’d better do that,” Harry ordered.

“Why me?”

“You can be pretending to wait for a Professor, freaking out about your exam grade,” I explained, “Talk to Professor Flitwick about charms or something.”

“Alright then,” Hermione nodded.

“I’ll go with you,” I paused, “I’m worried about charms anyway. Neville, Harry, you go guard the third floor.”

Neville nodded earnestly and the two ran off together. Hermione and I also took off and we went to the staff room, waiting nervously outside of the door. Hermione looked at me in worry and I shrugged, wringing my wrists in terror. We were only standing there for a few minutes before Professor Snape actually walked outside of the room.

“And _what_ ,” he paused for a long time, “Are you two doing out here?”

“I… erm…” I stammered.

“We both wanted to ask Professor Flitwick about our charms examns,” Hermion responded smoothly.

Professor Snape raised an eyebrow before looking at me sternly.

“Charms is my worst subject. I want to make sure I passed,” I explained calmly.

“I will go and get him for you,” Professor Snape then agreed, before going into the staff room and coming out with the little man. After doing so, he turned and went down the corridor in a flurry of robes, with no way for us to hold him back.

“Yes, girls, I believe I have looked at both of your exams,” Professor Flitwick squeaked. Now my heart was pounding in my chest for a completely different reason – I wasn’t ready to face _this_ yet.

“Miss Granger, you passed my exam with a hundred and twelve percent. I honestly do not know why you are here at this moment,” he explained, his voice holding a hint of amusement. I swallowed heavily.

“Miss Johnson, never fret. You passed, with a respectable seventy percent,” Professor Flitwick smiled kindly. I felt my heart relax and a huge weight lifted from my shoulders.

“Oh thank you, professor, thank you,” I breathed.

“Of course. Now you two go and enjoy the weather!” he encouraged before running off back into the staff room. I turned to Hermione in relief.

“Oh thank god,” I whispered, “I passed.” Hermione, however, still looked worried.

“We should go warn Harry that Snape left!” Hermione urged.

“What?” I asked in confusion, momentarily forgetting why we were there. Hermione gave me a look and I gasped, “Oh!” And we took off running together back to the third floor.

No one was at it, though the door was closed. Hermione squeaked in terror and dragged me off to the Common Room, sprinting as fast as we could through the corridors. We entered the Common Room and Harry and Neville were sitting there nervously.  

“I’m sorry, Harry! Snape came out and asked us what we were doing, so I said we werewaiting for Flitwick, and Snape went to get him, and we only just got away, we don’t know where Snape went,” Hermione wailed.

“Well, that’s it then. I’m going out of here tonight and I’m going to try and get to the Stone first,” Harry sighed.

“You’re mental,” I muttered.

“You’ll get Gryffindor into trouble again,” Neville agreed.

“You can’t! After what McGonagall and Snape have said? You’ll be expelled!” Hermione gasped.

“SO WHAT?” Harry shouted, “Don’t you understand? If Snape gets hold of the Stone, Voldemort’s coming back! Haven’t you heard what it was like when he was trying to take over? There won’t be any Hogwarts to get expelled from! He’ll flatten it, or turn it into a school for the Dark Arts! Losing points doesn’t matter anymore, can’t you see? D’you think he’ll leave you and your families alone if Gryffindor wins the house cup? If I get caught before I can get to the Stone, well, then I’ll have to go home Maggie and wait for Voldemort to get me there, or I guess I’ll have to go on the run because I won’t want your family to die for me, because I’m never going over to the Dark Side! I’m going through that trapdoor tonight and nothing you three say is going to stop me! Voldemort killed my parents, remember?” Harry glared at us all angrily.

“You’re right, Harry,” Hermione mumbled.

“I’ll use the Invisibility Cloak, it’s just lucky I got it back,” Harry declared.

“Will it cover the four of us?” Neville asked.

“All… all four of us?” Harry whispered.

“Look, do you honestly thing Hermione and I will let you go alone?” I shook my head.

“How do you think you’d get to the Stone without us? I’d better go and look through my books, there might be something useful…” Hermione paused.

“But if we get caught, you three will get expelled, too,” Harry sighed.

“Not if I can help it,” Hermione replied grimly, “Flitwick told me in secret that I got a hundred and twelve percent on his exam. They’re not throwing me out after that.”

“Can I borrow twelve percents?” I joked lightly, though the fact that I passed was all I wanted. In the darkness of the situation, and the direness of what we were about to do, and the complete out of place nature of my comment, Harry just burst out laughing and had to steady himself against the wall. Neville and Hermione also burst into fits of giggles and I felt right proud of myself.

We waited ages for the Common Room to clear out that evening. I changed into shorts and a long-sleeved shirt, Hermione changed into a dress, Harry into a t-shirt and jeans, and Neville into flannel and khakis. Fred and George asked me if I wanted to come with them on another adventure, but this time I regretfully declined again. It was a while before they and Lee Jordan went to sleep, but when they did we all lept into action.

“Go get the cloak, Harry,” I urged. Harry nodded and went upstairs to the dormitory, returning with his flute as well as the cloak. I decided that if we needed my archery skills we were pretty much doomed and didn’t go up to my dormitory.

“We’d better put the cloak on here, and make sure it covers all four of us – can’t have one of our feet sticking out…” Harry commented.

“What are you doing?” a voice suddenly commented. Ron Weasley walked downstairs from the boy’s dormitory, looking at us in anger.

“What? Nothing,” Harry frowned, hiding the Invisibility Cloak behind him.

“You’re going out in the middle of the night again,” Ron frowned angrily.

“N-no, no we’re not,” Neville responded calmly, “What makes you think that? Go to bed, Ron.”

“You’re nervous,” Ron squinted his eyes in anger.

“I’m always nervous,” Neville responded with a laugh.

“Look, you can’t go out again. You’ll be caught, and we’ll lose points, and the last time you did that it went _so_ well,” Ron argued sarcastically.

 “This is more important than all that,” Harry responded, “Seriously, Ron.”

“I’m not going to let you do it. Sorry,” Ron shrugged, “I know my twins, and breaking all these rules doesn’t actually help anyone.” Ron walked over to the portrait hole and stood in front of it defiantly.

 “Get away from the hole, Weasley,” I demanded angrily.

“You don’t know what you’re doing, Ron,” Harry begged.

“I don’t trust the four of you to go out and get the job done. I mean look at last time. You can’t not get caught,” Ron rolled his eyes, “Especially with Maggie and Neville coming along.”

“What’s _that_ supposed to mean?” I demanded angrily.

“Between how loud you are and how much Neville bumbles there’s no way you’ll get away with it, so I’m not letting you go,” Ron explained with a shrug.

Hermione whipped out her wand and angrily shouted, “Petrificus totalus!”

Ron suddnely froze up, as stiff as a board, and fell to the ground. I looked at the seen with wide eyes and Neville let out a squeak of shock.

“Hermione,” Harry declared loudly, “I bloody _love_ you.”

Hermione’s cheeks flushed red with embarrassment as Neville threw the cloak over the four of us. We crept through the corridors silently, sulkily. I felt like with every corner we turned there would be another obstacle to stop us in our tracks, but there seemed to be a great lack of enemies as we walked. We passed by Mrs. Norris quite smoothly, before running into Peeves, my least favorite spirit of the castle.

“Who’s there?” he called out as we walked towards him, “Know you’re there, even if I can’t see you. Are you ghoulie or ghostie or wee student beastie? Should call Filch, I should, if something’s a-creeping around unseen,” he declared.

“Peeves,” Harry suddenly whispered hoarsely, “the Bloody Baron has his own reasons for being invisible.”

I remembered how the only ghost that could control Peeves was the Slytherin Ghost, the Bloody Baron. Harry’s impression was surprisingly spot-on.

“So sorry, your bloodiness, Mr. Baron, sir. My mistake, my mistake – I didn’t see you – of course I didn’t, you’re invisible – forgive old Peevsie his little joke, sir,” Peeves stammered quickly.

“I have business here, Peeves. Stay away from this place tonight,” Harry croaked.

“I will, sir, I most certainly will. Hope your business goes well, Baron, I’ll not bother you,” Peeves agreed, going up and flying away at once.

“ _That was amazing_ ,” Neville whispered in awe.

We finally got to the third floor, where the door was already ajar. Harry turned to the three of us and took a deep breath.

“If you want to go back, I won’t blame you. You can take the cloak, I won’t need it now,” Harry whispered.

“Don’t be an idiot,” I hissed.

“We’re coming,” Hermione agreed.

“We’ve gotten this far!” Neville insisted.

Harry pushed the door open and the dog immediately looked around, sniffing in our direction but unable to see us. At its feet was a harp that Snape must have left behind.

Harry put Hagrid’s flute to his lips and blew, playing a small little tune that I’m sure he had been practicing since Christmas. Eventually the dog’s eyes began to droop and he stopped growling, tottering on his paws and falling to the ground fast asleep.

“Keep playing,” I ordered, sneaking out of the cloak and creeping to the trapdoor. Harry, Neville and Hermione followed as I looked over at the trapdoor.

“We can pull it open, who wants to go first?” I called softly.

“Better you then us,” Neville and Hermione replied and Harry nodded vigorously as he continued to play. I sighed and stepped carefully over the dog and opened the trapdoor, to see just blackness below.

“We’ll just have to drop,” I whispered softly, “If anything happens to me…”

Harry started shaking his head furiously and pointed to himself. I groaned and Hermione took the flute from him to continue playing. Harry then walked forward to the trapdoor and looked at us.

“If anything happens to me, don’t follow. Go straight to the owlery and send Hedwig to Dumbledore, right?” Harry whispered.

“Yeah,” Neville looked terrified, but his fists were clenched at his sides, almost as though he were willing himself to participate.

“See you in a minute, I hope…” and Harry jumped down into the trapdoor and landed on something, as the sound could be heard from up above.

“It’s okay!” I heard him call, “It’s a soft landing, you can jump!”

I followed immediately, landing next to Harry. Neville followed soon afterwards and then Hermione did, the music abruptly stopping above us as she tumbled next to us.

“We must be miles under the school,” Hermione whispered.

I looked down and felt my eyes widen. We were sitting on a plant, a plant that if I wasn’t mistaken (and when it came to Herbology, I usually wasn’t) was Devil’s Snare.

“Oh my gosh,” Neville shouted, standing up as soon as I did having seen the Snare. Hermione followed moments afterwards, Harry looking at the three of us in confusion.

“What the –“ and then he looked down and saw himself being encased by tendrils form the plant that were tying around his legs. He immediately started to struggle, making the vines tighten harder.

“Harry, stop moving!” I shouted, “You’re just making it worse!”

“What am I supposed to do?” he responded angrily.

“You need to light a fire!” I explained.

“There’s no wood!” Hermione screamed.

“ _Hermione have you lost your mind_?” Neville responded in anger, pointing his wand at the snare and shouting, “Incendio!” Flames came out of the wand and hit the plant, which loosened its grip from Harry. Neville looked less nervous than he had the entire evening, breathing heavily as he gripped his wand tightly.

“Holy cow Neville!” I gasped.

“I do believe that’s the best bit of magic you’ve done all year,” Hermione praised.

Neville looked at us all in shock and down at his wand in equal measure. He swallowed heavily and looked at us in amazement.

“I-I’m… usually so scared of messing up…” Neville whispered.

“Well, looks like a high pressure situation changed that,” Harry commented lightly, walking over to Neville and clapping him on the shoulder, “Thanks mate.”

“There’s no wood. Seriously, Hermione? Wood?” I rolled my eyes as we started walking down a stone corridor ahead of us.

 “I was just completely drawing a blank,” Hermione explained.

“I also… helped Professor Sprout in the greenhouses this summer. She showed me her snare… she showed me how to keep it tame,” Neville suddenly interjected, still looking amazed with himself.

“Well, it look like that came in handy,” I frowned, looking back at the snare.

“What, Maggie? Harry asked.

“Don’t you think it’s odd that Sprout would teach a _first year_ how to deal with such a deadly plant?” I asked thoughtfully.

“She… did tell me to keep away from most other things in the greenhouse,” Neville admitted.

“Are you saying she trained Neville for this?” Hermione asked in amusement, “How would she know we would all go down here? Or more specifically, why _Neville_ would come down here?”

“I dunno, why did Hagrid give Harry a flute? I’m just saying, it’s fishy,” I rolled my eyes as we kept climbing downward, going futher and further through the school. As we continued, I suddenly could hear a soft rustling and clinking sound.

“What do you think it is?” Hermione whispered.

“It’s a rustling sound…” Neville frowned.

“I see some light up ahead,” I pointed.

“It looks like something’s moving,” Harry nodded. We continued to the end of the passageway and came into a large, brightly lit chamber. It was full of small, sparkling birds that flew all over the room. On the opposite side of the room was a large door.

“Will… will they attack us if we cross?” Neville asked nervously.  

“I’m suddenly reminded of that old muggle film, _The Birds_ ,” I hissed softly.

“Great, Maggie, thank you _so_ much for that image,” Harry shuddered, “Here, I’ll… I’ll run.”

Harry covered his face, took a deep breath, and sprinted forward. However, nothing swooped down to attack him. He was pulling the handle of the door as we approached, but it appeared locked.

“Now what?” I sighed softly.

“These birds… they can’t just be here for decoration,” Hermione commented.

We looked up at the glittering birds and all came to the same realization at once.

“They’re not birds! They’re _keys_!” Harry gasped.

“Winged keys!” I nodded furiously.

“That must mean we’ve got to find the right key…” Hermione frowned.

“There are broomsticks over there,” Neville pointed to a spot across the room.  

“There are _hundreds_ of keys,” I sighed.

“We’re looking for a big, old-fashioned one – probably silver, like the handle,” Harry commented. Neville sat out, seeing as there were only three brooms. I was terrible at flying, as was Hermione, but Harry more than made up for our lack of skill. We weaved around in between the keys and suddenly Harry pointed, calling out, “That one! That big one – there – no, there – with bright blue wings – the feathers are all crumpled on one side.”

I looked and I saw it, frowning slightly as to how we were going to manage to get it.

“We’ve got to close in on it!” Harry called, with clear focus, “Maggie, you come at it from above – Hermione, stay below and stop it from going down – I’ll go from the side. Right, NOW!”

I sped around above and dived but the key managed to dodge me. Still, Harry sped forward, up to the wall, where he trapped the key with a nasty, sickening crunch. I immediately burst into cheers, as did Hermione and Neville.

We all landed and Harry ran to the door, forcing the key in to the lock and turned. The key took flight again once the door was opened, and we all went forward into the next chamber. It was exceptionally dark, but when we walked inside light flooded the room.

We were standing on the edge of a huge chessboard, behind the black chessmen. On the other side were the white pieces, and all the chess pieces had no faces. Behind the white side was another door.

“Now what do we do?” I whispered.

“Suddenly, I wish Ron was here,” Neville groaned, “Why did you have to petrify him, Hermione?”

“We can do this,” Hermione frowned, “I’ve been reading up on chess. Harry’s been playing with Ron. Maggie’s also been looking at it. Neville, how good are you?”

“You really think we have to play, to get past this?” Harry asked in annoyance.

“Of course,” Hermonie pointed to some smashed pieces, “It’s wizard’s chess.”

“I’m… not good,” Neville lamented.

“So how do we do this?” Harry asked.

“I think we’ll be chessmen, and replace the missing pieces,” Hermione explained, “There’s the queen, a bishop, a castle, and a knight. Harry, you take the place of the bishop. I’ll be a castle. Neville, you should be the Queen, no offence but she’s the piece that has the easiest time getting away. Maggie, you be the knight,” Hermione decided, her brow furrowed in concentration.

We all took our spaces and walked onto the board. Neville looked extremely nervous.

“Is… is this going to be like real wizard’s chess?” Neville asked timidly.

“Probably, given the wrecked pieces,” Harry answered in annoyance. Neville looked terrified and was clenching his fists again.

“We’ll all work together to get us across safely,” Hermione reassured, “None of us are much good on our own but with all of us working together we might stand a chance.”

Neville nodded, closed his eyes for a moment, and opened them with a determined facial expression. I looked at the swords in the piece’s hands with my own private worries, but the looming threat of the dark side reinforced my resolve.

Together, we all directed the pieces to move across the board. Multiple times Harry and Hermione argued for a little too long about where a piece would go, but I would remind them that time was of the essence. Neville even had some important thoughts to include, insisting that allowing the other knight to be taken would help Hermione take the bishop of the white pieces.

“See?” Neville responded, his voice shaking as the other knight was dragged off the board. It was just as violent as I had feared.

“Good job, Neville,” Hermione reassured as we continued to play. The white pieces showed no mercy as we all tentatively moved about the board, trying to preserve our own lives while still getting across. But still, it wasn’t quite enough.

I squinted at the board as Harry and Hermione argued about our next move. I looked at Hermione and I saw her facial expression.

“Hermione,” I whispered.

“No, there’s got to be another way,” she insisted.

“ _Hermione_!” I shouted. I looked at the white queen, dangerously close to me, and swallowed.

“Look, we can go around, it’s –“ Hermione angrily roared.

“No, there’s not,” I snapped, “We’re running out of time. You lot _have_ to get across and this gives us a clear shot.”

“What’s going on?” Neville asked nervously.

“There’s no way past this without someone getting hurt, we have to move back,” Harry groaned.

“Or, someone gets hurt!” I roared. The sound echoed off the walls as I looked at Harry and Hermione sternly.

“If I get taken by the Queen,” I explained in a quieter voice, though it was wavering, “Then Harry can check the king.”

“ _No!”_ Harry shouted angrily, “NO, Maggie, I will _not_ let you do that!”

“It’s chess! It’s _life_! It’s a **battle**!” I yelled in response, “You make sacrifices! This is a clear shot, we have to take it. I want you to stop Voldemort, Harry. I want you to get the stone. I don’t want you to lose and not get to the other side just for me. Remember the Mirror?” I asked as calmly as I could, “I want you safe more than _I_ want to be safe. And to get that, you have to stop Voldemort. So I’m going to do this whether you like it or not.”

Harry was shaking his head wildly. Hermione was crying slightly and Neville had a desperate expression on his face.

“It’s _not_ your choice,” I insisted firmly, and then directed my horse forward to the correct square. I looked up at the white queen and closed my eyes tightly. The last thing I felt was her large sword smashing over my head, and I blacked out.

I woke up to very, very bright lights that made my head hurt even more. I blinked a few times and looked around, finding myself in the Hospital Wing (a place I had managed to avoid up until now, though I had always known it was only a matter of time.) I sat up groggily and looked to the bedside table to see a lot of sweets and cards.

“Ah, Maggie. You’ve woken up,” I heard a calm voice call out. I blinked and looked up to see Professor Dumbledore standing over me.

“What happened?!” I gasped, looking around wildly, “With the Stone, and Harry and Neville and Hermione, and Voldemort, and…”

“That is quite the harrowing tale,” Dumbledore answered with a twinkle in his eye, “I’m sure your friends can tell you all about it, of course.”

“So they’re OK?” I breathed, “All of them?”

“Well, Harry is still unconscious over there, but he’ll come round soon enough,” Dumbledore nodded to the bed next to me, “Mr. Longbottom returned to fetch me they won the chess match, and Miss Granger did the same once she helped Harry through the final obstacle. I’m sure they’ll be happy to see you’re alright.”

I nodded, frowning, “And Ron?”

“Mr. Weasley is… moderately embarrassed over the proceedings but he seems to be recovering well,” Dumbledore’s eyes were twinkling excessively.

“Please, Professor, can you tell me the story?” I finally begged, on the edge of my seat with suspense.

“Oh, that’s Harry’s prerogative; I wouldn’t take away the adventure from him, would I?” Dumbledore laughed, “And don’t worry, you’ve only been out for a day. I managed to get Miss Granger to feed your lizard.”

I laughed weakly and turned to eat a chocolate frog from my bedside table. As I examined the table, I saw a large toilet seat with a bow on top of it, a small card reading underneath it _With Love from Fred and George_. I couldn’t stop giggling every time I looked at it.

Harry remained unconscious for the rest of the day, and the next, and the day after that. In the meantime I was released from the Wing and went back to the Common Room cheerfully, where Hermione ran forward and hugged me happily.

“I’m _so_ glad you’re OK, Maggie!” Hermione laughed in my ear. I beamed at her in response. Neville hugged me tightly, more tightly than I was really expecting.

“Hey, I’m okay,” I smiled reassuringly at him. He flushed with embarrassment as Fred and George walked over to us.

“Glad to see you’re up and about, Maggie,” Fred beamed.

“Let me just… Here we go,” George was laughing as he put the toilet seat around my neck like a necklace. I looked down at it and rolled my eyes in amusement.

“How’d you get this past Madam Pomfrey?” I chortled, “And, may I ask, did you _clean_ this before you gave it to me?”

“Oh, we snuck it in when she wasn’t looking – portrait of Barney the Ill, next to her office, direct link from the library. We’re surprised she didn’t notice it, but we did conceal it rather well,” Fred explained.

“And don’t worry, we gave it a very thorough clean for you,” George laughed.

“Honestly, I don’t know _what_ to do with this thing, but it feels like a crime to throw it in the bin,” I rolled my eyes. Hermione had her arms folded across her chest but she was laughing too, and Neville was giggling uncontrollably. Fred and George bowed to me and walked off to go talk to Lee as I ran off with Hermione and Neville to discuss what had happened when I passed out.

Harry had managed to checkmate the king. Neville doubled back across the board and ran to the Owlery, and managed to run into Professor Dumbledore on the way. After the chessboard there had been a troll that had been knocked out exactly like the one from Halloween. And after that there was a room with quite a few potions all lined up, and a fire blocking both the entrance and the exit – Hermione had solved a logic puzzle and Harry went forward, her doubling back to go help bring me to the Hospital Wing and running into Neville, who assisted with the task as Dumbledore went ahead.

“After that we won’t know until Harry comes to; Dumbledore won’t say anything to us yet,” Hermione finished calmly.

“Right,” I paused.

“However, I don’t think it was Snape after the Stone,” Hermione whispered under her breath.

“Why’d you change your mind?” I asked in amazement.

“Because he’s still been at the teacher’s table for meals and Professor Quirrell’s gone missing,” Hermione replied.

“I KNEW it!” I shouted. Everyone around us looked in shock and I lowered my voice and explained about how I saw Quirrell also performing some sort of spell at the Quidditch game, and how I’d been having tea with Snape since the beginning of the year.

“But you can’t let on you know,” I finished, “Because Snape swore me to secrecy about it, since he was doing it for my mum.”

“Why didn’t you _say_ anything?” Neville gasped.

“Because you three would never have believed me, I had no evidence,” I laughed.

Of course, enough people had overheard our talk that the story spread around the school like wildfire, and Dumbledore finally explained what had happened in the chambers.

When Harry woke up, he told the rest of his harrowing tale from his side, and in much more detail than Dumbledore had – how he faced Quirrell, how the Mirror of Erised held the stone and he could only get it by not actually intending to use it; how the back of Quirrell’s head was Lord Voldemort and that’s why he always wore a turban, and how Quirrell had crumpled underneath his touch.

“And then, Dumbledore told me something else,” Harry continued as I sat on the edge of his bed, listening intently.

“He said my mum… she died to save me, when she didn’t have to die. Voldemort wasn’t planning on killing my mother. And because she sacrificed herself for me, Voldemort’s killing curse rebounded and hit him,” Harry paused, “And now I have her protection with me, forever – it runs in my veins, it’s on my skin. Something that… pure, Dumbledore says… couldn’t come into contact with Voldemort, with Quirrell, and not burn him. So he died,” Harry finished in a whisper.

“Wow,” I whispered.

“Also, Professor Dumbledore was the one who sent my Invisibility Cloak… And I think he wanted us to solve the mystery, too. So something about your theory with Neville and the flute and everything… it might be true. _Also_ , Professor Snape hates me because he hated my father, evidently, but my father saved Snape’s life and for that Snape has been trying to protect me all year,” Harry finished. He was amused that I wasn’t really surprised about that.

“What about the Stone?” I finally asked, eating one of his chocolate frogs.

“Well, it’s going to be destroyed, and the Flamels are going to die,” Harry paused, “They apparently aren’t scared by it at all.”

“I suppose we’ll need to live six hundred years ourselves to really understand,” I laughed. Harry nodded with a smile.

The Great Hall was decked out in green and silver for the end-of-year feast. The last Quidditch match had been lost due to Harry’s absence and everything was settled. It was sad, but I didn’t really see how it could have been helped after the blunders of the year. Harry was let out of the Hospital Wing for the occasion, and Hermione, Neville and I greeted him with bear hugs almost immediately as we sat together at the table.

Dumbledore stood up then, a large smile on his face as he did so.

“Another year, gone!” he began cheerfully, “And I must trouble you with an old man’s wheezing waffle before we sink our teeth into our delicious feast. What a year it has been! Hopefully your heads are all a little fuller than they were… you have the whole summer ahead to get them nice and empty before next year starts… Now, as I understand it, the house cup here needs awarding, and the points stand thus: in fourth place, Gryffindor, with three hundred and twelve points; in third, Hufflepuff, with three hundred and fifty-two; Ravenclaw has four hundred and twenty-six and Slytherin, four hundred and seventy-two.”

The Slytherin table burst into cheers and Draco Malfoy was banging his goblet on the table. I turned to Fred and George and we all faked vomiting together merrily.

“Yes, yes, well done, Slytherin,” Dumbledore continued above the roar, “However, recent events must be taken into account.”

I was very pleased to see the smile wiped off of Draco Malfoy’s face.

“Ahem, I have a few last-minute points to dish out… Let me see, yes… First. To Mr. Neville Longbottom…”

Neville’s eyes widened and he looked like he wanted to shrink into the floor.

“For the most impressively advanced knowledge of herbology I have seen in many years, I award Gryffindor house thirty points.”

The Gryffindors all burst into cheers and Hermione and I threw our arms around Neville in tight bear hugs. He was flushed with extreme embarrassment, having not won many points for Gryffindor in his time here, simply bouncing with me as I jumped up and down in excitement.

“Second, to Miss Hermione Granger, for the use of cool logic in the face of fire, I award Gryffindor house thirty points,” Dumbledore continued.

We burst into cheers again, me screaming out, “RESIDENT GENIUS, RIGHT OVER HERE FOLKS!” Hermione had buried her face in her arms and I had a funny feeling she had burst into tears.

“Third, to Miss Maggie Johnson, for bravely sacrificing herself for her friends and family, I award Gryffindor house forty points,” Dumbledore went on.

The roar was deafening – we were a hundred points up. Fred and George immediately walked over to me and lifted me onto their shoulders, standing up, and I couldn’t stop laughing.

“A Noble Sacrifice!” both cheered, and I was laughing hysterically.

“Fourth, to Mr. Harry Potter,” Dumbledore called over the din. Everyone went silent, though Fred and George refused to let me down from their shoulders and I felt like I was sticking out like a sore thumb, as tall as I was over the crowd.

“For pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award Gryffindor house sixty points,” Dumbledore stated.

Everyone started screaming at the top of their lungs. I jumped down from Fred and George’s shoulders and pulled Harry up and onto them, jumping up and down like a maniac. We now had exactly the same number of points as Slytherin, and the pandemonium was mental.

Dumbledore raised his hand and Fred and George stopped spinning Harry around.

“There are all kinds of courage,” Dumbledore was beaming, “It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, but just as much to stand up to our friends. I therefore award ten points to Mr. Ronald Weasley.”

A bomb must have gone off in the Great Hall with the cheering that erupted. Fred and George both essentially tackled their brother to the floor as Percy started shouting, “ _THAT’S MY BROTHER!_ ” at the top of his lungs. I was screaming so loudly in happiness along with everyone else that I could feel my voice growing hoarse.

“Which means,” Dumbledore called out, trying to talk over all the Gryffindors, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs celebrating, “We need a little change of decoration!”

He clapped his hands and all the banners changed to red and gold, all the snakes to lions. Snape was shaking McGonagall’s hand with a forced smile. I smirked at him and he merely shook his head with an eye roll. As I had found out that afternoon, he had discovered I had never believed him to be working with Voldemort, and for that he had said, “You’re more your mother’s daughter than I had given you credit for,” and given me a plate of much more well-cooked biscuits. Though I knew he would always hate Harry, I was glad I could provide a barrier for that unfortunate rivalry.

Exam results came out the next day, much to everyone’s surprise. Hermione got top marks in everything except two subjects, and had the highest marks of the grade. Harry had done surprisingly well. Hermione hadn’t come out on top in Herbology, where Neville had beaten her, and she actually tied for second place with me. As for me, I managed to do well in almost everything – managing to pass History of Magic as well as Charms; doing as well as Harry in the other subjects, tying with Hermione in Herbology, and _beating_ Hermione for first place in Transfiguration. Unfortunately, Goyle had passed everything too, as did Crabbe. But I think we had enough victories in that week for a lifetime.

END OF BOOK ONE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I changed around a bunch of things here - but keep in mind Ron hasn't been much the friend of Harry and co in my version, he's been hanging out with Dean and Seamus. I feel like Ron, in the absence of Harry, would turn out a lot like Percy, in his quest to be Head Boy etc. Don't worry, Ron has a major plot in the story from fourth year on - I don't throw him to the wolves! His personality and Maggie's personality are just... they're immiscible. He can't be a part of the main group. Please comment and leave kudos! Thanks!


	10. Chapter Nine: Summer 1992, The Nest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "There's a struggle coming, but to conquer,
> 
> First they must divide.
> 
> The machines keep humming night and day.
> 
> How are we so unaware,
> 
> Why are you not afraid?"
> 
> ~ Rise Against, "A Beautiful Indifference"

Chapter Nine: Summer 1992, The Nest

I woke up one morning, deep into the summer months, feeling extraordinarily uncomfortable in the summer heat, to Darwin tapping on the window. I had a lofted bed next to the window on the second floor, and as such Darwin was literally perched next to my face.

I sighed and reached to open the window, allowing the owl to hop onto my chest. I grunted with shock and took the letter from the owl’s leg.

“Honestly, Darwin, I’m not your perch,” I muttered as I opened up the letter. It was another one from Hermione, and this time she had asked me why Harry hadn’t responded to any of her letters.

I frowned at this. He hadn’t been _getting_ any letters from her, and he was rather saddened by this and thought that she was mad at him for something.

“Oi! Harry!” I shouted. He stirred in his own lofted bed across the room and sat up groggily, taking his glasses and putting them on from the top of the tall wardrobe that stood against the headboard of his loft.

“What could you _possibly_ have to wake me up for, Maggie?” Harry grumbled irritably.

“Hermione said she’s been writing to you,” I frowned, holding up the letter. Harry’s eyes widened in surprise.

“You’re joshing me,” Harry remarked, climbing down from his bed and walking over to mine.

“Nope,” I popped the p, “She says she’s confused as to why you haven’t been writing to her,” I handed the letter down to Harry. He examined it and frowned, giving the letter back to me.

“Do you suppose Neville and Ron have been sending me letters too, and I just haven’t been getting them?” Harry asked with a frown.

“Maybe,” I sighed, “Neville didn’t say anything about it in his last letter, nor did Fred and George...”

“This is so bizarre,” Harry paused and then called out, “Aunt Melinda?!”

My mum immediately appeared at the base of the steps, still really on the first floor, looking up at us.

“What is it, Harry?” she asked, frowning.

“Do letters ever get lost? You know, owl post,” Harry asked as I climbed down from the loft bed.

“Not usually, no; Owls are pretty reliable Harry,” Mum responded, “Why?”

“Well, I haven’t gotten any letters from my friends back at school, but Maggie’s been getting loads; and I mean I automatically assumed they were mad at me for something but then Hermione said in her letter to Maggie that she didn’t understand why I wasn’t responding to her letters and now I’m confused,” Harry explained.

“That’s peculiar,” Mum frowned, “Let me ask about it at work, alright?”

Harry and I both nodded and she went back downstairs. I looked over to the third loft on the other wall, and saw Elena had woken up and probably gone downstairs.

“What do you want to do today, Harry?” I finally asked, folding up the letter and putting it back on my loft, “I’m up for an adventure if you are.”

“Why not, we haven’t been to the forest in ages,” Harry smiled and nodded. We both got dressed and ran outside.

It was amazing how much we had begun to change, both during Hogwarts and afterwards. We had both grown a little taller, still basically staying the same height. Harry’s voice kept squeaking at random moments that sent me into fits of giggles that he would punch me in the arm for. I had begun growing breasts and hips, much to my dismay, and I continuously tried covering them up with overlarge sweatshirts. I had never been girly and this reminder of my femininity was _not_ welcome. Harry, who might have missed lots of things with lots of people, never missed anything with me and couldn’t stop laughing every time I wore a too-big t-shirt.

“I’ll get back at you for this,” I commented as a similar situation happened while I dressed today, “Mark my words, Harry Potter.”

“Right, because I have an equally big problem with puberty as you do,” Harry stuck out his tongue.

Outside, the forest was monstrous as always. I immediately went over to my favorite tree and climbed up to the tallest branch, Harry following behind me. There was something about being in the trees that gave me peace, and Harry didn’t question it anymore.

“Do you really think there are dragons in our forest, Harry?” I asked calmly, as I stared out over the tops of the trees pensively.

“Maggie, if there are, we’re not looking for them,” Harry replied with a grunt, “I know Hebridean Blacks can be found around this area, but please, don’t go looking.”

“I know, I know,” I sighed, “Sorry.”

We watched over the forest in silence, clouds rolling closer to us that meant rain was coming, as always in Britain.

“Do you remember this time last year? How we didn’t even know about any of it?” Harry murmured.

“Deep man,” I teased, “But yeah. And now you’ve faced Lord Voldemort in the flesh… Well, the borrowed flesh I suppose.”

“After that, this year should be rather peaceful, d’you reckon?” Harry chortled.

“I dunno man,” I shook my head, “I’m going to be hanging out with Fred and George the entire year, not just the end of it. And I have this funny feeling there will always be a mystery to solve at Hogwarts.”

“Fair enough,” Harry plucked a leaf off of the tree, “Though hopefully you won’t have to sacrifice yourself in an over-the-top way again.”

“And you physically fighting off Voldy-pants doesn’t count as over the top?” I laughed.

“Nah,” Harry beamed. I rolled my eyes and flicked a twig at him.

“Do you want to go exploring on the floor, now? I mean, we’ve been up here long enough for you to have your fill of the sky,” Harry asked. I sighed and responded, “I suppose.”

As we climbed down from the giant tree, Harry continued, “I mean, I don’t understand why you hate brooms… they bring you up to the sky same as climbing a tree.”

“It’s really not the same,” I responded, “I mean, brooms are so… so _artificial_.”

“You should just live in the woods,” Harry laughed, “And I mean really live in the woods, not in a house. I think you’d be comfortable sleeping on a tree branch.”

“Unfortunately I find it hard to argue with you,” I shook my head as we reached the ground and began exploring through the woods.

“Now, remember, off that way,” I pointed to the left through a bunch of thick undergrowth, “Is the wolf pack. We remember what happened last time, and I don’t feel like going through that again.”

“I fought ‘em off, though,” Harry responded proudly. I rolled my eyes.

“By, in the immortal words of Professor McGonagall, sheer dumb luck,” I paused, “And remember over there,” I went even farther left, at a right angle to where we were standing, “Is the giant cave of no return where we got lost.”

“Yeah, eventually we found our way out,” Harry frowned, “But no, we should _not_ go that way again.”

“Let’s just go straight,” I suggested as we started walking, “We never actually go straight from this angle.”

“No, I don’t think we have; we like the waterfall to the right too much,” Harry agreed, “Let’s be off.”

We walked for a long time, laughing and exploring the deep woods, making sure to dig up the forest floor as we went so we could find our way back. We eventually started playing our old childhood games again – tag, forest monster, hide and seek. However, since going to Hogwarts and learning about the evil in the world, I couldn’t help but feel like we were preparing for a more deadly version of these games.

“Maggie,” Harry panted, following me as I ran off to a small meadow in the middle of the woods, “Where _are_ we going, now?”

“Dunno,” I paused, “You’re still it, you realize.”

“Course I do,” Harry shook his head in amazement, “We’ve been running for miles, I reckon.”

“This forest is huge!” I spread out my arms and twirled around in a circle, “I love it!”

Harry laughed in response as I collapsed into the middle of the field, rolling around in the herbs and flowers.

“You’re completely mad, you know,” Harry chuckled as he sat next to me.

“You’ve known me for almost your whole life,” I replied cheerfully, “Surely you’re aware of this by now?”

“Course, I just figure the more I remind you of it the better chance we have of curing your insanity,” Harry teased. I punched him in the arm and sat up from the grass.

“I can’t wait to go back to Hogwarts,” I commented lightly, “I mean, it’s nice to be home and not have to worry about schoolwork, but I want to be at that big castle with all our friends, learning new things and solving mysteries! This is getting monotonous.”

“I know,” Harry agreed, “We should make up a song.”

“A song? Oh no,” I groaned, “When Harry makes up a song everyone should run for cover.”

Harry rolled his eyes and stood up, taking a dramatic stance, “How should it start? How should it start?”

“I don’t know, Harry, you _know_ I’m not musically inclined,” I rolled my eyes.

“Neither am I, really. Let’s see… I gotta get back to Hogwarts,” he began singing, rather badly. I groaned and covered my eyes, falling back into the grass.

“I gotta get back to school,” Harry continued, dancing around.

“Oh, for the love of everything holy, please stop before you hurt yourself,” I begged, still lying down.

“I gotta get back to Hogwarts,” Harry continued singing as if I had said nothing.

“Alright, keep making a fool of yourself, see if I care,” I shook my head.

“Where everyone thinks I’m cool,” Harry beamed, dancing around me, purposefully taunting me. I decided to sit there in silence and not encourage his behavior.

“Back to witches and wizards, and magical beasts,” Harry continued, laughing.

“To goblins and ghosts and to magical feasts,” I muttered. Harry laughed and pulled me to my feet, spinning me around now that I had contributed lyrics to his silly song.

“It’s all that I love and it’s all that I need!” Harry shouted jovially.

“At Hogwarts, Hogwarts,” I rolled my eyes, and Harry laughed even more at my reluctant response.

“See? We could make a musical!” Harry declared dramatically.

“Oh lord, please don’t,” I shook my head before lying back down in the grass. I suddenly heard a mad hissing in my ear and I jumped up with a shriek. Down where my head had been was a very large snake, it’s tongue flicking in and out of its mouth.

“Geez,” I sighed, “Let’s go, Harry.”

He suddenly began hissing at the snake, something he always did to those creatures. It was always nerve wracking to hear him talk to a snake. We had never told my parents about it, or Elena, or anyone at all that we had met in the past year. I couldn’t do it and we decided it was best to not worry anyone else about Harry’s strange ability.

“Harry, we can go, just let the snake be,” I begged when he finished hissing. But the snake slowly sunk away back into the woods away from us.

“Sorry,” Harry was flushed with embarrassment, “It’s like I can’t help it.”

I nodded, “I’m sorry I freaked out, it just always scares me when you do that.”

“And I know that,” Harry squeezed his eyes tightly shut, “Which is why we haven’t told anyone about it, really.”

I looked at where the snake had gone and grabbed onto Harry’s wrist, forcing him to walk away with me back to the house.

A few weeks later, the mystery of Harry’s letters still had yet to be solved. Neither of us had any idea why he wasn’t receiving any, since now Fred and George indicated that Ron had been writing, as had Neville, and Hagrid had sent plenty indeed. Mum hadn’t found anything out from the Ministry, who were as clueless as we were.

She came home one evening looking rather upset. Elena was reading a book in the corner of the house, purposefully ignoring Harry and me, which she had done often since we came home. Harry and I had originally tried to rectify this, but after a month we gave up, realizing nothing we said to her was any sort of use.

“Argh!” Mum shouted, walking into the kitchen and promptly beginning to slam a pot onto the stove and heated it with her wand as though the stove had committed a great crime against her.

“What’s wrong, mum?” I asked carefully, walking over a respectful distance from her.

“Melinda?” my dad furthered, walking up to mum and rubbing her shoulders, “What’s wrong, dear?”

Mum shook her head and Harry looked at me in confusion. I returned the look and frowned over at my parents.

“It’s the Ministry,” she finally sighed, “Can’t bloody change their ways for anyone or anything. They’re more stubborn than a pack of centaurs about the bloody planets.”

Harry let out a small chuckle that I glared at him for. He promptly shut up and we continued to stare at the pair in worry. Elena even came out of her corner and stood by us.

“What did they do now, sweetheart?” my dad soothed calmly.

“I can’t get promoted,” Mum sobbed, “There’s no way I’ll ever get picked. There are too many laws, too many policies of the Ministry, and too many damn _precedents_ that mean I will always get passed over for someone else. If was working for your government, Nathaniel, I’d be one of the leaders in foreign relations, if not the head of the international agency. But I’m still a second level diplomat at this bloody Ministry!”

“I know, it’s just plain wrong,” Nathaniel agreed, “They set so much store by what doesn’t matter at all!”

“What are you talking about, Mum?” I asked softly.

“Why don’t you get promoted, Aunt Melinda?” Harry furthered.

Mum sighed, looking over at Dad, who shook his head in sadness.

“In our world,” Mum began, “You know that there are wizards and witches with all sorts of parents – both a wizard father and a witch mother, like all three of you; someone who has a muggle for one parent; and someone who has two muggles for parents, like me, like your own mum Harry.”

We all nodded, fully aware. I was vaguely reminded of Malfoy sneering at Hermione when she said her parents were muggles.

“There’s a certain amount of… prejudice… against people whose parents are muggle-born in our world,” Mum continued, “Lots of people think we are… second rate witches and wizards. And this prejudice is so entrenched that at the Ministry, there is a lot of precedent to hire pure-blood and half-blood witches and wizards over muggle-born ones; as well as some policies and even some laws that make it hard for muggle-borns to be hired and promoted. So I’ve been stuck at the same level in my position for almost six years now because I am muggle-born, and they will always hire even an extraordinarily less qualified pure-blood over me.”

“That’s horrible!” Harry gasped.

“Completely unfair!” I agreed in anger, “Can I go down there? I’ll punch some people for you. Or I’ll unleash Fred and George on a pranking spree and…”

“It’s not going to undo millennia of hatred, honey, but I appreciate the gesture,” Mum smiled weakly.

“Why wouldn’t it be the same in America?” Elena asked thoughtfully.

“Because, back when muggles were colonizing America, most of the witches and wizards who came with them were muggle-borns, to escape the prejudice. So few pure bloods came over, in fact, that almost none of the old prejudice exists over there,” my dad explained, “Do we have prejudices of our own? Of course, and a lot of them are just as horrible. But your mother would not suffer there as she does here.”

“So why haven’t we moved?” Elena asked.

“Because Dumbledore asked us not to, with Harry and all,” Mum sighed.

Harry looked over at me and I shrugged in equal confusion.

“Now, can you kids go and play or read or something? I’m going to try and cook some dinner,” Mum dismissed. I walked with Harry back up to the room to discuss what we had just learned, and Elena returned to her corner to read.

When we walked upstairs, however, we were greeted with nothing more out of place than a house-elf. I looked at him in shock but Harry was even more surprised, not having encountered a creature of its kind before.

“You’re a house-elf,” I commented lightly. The creature nodded vigorously.

“Well, erm… why are you in our room?” I continued in confusion.

“To see Harry Potter, Miss!” the elf explained.

“And why is it you want to see me?” Harry frowned, looking at me as if I were playing some sort of elaborate prank. I shook my head, raising my eyebrows in equal confusion.

“So long Dobby has wanted to meet you, sir… Such an honor it is…” the elf, presumably named Dobby, began.

“Th-Thanks?” Harry responded, moving forward to sit in one of our chairs, “Who exactly are you?”

“Dobby, sir. Just Dobby. Dobby the house-elf,” Dobby repeated.

“What exactly is a house-elf?” Harry looked from me to Dobby for an explanation.

“They serve wizarding families, and there are about a hundred that do all the cooking and cleaning at Hogwarts, which is why I know about them,” I explained.

“Fred and George?” Harry asked simply, like he always did when I alluded to something I had learned under their tutelage. I nodded and he accepted this answer, as he always did.

“Is there any particular reason you’re here? Not that I’m not pleased to meet you,” Harry said to Dobby, turning to face him in the chair. I pulled up a beanbag chair and sat next to Harry.

“Oh, yes, sir,” Dobby nodded, his large ears flapping wildly, “Dobby has come to tell you, sir… it is _difficult_ , sir… dobby wonders where to begin…”

“Why don’t you sit down,” Harry gestured to the chair across from him.

Dobby burst into very loud tears in that instance, sobbing, “ _S-sit down! Never… never ever…”_

Harry looked horrified and I checked the stairs to make sure no one was coming up as he replied, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you or anything…”

“Offend Dobby!” the elf replied, “Dobby has _never_ been asked to sit down by a wizard… like an _equal_!”

Harry helped him sit in the other desk chair as Dobby sighed, waiting patiently for his cries to slow down.

“You haven’t met a lot of decent wizards, then,” I commented offhandedly.

Dobby shook his head in agreement. Then, he leapt up quite randomly and started banging his head against the large window, shouting, “Bad Dobby! _Bad Dobby!_ ”

“Dobby, what _are_ you doing?” I hissed, running forward along with Harry and pulling him back to the chair. Still, no one came upstairs. I suppose by this point they were used to us shouting and playing games extremely loudly up here, and thought nothing much of it.

“Dobby had to punish himself, sir and miss,” the elf explained, “Dobby almost spoke ill of his family, sir… the wizard family Dobby serves, sir…”

“Do they know you’re here?” Harry asked curiously.

“Oh no, sir, no… Dobby will have to punish himself most grievously for coming to see you, sir. Dobby will have to shut his ears in the oven door for this. If they ever knew, sir…”

“Kind of sticks out, though, if you shut your ears in an oven,” I shook my head, moderately disgusted, even more so than I had been down in the kitchens with Fred and George.

“Dobby doubts they’ll notice, miss. Dobby is always having to punish himself for something, miss. They lets Dobby get on with it, miss. Sometimes they reminds me to do extra punishments…”

“Why don’t you leave?” Harry demanded.

“A house-elf must be set free, sir. And the family will never set Dobby free… dobby will serve the family until he dies, sir…”

“Well,” I turned to Harry, “That puts life into perspective.”

“Just a little bit,” Harry nodded.

“Can’t anyone help you? Can’t I?” Harry asked softly. Dobby suddenly began wailing again, once again with gratitude.

“Harry Potter asks if he can help Dobby! Dobby has heard of your greatness, sir, but of your goodness, Dobby never knew…”

“Whatever you’ve heard of my greatness is a load of rubbish. I’m not even top of my year at Hogwarts, that’s Hermione, she… is brilliant,” Harry began rambling, clearly embarrassed, his cheeks flushed bright red.

“Harry Potter is humble and modest. Harry Potter speaks not of his triumph over He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named…” Dobby squeaked.

“Voldemort?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

Dobby squeaked in terror and put his hands over his ears, “Ah, speak not the name, miss! Speak not the name!”

“Sorry,” I muttered.

“Dobby heard tell,” Dobby continued, “That Harry Potter met the Dark Lord for a second time, just weeks ago… that Harry Potter escaped _yet again_.”

Harry nodded.

“Ah, sir,” Dobby gasped in amazement, “Harry Potter is valiant and bold! He has braved so many dangers already! But Dobby has come to protect Harry Potter, to warn him, even if he _does_ have to shut his ears in the oven door later… _Harry Potter must not go back to Hogwarts._ ”

We both looked at him in utter confusion.

“Harry musn’t? And not I?” I looked at him, frowning, “Because get something straight, here, Dobby- my cousin and I are in this together, and if I’m going into a dangerous situation then he’s following, and vice-versa.”

“Then Miss Johnson must also stay here, where she is safe. Harry Potter is too great, too good, to lose. If Harry Potter goes back to Hogwarts, he will be in mortal danger, and then so will you, Miss Johnson.”

“Why?” Harry gasped in surprise.

“There is a plot, harry Potter. A plot to make most terrible things happen at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this year… Dobby has known it for months, sir. Harry Potter must not put himself in peril. He is too important, sir!” Dobby explained.

“What terrible things?” Harry frowned, “Who’s plotting them?”

“And I thought we would have a year at Hogwarts without mysteries,” I commented lightly.

Dobby began to make a choking noise and then started hitting his head again.

“All right!” Harry sighed, “You can’t tell me, I get it. By why are you warning _me?_ Does this have to do with… with You-Know-Who, does it? You can shake or nod.”

Dobby shook his head, “Not… Not _He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named_ , sir…”

Harry looked confused, though Dobby was gesturing as though giving a big hint, “He hasn’t got a brother, has he?”

Dobby shook his head.

“Well then, I can’t think who else would have a chance of making horrible things happen at Hogwarts,” Harry shook his head sadly, “I mean, there’s Dumbledore, for one thing… you know who Dumbledore is, don’t you?”

Dobby nodded, “Dumbledore is indeed a great wizard… but sir, there are powers Dumbledore doesn’t… powers no decent wizard…” and suddenly he was beating himself with a lamp this time.

I ran forward and wrenched the lamp from the elf and glowered at him, “Would you _stop_ hurting yourself? And besides, Harry’s not going to stay home. He has friends at Hogwarts, friends that he misses, and things to learn so he can defeat You-Know-Who again in the future… You want You-Know-Who gone completely, right, Dobby?”

“Indeed, yes, Miss,” Dobby sighed, “But does Harry Potter have friends? Friends that don’t even _write_?”

“They have been, the letters have just been… wait a second,” Harry frowned, “How do _you_ know my friends haven’t been writing to me?”

Dobby shuffled around guiltily, “Harry Potter musn’t be angry with Dobby, Dobby did it for the best…”

“ _Have you been stopping my letters?”_

“Dobby has them here, sir,” the elf sighed, pulling out a thick wad of envelops from the inside of his pillowcase that he was wearing. Harry lunged forward but I was behind the elf as he stepped backwards, managing to grab it from his hands.

“Harry Potter mustn’t be angry… Dobby hoped… if Harry Potter thought his friends had forgotten him… Harry Potter might not go back to school, sir…”

“You had no right to take his letters from him,” I snapped angrily, handing the letters to Harry, “And besides, I was still getting my letters, so your plan was a little flawed. Our friends indicated to me that they didn’t understand why Harry wasn’t writing to them. Thus, you should have thought it through better.”

“Harry Potter must say he’s not going back to school!” Dobby begged.

“No, I have to go,” Harry replied, “It’s my… it’s where my friends are, it’s where I feel at home. I can’t not go back.”

Dobby looked at us sadly and at that moment Mum came upstairs. He turned, looked at my mother in shock, and vanished into thin air with a crack.

Mum looked at us in amazement as we relayed the entire story to her.

“To be honest, kids, house elves are usually only owned by very _privileged_ , and old, and white, wizarding families. And they can’t usually do such a thing that is so outside of their orders… I wouldn’t be surprised if this was a prank, by say, that Malfoy boy,” Mum shook her head, “You have your letters now, Harry. Let’s just forget about it.”

And, for the most part, we did.

On Harry’s birthday, Hermione and Neville both came over to the Nest early in the morning. Hermione’s parents and Neville’s gran also came. Neville’s gran was dressed in very long, green robes, trimmed with some sort of fur; she also wore a very stereotypical witch’s cap that was hiding somewhat white hair pulled back into a tight bun. She had fairly pale skin, a hooked nose, and piercing blue eyes. In fact, she didn’t resemble Neville much at all; her features were bony and skinny, while his were round and soft.

Hermione’s parents, on the other hand, resembled her fiercely. Her mother had extremely curly, bushy hair, much like her daughter; and tanned skin. She had a very round nose, soft brown eyes, and was fairly skinny and petite. Her father was also tanned, with a large nose, darker brown eyes, and neatly combed black hair. My mother was discussing the political situation in the Middle East with them happily, while my father and Neville’s gran discussed potion ingredients.

“Yes, my being Mizrahi meant that I often was grouped with the Muslim residence of our town in various aspects of life,” Hermione’s mother explained.

“We were all treated like second class citizens,” her father furthered, “And we decided to leave because of it. It wasn’t easy, but I had family in London. They run a mosque there.”

“Is it difficult having two different faiths?” my mum continued, “Especially raising a child?”

“Not particularly. We raised Hermione in the Jewish tradition, it wasn’t that hard of a choice,” her mother then continued to discuss the difficulties in changing their names upon arrival in London, and various other difficulties they’ve faced based on race.

“How’s your summer been, Harry? Since you haven’t responded to any of our letters,” Hermione teased as we all ate some birthday pudding, despite it being fairly early in the afternoon. Harry stuck out his tongue at her and Neville burst into giggles.

“Well that’s the weird thing, isn’t it? This elf was stealing all his letters!” I explained.

“A _what_?” Hermione demanded.

“House elf, you mean? Gran says my cousins have one,” Neville commented, “She doesn’t particularly like the practice, much.”

“I don’t blame her, it’s horrible,” I grunted in annoyance.

“What is a house elf?” Hermione asked, annoyed at being out of the loop.

“House elves serve old wizarding families,” Harry explained, “They’re… basically slaves. Anywho, this one was stealing all my letters. He claimed that he didn’t want me to go back to Hogwarts, because it was dangerous or something.”

“That’s barbaric!” Hermione gasped.

“Hogwarts being dangerous… this is… news?” Neville asked in confusion.

“At any rate, Mum thinks it’s a prank,” I stated calmly, “She doesn’t reckon any elf could disobey their masters that much. I think Malfoy is trying to get Harry to not go back to school. Only hole in that theory, though, is why wouldn’t he do the same to me.”

“Well, why wouldn’t he to either of us, for that matter?” Hermione furthered, “Maybe it’s just a directed prank at Harry. Remember how he wanted to be Harry’s friend last year? Maybe he’s trying to distance Harry from us, make him think Neville and I don’t like him anymore.”

“Seems more likely than a random elf trying to save your life,” Neville agreed, “I mean, how would one even know there’d be danger at Hogwarts?”

“Good points guys,” Harry agreed, looking fairly cheered by the idea, “So what have you been up to?”

That afternoon, we all went together to Diagon Alley to purchase our things for the new term. When we reached the Leaky Cauldron, we were greeted with a familiar site – the Weasley family had all arrived as well.

“Melinda! Good to see you!” Mr. Weasley beamed, walking over to her and giving her a hug.

“Good to see you too, Arthur. How has your work been?” and immediately the two of them started chatting insessantly. Molly Weasley beamed at all of us and started conversing with Hermione’s parents. Standing behind her was small girl; pale, with light red hair like the rest of her family cut just under her chin, and brown eyes and frequent freckles.

“Harry, this is Ginny, my younger sister,” Ron introduced. Percy was trying to enter the conversation between my mum and Mr. Weasley. Fred and George turned to me in excitement.

“Want to go exploring?” George asked me happily, “Lot’s of places to see.”

Harry was talking with Ron, neither of them appearing hostile. Hermione and Neville looked at me expectantly and I felt torn. Finally Neville give a small nod and I ran off with the two of them throughout Diagon Alley, exploring various shops and laughing together at some of the stupidity of the other shoppers.

Eventually, we went into Florish and blots to purchase our books for the new term. There was a sign saying “GILDEROY LOCKHART will be signing copies of his autobiography _MAGICAL ME_ today from 12:30 P.M. to 4:30 P.M.” And sure enough, there he was – a tall man, with extremely blonde hair and pale skin, wearing pale blue robes that matched his wizard’s hat. A line lead up to a table where he was sitting and, presumably, signing books.

“So on a scale of one to ten,” George began.

“Ten being I’ve suddenly lost my mind and one being get the hell out of here,” Fred continued.

“How much do we not want to interact with that guy?” I finished, grimacing in disgust.

“I’d say negative fifteen,” George grimaced, “But that might just be me.”

“No, I think we’re all in accord George,” Fred shook his head, “Let’s find our books and get out of here.”

“Uh, gents, that might be a problem,” I lamented, pointing at the fact that all the Lockhart books – of which we required a full set for the upcoming term – were clustered around his booth.

“Alright, which of us can get in and out without being noticed?” George stroked his chin thoughtfully.

“I’m the smallest,” I sighed, “You two are taller than everyone in here. I’ll go.”

“How will you carry three sets, though?” Fred shook his head, “One of us has to do it.”

“Nah, I got this,” I stated calmly, dodging neatly through the growd of gaggling, mostly middle-aged witches, reaching to the side of the table and grabbing books.

“Ah! Little girl! You’ll have to wait in line like everyone else for an autograph!” someone shouted next to me. When I turned, I saw it was Lockhart himself.

“I don’t want your bleedin’ autograph,” I snapped, “I need schoolbooks.”

Lockhart looked affronted, but I was too stressed by the number of people around to care. I balanced two sets of the books neatly, but the third was a challenge; I finally gave up after a minute and wandered through the crowd, reaching the twins after very carefully walking.

“See? Told you you couldn’t get all three,” Fred teased.

“Shush,” I stuck my tongue out at him before running back into the crowd to get a third set, bumping into people a little more this time as I reached the books.

“Security!” Lockhart suddenly shouted. A wizard walked over to him in concern.

“Yes, thank you. Get that _urchin_ away from my table,” Lockhart sneered at me.

“Why you racist –“ I shouted as the wizard started to grab me to drag me away.

“Hey! That’s my sister!” a very welcome voice suddenly shouted. Harry shoved through the crowd and looked at the wizard as intimidatingly as he could.

The crowd started mumbling about Harry, given that he was a famous figure and all. The wizard let go of me and I glared at him angrily, standing next to Harry.

“ _Harry Potter!_ ” Lockhart gasped, his expression changed from disdain to one of eagerness. He grabbed Harry from my side and forced him to pose for a picture with him as I angrily walked back to the twins, where the rest of the gang was waiting.

“Did he call you an urchin? Did I hear that right?” my dad asked angrily.

“Well given her… _appearance_ , I am not surprised,” a voice sneered behind us. We whirled around to see a very tall, very pale man, with long flowing, almost white blonde hair He had a hooked nose, and dark eyes, and was wearing expensive looking black robes. Standing next to him, smirking with amusement, was Draco Malfoy.

“Lucius,” my father said angrily, his teeth gritted in annoyance.

“Nathaniel,” Lucius smiled thinly, “Good to see you out and about. Must be… nice… after all these years.”

“Would be nicer if the company was better,” my dad said bitterly. He didn’t even try to sugar coat it. I looked at Neville and Hermione in shock, their expressions mirroring mine.

“Now, you’re not still _bitter_ about that, are you?” Lucius snorted, “The charges were cleared! Your testimony wouldn’t have changd much.”

“Mark my words, Malfoy,” my father stepped up closer to him, glaring angrily, “If I hadn’t been in the States when you were on trial, you would be behind bars where you belong.”

“Don’t get that close to me,” Lucius Malfoy sneered, stepping back and making a show of wiping off his robes, “These are new robes. Don’t want to get them dirty.”

My father opened his mouth in fury when Mr. Weasley walked up to him, glaring at Mafloy in equal measure.

“This is a peaceful bookshop, Mafloy. I suggest you leave,” Mr. Weasley snapped.

“Surprised that you’re here and not at the Ministry, Arthur,” Lucius Malfoy sneered, “I hear it’s been busy. I hope you’re getting overtime pay.”

Lucius turned from my father and pulled up a book from Ginny Weasley’s cauldron – a probably third-hand copy of _Beginner’s Guide to Transfiguration_. Ginny turned beet red and hid her face behind her hair.

“Obviously not,” Malfoy chortled, “What’s the use of being a disgrace to the name of wizard if they don’t even pay you well for it?”

Mr. Weasley was now also beet red. My dad’s fists were balled tight as he glared furiously.

“We have a very different idea of what disgraces the name of wizard, Malfoy,” Mr. Weasley responded.

“Clearly,” Malfoy looked to the Grangers, Neville’s Gran, and my parents, “The company you keep, Weasley… and I thought your family could sink no lower…”

My father and Mr. Weasley both lunged at Malfoy in anger. My mother said nothing but Mrs. Weasley shouted in protest. Neville’s Gran looked absolutely affronted while the Grangers looked embarrassed, backing into a corner of the bookshop as the three fought each other. The crowd was jeering in amazement, the Weasley twins were cheering our fathers on, and I was shouting for my dad to hit him where it hurts.

“Break it up, break it up!” a gritty, low voice shouted. I looked up to see Hagrid walking towards the three men, pulling them apart from each other easily. Mr. Weasley had a bruise on his eye, my dad had a cut lip, and Malfoy looked like his head had been bludgeoned to the point of concussion. He was hodling Ginny’s book, and thrust it at her angrily.

“Here, take it, it’s the best your father can give you,” he snapped, grabbing Draco and leaving the shop in a huff.

“Yeh should’ve ignored him, Arthur,” Hagrid snorted, “You too, Nathaniel. Rotten t’ the core, the lot o’ those Malfoys. No Malfoy is worth a grain o’ salt.”

“You shouldn’t fight like that in public,” my mum shook her head, “Think of the example it sets.”

“That _man_ ,” my father growled, walking up to my mother in anger, “Put the _Imperius Curse_ on me during the war. And where was I during his trial? _In fucking America_ , where I couldn’t lock him up! Between his money and connections, he’s going to walk free for the rest of his life, when he was one of the people in _Voldemort’s inner circle_!”

The Weasleys, Hagrid, and the Longbottoms all gasped, as did Hermione. Harry, Elena and I shrugged, while my mother sighed in sadness. Hermione’s parents just looked confused.

“We’re causing a scene,” Mrs. Weasley hissed, clearly furious over the whole proceedings, “Let’s go outside. _Now._ ”

We were a subdued group as we walked back into the street. The Weasleys and Hagrid eventually made excuses and left quickly, Hagrid promising to write to Harry more now that Harry was receiving his letters again.

“Sorry about that, Harry,” my dad sighed, “I hope I haven’t ruined your birthday.”

“No, no you haven’t Uncle Nathaniel!” Harry urged, “Right, guys?”

Hermione, Neville and I all nodded eagerly, though I was filled with questions. We all walked together back into London, where we found a restaurant and spent the rest of the evening cheerfully chatting with one another.

That evening, I begged my mother to explain what happened between my dad and Lucius Malfoy, but she refused to explain, claiming I was “too young” to understand. This statement also displeased Harry, though Elena seemed disinterested.

And thus the rest of the summer was fairly quiet, though none of the summer’s mysteries were solved. And on September first we eagerly went to King’s Cross station with our parents, running slightly late as we got onto the space between platforms nine and ten.

“Alright, you two go first just in case we don’t have time to catch up,” Mum ordered, “Go at a bit of a run, as always, and…”

“We know, mum,” I sighed, “We’d be _fine_ if Elena hadn’t…”

Elena glowered at me and I chose to drop the subject, heading towards the barrier with Harry. However, once we finally reached it – _CRASH! –_ we were knocked back from it as though it were the wall it was supposed to be.

Mum and Dad rushed forward, though Elena hung back. They helped the two of us up and dusted us off.

“What was that?” Mum frowned, patting her hand on the wall and continuing to frown as it remained solid.

“Someone must have closed the barrier,” Dad sighed, “Look.”

The clock chimed eleven and the train had left without us.

“We’re going to have to bring you to Hogwarts ourselves,” Mum groaned, “I’ll have to tell Albus about this.”

The lizard that also went by this name was hissing at us loudly in irritation, causing the stares of many a muggle passer-by.

Mum rushed us away from the platform and back out onto the street. We continued on, going towards Diagon Alley, to the Leaky Cauldron where we used Floo Powder to get here in the first place. First Mum cast a weird silvery spell, which looked sort of like an orca; she then used floo powder to contact someone important, managing to connect with Hogwarts after a lot of yelling into it with just her head, and we finally reached the castle, the first ones there.

Mum went upstairs to talk to Professor Dumbledore about the entire proceedings as I turned to face Harry, bringing our trunks and other things up to the Gryffindor Common Room.

“I wonder what all that was about?” I asked him in confusion. He simply shook his head sadly.

“I wish we were on the train, it’s much more fun there,” Harry sighed.

“I know,” I agreed as we reached the portrait, before realizing we had no idea what the password was. The Fat Lady stared at us expectantly.

“Well crap,” I sighed.

“I would say I am astonished at your language, Miss Johnson, but unfortunately nothing much that you do surprises me anymore,” I heard a familiar voice call out behind us. We whirled around to see Professor McGonagall walk up to us.

“Welcome back, you two… we still have most of the day before the feast,” she paused, “I hope you’re ready to continue your remarkable studies in Transfiguration, Miss Johnson?”

“Oh yes, Professor,” I nodded eagerly.

“And I trust that you are ready to give your studies your best effort as well, Mr. Potter?” she continued.

“Definitely,” Harry agreed cheerfully.

“Good, good. I hope you won’t be snooping around as much as last year, but I feel like hoping for that is like hoping for the Chudley Cannons to win the league,” Professor McGonagall paused, “The password is wattlebird, since I know you’re waiting for me to tell you this.”

The portrait door opened and we both beamed at our professor, who simply shook her head and left back down the stairs. The Common Room was strange so empty – there was no one around and the fires hadn’t been lit yet. We both ran up are respective stairs, finding that my dormitory had had its sign replaced from FIRST YEARS to SECOND YEARS, and pushed the door open to drop off my stuff on my bed.

 _Well,_ I thought in amazement, _This year has started out quite interestingly indeed._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On to Chamber of Secrets! Hope you guys enjoy, PLEASE let me know what you think! Thanks!


	11. Chapter Ten: September 1 - October 31, 1992, Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Help I'm alive
> 
> My heart keeps beating like a hammer
> 
> Hard to be soft
> 
> Tough to be tender
> 
> Come take my pulse the pace is on a runaway train
> 
> Help I'm alive
> 
> My heart keeps beating like a hammer
> 
> Beating like a hammer."
> 
> ~ Metric, "Help I'm Alive"

Chapter Ten: September 1– October 31, 1992, Hogwarts

I still to this day consider it a matter of skill that Harry and I managed to get into the Great Hall by blending in with the crowd of incoming students in the Entrance Hall. The two of us walked casually alongside some third year Hufflepuffs who didn’t even notice us as we came up to the Gryffindor table and sat down.

“Harry! Maggie!” I heard a very familiar voice call out as a giant head of bushy brown hair came to sit down across from us. She literally ran, and the excitement she exuded as she sat there was palpable.

“Hey Hermione,” Harry and I both laughed in unison.

“Where _were_ you guys? Neville and I looked all over for you. Fred and George even came by to ask for you, Maggie,” Hermione continued breathlessly.

“That’s a funny story…” I began just as Neville sat down next to Hermione and beamed at us all.

“Where were you two? We looked all over for you on the train and…” Neville began just as the entire Weasley clan came up behind him.

“Harry, I wanted to catch you on the train but I couldn’t seem to find you…” Ron interjected.

“Maggie! We have some prank ideas we wanted you to help us with on the train, but we couldn’t find you. It was sad. Lee doesn’t have the same mind as you,” Fred leapt down to sit next to Hermione, across from me.

“And I wanted to talk to you about what we were going to do this weekend for our official opening of the year prank, I was thinking…” George interrupted, sitting next to me and looking down at me eagerly.

“Guys! I can’t breathe!” I laughed.

“Seriously,” Harry shook his head, “Just give us a moment here.”

“So where _were_ you?” Hermione asked again, looking disgruntled at all the interruptions.

“Well, we got to the platform rather late,” Harry began, “Because Elena was whining about not wanting to come. And we were all ready to go through the barrier, but for some reason it had closed.”

“We really have no idea why. So our parents made a lot of urgent Floo calls and my mum sent some sort of silvery thing that looked like an orca, actually, telling it to say we were stranded,” I frowned.

“Eventually the floo network opened so we could get to school through it from the Leaky Cauldron, and Aunt Melinda went to go talk to Professor Dumbledore while we got ready and brought our stuff up to the Dormitories,” Harry continued.

“And then we spent the rest of the day just exploring the castle,” I finished.

“Well, you must be hungry then,” Ron commented.

“Starving,” I laughed.

We all shuffled as we watched the first years walk in, looking terrified. Ron leaned over to talk to Harry, whispering (though we could all hear him,) “Ginny’s there, let’s hope for Gryffindor.”

“Just a warning, Harry,” Fred continued.

“It’s a bit embarrassing, really,” George nodded.

“She barely talked to you in Diagon Alley so you didn’t notice,” Ron whispered, catching on.

“But she sort of hero-worships you,” Fred rolled his eyes.

“She’s basically in love with you, mate. Sorry about that,” George sighed.

Harry’s cheeks flushed and he shrugged, “It’s OK, she’s just a kid.”

“You’re barely older than her,” Fred chuckled, “But alright.”

The Sorting Hat sang at the top of his lungs about the different house qualities. I was instantly bored, and spent most of the song playing thumb wars under the table with George. The list of students was long and boring, too, and I simply twirled my fork on the plate lazily after having lost to George three times. Hermione was still watching dutifully, while Fred and George started playing thumb wars instead. Ron was talking with Dean and Seamus, Neville was watching the sorting but appearing like he was falling asleep, and Harry was attempting to balanace utensils on his head.

Eventually we got to Weasley, Ginevra. She looked nervous as she sat down on the stool and the hat went all the way over her head. It didn’t take very long, however, for it to shout “GRYFFINDOR!” Much shorter than me, even.

The girl ran down and sat on the opposite side of Harry, next to Ron, pretty far away from my cousin actually. She was flushed bright red and stared down at her plate as her brothers all patted her on the back.

 Dumbledore soon declared the feast to begin and I piled immense amounts of food on my plate, joyous to be feeding myself at last as Harry did a similar thing.

“Thanks for writing this summer, you two,” Hermione began as we were eating, “Even you, Harry.”

I laughed loudly, “Once his letters weren’t being held by a crackpot elf.”

“I can’t believe that these elves are basically slaves, though,” Hermione frowned, “It’s horrible.”

“Hermione,” Fred shook his head, “They’re _happy_ about it.”

Hermione glared at him and turned back to Harry. Her eyebrows rose up into her bushy hairline, “Harry, why on Earth are you blushing?”

“Nothing,” Harry shook his head and looked down at his plate, shoveling some food in his mouth to excuse him from answering further. I looked at him with my eyebrows raised as he chewed, swallowed, and drank some pumpkin juice. When he finally looked up and at me, he shook his head. He was now properly pale again.

“How long have you been looking at me like that?” he laughed.

“Since you ignored Hermione and started trying to choke yourself,” I held my gaze still as I said this. Harry glared back at me for a while, trying to intimidate me into looking away, but I wouldn’t bow. He finally groaned and looked away in defeat, eating some more food. When he looked up I was still looking at him like that.

“Would you just _stop?!”_ he shouted in annoyance. Fred and George started sniggering and I smirked a little. Hermione just shook her head in silent amusement.

“No,” I answered simply. Harry raised his arms above his head and turned back to his food. Eventually I got bored and turned back to chat with George next to me.

“So, we’re going into the forest soon?” I asked cheerfully. He nodded eagerly, “You’ll love it. And I swear I saw a Hebridean Black in there the other day.”

“Honestly, you know just what to say,” I shook my head, “Of course I’m in.”

“Georgie, you’ve got to stop drawing her into things with dragons. It’s practically unfair, the hold you have over her,” Fred laughed. George stuck out his tongue at him.

“Are you sure you’ll be safe?” Neville asked timidly. I beamed at him.

“Of course we won’t be, but that’s half the fun!” I insisted. Neville rolled his eyes in amusement.

Dumbledore came up then to announce the end of the feast and, as always, the school rules. George, Fred and I mouthed at each other the words of the rules in as mocking a way as we could manage. Hermione just shook her head again and Fred elbowed her in the side cheerfully. We all finally started making our way to the Common Room, excited for the beginning of the new term.

The next day, my thirteenth birthday, I cheerfully skipped down for breakfast, eager for the morning post. Darwin came down with a parcel, as expected, and Harry came over cheerfully handing me another one.

“Aww, thanks Harry, you didn’t have to get me anything,” I laughed.

“With the money my parents left me? I should have gotten you something last year,” Harry shook his head, “Just open it.”

My parents had sent me a pair of Omnioculars, similar to binoculars except they allowed me to rewatch, pause, and slow down the things I see. Though they were usually used in Quidditch matches, I fully planned to use them on my forest adventures instead. Harry had given me a book on all the different types of British dragons, both alive and extinct, which made me beam at him.

Neville and Hermione walked down then and smiled at us.

“Here, Happy Birthday Maggie,” Hermione smiled, handing me another present. I laughed and hugged her as I opened it, finding inside another book on transfiguration.

“I have something for you too, Maggie,” Neville interjected softly. I beamed at him happily. Neville smiled in response and reached into his robes just as Fred and George came running up behind me.

“Hello Maggie!” Fred declared cheerfully.

“Happiest of birthdays to you!” George continued.

“Though you may have to start your teenage years with dull classes and endless syllabi, we hope to make your day more awesome to make up for it,” Fred finished.

“It shall be the day of endless pranking, endless adventures, and to top it off, our maiden voyage to the great Forbidden Forest,” George explained.

“To begin with, here are our gifts to you – they may be small, but we shall make up for it with the rest of the day’s awesomeness,” Fred handed two small parcels to me that I opened immediately, rolling my eyes in amusement. One was a kit to help me dye my enemy’s hair the worst possible color for them without their notice, and another was a box of miniature lifelike dragons that I could sic on anyone I chose.

“Thanks you guys,” I laughed, “You didn’t have to do this.”

“Well, the dragons didn’t cost any money to be honest,” Fred shrugged, “Charlie got them for us, and the training them to sic an enemy bit we worked on ourselves.”

“The kit wasn’t that bad either. We couldn’t afford the version that dyed the hair permanently… this stuff wears off in about a month,” George sighed.

“It’s OK,” I laughed, “It’ll be hilarious for a month, then.”

George beamed in response, “Picture Malfoy with pink hair.”

“He’s got too pink of a skin tone, though,” I commented thoughtfully, “It’ll probably turn puke green.”

“Even more excellent!” Fred and George said in unison.

“Well, we have to go prepare the first of the day’s festivities,” Fred explained as he and George got up from the table.

“Ta!” George waved and they walked out of the Great Hall. I simply rolled my eyes and turned back to Neville.

“Sorry about them,” I laughed, “Really.”

“It’s OK,” he replied softly with a smile, “Here, for you.”

I took the small present from his hands and opened it to reveal a small box of puffapod seeds, which were exceedingly expensive.

“Wow Neville,” I gasped, “Thank you so much! I can’t wait to grow them. I love watching the pods drop and become flowers.”

“I know you do,” Neville smiled wider, “I’m glad you like them.”

“The moment I get home I’ll grow them, seriously,” I laughed, “I want these outside the Nest.”

Neville nodded with an even wider smile and turned to his breakfast toast. As Harry and I got up to start walking to class, Harry looked fairly thoughtful.

“Neville has a terrible memory. How’d he remember you liked puffapods the best out of everything last year?” Harry asked curiously.

“Dunno, he and I have always been Herbology partners, I expect he remembered from that,” I responded.

We headed off to the greenhouses, where we were greeted outside with a giant overgrown wall of ivy blocking them off from the rest of the school. The flowers of the ivy plant twisted into the words _HAPPY BIRTHDAY!_ I turned to Harry and shook my head with laughter. Professor Sprout on the other side was fighting to break through the ivy to allow the growing crowd of students through. Neville looked at the wall of ivy while shaking his head, and Hermione simply covered her face with her hands.

Suddenly, the obnoxiously attractive teacher, Professor Lockhart, came over.

“No need to fear, Professor Sprout!” he shouted, “I can help you with that. It’s a simple little spell…”

“There’s nothing to help with except hand me a larger knife, Professor Lockhart, go back to your classes,” Professor Sprout grunted as she hacked away with a knife.

“Nonsense!” Lockhart beamed, pulling out his wand and waving it, shouting, “ _Valenius Ivironicus!_ ”

If anything, the ivy grew thicker. Hermione frowned, Harry raised his eyebrows, Neville shuffled his feet and I hid my laughter behind my hand.

“Just go,” Professor Sprout ordered. Professor Lockhart waved cheerfully and walked away from the Greenhouses. Neville walked up and cast, quite confidently, “Incendio!” I smiled widely with pride.

The fire burned away most of the ivy and Professor Sprout managed to clear up the flames once it had done its job. She nodded at Neville, smiling, and turned to the class, “Greenhouse three today, chaps!”

Greenhouse three was known for housing much more dangerous plants than any of us had worked with before. Harry and I looked at each other eagerly and followed quickly, me standing next to Neville and with Harry on the other side, Hermione next to him.

Professor Sprout took to the head of the class and began, “We’ll be repotting Mandrakes toady. Now, who can tell me the properties of the Mandrake?”

Hermione’s hand shot straight into the air, though Neville and I had both followed slowly after her. Harry just shook his head in amusement as Sprout called on Hermione.

“Mandrake, or Mandragora, is a powerful restorative. It is used to return people who have been transfigured or cursed to their original state,” Hermione stated.

“Excellent. Ten points to Gryffindor,” Professor Sprout responded, “The Mandrake forms an essential part of most antidotes. It is also, however, dangerous. Who can tell me why?’

All three of us raised our hands again. Professor Sprout looked at us, and decided to let someone other than Hermione respond.

“The Mandrake’s scream will kill you if you hear it,” Neville answered timidly.

“Good, ten more points to Gryffindor,” Professor Sprout smiled, “Now, the Mandrakes we have here are still very young.”

She pointed to the rows of trays in front of us, where the purple mandrakes were growing in the dirt.

“Everyone take a pair of earmuffs,” Professor Sprout ordered. We all reached around to grab ones that weren’t of a pink and fluffy nature. I managed to grab a dark blue pair, and Harry a bright red one. Neville put his unfortunately pink and fluffy ones on, though I could see the left one was loose.

“Neville, here,” I sighed, reaching over to his head and fixing the left one on better, “It was loose.”

“Oh,” Neville flushed, “Thanks.”

“No problem,” I laughed.

Professor Sprout began demonstrating by pulling out a mandrake baby and repotting it. Harry looked completely shocked and I sniggered at him, though no one heard the laugh. We all then removed our earmuffs so she could continue to explain.

“As our Mandrakes are only seedlings, their cries won’t kill yet. However, they _will_ knock you out for several hours, and as I’m sure none of you want to miss your first day back, make sure your earmuffs are securely in place while you work. I will attract your attention when it is time to pack up. Four to a tray – there is a large supply of pots here – compost in the sacks over there – and be careful of the Venemous Tentacula, it’s teething,” she explained.

Neville, Harry, Hermione and I automatically teamed up and began to repot endless amounts of mandrakes. It wasn’t easy, as the little devils kept squirming around and flailing, and by the end of the class I was exhausted.

Transfiguration was, of course, fantastic, though Harry and Neville seemed to have lost their hard-earned progress over the summer. My beetle turned into a nice, blue button (I got extra marks for it being a different color than the original beetle, and Hermione got the same score for having a little swirly pattern on the button’s surface.) Neville accidentally smashed his beetle and Harry kept trying to catch it before it ran off the desk.

That afternoon we had Defense Against the Dark Arts, which I was not really looking forward to. Lockhart was quickly looking like a complete joke, though Hermione seemed rather enamored with him, as I could see from her excitement for his lesson.

As we sat at the lunch table, a very tiny mousy-haired boy came running up to us. He was holding a camera and blushing furiously as Harry looked up at him.

“All right, Harry? I’m… I’m Colin Creevey,” he whispered breathlessly, “I’m in Gryffindor, too. D’you think… would it be all right if… can I have a picture?” he raised the camera.

“A… picture?” Harry frowned.

“So I can prove I’ve met you. I know all about you! Everyone’s told me, about how you survived when You-Know-Who tried to kill you and how he disappeared and how…” Collin began rambling.

“Um, yeah, he knows,” I interjected calmly.

“Well, could you take a picture of us? I know about you, too, how you’re Harry’s cousin and you grew up together and…” Collin rambled again and I knew I had to stop him once more.

“Yeah, I’ll do it,” I frowned, “Get ready, Harry.”

Harry grimaced at me but stood with Collin calmly, smiling in the picture as I handed the camera back to the boy.

“Alright, now we’re going to go to class, alright?” I asked the kid calmly. He nodded and scampered off as we walked into the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.

Inside the classroom, there were quite a few fireworks zooming around the room, many of them spelling the words _Happy Birthday!_ Harry turned to me again in amusement and I just shook my head. They were very distracting as I put my set of Lockhart books out on my desk, popping and zapping around. But the Professor didn’t seem to want to do anything about them. To be honest, I didn’t think he could.

“Me,” Professor Lockhart began, “Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Dark Force Defense League, and five-time winner of _Witch Weekly’s_ Most-Charming-Smile Award – but I don’t talk about that. I didn’t get rid of the Bandon Banshee by _smiling_ at her!”

I raised my eyebrows and looked at Harry, who just shook his head in equal amusement.

“I see you’ve all bought a complete set of my books – well done. I thought we’d start today with a little quiz. Nothing to worry about – just to check how well you’ve read them, how much you’ve taken in…” he handed out test papers to everyone and continued, “You have thirty minutes – start – _now!_ ”

I looked down at the test paper and saw that the first three questions were Lockhart’s favorite color, secret ambition, and his greatest achievement. I looked up with narrowed eyes and raised my arm into the air.

“Erm, yes, ah…” Professor Lockhart looked at me, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment as he recognized me from the shop.

“Johnson,” I responded calmly.

“Yes, Miss Johnson,” Professor Lockhart beamed, far too widely, trying to gain back points after the incident. I’m sure he was remembering how large my father was, and how easily he could probably beat Lockhart into a pulp.

“This exam is complete bullshit,” I stated in a very even voice. The entire class looked up at me in shock, Hermione started shaking her head like a mad woman and Harry’s eyes widened.

“Well, I _am_ aware I didn’t ask you about my house in Hogwarts and what my secret is behind the evenness off my teeth, however…” Professor Lockhart was frowning.

“No, that would have made it worse,” I responded, “This is _Defense Against the Dark Arts_ class. If you’re going to give us a pop quiz on the books that we didn’t have to read before coming, by the way, you should be asking us about things pertinent to the class. You know, like how to defeat that banshee or the werewolf or anything else, not about your _birthday_.”

Professor Lockhart’s eyebrows went up and he opened his mouth to respond before I cut him off.

“And to be completely frank with you, are you sure you can even teach this class? Let’s pretend your books don’t exist and no one knows that you defeated all those dark creatures. These fireworks have been zooming around in here since the moment we entered and you haven’t done a damn thing to get rid of them,” I pointed above my head, “Nor did you know how to get rid of the ivy outside of the greenhouses.”

“Charms are not part of my subject matter…”

“You know what I think? I think you are a remarkably self-centered man who wouldn’t know what end of the wand to _point_ at a ghoul,” I scowled, “Harry’s more famous than you and more adept at defensive magic and he’s a _second year_.”

Professor Lockhart was actually starting to look mad now.

“I mean, everyone in the world knows Harry’s name, and what he’s famous for is actually verifiable fact. Did anyone _actually see_ you get rid of those vampires? Everyone _knows_ Harry got rid of Voldemort. And Harry’s not wandering around the castle like he owns the place or demanding everyone treat him like the best thing since sliced bread, or that they know all the little unimportant things about him,” I pointed at him, “He is famous _and_ pretty damn humble, which you don’t seem to truly understand.”

“Listen here, Miss Johnson…” Professor Lockhart was fuming a little now.

“He agrees with me, too,” I snapped, sitting back down, “Go on, Harry.”

Harry looked at me furiously before responding cautiously, “Well, these questions don’t really seem to have to deal with Defense…”

“That’s enough,” Lockhart snapped, “I will conduct my class in the manner in which I decide. Twenty points from Gryffindor, Miss Johnson, and detentions for both you and Mr. Potter. Now, get back to your quiz.”

Harry glared at me in fury as I shrugged and wrote down snarky answers to each and every question on the test. And then, when we finally got to the actual lesson, Lockhart did nothing to help put the pixies back in their cages – it was all me, Harry and Hermione, with Neville trying to help and getting hung on a beam in the ceiling.

As we left the classroom Hermione and Harry both turned to me in anger. Neville, sensing a blowup, quickly scurried off, muttering “My robes are all ruined I need to go and mend them, see you later.”

“You talked back to a teacher! You blatantly called him out in class and…” Hermione fumed.

“He’s a complete blowhard!” I shouted in response, “He hasn’t really done anything! I don’t believe a _word_ of what’s in his books.”

“I can’t believe you got me into trouble,” Harry was shaking his head, “Why’d you have to drag me into that?”

“He wasn’t mad enough yet,” I stated simply. Harry threw his arms into the air and walked ahead of me at a quicker pace. Hermione followed behind him hurriedly and I walked along alone until Fred and George showed up once again.

“Hello Maggie! Brilliant show, with Lockhart and all,” Fred cheered.

“We’ve heard about it, it’s all over the school,” George beamed.

“We had him this morning and we both really wanted to say similar things, of course,” Fred paused.

“But we’re glad we didn’t, because your story is much more spectacular,” George laughed.

“Now, it’s time for the forest. We’ll go get some dinner sustenance from the kitchens and make our way down there,” Fred explained.

“I was thinking we’d make a picnic of it,” George suggested, “I know this one relatively danger-free spot and…”

“Righteo, George!” Fred exclaimed, “What do you reckon, Maggie?’

“I’m a fan,” I laughed. We all headed down to the kitchens and out to the Forbidden Forest, which I had never even approached before. The trees were taller than any trees I had ever seen before, and everything was dark and foreboding. It was fantastic.

We found a clearing and Fred laid out a blanket as George and I sat down, George pulling food out of a bag and setting it out carefully. I grabbed a sandwich and some pumpkin juice eagerly, happily listening to the sounds of the forest around me – the calls of the birds, the chirps of the insects, and even the growls of things I assumed to be much more sinister, but were not approaching us.

“So how long until you think Harry and Hermione aren’t mad at you anymore?” Fred asked teasingly. I hit him in annoyance with my palm as George chortled next to me.

“I dunno, not for a while. Getting Harry in detention is pretty bad, and Hermione hates insubordinance with teachers,” I shrugged.

“The guy had it comin’,” Geoge said through a mouthful of food, “I mean his books are bullshit.”

“Our mum _fancies_ him, it’s so embarrassing,” Fred shuddered.

“Middle aged women tend to be crazy,” I shrugged, “’Specially about handsome blokes.”

“It’ll be freaking hilarious when you’re like that,” George chortled.

“I will _never_ be like that,” I snorted.

“A middle aged woman? Do you have plans to change your gender in the next few years?” Fred joked.

“Not at the moment,” though I pulled my baggy sweatshirt further over my breasts to hide them, “More like, I don’t think it’s likely I’ll live that long.”

A saddened silence hung over the three of us.

“A survivor like you? Come on, Maggie,” Fred chuckled nervously.

“Look at the facts, Fred,” I shrugged, “Harry’s my adopted brother. Lord Voldypants has it in for Harry. I’d rather die myself than see Harry die. Ergo, I’m likely to die.”

“You’re also bloody brilliant, brave, and strong,” George countered, “As is Harry. And Hermione. And frankly, after that shit you pulled in the third corridor last year, I’d even agree Neville is.”

“Plus, what makes you think George and I wouldn’t help fight You-Know-Who? Our whole family would join in. As would yours. Seriously, it’s not you and Harry fighting alone against the legions of darkness,” Fred shook his head.

I frowned, staring at them both, unable to argue with this point.

“We’re not saying your chances of an early death aren’t higher than the average person your age,” Fred continued, “Just that you’re not _guaranteed_ to die.”

I shrugged, unwilling to argue further.

“Well on that cheerful note,” George said, “Maggie, we should really prank that prat Malfoy soon.”

“Definitely!” I agreed eagerly, and immediately we launched into prank planning, bantering back and forth about the various benefits of dying Mafloy’s hair, the proper timing, and how to do so in secret. Eventually, we finished our dinner and packed up, heading out to hike deeper into the forest. We didn’t speak much, for fear of drawing attention to ourselves.

“We’ve never been this far in before,” Fred murmured softly as we continued walking.

“We could be outside of the official grounds of Hogwarts at this point,” George agreed.

There was a loud sound and the three of us spun on our heels. A giant shadow moved past us, though none of us could see what made it. I felt my eyes widen and I stepped back in shock as whatever it was kept moving right past us.

“What the hell was that?” I hissed, “It wedsas as large as… as… as a three story building or something.”

“It looked right huge, you’re right,” George agreed.

“Let’s… start heading back,” Fred decided and we began walking through the forest in the opposite direction as before. It was completely pitch black at this point, and we all raised our wands with _Lumos_ and tried to find our way through the brambles and trees.

Another shadow crossed our path and we stepped back in terror. A giant, man-sized spider came crawling out of the undergrowth, about half a mile away from us.

I let out a loud scream and fell back, tripping over a log. My leg bent out at an odd angle and I knew I broke or twisted something. The pain was horrifying.

“Shit!” Fred shouted, “We’ve got to _run_.”

“She _can’t_ , look at her leg!” George responded. The spider was coming towards us and he instantly bent down and picked me up, to my complete shock.

“GO!” He roared at Fred as I braced myself, wrapping my arms around his neck. The two took off, George lagging slightly, as I started sending curses over his shoulder at the spider as it followed us. We continued on through the forest, bobbing and weaving through the trees as Fred helped George through obstacles, and after a while I finally felt we had lost the monstrous creature.

“Alright,” Fred panted as we came to a stop, “We’ve got to find our way out of here.”

“We keep going in this direction,” George nodded, “Since we just kind of made a loop around the thing and still went back towards the castle.”

“Alright, do you want me to carry her now?” Fred offered calmly.

“No, it’s fine,” George grunted.

“George, don’t be a prat,” I snapped.

“We’ll waste time trying to switch and we need to get the hell out of here,” he responded in equal anger. I sighed and nodded and we continued to walk through the forest, going at a slower pace until we finally managed to come out onto the grounds.

“Alright, let’s get you to the Hospital Wing,” George sighed. We went up to the castle and through the Entrance Hall, where we ran into Harry and Hermione.

“What happened?” Harry asked, his eyes wide.

“Something’s broken or sprained or twisted, I don’t even know,” I sighed.

“How’d you manage that?” Hermione continued.

“Probably doing something stupid with Fred and George,” Harry scowled. I looked at him in shock and I realized we were in a serious fight now.

I shook my head and George continued to carry me up to the Hospital Wing, not even pausing at the exchange. Fred looked moderately concerned but I closed my eyes sadly.

I had managed to break my leg, which Madam Pomfrey managed to heal up in no time; however I had also twisted my ankle, which had to heal on its own. So I spent the next few weeks on crutches wandering through the castle very slowly, and only talking to Fred, George and Neville, who wasn’t mad at me like Hermione and Harry were. Once it finally healed up, I continued pranking with Fred and George, but none of us wanted to go back into the Forest again so soon. When I wasn’t pranking with them, I would study or go to the greenhouses with Neville. Hermione and Harry barely talked to me, though they would still interact with Neville when I wasn’t around, evidently.

The problem with being friends with only those three people was, of course, the fact that all Neville wanted to do was go to the greenhouses, and all Fred and George wanted to do was prank or play Quidditch. Hermione was the person I went to when I wanted to read, Harry when I wanted to solve mysteries or just goof around. And those two important activities in my life were kind of boring alone, now. I mean I could finally read books on dragons and other magical archosaurs without Hermione glaring at me suspiciously, but that was a hollow victory when all things were concerned.

The first Saturday of the term I spent with Neville out on the grounds, my crutches next to me as we played exploding snap in the grass. Fred and George were at Quidditch practice and I admit was nice to have my ankle rested up as I sat more still than I had all week.

It was getting close to lunch time as we sat out there, and I was thinking about how much I wanted a sandwich as Fred and George walked up to us, both still in their Quidditch uniforms and looking rightly pissed off. Neville had just had the cards blow up in his face, and I was hurriedly clearing it with my wand as they sat down next to us.

“You won’t _believe_ what just happened,” Fred growled.

“What?” Neville and I asked in unison.

“Malfoy is the new Slytherin seeker, and the team came out to use the pitch when we were already _on_ it,” George sighed.

“And had been since right fowl early in the morning, too,” Fred snapped.

“And Hermione came down to see what was going on as we were all arguing out there,” George continued.

“And Malfoy called her a _mudlbood!_ Can you bloody _believe_ it!” Fred roared. Neville gasped in horror and his fists clenched angrily.

“Um… what’s a mudblood?” I asked, embarrassed.

“It’s a horrific term for someone who has muggles for parents. It’s supposed to mean she’s got dirty blood,” George scowled, “Like anyone has filthier blood than that Malfoy. You forget he also sneered at her for being Arabic.”

“I punched him, and kicked him in the nuts. How _dare_ he call her that! He’s a horrible, right fowl git and I want to _kill_ him! Racist _son_ of a _bitch!_ ” Fred roared.

“Madam Hooch had to give the both of them detention,” George sighed, “For fighting. Though she took points away from Slytherin for his language, thank Merlin. Harry and Hermione went off to Hagrid’s hut so she could calm down.”

“I’ll dye his hair this time tomorrow,” I stated calmly.

“Good,” Fred growled, “And he’ll be getting worse from me, mark my words.”

“Alright, Freddie, just calm down,” George closed his eyes, “There’s no use shouting about it now.”

Fred sighed in response and nodded, “Let’s go get some lunch. Neville, help me get Maggie off the ground.”

I stuck my tongue out at him as we walked (well, hobbled) up to the castle.

My detention from Lockhart was luckily not _with_ Lockhart, and whoever had planned that was a genius (as I would have probably killed him before the end of the day). I was stuck polishing the trophies in the trophy room, without magic. I found every trophy fascinating, reading each one as I cleaned it, which sadly slowed the process some. I also was quite clumsy due to my crutches, consistently knocking over things that I had just cleaned. One particular artifefact was a large troph that I knocked into my cleaning solution, causing it to gain streaks that I had to scrub off with steel wool. It was to some bloke named Riddle for special services to the school fifty years ago, and I began to hate the man for making me clean up his bloody trophy so thoroughly.

The next day, Harry had nightmare face in the morning, but since we weren’t talking I didn’t ask him about it. I knew he had had his detention too and I figured it had to do with that. I made him and Hermione happy, however, by dying Draco’s hair and turning it _brighter_ than Weasley Red, much to his horror. He didn’t even realize it was me who had done it (as I had put the potion in his drink when he was going to the bathroom and his stupid lackies were otherwise occupied, which luckily worked) and Madam Pomfrey couldn’t un-dye it (or perhaps, had heard what Malfoy had said and didn’t _want_ to un-dye it), so he spent the next month walking around with bright orange hair.

October was spent in a similar fashion to September, but at least I wasn’t on crutches anymore. Everyone in the castle was sick and needed Pepperup potions, including poor George and Neville, whom I often had to bring blankets and hot chocolate to from the kitchens as they spent their days curled up by the Gryffindor fire. Ginny Weasley, whom I had limited contact with (instead of following Harry around like a puppy she would hide from him, clearly terrified to talk to him, and thus I barely saw her even though I wasn’t talking to Harry either) also looked sick, and took some Pepperup potion with her older brother. She was a nice enough girl, but clearly shy around me too since I knew Harry so well.

Halloween finally came, and I spent the day pulling pranks with Fred and George, sending Jack-O-Lanterns flying through the hallways and chasing annoying Slytherins through them, sending all other house members into giggles. I had tea with Professor Snape in the afternoon. He had been more amiable to me than ever since I had told off Lockhart and entered my fight with Harry, clearly pleased I wasn’t requesting for him to cut Harry some slack.

I skipped to the Great Hall for the Feast, immediately sitting down next to Neville. He beamed at me happily.

“Good show, this food. Better than last year,” he eagerly explained.

“Here’s to no troll killing the party,” I held up my glass happily to toast with Neville. As Neville held up his glass, George stated behind me, “Oh don’t be a spoil sport, Maggie.”

“That _troll_ nearly killed my friend, if you remember,” I stuck my tongue out as George and Fred sat across from me and Neville, “As well as me and my brother.”

“Well still, it’s always nice to have a monster around to liven things up a bit,” Fred chortled.

“Don’t give Maggie any ideas,” Neville shook his head gravely.

“Right!” George agreed, turning to me and looking at me intensely, “Maggie, repeat after me.”

I scowled at the three of them, but looked back at George with a roll of my eyes.

“I, Maggie Johnson,” George began.

“I, Maggie Johnson,” I sighed, flicking the bird at Neville while not looking at him. Neville started giggling uncontrollably.

“Will not bring a wild animal, _especially_ not a dragon,” George continued.

“Will not bring a wild animal, especially not a dragon,” I muttered, now flicking off Fred as well as Neville. I saw them high five out of the corner of my eye.

“Into this castle for any reason,” George finished, sitting back from me with a smirk.

“Into this castle for any reason,” I finished in annoyance, looking at all three of them, “Fuck all of you tossers.”

“It’s for your own good Maggie,” Fred chortled. I flicked him off again for good measure while Neville looked around in confusion.

“Where are Harry and Hermione? I mean they’re mad at you but Hermione _definitely_ should be telling you off for being obscene right now,” Neville commented.

“Ya know,” Fred looked around, “I don’t see that bushy head of hair anywhere.”

“Bizarre,” George frowned, “Maybe they’re sitting at a different end of the table?”

“Maybe,” I agreed, though that didn’t seem right to me. Hermione’s hair _was_ noticeable from a distance.

The feast began and we all chowed down in eagerness, laughing over the fact that some of the skeletons had decided to turn Malfoy’s hair read again (well, the person who enchanted the skeletons decided to turn his hair red again.) Occassionally Ron would chat with us, though he wasn’t a huge fan of me still; Lee Jordan, Angelina Johnson, Alicia Spinnet and Katie Bell would also chat with the twins, politely talking to Neville and me as well. Lee was shorter than the twins by a significant amount, with extremely dark skin, and hair twisted into dreadlocks. He was more charismatic than the twins, but somewhat less ingenious. He was also skinny, where they were bulky. Angelina was an absolutely gorgeous girl, with equally dark skin as Lee, and hair also arranged in dreadlocks, though she usually tied them back into a ponytail to keep them out of the way of her face. She had curves and, unlike me, was not afraid to show them off. Alicia was also black, but with somewhat lighter skin than Lee and Angelina, and her hair was extremely poofy, trimmed into a relatively small afro. She was petite and athletic, with amazingly strong looking arms from her time on the Quidditch pitch. Finally, Katie was (as she proudly proclaimed on a frequent basis) of Chinese origin, with long, stick straight black hair and pale skin, neither as curvy as Angelina or as muscular and skinny as Alicia.

Oliver Wood also would talk to us, though mostly to talk to the twins and their friends about Quidditch practice. He was fairly dark in his complexion as well, and had finely cropped black hair and had short black beard. His nose was fairly large, and he was as muscular and beefy as you would expect a Quidditch Captain to be.

“Now you two will be at practice _on time_ tomorrow, right?” Oliver ordered, “You’ve been late every week for a month!”

“Blame Maggie, she insists we play games and go pranking until the wee hours of the night,” George immediately responded.

“Hey! You never told me your practices were so early!” I shouted in response, “Don’t pawn off your irresponsibility on me!”

“I don’t believe that bullhocky for a minute,” Oliver rolled his eyes but let the issue drop.

“Don’t go blaming Maggie for all your problems,” Neville laughed.

“Ah, but that’s the very definition of irresponsibility!” Fred chortled, “Blaming others for your mistakes.”

“I have been nothing but an asset to you both,” I stuck my tongue out at them.

“Didn’t work at any rate, Wood knows we’re just lazy sons of bitches,” George chuckled.

“Hey, you know who else I haven’t seen?” Fred commented. We all shook our heads and he frowned at us.

“Ginny. She usually shows up when Harry isn’t around,” Fred frowned.

“You would think she’d come to the Feast!” George shook his head mournfully, “We really need to talk to her, get her to loosen up.”

“Cut her some slack,” I rolled my eyes, “She has four older brothers here _and_ her crush.”

“It’s overwhelming enough without all that,” Neville agreed.

“Still, no reason to miss good pudding!” George cheered as the aforementioned food appeared on the table. We ate truckloads of candy, pie, and other desserts in happiness before all grouping up together and leaving the Great Hall. I felt full to bursting and the others clearly did the same, waddling up the stairs and laughing lazily.

We finally reached the second floor of the school and were greeted with a horrific sight. There were puddles of water all over the floor and writing on the wall in what looked horrifically like blood, saying _THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED. ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE_. And, hanging on the wall as stiff as a stone, was Mrs. Norris, Mr. Flich’s cat.

Harry and Hermione were standing underneath the cat looking dumbstruck at the truckload of people who had walked up to it. Harry had nightmare face again and Hermione had a look that came close to it.

“Enemies of the Heir, beware! You’ll be next, Mudbloods!” I heard the loathsome voice of Draco Malfoy call out behind me. I growled at him angrily, _literally growled_ , and George put a firm hand on my shoulder, holding me back from attacking him.

Filch came running up and started shouting in horror, “What’s going on here? What’s going on!” Before turning to the cat and looking horrified as he shouted, “My cat! My cat! What’s happened to Mrs. Norris?’

He turned to Harry and screamed, “ _YOU! YOU! You’ve murdered my cat! You’ve killed her! I’ll kill you! I’ll –“_

“ARGUS!” I heard Professor Dumbledore shout over the din. He walked up to my two estranged friends and to the caretaker, very calm.

“Come with me, Argus,” he ordered as he pulled Mrs. Norris from the wall, “You too, Mr. Potter, Miss Granger.”

Lockhart stepped forward out of the crowd and offered his office as the group left calmly. I turned to Fred and George and Neville, who all looked at me in equal shock.

“I might be mad at him, but I know my brother. He wouldn’t have done that,” I stated calmly.

“We agree, Maggie,” George nodded.

“Definitely, but then… well, then who did?” Neville whispered.

“Another mystery,” Fred paused and looked at me, “I think you need to team up with your mystery solving team again.”

“I agree,” sighed, “The fight’s gone on long enough.”

I looked over at the bloody wall and felt a chill run through me, cold as ice. I knew nothing of what was going on, or what exactly would come next.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoyed this chapter as well! Thanks for reading, and let me know what you think!


	12. Chapter Eleven: October 31st - Mid December, 1992, Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Welcome to the fallout
> 
> Welcome to resistance
> 
> The tension is here
> 
> Tension is here
> 
> Between who you are and who you could be
> 
> Between how it is and how it should be
> 
> I dare you to move."
> 
> ~ Switchfoot, "Dare You to Move".

Chapter Eleven: October 31st – Mid December, 1992, Hogwarts

I sat in the Common Room, waiting for them to come back. Neville sat next to me in an armchair, frowning in contemplation. Fred and George had gone off with Lee Jordan to discuss the events themselves.

They finally entered the Common Room, and I gave them no choice but to talk to me when I walked up to them and stood in front of them hesitantly.

“I’m sorry I got you into trouble, Harry, and I’m sorry for being so disrespectful, Hermione,” I stated calmly, “I want to be friends again.”

Harry smiled a very weak smile, “Alright, alright, this has gone on long enough.”

“He’s right,” Hermione smiled too, also weakly, “Do you want to hear what happened?”

“Of course!” I nodded eagerly and we went back to where Neville was still sitting, each of us taking one of the three remaining armchairs.

“Well, during my detention with Lockhart, back the first week of term, I heard these voices,” Harry began, “Professor Lockhart, however, _couldn’t_ hear them. They were talking about killing someone, so I got rather freaked out.”

“Well, yeah,” I frowned, looking at him apologetically.

“It didn’t happen again, though, until tonight. We had gone to Nearly Headless Nick’s 500th Deathday party, because I had promised him I would. He was feeling a little down for lots of reasons and he mentioned the party and I felt obligated to say I would go,” Harry sighed.

“Which he instantly regretted but I made him go anyway,” Hermione smiled teasingly. Harry shook his head in sadness.

“Anyway, it was a horrific party and so we started to leave. When we entered the corridors, though, I heard the voice again. So I followed it down to the second floor, and you obviously know what I saw,” Harry frowned.

“It really wasn’t us who’d done it, but we all went back to Lockhart’s office. First off – and you’ll be right pleased with this – Professor Snape snapped at Lockhart and basically implied he was a fraud. Hagrid thinks he’s one, too,” Hermione laughed.

“Most excellent,” I rolled my eyes, “Anyone know why the idiot was hired?”

“Well, Hagrid says he’s the only man who’d take the job – as in, everyone thinks its cursed,” Harry sighed, “So I’m afraid we’re stuck with him.”

“Greeaaaaat,” I over pronounced, “Continue with the story.”

“Well, I found out the other day that Filch was taking these Kwikspell courses, because he’s a Squib – the child of a witch and a wizard who can’t do magic themselves, sort of a reverse muggle-born,” Harry explained, “He was furious that I found out but Nick saved me by pretending to be Peeves. Anyway, so Filch immediately assumed it was me because his cat was petrified and he thought I would attack him for being a Squib.”

“Petrified?” Neville asked.

“Mrs. Norris isn’t dead,” Hermione explained, “She’s just been frozen, though no one has any idea why.”

“So we have no idea who did this, but everyone in the school’s going to be thinking it’s me,” Harry groaned, “But the teachers, except for Snape of course, think I’m innocent.”

“Well there’s that at least,” I paused, “Anyone have any idea what to do next?”

“There was a lot of water on the floor, and there’s a girl’s bathroom nearby,” Harry paused, “Hermione said something about…”

“Moaning Myrtle’s Bathroom?” I looked at Hermione with raised eyebrows, “Must we deal with her?”

“I think we have to,” Hermione sighed. I nodded mournfully.

Ginny, at that moment, scurried past us, walking to the girls’ staircase. She seemed even shier than usual, wrapped in her cloak and hiding her face from the rest of us. I watched her run away with a frown.

“I’m just confused about these voices,” Harry sighed, bringing me back to the situation at hand.

“Definitely never a good thing,” Neville agreed mournfully.

Over the next few days, the attack was all anyone ever talked about. I hadn’t seen Hermione in a while and Harry explained that she was in the library almost constantly outside of class, which I wouldn’t really consider unusual except our homework load was unusually light.

As we worked on some History of Magic essays, of which mine was not going very well at all, Hermione sat over next to us with a grunt and a sigh.

“All the copies of Hogwarts, A History have been taken out,” Hermione groaned, “And there’s a two-week waiting list. I _wish_ I hadn’t left my copy at home, but I couldn’t fit it in my trunk with all the Lockhart books.”

“Why do you want it?” Harry asked curiously.

“The same reason everyone else wants it, to read up on the legend of the Chamber of Secrets,” Hermione explained.

“What’s that?” I asked, frowning.

“That’s just it. I can’t remember. And I can’t find the story anywhere else…” Hermione sighed, looking over at our pathetic homework attempts.

“Do you three need help?” she finally sighed again to my fairly large puppy dog expression I was sending. Neville immediately thrust his essay forward with a too-innocent smile. The twins had taught him well.

“Yes please,” I begged, handing her my essay as well. Hermione helped us finish up the essay just before the class started, lecturing us on actually paying attention in that class the entire time. But Professor Binns was the most boring teacher of all time – _of all time_. And as I settled in that class I prepared myself for my usual nap.

But then Hermione raised her hand, causing all of us to look at her in complete shock. Professor Binns looked as shocked as any of us and didn’t really seem to remember her name as he called on her, saying “Miss… er…?”

“Granger, Professor. I was wondering if you could tell us anything about the Chamber of Secrets,” Hermione responded clearly.

Dean Thomas looked up in shock, Siobhan jumped a little in her seat, Lavender awoke from her nap and Neville leaned forward eagerly. Professor Binns, however, looked rather disgruntled.

“My subject is History of Magic, Miss Granger. I deal with _facts_ , not myths and legends,” he cleared his throat to continue with the rest of the lesson when Hermione raised her hand again.

“Miss Grant?” he asked again.

“Please, sir, don’t legends always have a basis in fact?”

Professor Binns looked absolutely shocked as he responded, “Well, yes, one could argue that, I suppose. However, the legend of which you speak is such a very _sensational_ , even _ludicrous_ tale…”

Everyone was looking at him eagerly, though, with more attention than I felt he had ever received in his class in his life. He looked around in amazement before sighing in defeat.

“Oh very well. Let me see, the Chamber of Secrets… You all know, of course, that Hogwarts was founded over a thousand years ago – the precise date is uncertain – by the four greatest witches and wizards of the age. The four school Houses are named after them: Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin. They built this castle together, far from prying Muggle eyes, for it was an age when magic was feared by common people, and witches and wizards suffered much persecution… For a few years, the founders worked in harmony together, seeking out youngsters who showed signs of magic and bringing them to the castle to be educated. But then disagreements sprang up between them. A rift began to grow between Slytherin and the others. Slytherin wished to be more _selective_ about the students admitted to Hogwarts. He believed that magical learning should be kept within all-magic families. He disliked taking students of Muggle parentage, believing them to be untrustworthy. After a while, there was a serious argument on the subject between Slytherin and Gryffindor, and Slytherin left the school… Reliable historical sources tell us this much. But these honest facts have been obscured by the fanciful legend of the Chamber of Secrets. The story goes that Slytherin had built a hidden chamber in the castle, of which the other founders knew nothing. Slytherin, according to the legend, sealed the Chamber of Secrets so that none would be able to open it until his own true heir arrived at the school. The heir alone would be able to unseal the Chamber of Secrets, unleash the horror within, and use it to purge the school of all who were unworthy to study magic.”

You could have heard a pin drop in the room and Professor Binns looked completely annoyed.

“The whole thing is arrant nonsense, of course,” Binns snapped, “Naturally, the school has been searched for evidence of such a chamber, many times, but the most learned witches and wizards. It does not exist. A tale told to frighten the gullible.”

Hermione raised her hand again and continued, “Sir, what exactly do you mean by the ‘horror within’ the Chamber?”

“There is believed to be some sort of monster, which the Heir of Slytherin alone can control,” Professor Binns explained.

Harry looked over at me in shock and I shook my head fearfully.

“I tell you, the thing does not exist. There is no Chamber and no monster,” Binns snapped.

“But sir,” Seamus interjected, “If the Chamber can only be opened by Slytherin’s true heir, no one else _would_ be able to find it, would they?”

“Nonsense, O’Flaherty,” Binns responded angrily, “If a long succession of Hogwarts headmasters and headmistresses haven’t found the thing –“

“But wouldn’t you have to use really rare Dark magic to open it?” I asked in confusion.

“Just because a wizard _doesn’t_ use Dark Magic doesn’t mean he _can’t_ , Miss Jones,” Binns snapped, “I repeat, if the likes of Dumbledore…”

“But maybe you’ve got to be related to Slytherin, so Dumbledore couldn’t…” Dean Thomas suggested.

“That will do,” Binns interrupted, “It is a myth! It does not exist! There is not a shred of evidence that Slytherin ever built so much as a secret broom cupboard! I regret telling you such a foolish story! We will return, if you please, to _history_ , to slid, believable, verifiable _fact!_ ”

I turned back to my desk for more naptime.

As we left the classroom, Harry looked rather downtrodden. It wasn’t nightmare face, but it was definitely close to it as we walked through the hallway.

“I never imagined it was Salazar Slytherin who started all this pure-blood stuff,” I commented casually, “I wouldn’t be in his house for all the money in the world. If the Sorting Hat had even tried to put me there I would have muted the damn thing and shouted out Gryffindor myself.”

Hermione and Neville nodded next to me but Harry remained sullenly silent. I looked over at him curiously but he refused to meet my gaze.

As we continued to walk, many a person sort of skidded around Harry in fear – Siobhan, Justin Finch-Fletchley, and Michael Corner just from our year.  

“Why are they all acting so weird?” Hermione asked in amazement as a first year looked up at Harry, squeaked and ran away.

“They think I’m Slytherin’s heir, I expect,” Harry responded, but he sounded rather defeatist.

“That’s absolute nonsense,” I rolled my eyes before turning to Hermione, “Do you really think there’s a Chamber?”

“I don’t know… Dumbledore couldn’t cure Mrs. Norris, and that makes me think that whatever attacked her might not be… well… human,” Hermione murmured in worry.

We suddenly appeared on the second floor and in front of the message. We looked around the area and silently agreed to scout for clues. Harry began crawling around on the floor and found scorch marks there, and Hermione called for us to come to where she was pointing up at the windowpane. A trail of little spiders was walking up through the window.

I had a flashback to a large spider appearing out of nowhere in the forest and I let out a violent shiver.

“Have you ever seen spiders act like that?” Hermione asked in amazement.

“No, have you Maggie?” Harry asked me.

I shook my head, my lips pursed together in fear.

“What is it?” Neville asked, his voice turning to concern as he walked up to me and looked at me worriedly. He then saw the spiders and, presumably remembering my ankle injury, wrapped an arm around my shoulder comfortingly.

“I just… recently had an encounter with… an extraordinarily large spider in the woods,” I swallowed thickly, “And I have managed to not think about that until now.”

“Oh,” Harry murmured, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, let’s just… get out of here,” I begged, stepping farther away from the window.

“Wasn’t there water on the floor?” Hermione asked, looking around as we stepped away from the window together.

“It was level with the door,” Harry agreed, pointing to the door to Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom.

“Let’s take a look, shall we?” I suggested, eagerly walking away from the spiders.

“But its a girl’s toilet,” Harry protested. Neville looked conflicted as well, but the look that Hermione and I gave them both clearly persuaded him.

“Oh fine,” Harry groaned. We went inside the toilet together quietly, trying to not attract attention to ourselves.

Hermione walked over to the end of the row of stalls and called out, “Hello, Myrtle, how are you?”

Moaning Myrtle, looking depressed as always, floated up into the air and eyed Harry and Neville suspiciously.

“This is a girl’s bathroom,” Myrtle commented, “ _They’re_ not girls.”

“No,” Hermione agreed, “I just wanted to show them how – er – nice it is in here.”

“Ask her if she saw anything,” Harry mouthed.

“What are you whispering?” Myrtle demanded, staring at him.

“Nothing… We wanted to ask…” Harry began.

“I wish people would stop talking behind my back! I _do_ have feelings, you know, even if I _am_ dead –“ Myrtle shrieked.

“Myrtle, we’re not talking about you behind your back, Harry only…” I sighed.

“No one’s talking about me behind my back! That’s a good one! My life was nothing but misery at this place and now people come along ruining my death!” Myrtle howled.

“We wanted to ask you if you’ve seen anything funny lately, because a cat was attacked right outside your front door on Halloween,” Hermione interjected.

“Did you see anyone near here that night?” Neville begged

“I wasn’t paying attention. Peeves upset me so much I came in here and tried to _kill_ myself. Then, of course, I remembered that I’m – that I’m –“

“Yeah,” I muttered. Myrtle let out a sob and dove into a toilet, causing a frightful splash.

“Well that was almost cheerful,” I sighed, “Let’s get out of here.”

We left the bathroom and managed to sneak away before Percy Weasley saw us, sneaking over to the Common Room to get started on our charms homework. I was banging my head repeatedly on the table as I tried to remember the correct theory as Hermione slammed her book shut.

“Who can it be, really?” she whispered, “Who would _want_ to frighten all the Squibs and Muggle-borns out of Hogwarts?”

“Pick a Slytherin, any Slytherin,” I muttered.

“But it would have to be someone so completely bent on it that they’d do anything, someone who is so ruthless, so cold-hearted…” Hermione continued.

“Alright, who is the penultimate Slytherin? Someone so truly terrible they’d do this sort of thing?” I asked.

“What about Malfoy?” Harry suggested.

Hermione and I looked at him skeptically.

“Harry, mate, do you really think _Malfoy_ could be the heir? Really?” I sighed.

“But look at his family, the whole lot of them have been in Slytherin; he’s always boasting about it. They could easily be Slytherin’s descendants. His father’s definitely evil enough,” Harry insisted, “They could have been handing down the key for centuries.”

“Well, I suppose it’s possible…” Hermione responded.

“How would you even prove it, Harry?” Neville asked.

“There might be a way,” Hermione began, “But it would be difficult. And dangerous, very dangerous. We’d be breaking bout fifty school rules, I expect… What we’d need to do is get inside the Slytherin common room and ask Malfoy a few questions without him realizing it’s us.”

“That seems like it’ll end well,” Neville frowned. The sarcasm was new for him, so Hermione and Harry seemed startled, though I was pleased that the twins had rubbed off on him so much.

“All we’d need would be some Polyjuice Potion,” Hermione explained, moving past her shock and back onto business.

“Isn’t that the thing Snape mentioned a few weeks ago?” I asked.

“It transforms you into someone else,” Hermione nodded, “Think about it! We could change into three of the Slytherins. No one would know it was us. Malfoy would probably tell us anything. He’s probably boasting about it in the Slytherin common room right now, if only we could hear him.”

“It sounds a bit dodgy, though,” Harry paused, “What if we’re Slytherins forever?”

“It wears off after a while,” Hermione explained, “But getting hold of the recipe will be very difficult. Snape said it was in a book called _Moste Potente Potions_ and it’s bound to be in the Restricted Section…”

“How could we convince a teacher we only wanted it to read up on theory or something and not actually trying to brew anything?” I rolled my eyes.

“A teacher would have to be really, _really_ thick to fall for it…” Harry sighed.

We all looked at each other as we came to the same conclusion at the same time.

“You’d better ask him, Hermione. You’re the most polite one,” Neville stated calmly.

“You could do it, too, Neville,” Hermione protested.

“Nah, not only are you polite, but you also are doing well in his class. He loves you,” Neville smirked.

“He does _not_ – “

“Just do it,” Harry laughed, “Maggie certainly can’t and I’d better not anyway.”

“Fine,” Hermione snapped, picking up her books in anger, “But he does _not_ love me.”

Harry, Neville and I looked at each other and continued to chuckle.

After our next Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson, Harry, Neville and I waited outside the door together for Hermione. Hermione came outside rolling her eyes.

“He didn’t even look at the book we wanted,” she sighed, “But I’ve got the permission form. Let’s get to the library.”

We reached the library and Madam Pince, after much questioning, retrieved the book for us. We scampered back to Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom and sat together inside, Harry looking supremely uncomfortable as we did so. Neville looked less so, which was strangely out of character for the two of them. Hermione had the book open and was thumbing though it anxiously.

“This is the most complicated potion I’ve ever seen,” she murmured, “Lacewing flies, leeches, fluxed, and knotgrass… well, they’re easy enough, they’re in the student store-cupboard, we can help ourselves… Oooh, look, powdered horn of a bicorn – don’t know where we’re going to get that – shredded skin of a boomslang – that’ll be tricky, too – and a bit of whomever we’re changing into…”

“A bit? Of who we’re changing into?” I looked at her in confusion.

“A hair will do,” Hermione waved off my concern with her hand.

“The amount of stealing we’re going to have to do,” Neville frowned, “I mean… this sounds like stuff that’s in Snape’s stores.”

Hermione closed the book sharply, “Well, if you want to chicken out, then fine. _I_ don’t want to break the rules, but you know _I_ think threatening muggle-borns is far worse than brewing up a difficult potion. But if you don’t want to find out if it’s Malfoy, I’ll go straight to Madam Pince now and hand the book back in…”

“All right, all right,” I sighed, “How long’s it going to take?”

“Since the fluxweed has got to be picked at the full moon and the lacewings have got to be stewed for twenty-one days… it’ll be ready in about a month, if we can get the ingredients,” Hermione explained with a defeated sigh.

“A month!” Harry and I shouted in shock. Hermione glared at us and we both sighed in defeat.

The next day was the first Quidditch match of the season. I climbed up into the stands, nestled in with a crowd of fellow second-years. It was nice to know that Malfoy wouldn’t be bothering us in the stands, but at the same time I was terrified about what he would do to Harry in the air.

The players all rose into the air and Harry rose highest of all, trying to look around for the snitch. George flew by directly over the Gryffindor stands and swooped over my head, causing everyone around me to shriek and duck in terror.

“WEASLEY!” I shouted at the top of my lungs. He laughed and waved before heading back into the stadium.

“Honestly,” I muttered. Hermione was laughing and Neville looked rather disgruntled.

“Seriously, though, Maggie,” Hermione paused, “Sorry about ditching you for so long.”

“Oh it’s alright, Hermione,” I sighed, “I just have a lot of trouble controlling my anger around Lockhart.”

“I don’t blame you,” Hermione scowled, “The man is a racist. He only loves me because he found out I was Jewish. I’m willing to bet ten galleons that if I was Muslim he’d ignore me.”

“Reasons to convert, by me,” I declared cheerfully. Hermione rolled her eyes in amusement.

I looked over and my eyes followed Harry as he flew around. He appeared to be trying to dodge something, and I saw that a bludger was following him quite persistently, something that really didn’t happen much in the game. No matter what Fred and George did, the bludger kept coming back, and the rest of the players were rather undefended from the other bludger.

“Well, that’s a problem,” Hermione commented, looking terrified despite the lightness of her tone of voice.

The team called a time out and seemed to be discussing something rather angrily down on the field. Finally, they all went back up into the air, and neither Fred nor George was trying to protect Harry from the bludger. I felt myself grip the back of the seat in front of me as the ball kept coming back to attack Harry again and again, grimacing in terror.

Harry dove past Malfoy at one point, almost knocking him off his broom, clearly chasing after the snitch as that idiotic bludger followed closely on his tail. He was hit in the arm by the bludger and then he managed to, somehow, grab the glittering golden snitch before crashing into the ground.

I looked at Hermione and Neville and whispered, “Let’s go.” Ron followed us as we all ran out onto the field. Harry had fainted on the ground, but Lockhart was already there before we managed to get there.

“Not to worry, Harry,” Lockhart reassured as he came to, “I’m about to fix your arm.”

“ _No!_ ” Harry shouted, “I’ll keep it like this, thanks…”

Harry looked to be in terrible pain and we all murmured anxiously, Colin Creevey taking incessant photos in the background.

“Lie back, Harry,” Lockhart insisted, “It’s a simple charm I’ve used countless times…”

“Why can’t I just go to the hospital wing?” Harry begged.

“He should really, Professor,” I heard Oliver Wood insist, “Great capture, Harry, really spectacular, your best yet, I’d say…”

Fred and George were trying to wrestle the idiotic bludger into a box with extreme difficulty.

“Stand back,” Lockhart insisted.

“No – don’t –“ Harry begged, but Lockhart had shouted an incantation and magic went to his arm. It suddenly became limp and jelly like, almost deflated as it lay limp at his side.

“Ah,” Lockhart muttered as Colin clicked away, “Yes, well, that can sometimes happen. But the point is, the bones are no longer broken. That’s the thing to bear in mind. So, Harry, just toddle up to the hospital wing – ah, Miss Granger, Miss Johnson, Mr. Longbottom, would you escort him? – and Madam Pomfrey will be able to – er – tidy you up a bit.”

As I helped Harry up, I saw immediately what had happened. Lockhart had removed all the bones in his arm.

Madam Pomfrey was furious, giving him some Skele-Gro to force him to regrow the bones overnight. The potion was, apparently, disgusting as he coughed and spluttered trying to get it down.

“How is he still at this school?” I grunted in annoyance as I helped Harry get into his pyjamas with Neville, Hermione looking away up at the ceiling.

“I’m willing to bet he’s the only person who would take the Dark Arts job,” Hermione replied shrewdly, “It’s cursed, isn’t it? I mean no one’s lasted very long for a while according to Hagrid.”

“I’d say they should let Snape teach it, but that would probably make me wet myself,” Neville muttered in annoyance as we got Harry back onto the bed.

“I want to know who fixed the Bludger,” I sighed.

“Malfoy, I’m guessing,” Hermione muttered darkly.

“We’ll have to ask him when we take the Polyjuice Potion,” Harry grunted, “I hope it tastes better than Skele-Gro…”

“Slytherin-a-la-mode? You’ve got to be joking,” I shook my head.

The rest of the Gryffindor team then entered, showering Harry in cakes, snacks, and pumpkin juice and talking and laughing loudly. However, Madam Pomfrey kicked us out, and we all trudged up together to the Common Room, where Fred, George and I developed an elaborate scheme to prank Malfoy the next day.

When I woke up, Hermione was standing anxiously by my bed. It was a Sunday and I always spent Sundays sleeping in.

I rolled over and pulled the blankets over my head, “Hermione, go _away_ , I need more sleep…”

“You really don’t,” she whispered, “Another person’s been attacked.”

I sat up wildly in bed, “Wait, wait – _who_?”

“Colin Creevey,” she continued anxiously, “He’s been petrified.”

“You’re _kidding_ ,” I stood up and started getting dressed, “Does Harry know?”

“Well, since Colin is currently petrified in a bed not too far from him, I’d say so,” Hermione shook her head sadly.

“Jesus. More people are going to keep getting attacked. We have to make the potion as quickly as possible,” I urged as I threw on a baggy flannel shirt.

“The problem is schoolwork. We have plenty of it,’ Hermione sighed, “That on top of timing and it’s going to be difficult to do at best.”

“But we have to, right?” I turned to her desperately as I pulled my hair into a ponytail, “We can’t just let this happen.”

“Of course not,” Hermione nodded fiercely, before pausing, “If we get caught, though…”

“Then we get caught,” I sighed, “Hermione, you can’t keep hiding from this. I know hiding worked for you in grammar school, but –“

“But what?” Hermione snapped, “I kept my head down, I didn’t get picked on.”

“This is bigger than getting picked on,” I urged, “You’re thirteen. The wizarding world is shite,” I hissed under my breath, “And if we don’t work to fight the shite, we’re just living in it.”

Hermione looked at me before sighing, “You’re right. I know you’re right. Honestly, I’ve known you were right since I found out about House Elves. This is more than just racism and anti-muggle born prejudice.”

“Exactly,” I nodded fervently, “So if we get caught, at the least, we’ve done the right thing.”

Hermione grinned, “Between not being afraid of breaking the rules and not being afraid of established power structures, I’m likely to get arrested before I’m an adult.”

“Life goals,” I laughed as we left the dormitory.

“You’ve seen Harry today?” I asked as we ran down the steps and out of the Common Room.

“Yes,” Hermione paused, “And wait until you hear this…” She explained as we ran down to the Hospital Wing about Dobby, _him_ closing the barrier, _his_ rogue bludger, and how the Chamber had been opened before.

“Well, bullocks,” I groaned, “We have _got_ to talk to Malfoy, and _soon_.”

We ran to the Hospital Wing, grabbed Harry after his final check-up, and headed out to Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom. We hadn’t run into Neville on the way, so I sprinted out to the Greenhouses to get him, and dragged him up to the bathroom.

“Maybe Lucius Malfoy opened the chamber when _he_ was at school, and now he’s got Draco doing it again. But I did hope that Dobby would have told you what the monster in the chamber was while he was at it, because I can’t for the life of me figure out how no one’s spotted the thing,” I sighed when I got back, facing Harry and panting a little from all the running. Neville sat down on the tiled floor, panting much more than I in exhaustion, glaring at me with annoyance.

“Maybe the monster can make itself invisible, or disguise itself. I’ve heard of all sorts of vanishing animals,” Hermione nodded vigorously.

“And how are we supposed to _fight_ such a thing when we find it?” I rolled my eyes.

“Maybe your archery skills will finally come in handly!” Harry joked.

“Oh god. We’re doomed,” Neville fake-gasped. I hit him upside the head in annoyance.

“But seriously, hopefully we can just reveal the person controlling the monster, and leave whatever it is be for the rest of its days,” Harry sighed.

“I definitely feel comfortable having a dirty great beast living in the castle, that seems like a sound plan,” I muttered, watching the cauldron bubble and glurp before me.

As December rolled around, however, we were faced with a grand problem. We still needed the bicorn horn and the boomslang skin, and the only way that could be retrieved was through Snape’s private stores.

“What we need,” Hermione began, “Is a diversion. Then one of us can sneak into Snape’s office and take what we need during Potions.”

“I think I should do the stealing,” I paused, “Snape would make sure Harry was expelled and I know the layout of his office the best.”

“That’s true,” Hermione sighed, “And you two _do_ get along better than him and any other student.”

“Shush,” I whispered, “If he founds out I’ve told anyone about that he’ll _murder_ Harry.”

“Me?” Harry looked at me in shock.

“It would be more satisfying than murdering me,” I paused.

“At least he wouldn’t murder me,” Neville shrugged his shoulders.

“I’ve tried to get him to stop bullying you,” I groaned, “I’m not saying I’m the hugest fan of the guy, only that he owes my mum big time, so he gives me biscuits. But yes, of course I’ll do it.”

So in potions class that week, we were working on our Swelling Solutions. I had taken a cauldron near the door, next to Hermione, who was trying to distract Snape from the fact that Harry on the opposite side of the classroom had a Filibuster firework. Neville, whose potions skills were abysmal to begin with, was actually screwing up on purpose, to make sure that Snape barely went over to Harry’s and my workstation. Between Hermione constantly asking to talk to Snape and Neville constantly groaning in distress, the distraction was working perfectly.

Snape was facing away from both Harry and me and there wasn’t going to be another time to do it. I nodded at him and he let the firework free, aiming it at Goyle’s cauldron. It landed right on target and I managed to slip away, scampering up to Snape’s office.

I looked around wildly as I heard the screams and chaos of the classroom. I finally pinpointed the jar of boomslang skin and took enough out, stuffing it into my robes. I then found the vial of bicorn horn and took enough of that into one of my own vials, placing it with the boomslang skin. I then peeped out of the office door and watched as Snape, facing away from it, had the students get into a line to mitigate the effects of the exploded potion.

I snuck back down and stuffed the ingredients into my bag, standing near Hermione quietly. Snape swept over to Goyle’s cauldron and pulled the dead firework from it, the entire class falling deathly silent.

“If I ever find out who threw this,” Snape murmured in a deathly quiet voice, “I shall make sure that person is expelled.”

Harry was clearly trying to look innocent and the bell couldn’t have come sooner. I gave the ingredients to Hermione and we ran to Myrtle’s bathroom, her immediately stirring furiously.

“The potion will be done in two weeks,” she declared proudly.

“Snape can’t prove it was you,” I reassured Harry.

“He’ll still do something horrific to me,” Harry groaned, sliding against the bathroom wall.

“I bloody hate that class,” Neville muttered, “I wish he had been hit with the exploding potion.”

A week later, it was announced that a Dueling Club was being started for the students of the school. Having finished the book on Dueling Harry had gotten me for Christmas last year, I insisted upon going, and Hermione, Neville and Harry agreed that it would be better to attend the club than to not.

“I wonder who will be teaching us? I heard Flitwick was a dueling champion when he was young – maybe it’ll be him,” Hermione suggested eagerly as we all filed into the Great Hall, which had the tables gone and a large stage set up in front.

“As long as it’s not…” Harry began, but groaned in horror as Lockhart came up onto the stage, wearing purple robes and accompanied by Snape.

“Great,” I groaned with Harry, “I know more than this buffoon about dueling and I haven’t even ever _done_ it.”

“Well this is pointless!” Neville muttered in my ear and I laughed out loud. The twins and Ron walked up to us, all three with fairly similar expressions of disgust at the proceedings on their faces.

“Gather round, gather round!” Lockhart called, “Can everyone see me? Can you all hear me? Excellent! Now, Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to start this little dueling club, to train you all in case you ever need to defend yourselves as I myself have done on countless occasions – for full details, see my published works. Let me introduce my assistant, Professor Snape,” Lockhart gestured. I managed to meet Snape’s gaze and I grimaced for him. His head gave an imperceptible nod of agreement as Lockhart continued, “He tells me he knows a tiny little bit about dueling himself and has sportingly agreed to help me with a short demonstration before we begin. Now, I don’t want any of you youngsters to worry – you’ll still have your Potions master when I’m through with him, never fear!”

I heard Ron mutter to Harry next to me, “Wouldn’t it be good if they finished each other off?”

Lockhart and Snape turned to face each other, Snape wearing the face of pure loathing and hatred he usually reserved for Harry or Neville. Neville next to me look right afraid of it even though it wasn’t being directed at him. Despite the confidence he had gained from the end of last year, and from hanging out with the twins, he still had some weak spots when it came to certain individuals.

The two of them raised their wands like swords in front of them, the correct dueling position. However, Lockhart wasn’t gripping his wand correctly at all- he was gripping it in a way that didn’t allow any wrist movement, and would keep him locked in position. I wanted to call him out on it so much, but I didn’t feel like getting into trouble today.

“As you see, we are holding our wands in the accepted combative position. On the count of three, we will cast our first spells. Neither of us will be aiming to kill, of course,” Lockhart explained.

“Um…” I laughed quietly and Harry grinned with me.

“One – Two – Three!”

Snape cried out _Expelliarmus!_ , the classic disarming spell. Lockhart didn’t say anything of all and was blasted off his feet, his wand flying out of his hand and into Snape’s.

The Slytherins burst into cheers and I, the lone Gryffindor to do so, began clapping. Even Harry looked moderately pleased. Hermione looked distressed but I pointedly ignored this.

“Well, there you have it!” Lockhart declared as he managed to get back to his feet, “That was a Disarming Charm – as you see, I’ve lost my wand – ah, thank you, Miss Brown – yes, an excellent idea to show them that, Professor Snape, but if you don’t mind my saying so, it was very obvious what you were about to do. If I had wanted to stop you it would have been only too easy – however, I felt it would be instructive to let them see…”

Snape looked angrier than I had ever seen before.

“Enough demonstrating!” Lockhart squeaked, “I’m going to come amongst you now and put you all into pairs. Professor Snape if you’d like to help me…”

Snape walked over to us and sneered down at Harry.

“Time to split up the friends, I believe,” he snarled, “Johnson, you partner Miss Parkinson. Potter, you go with Mr. Malfoy. Longbottom, you can go with Mr. Crabbe. And you, Miss Granger, you can partner Miss Bulstrode.”

I faced Pansy angrily; feeling like Snape knew I was the one to have stolen from his private stores. Pansy sneered at me with her pug, tanned face and I lifted my wand. No one but Harry really knew that I had read a whole book on the subject of dueling and practiced the spells in my room with him, however, play dueling your brother and dueling an evil little Slytherin were completely different things.

“Face your partners!” Lockhart called, “And bow!”

I bowed sarcastically, flaying my arms out and my sides and winking at her. Pansy sneered and barely lowered herself.

“Wands at the ready!” Lockhart shouted, “When I count to three, cast your charms to disarm your opponents – only to disarm them! We don’t want any accidents – one… two… three-“

I immediately stepped forward and shouted, “ _Locomotor Mortis!_ ”

Pansy’s legs locked together and she fell to the floor just as she shouted “ _Locomotor Wibbly_!” I felt my legs turn to jelly as I also fell to the ground. I somehow managed to get to her, seeing my chance, and plucked one of her hairs from the back of her head.

“OW!” she shrieked, “What was _that_ for?”

“ _Expelliarmus!_ ” I shouted instead of replying, and her wand flew into my hand. I beamed cheekily at her as Lockhart shouted “STOP! STOP!”

“ _Finite Incantatem!_ ” Snape shouted above the roar.

Everyone was in tatters around us. I managed to stand up and see that Millicent had Hermione in a headlock and Hermione was clearly in pain, with their wands on the floor. Harry leapt forward and helped pull Millicent off and I helped pull Hermione away, both of us grunting with the effort.

“I think I’d better teach you how to _block_ unfriendly spells,” Lockhart declared, “Let’s have a volunteer pair – Longbottom and Crabbe, how about you –“

“A bad idea, Professor Lockhart,” Snape sneered, “Longbottom causes devastation with the simplest spells. We’ll be sending what’s left of Finch-Fletchley up to the hospital wing in a matchbox.” Neville blushed horrifically and I reached over to give his shoulder a reassuring squeeze as Snape continued, “How about Malfoy and Potter?”

“Excellent idea!” Lockhart enthused, helping the two of them up onto the stage. He began muttering to Harry, wiggling his wand around in the air rather crazily before it dropped to the floor. Snape also whispered something to Malfoy. I crossed my arms in front of my chest and glared at the stage angrily.

I wanted to shout, _remember, Harry, PROTEGO!_ But I knew no one would appreciate that much.

“Three – Two – One- GO!” Lockhart shouted. Malfoy immediately raised his wand and shouted, “ _Serpensortia!_ ” The end of his wand exploded and a long black snake fell out and onto the floor, causing the screams of many of the students.

 _Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap…_ I thought anxiously.

“Don’t move, Potter,” Snape reassured lazily, “I’ll get rid of it.”

 _Don’t say anything, don’t talk to the snake, don’t say anything…_ I begged internally. He didn’t look at me, but I still shook my head madly at Harry as Hermione and Neville looked at me in confusion.

“Allow me!” Lockhart shouted. He brandished his wand and there was a loud bang, but the snake simply flew into the air and fell to the floor near Justin Finch-Fletchley.

 _“No!”_ I shouted at the top of my lungs as Harry walked towards the snake. Everyone looked at me in shock, and Harry grimaced apologetically, though not looking at me. “ _Harry, don’t!_ ” I furthered desperately, raising my wand to stop him.

Harry stepped forward the snake, though, and I knew it was too late. He started hissing, and though I knew Harry would never do such a thing, it sounded like he was encouraging the snake. I buried my face in my hands and groaned as the entire hall looked at him in terror and anger. Justin himself demanded what Harry was playing at.

Everyone was silent and apprehensive as Snape vanished the snake. I managed to grab Harry and pull him out of the Great Hall, Hermione, Ron, and Neville following us close behind as we reached the Common Room.

“Harry, you _know_ you’re not supposed to talk to snakes!” I shouted at him once we got inside, “We said that was the dumbest idea ever and –“

“You’re a parselmouth? Harry, why haven’t you told anyone?” Ron demanded angrily.

“I’m a _what_?” Harry asked in shock.

“You can talk to snakes,” Hermione clarified.

“It’s really, really rare,” Neville mumbled.

“He’s been able to his whole life,” I clarified, looking at them in confusion, “I mean, we’ve known about it and we knew none of the rest of the people in our family could, so we just agreed to not mention it… it’s saved our skins many times in the forest outside of our house…”

“This is really bad,” Ron groaned.

“Why is it so horrible? If I hadn’t told that snake not to attack Justin…”

“Harry, I told you, it never sounds like what you think it sounds,” I insisted, “It sounded like you were egging the snake on.”

“I don’t know _how_ I speak it or even what it sounds like…” Harry groaned.

“But it’s so bad, Harry,” Hermione sighed.

“If I hadn’t, Justin would be joining the Headless Hunt right now and…”

“Look, it’s bad because being a parselmouth is what Salazar Slytherin is _famous for_. He could speak to snakes, too. And now everyone in the school is going to think you’re his descendant,” Hermione explained calmly, though her voice was still a little shaky.

“But… but I’m _not_ ,” Harry insisted.

“He lived a thousand years ago,” Hermione murmured, “For all we know, you could be.”

Neville looked fearfully at Harry, a facial expression I hadn’t seen on his face in a while.

“Look, even if Harry is the heir,” I snapped angrily, “We all know he isn’t doing this to students.”

“Of course not,” Hermione, Ron, and Neville said in unison.

“Then shut up. Ron, go do some damage control with the Gryffindors. Guys, let’s go,” I grabbed Harry, Neville and Hermione and dragged them to the bathroom.

“Hermione, we have to get going on this potion. Brew,” I ordered calmly. Neville and Harry looked at me in amazement.

“We have to find out who is bloody doing this before there’s a figurative witchhunt for Harry,” I snapped, “Any objections?”

They both shook their heads and I sat on the floor of the bathroom, staring at the goop pensively.

“Probably should have told us about the talking to snakes thing,” Hermione sighed, stirring the cauldron carefully.

“I have a lot of trouble telling people things I’m ashamed of,” Harry responded, and from his tone of voice I knew that he had more secrets than I could even imagine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys liked this chapter! Please please please let m know what you think! Seriously! Thanks!


	13. Chapter Twelve: The Christmas Holidays – February, 1992 – 1993, Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Discord, I'm howling at the moon
> 
> And sleeping in the middle of a summer afternoon
> 
> Discord, whatever did we do
> 
> To make you take our world away? 
> 
> Discord are we your prey alone? 
> 
> Or are we just a stepping stone for taking back the throne?
> 
> Discord, we won't take it anymore,
> 
> So take your tyranny away!" 
> 
> ~ Eurobeat Brony, "Discord"

Chapter Twelve: The Christmas Holidays – February, 1992 – 1993, Hogwarts

The last day of classes for the term, Herbology class was canceled. I spent the day in the Common Room, waving my wand above my head and making a little origami dragon fly around. Hermione was studying for some class and Neville was napping against the back of his chair. Harry had run off to go and confront Justin, to try and reassure him that he was telling the snake to leave Justin alone.

“Are you OK, Hermione?” I asked quietly once Harry had gone. She looked up in surprise at my question and responded, “Shouldn’t we be more worried about Harry at this point?”

“Well, yeah, but he’s not here,” I responded delicately, “I mean, to find out your friend is a parsel-whatsit…”

“Parselmouth,” Hermione corrected automatically, “And don’t worry, Harry’s a good person. The only reason parseltongue has such a stigma is because it’s usually dark wizards who can do it. But I know Harry ‘pretty damn well,’ as _you_ would say,” I laughed at this, “And he’s not a bad person, no matter what sort of creature he can talk to.”

I beamed at her and turned back to my work, before looking up again, “I wonder, what would make you change your tune about Harry? I mean, what would be the _last_ straw?”

Hermione frowned, contemplating her answer. “What about you?” she asked me in order to stall.

“He’d have to kill someone who didn’t deserve it,” I responded softly, “Hurt someone dreadfully who didn’t deserve it.”

“Why would they deserve it?” Hermione furthered.

“Because that person has already hurt someone else, dreadfully, or killed someone else. And I should clarify – he also has to get some sort of malicious pleasure out of it. If he’s really sorry, then I’ll forgive him,” I smiled a little, “He’s my best friend, he’s my brother.”

Hermione nodded and sat back, “Then that’s my answer, too. He has to hurt someone horrifically, who doesn’t really deserve it, and be happy about what he’s done.” 

I looked up to see Fred and George approaching me and, glad to end this rather depressing conversation, jumped up eagerly. They smiled at me in response.

“How’s it going, Maggie?” Fred asked, sitting down on the floor next to my chair. George followed suit and waved his wand so my origami dragon would come and land on top of his head.

“Alright,” I sighed, “The whole mess with Harry and the snake is nerve-wracking.”

“If anyone thinks Harry’s the heir of Slytherin they’re mental,” George shook his head, “You have nothing to worry about.”

“Then a good portion of the school is mental,” I snapped, “I overheard some Hufflepuffs talking and…”

“The only people who think he’s the heir are people who are in Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and a small scattering of very naïve Gryffindors. Most of the Gryffindors and all of the Slytherins would never believe him to be the heir, because the Gryfindors are in their right minds and the Slytherins wouldn’t want Harry to be their heir anyway,” Fred laughed.

“Fair enough,” I sighed, “I assume there’s a reason you two came over here?”

“Well, to be honest, we’re here to ask a favor,” George paused.

“You see, Ginny’s still fairly under the weather,” Fred continued.

“Acting strange, in the end, she barely talks and she usually won’t shut up,” George agreed.

“She’s pale all the time and always rather jumpy,” Fred shook his head in sadness.

“And, well, she won’t talk to any of _us_ , meaning me, or Fred, or Percy, or Ron,” George explained.

“And we were thinking it might be a girl problem, so she wouldn’t want to talk to _us_ about it,” Fred sighed.

“So we were hoping you could do it,” George paused, “If you don’t mind.”

“Why me?” I laughed a little, “I’m the least girly girl in the world.”

“First off, that’s an exaggeration,” George grinned cheekily. I stuck my tongue out at him in annoyance.

“Second off, you two get along well,” Fred continued with an eye roll.

“Third off, you’re a good role model for her, we reckon,” George nodded fervently.

“Fourth off, she’s not exactly the model for weak, damsel in distress femininity either,” Fred laughed.

“Fifth off, when you talked to her before in October you seemed to cheer her up a lot,” George explained.

“Sixth off, you’re Harry Potter’s adopted sister, which might make her listen to you if only for the promise of an autograph,” Fred chortled.

“Seventh off, you’re our only female friend close to her in age – Alicia, Angelina and Katie are all significantly older than her enough to create an age gap,” George finished.

I looked at the pair of them, shaking my head wordlessly before responding, “Alright, alright. I’ll talk to you sister. Do you know where she is? I have some ideas of what to do.”

“She’s in her dormitory, which you can obviously get to. We, however, cannot,” Fred rolled his eyes.

I nodded and walked up to my own dormitory first, grabbing my bow and arrows and pouring some food into Albus’ cage. I then walked down to the first years’ dorm and rapped on the wood with my knuckles.

“Hey, Ginny? You there? It’s Maggie,” I called.

The door opened a crack and I saw a young, freckled face peep out. She looked up at me and mumbled, “Yeah?”

“Want to come on an adventure? It’ll be fun,” I offered.

Ginny opened the door wider, revealing herself to be in her pajamas, “Why?”

“Because, you look under the weather and I wanted to cheer you up,” I explained cheerfully.

Ginny managed a weak smile before responding, “I’m actually in the… erm… middle of something right now. Can we do it tomorrow?”

“Sure,” I frowned, “What are you in the middle of?”

“I’m writing in my diary,” Ginny blushed furiously, “And I’m feeling ill, so I was just going to take a nap when I was done.”

“Oh, well, then that’s fine. Tomorrow, be prepared for some archery adventures,” I held up the bow and smiled at her, going back up to my dormitory to put away the bow and arrows. I then headed back down to the Common Room.

Fred and George looked annoyed that I had come back down without Ginny.

“She wanted to nap, so we’re going to go shoot some targets tomorrow and talk about life. Happy?” I rolled my eyes and sat back next to Hermione.

“Fine, fine,” Fred waved it off and I continued to study for a while with Hermione. At one point, Ginny came down from the dormitory and walked straight past us all, seemingly transfixed on something. Hermione and I exchanged glances and frowned at each other in confusion. Ginny, though always looking ill, never looked like she wasn’t even focusing on her surroundings. But neither of us decided to get up and do anything as I read my book about British dragons and how the Hebridean Black would often pick territorial fights with large magical creatures in their native habitats of thick woods and coastal forests.

After a while, there could be a great commotion heard in the corridors. The Gryffindors all looked at each other and didn’t seem to know what to make of the noise, but we all rushed out to the source of it together. Hermione and I came up upon the scene of Justin Finch-Fletchley, lying on the floor, looking shocked and his eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. Next to him was Nearly Headless Nick, looking black and smoky, floating immobile and horizontal six inches off the floor. He looked just as shocked as Justin. Harry was pinned to the side of the wall and it seemed the entire student body was staring at him accusingly. Peeves overhead was singing, “ _Oh Potter, you rotter, oh what have you done. You’re killing off students, you think it’s good fun –“_

Professor McGonagall ordered the poltergeist to shut it and ordered all the students away. Hermione and I looked at Harry in deep concern as we were shepherded along, him meeting our gaze with terror in his eyes as we went up to the Common Room.

“Talk about the wrong place at the wrong time,” I muttered under my breath as we reached the Common Room. I watched Ginny going up the stairs, looking even sicker than ever.

“It’s completely horrible. Now _everyone_ is going to think it’s him,” Hermione groaned.

“There’s no way to prove it isn’t other than our word that he wouldn’t do such a thing… and our word is going to matter less and less over time,” I whispered as we sat near the fire, crowding together anxiously.

“Maybe I could find a way to get myself petrified? I mean, I _am_ a muggle-born, but I’m best friends with Harry, no one would believe that he attacked _me_ …” Hermione suggested.

“Absolutely not,” I responded firmly, “That’s completely out of the question.”

“Oh what, _you’re_ allowed to sacrifice yourself on a chess board but when _I_ suggest it…” Hermione hissed.

“Hermione, there’s a difference between that and this. I was sacrificing myself so we could stop Voldemort. You’re just trying to protect Harry’s reputation – it won’t _actually_ solve anything and you could even be killed,” I groaned. She glared for a moment but I could see in her eyes she knew I was right.

Harry returned to the Common Room, explaining how Dumbledore did not think it was him, causing the relief of Hermione, Neville and I. In the wake of the attacks, most all the students rushed to leave the castle for the holidays, terrified of something that could hurt even a ghost.

The first day of the holidays, the day after the double attack, Ginny and I headed out to the grounds by Hagrid’s house to shoot. I had become quite adept at it by this point and could now hit very slowly moving targets perfectly almost every time.

“Now, you’ve got to put your index finger and your middle finger like _so_ ,” I instructed, helping Ginny notch the arrow properly and helping her aim it at the target.

“How far back should I draw it?” she asked, clearly concentrating on this hard. Too hard, it occurred to me; she must have been trying desperately to distract herself from something.

“The farther you go back, the longer the distance you’ll shoot. Now, with this, it won’t hurt to make the string nice and taught; unless you aim terribly, the arrow will hit the target before it goes too far,” I explained.

Ginny nodded and pulled back the string as far as her tiny arms could muster before letting go. It flew up, up, into the air and hit the trunk of the tree high above the target.

“Well… at least you managed to hit something and I don’t have to go on an exploration mission,” I offered. Ginny rolled her eyes as I ran up to the tree, climbed up to the arrow and pulled it down. I walked back over to her and handed her the arrow, instructing her to try again.

“So why have you been so out of sorts, Ginny? Is first year really not treating you well?” I asked her calmly as she shot another arrow that actually hit the very outer edge of the target.

“I’ve just been… feeling funny. Not so much sick as… funny,” Ginny offered, very reluctantly.

“Why? Do you have any idea?” I asked, showing her real concern in my facial expression.

“No, I’ll just… I dunno… zone out for long periods of time. I will really not remember what I’ve been doing,” Ginny looked rather defeated, “It’s scaring me.”

“Do you do anything before these zoning-out times? Like, is there a pattern as to the events that led up to it?” I offered, my concern growing exponentially. I honestly was ashamed of myself that I hadn’t thought to check up on Ginny myself, and that I had to be spurred by the fairly obtuse twins.

“Well… there are a few things…” Ginny admitted, clearly not wanting to tell me them as she shot a few more arrows.

“Well then, cut down on those activities, or chuck them out completely,” I ordered, “Everyone’s worried about you. I was told a lot about you, you know, by the twins, and you aren’t nearly as hyper and witty as they claimed.”

Ginny laughed weakly, “I know, I know I’ve been acting really weird, I just… I need to get a hold back on my life.”

“Well then, if there is _anything_ I can do to help, please don’t hesitate to ask,” I smiled warmly as she shot an arrow that got close to the bulls’ eye.

“Thanks, Maggie,” Ginny smiled a little. She continued to shoot arrows as I encouraged her warmly.

“So, you have a crush on my brother?” I asked cheerfully as I walked over to the target. When I turned to look at her she was completely flushed, and steam was practically coming out of her ears.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” I laughed cheekily and she stuck her tongue out at me.

“ _There’s_ the proper Weasley attitude!” I cheered as she rolled her eyes.

That very day I suggested to Hagrid that he get Ginny the same present he had gotten me the last year, and I was pleased to find out that Christmas day that he did in fact carve her a set of her very own arrows and a bow. The only people in the Gryffindor tower were Harry, Hermione, Ron, Fred, George, Ginny, Neville, and me. There weren’t very many other people anywhere, and the only Slytherins remaining were Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle.

Christmas morning I awoke to Hermione pulling back the blinds on my four-poster, demanding that I get up and pouring presents on my bed. She was already fully dressed and fully awake.

“Hermione Granger, I hate you,” I groaned, rolling over in my bed.

“Merry Christmas to you too,” she rolled her eyes, “Open your presents, I’ve been up for nearly an hour, adding more lacewings to the potion. It’s ready. We’ve got to go tell Harry and Neville and we can’t do that until you’ve woken up.”

I looked at her in amazement, sitting up in bed eagerly, “Really? It’s done?”

“Yes,” Hermione nodded, “If we’re going to do it, I say it should be tonight.”

“Alright,” I sighed, “You’d better go get the boys up. I’ll open my presents.”

Hermione beamed and went out of the dormitory. From my parents I had received a book on Hebridean Blacks in the Scottish mainland and how to find them – something Harry would probably get mad at them for sending me. Harry himself had given me a make-your-own filibuster fireworks kit, something that Fred and George would definitely have appreciated. Hermione got me a transfiguration log, to track my progress in different complex transfigurations and in my experiments with the subject. Hagrid got me enough fudge for a lifetime. Fred and George themselves sent me another hair dye kit, which I looked forward to using, as well as a singing frog that would follow around my enemy singing some of the most annoying muggle songs ever imagined and wouldn’t leave them alone until the charm wore off (usually in 2-3 months.) Elena sent me a small book on magical spiders, which I had a funny feeling was more a cruel prank in the wake of my spider attack (which I had told her about, of course) than anything else. Neville sent me a large and elaborate flowering plant, which would occasionally sprout fangs if provoked specifically by spiders larger than the size of a Knut. Finally, Professor Snape sent me a box of Cauldron Cakes.

Once I had finished opening all my presents I rushed down to the Common Room to greet Harry, who confessed to loving the book I had gotten him on defensive magic, and Neville, who was pleased at my gift of an elaborately flowering plant that had more colors than could be perceived by the human eye.

We headed to the Great Hall, eating and drinking merrily amongst the frost-covered Christmas trees and the holly and mistletoe. Dumbledore lead us in carols, with the drunker teachers joining in at the top of their lungs.

As I piled more Christmas cookies joyfully onto my plate, Hermione leaned across to Harry and Neville.

“You still need a bit of the person you’re changing into. It’ll be best if you can get something of Crabbe or Goyle’s. And we have to make sure both the real Crabbe and Goyle can’t burst in on us while we’re interrogating him,” she explained. Harry looked at her incredulously as she continued. Neville merely looked apprehensive.

“I’ve got it all worked out,” she held out two chocolate caked, “I’ve filled these with a simple Sleeping Draught. All you have to do is make sure Carbbe and Goyle find them. Once they’re asleep, pull out a few of their hairs and hide them in a broom closet.”

“And what about you two?” Harry demanded irritably, “Whose hair are you ripping out, then?”

“I’ve already got mine, and so’s Maggie. I plucked a hair off of Millicent Bulstrode’s robes at the Dueling Club, and Maggie literally pulled a hair off of Pansy Parkinson’s head. So we’ll just say we’ve decided to come back for Christmas,” Hermione explained.

I grimaced, “So many things could go wrong, it’s horrifying.”

Hermione and I headed back to Myrtle’s bathroom to wait for Harry and Neville. Hermione had four glasses and looked down at the mud like potion nervously.

“I think I’ve done everything right…” she whispered.

“If anyone did, it’s you,” I reassured as Harry and Neville came running in, brandishing a hair and declaring, “I shall now become Goyle, and Neville shall be Crabbe.”

“It’s my worst nightmare,” Neville blanched.

“Excellent. I’ll separate it into the glasses and we’ll add the hairs, and we’ll have exactly an hour before we change back,” Hermione explained as we all changed into Slytherin robes. She dumped the glop into each glass with a ladle and handed one to each of us. Hermione added her hair to the potion and it turned a sickly yellow. I followed suit and the potion turned a horrific, vomit green color. Harry’s also did so and it turned into a khaki, booger tinged. Neville’s was a dark, murky brown.

“Alright, we better separate. Goyle, Crabbe and Bulstrode aren’t going to fit in this stall,” I sighed. I went into a separate stall, pinched my nose, and managed to down the disgusting potion. I nearly threw up almost immediately into the toilet, but instead held onto it tightly as I felt like all my insides had turned into snakes and were thrashing around inside of me; violently trying to get out, and everything began to feel like it was melting off my face.

And then, suddenly, it was over. I stood up and felt instantly smaller – almost anorexically thin, with no breasts or hips to speak of. Pansy must not have even begun puberty, or was starving herself or _something_. Her hair was much, _much_ thinner and much, _much_ shorter and I just felt more angular all around. I exited the stall and slowly walked over to a mirror. Her pug face stared back at me, causing a loathing to rise up in my throat. She was so much tinier than me, both in terms of fat and muscle, and her face was sharp and defined in an ugly and unforgiving way. Her eyes were a dull brown that made me blanch as I looked at myself, her skin more tanned than Harry’s but also much lighter than mine, closer in color to Hermione’s. Her hair, short and thin, was black and whsipy. I had never thought myself vain before this moment, but I realized then that, for all its faults, I preferred my round face, curves, dark skin, immense amount of hair, and green eyes. It made me seem like a softer person than this.

Well, as soft as _I_ could ever seem.

“Is everyone okay?” I heard the low raspy voice of Goyle call out.

“Yes,” I responded in the very cruel, high pitched voice of Pansy Parkinson. A door unlocked and I watched as Goyle came out of the stall and came to look at a mirror. He was staring at it in shock and turned to look at me with a similar expression. Crabbe also came out, his shoulders hunched like Neville did, which made him look more like a gorilla than ever. Crabbe also looked like he wanted to throw up.

“This is… insane,” I whispered.

“We’d better get going,” Harry groaned, “We’ve still got to find where the Slytherin common room is. I only hope we can find someone to follow…”

I shook my head, “Wow. Just wow. It’s so strange to see Goyle piecing together thought.” I went to Hermione’s door and banged on it, shouting for us to leave.

“I – I don’t think I’m going to come after all. You three go on without me,” Hermione insisted in a very, _very_ high pitched voice.

“Hermione, we know Millicent Bulstrode’s ugly, no one’s going to know it’s you…” I sighed.

“No – really – I don’t think I’ll come. You two hurry up, you’re wasting time –“ Hermione insisted.

Harry looked at me in confusion that was definitely more the expression of Goyle.

“Hermione, are you okay?” Harry murmured very softly. It was the strangest voice I had ever heard him use.

“Fine – I’m fine – go on,” Hermione insisted.

“Hermione, we can’t go without you,” Neville, looking nothing like Crabbe and yet everything like Crabbe, asked kindly.

“ _Go!_ ” Hermione shrieked.

Harry sighed and we all left, me trying to walk in a more ladylike and feminine fashion, Harry trying to walk more stiff and thug like, and Neville trying to walk more confidently as we headed towards the dungeons, where we hypothesized the common room might be.

A girl with very long curly hair emerged and I was about to ask where the common room was when I saw she was a Ravenclaw. We continued on to the dungeons through the deserted corridors, feeling more and more discouraged by the moment. We saw another student coming around the corner and rushed forward eagerly just to see it was Percy Weasley.

We all exchanged looks and walked right past him in disappointment.

“Get off to your dormitories,” he ordered sternly, “It’s not safe to go wandering around dark corridors these days.” None of us had even said anything.

“There you are, Goyle, Crabbe!” I heard a voice call. We both spun around to see Malfoy walking towards us, strutting as he usually did, “And Parkinson, I didn’t know you were coming back – what a pleasant surprise!”

I smiled weakly before realizing that was out of character, changing my facial expression back to stern, and nodding.

“Excellent. I’ve been looking everywhere for you two. Bet you were stuffing your faces in the kitchens again,” Malfoy laughed.

Malfoy looked over at Percy scathingly, “And what’re you doing down here, Weasley?”

Percy looked horrified as he responded, “You want to show a bit more respect to a school prefect! I don’t like your attitude!”

Malfoy sneered and motioned for us to follow him as we continued down the corridors. He began speaking again, stating, “That Peter Weasley -“

I was about to correct him, but I realized that wouldn’t make any sense. Still, I managed to turn the phrase into one that Pansy would say, “I think his foul parents named him something more pretentious than that. Perry? Percy?”

“Whatever. I’ve noticed him sneaking around a lot lately. And I bet I know what he’s up to. He thinks he’s going to catch Slytherin’s heir single-handed,” Malfoy laughed shortly.

I raised my eyebrows at Harry and Neville in silent excitement as we stopped in front of a bare, damp stone wall.

“Parkinson, what’s the new password?” Malfoy asked.

“Um…” I paused, feeling color rise to my cheeks.

“Oh, yeah, _pure blood_!” Malfoy declared, and a stone door concealed in the wall slid open. Malfoy marched through it and we followed dutifully.

The common room was much, much too damp for my tastes. Everything was green, dark and flickering in the light of the fire.

“Let’s sit down here,” Malfoy gestured to some chairs as we all sat around them, “It’s quite nice to not have to worry about the older students taking the good chairs.”

I nodded weakly in agreement.

“Something bothering you, Parkinson?” Malfoy asked me, “Feeling ill?”

“Ran… Ran into that Johnson girl on the stairs,” I quickly made up.

“Ah, of course. She makes everyone ill,” Malfoy laughed scathingly, “Acting like the Queen of the castle with those Weasley twins and Potter and the Mudblood and the disgrace to the name of wizard, Longbottom. And who can stand to have such… _native_ filth in the castle? She acts like the savage she is!”

Harry’s grip on his armchair tightened and Malfoy noticed. Neville’s hands clenched into fists, but I managed to stay in character (somehow) by laughing cruelly.

“You too, Goyle and Crabbe? You both usually have a strong stomach for Johnson’s idiocy,” Malfoy raised an eyebrow.

“Not today, must have eaten too much,” Harry managed to grunt.

“Think there was something bad in the pudding,” Neville agreed.

“Well, go up to the hospital wing and give all those Mudbloods a kick from me,” Malfoy sniggered, “You know, I’m surprised the _Daily Prophet_ hasn’t reported all these attacks yet… I suppose Dumbledore’s trying to hush it all up. He’ll be sacked if it doesn’t stop soon. Father’s always said old Dumbledore’s the worst thing that’s ever happened to this place. He loves Muggle-borns. A decent headmaster would never’ve let slime like that Creevey in.”

Malfoy stood up and began to imitate Colin with his camera, saying in a high-pitched voice, “Potter, can I have your picture, Potter? Can I have your autograph? Can I lick your shoes, please, Potter?”

He looked at us not laughing at his imitation and snapped, “What’s the _matter_ with you three?”

We forced ourselves to laugh and Malfoy shrugged, continuing on, “Saint Potter, the Mudbloods’ friend. He’s another one with no proper wizard feeling, or he wouldn’t go around with that jumped up Granger Mudblood. And people think _he’s_ Slytherin’s heir!”

I looked at the lads out of the corner of my eye eagerly, waiting for Malfoy’s next statement –

“I _wish_ I knew who it _is_ ,” Malfoy sighed dramatically, “I could help them.”

I felt my eyes widen and Harry quickly asked, “You must have some idea who’s behind it all…”

“You know I haven’t, Goyle, how many times do I have to tell you? And Father won’t tell me _anything_ about the last time the Chamber was opened either. Of course, it was fifty years ago, so it was before his time, but he knows all about it, and he says that it was kept quiet and it’ll look suspicious if I know too much about it. But I know one thing – last time the Chamber of Secrets was opened, a Mudblood _died_. So I bet it’s a matter of time before one of them’s killed this time… I hope its Granger,” he finished with relish.

Harry’s fists clenched at his side again and I had to interject before he punched Malfoy quite out of character. Neville’s jaw was clenched angrily but I could tell he was keeping track of the time, and getting nervous.

“Was the person who opened it last time, you know, caught?” I asked.

“Oh yeah… whoever it was was expelled,” Malfoy explained, “They’re probably still in Azkaban.”

I’d have to ask about Azkaban later – Parkinson was pureblood and if I didn’t know what it was Malfoy would be suspicious.

“Father says to keep my head down and let the Heir of Slytherin get on with it. He says the school needs ridding of all the Mudblood filth, but not to get mixed up in it. Of course, he’s got a lot on his plate at the moment. You know the Ministry of Magic raided our manor last week?” Malfoy continued.

I tried to look concerned. Harry was still furious, but managed to mask it behind a look of idiocy.

“How annoying,” Neville stated dully, trying to act as dumb as possible.

“Yeah… Luckily, they didn’t find much. Father’s got some _very_ valuable Dark Arts stuff. But luckily, we’ve got our own secret chamber under the drawing-room floor…” Malfoy continued.

I looked over at Harry and felt my eyes widen. His hair was getting darker and messier by the second and I think I saw his eyes turning green. Neville’s hair was, conversely, getting lighter, and he seemed to be shrinking in size.

I jumped to my feet just as they did – I must have been changing, back, too. No lie, I felt my breasts growing quite rapidly.

“Medicine for my stomach,” Harry grunted and we sprinted through he common room and dashed away, hoping Malfoy hadn’t noticed anything. We finally reached Myrtle’s bathroom, panting, changed back into ourselves.

“Well, it wasn’t a complete waste of time,” Harry sighed, “I know we still haven’t found out who’s doing the attacks, but I’m going to tell Ron about the Malfoy’s drawing room so his dad can get whatever’s underneath it.”

“One of these days, I’m going to sic a plant on Malfoy, mark my words,” Neville grunted, vomiting into a sink, “Good lord that was an ordeal.”

I walked over to Hermione’s stall as Harry put on his glasses, hammering the door and shouting, “Hermione, we’ve got loads to tell you…”

“Go away!” Hermione squeaked.

I looked at Harry and Neville with my eyebrows raised.

“What’s the matter?” I asked, “We’re all back to normal now…”

Moaning Myrtle came to us with a gleeful expression.

“Oh, wait till you see,” she cheered, “It’s _awful –_ “

We stepped back as the stall door opened and Hermione emerged with her robes pulled over her head.

“What is it?” I asked in concern.

Hermione let the robes fall and we jumped back in complete shock.

Her face was covered in black fur, her eyes had turned yellow, there were pointed ears poking through her hair and I saw her robes were sticking up awkwardly from her back – she had a _tail_.

“It was c-cat hair!” Hermione cried, “Bulstrode m-must have a cat! And the p-potion isn’t supposed to be for animal transformations!”

“Oh _no_ ,” Neville groaned.

“You’ll be teased something _dreadful_ ,” Myrtle cheered.

“It’s okay, Hermione,” I reassured, “Madam Pomfrey never asks too many questions, so we’ll bring you to the Hospital Wing.”

It took a long time for us to help her through the corridors, and we were very careful doing so as it was the middle of the night. However, we eventually managed to get to the Hospital wing, where Pomfrey reassured she could change her back; it would just take a little over a month.

I spent the rest of the holidays pulling pranks on Malfoy with Fred and George – dying his hair a lovely puke green this time, causing him to scream out against us and go running through the corridors in tears. He was literally so distraught he was given a calming draught by Professor Snape – well, force-fed one actually. Once the potion wore off, we then had the pleasure of causing a pack of fireworks to follow him and explode in his ears all throughout New Year’s Day, causing him to scream at random intervals and making all of the Gryffindors (and some of the teachers) snicker. Unfortunately, Snape pulled me aside and begged me to stop torturing the kid before someone went deaf, so we stopped the shenanigans.

I also spent a good deal of time helping Ginny learn to archer, and she looked a little bit healthier because of it. I was truly hoping for real improvement.

When term resumed, the entire school was convinced that Hermione had been attacked and tried to see her, so that Pomfrey had to give her extra privacy with drapes. Hermione kept up with her schoolwork through my, Neville and Harry’s help, more cheerful with each human feature that reappeared on her face.

As we came back from the Hospital Wing, we passed by Myrtle’s bathroom and heard Filch grumbling, hissing “ _even more work for me! Mopping all night, like I haven’t got enough to do! No, this is the final straw, I’m going to Dumbledore…_ ”

We exchanged glances and ran to the bathroom, where we saw that a great flood of water had soaked the corridor, and looked to still be coming up from the bathroom.

“Let’s go look,” I groaned, dragging Harry by the wrist back into that too-much-visited toilet. We went inside and saw that myrtle was crying louder and harder than ever before. She was hiding in the toilet and literally screaming with sobs.

“Myrtle, what’s wrong?” Neville asked kindly, walking over to the stall through the endless water.

“Who’s that?” Myrtle moaned, “Come to throw something else at me?”

I waded through the water with Harry as he responded, “Why would one of us throw something at you?”

“Don’t ask me,” Myrtle shouted, floating up to the air and causing more water to appear, “Here I am, minding my own business, and someone thinks it’s funny to throw a book at me….”

“But if someone throws something at you, wouldn’t it just go right through you?” I asked curiously, “Not like it’ll hurt or anythin’!”

Myrtle seemed even more upset as she shrieked, “Sure, let’s all throw books at Myrtle because _she_ can’t feel it! Ten points if you can get it through her stomach! Fifty points if it goes through her head! Well ha, ha, ha! What a lovely game, I _don’t_ think!”

“Who threw it at you, anyway?” Harry interjected.

“ _I_ don’t know… I was just sitting in the U-bend, thinking about death, and it fell right through the top of my head,” Myrtle glared, “It’s over there, it got washed out…”

We looked over at the sink where a small, think book lay. It had a shabby black cover and was soaking. Harry picked it up and frowned at it with me. He opened it, where the name T. M. Riddle was written on the first page. 

“I know that name!” I gasped, “T. M. Riddle got an award for special services to the school fifty years ago.”

“Why do you even know that?” Harry asked in amazement.

“Because Filch made me polish his shield much too much in detention – I got it into the cleaner and so then I had to scrub off the mess with steel wool,” I groaned, “It was _horrible_.”

Harry looked through all the pages. They were completely blank, no smudges or anything.

“He never wrote in it,” Harry frowned.

“Why would someone flush it away, then?” Neville asked.

Harry turned to the back cover and read the name of a variety store on Vauxhall Road, London.

“He must have been muggle-born,” Harry paused, “To have bought a diary from Vauxhall Road…”

“It seems rather useless, Harry,” I shook my head, “You should just chuck it.”

He pocketed the book, however, and we left the bathroom with even more confusion.

I then left their company to go to Snape’s office for tea, as per usual on Monday afternoons. Harry was going to go spend some time with Hermione in my absence, and Neville was going to the greenhouses again as I reached the dungeons and entered Snape’s office calmly.

“Ah, Miss Johnson,” he nodded, “Sit down.”

I did so, taking the usual mug set out in front of me, already with two sugars mixed in. Snape began sipping his own tea as I took a biscuit from the plate and munched on it happily.

“How were your holidays?” Snape asked calmly. I almost felt like barking out a laugh and saying _well, Hermione brewed this impossible potion to make that allowed me to change into Pansy Parkinson and Harry to change into Goyle and Neville into Crabbe so we impersonated Slytherins, snuck into their common room, and questioned Malfoy whether he was the heir of Slytherin_. But I knew Snape wouldn’t appreciate this story, so I answered, “Pretty quiet.”

“Really? With Granger, turning into a cat?” Snape raised an eyebrow.

I shrugged innocently, “She was pranked by some Slytherins. It was quite awful, really.”

“It looks,” Snape paused, “Like she took polyjuice potion, but with a cat hair added.”

I didn’t miss a beat when I answered, “Malfoy or someone must have gotten some older Slytherins to brew it, and then added cat hair because he knew this would happen.”

Snape looked at me skeptically but decided to not press the issue and sipped some tea. I knew, as much as he loathed Harry, ridiculed Neville and was irritated on a constant basis by Hermione, he didn’t really feel like getting me into trouble for something I’d gotten away with. I didn’t approve of his blatant favoritism, but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t keep taking advantage of it.

After he sipped some more of his tea he put down the mug and frowned at me again, “Why did you never tell me that your adopted brother could speak to snakes?”

I almost dropped my mug, “Why… Why do you care?”

“Because it’s… well,” Snape paused, clearly thinking hard, “It’s not something viewed positively by the public, and I could have prevented the dueling incident from occurring.”

“Well, you instigated it, and now everyone thinks Harry’s the heir,” I frowned in annoyance.

“He’s obviously not,” Snape snapped before sighing and continuing, “Well. It means I underestimated Mr. Potter.”

I looked at him in pure confusion, “What… do you mean?”

“Miss Johnson,” Snape looked over at me almost sternly, “One day, the Dark Lord will return. You are aware of this as much as anyone.”

“Painfully aware, I might add,” I grimaced.

Snape looked at me, seemingly sizing me up, before continuing, “When that day comes, Harry Potter is the only one who can stop him.”

I felt my eyes widen, “Surely not the _only_ -“

“The _only one_ ,” Snape frowned, “You can’t be surprised by this, given the events of last year, and when he was a baby.”

I thought back and shook my head.

“Dumbledore does not wish for him to know this yet. He is still too young. Come to think of it, he will be upset that I even told _you_ , given how tied you are to him and how close and how you, too, are still very young. But he didn’t order me not to tell you and I don’t believe in shielding people from the cold, hard, truth,” Snape explained further, “If you tell Potter, I’ll wring your neck.”

I nodded weakly and asked, “But how does his being a parselmouth mean you’ve underestimated him?”

“Because the Dark Lord is a parselmouth,” Snape murmured, “And any dark power, even an accidental one, can only help Mr. Potter.”

I finished my tea in silence and walked back to the Common Room. He was right – I _was_ too young to know about this.

 _I pretend and I pretend and I pretend to be an adult_ , I thought in almost an emotionless way as I went up the staircases, _I swear and I go on adventures and I think I’m making tough choices, choices that adults would make. But even if I am, I’m still a kid. I’m still a kid who doesn’t want to deal with the fact that her brother has one of the greatest burdens in all of history._

I entered the Common Room and saw Harry sitting at a table, who instantly beamed at me. I managed to smile back, but all I wanted to do was cry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, I'd love to know what you guys think! Thanks!


	14. Chapter Thirteen: February - May 8, 1993, Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "But the world is black 
> 
>    
> And hearts are cold  
>  
> 
> And there's no hope
> 
>    
> That's what we're told  
>  
> 
> And we can't go back  
>  
> 
> It won't be the same  
>  
> 
> Forever changed  
>  
> 
> By the things we've seen"  
>  
> 
> ~ Good Charlotte, "The World is Black"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Trigger Warning: Some slight biphobia, transphobia, etc. The characters at this point have yet to really learn about queer identities other than gay/lesbian. That doesn't excuse it much, but it is why I had to put the language in. Sorry about that! It starts at "Anyways, you're a bit smaller than us, so it might have done more to you," a line said by George.)

Chapter Thirteen: February – May 8, 1993, Hogwarts

Hermione finally left the Hospital Wing at the beginning of February, soon after I had learned of my brother’s future fate. Harry immediately showed her the wordless diary, and got fairly excited.

“Ooh, it might have hidden powers,” Hermione declared, looking closely at the diary.

“The hidden power of doing absolutely nothing,” I stated dully. Harry looked at me in mild concern and I rolled my eyes in response. Faking enthusiasm wasn’t really in my repertoire of emotions at the moment, and I didn’t even want to bother having to lie to Harry about it. I was stuck in a cycle of despair inside my head.

“You should just throw it out,” I continued, “It’s of no use in the slightest.” _And to be frank, for some reason it gives me the creeps. I mean, everything nowadays gives me the creeps, but that does too. I can’t explain it but it does._

“Not to mention, it seems dodgy,” Neville commented, echoing my thoughts.

“I wish I knew why someone _did_ try to throw it out,” Harry shook his head in confusion, “I wouldn’t mind knowing how Riddle got an award for special services to Hogwarts, either.”

“Could’ve been anything,” I rolled my eyes, “Maybe he got twenty O.W.L.s or became an animagus or murdered Myrtle to save the school from her whining or something.”

Hermione and Harry shared very significant looks and I suddenly realized with them. Neville looked at us all in confusion.

“Wait… or maybe he caught the Heir of Slytherin fifty years ago…” I whispered. Both Hermione and Harry nodded eagerly in agreement and Neville’s mouth hung open in an “O” shape.

“His diary would probably tell us everything!” Hermione gasped eagerly, “Where the Chamber is, how to open it, the creature, everything! And whoever is behind the attacks now _wouldn’t_ want the diary lying around!”

“The only problem is is that there’s _nothing written in the diary_ ,” I insisted in annoyance.

Hermione pulled out her wand and frowned at the little book, “It might be invisible ink!” She tapped the diary with her wand three times and murmured, “ _Aparecium!_ ” But nothing happened. Hermione seemed undeterred and she pulled out a bright red eraser from her bag.

“It’s a Revealer, I got it in Diagon Alley,” Hermione explained as she rubbed hard on January first, but nothing happened.

“Riddle just got a diary and didn’t want to write in it, like any normal teenage boy,” I rolled my eyes, “I wouldn’t have had the patience either.”

But Harry still didn’t throw away the diary, and as the days dragged on I remained in my strange depression. I sat by the fire, doing my homework lazily, ignoring requests to go on adventures from the twins or to go to the greenhouses with Neville, to shoot arrows with Ginny or to explore the library with Hermione. Harry didn’t have many requests of me; he simply spent endless time just thumbing through the pages of the diary whilst I stared off into the fire.

There hadn’t been any attacks for a long time, and everyone in the castle seemed to be in a better mood as a result. Ginny herself looked a lot more healthy and cheerful during the day, much to the relief of Fred and George.

“But she’s passed on the gloominess disease to _you_ ,” George muttered irritably as I sat at a table and doodled wordlessly on a piece of paper. I simply shrugged in response and continued to draw the rather depressing landscape I had envisioned of a dying stag. I don’t know, precisely, why I was drawing it, but for some reason the image just imprinted itself in my head and didn’t let go.

Fred looked over my shoulder rather invasively, “Well, she seems to be drawing the death of Prongs.”

“I still disagree with you on that. I don’t think Prongs was a stag, I think that nickname must have meant he was a moose,” George rolled his eyes and sat across from me.

I began to draw a dragon in the corner, which was crying tears that had steam coming up from them as they hit the ground.

“Alright, and now she has a dragon crying over the death of a stag. Maggie’s officially lost it,” George sighed.

“We need to do _something_ , Georgie, our adventures just aren’t the same anymore!” Fred whined.

“Maggie, stop being depressed,” George said, but I could tell by his expression he knew how ridiculous he sounded. I looked up at him and glared a little.

“Seriously though, what’s eating you?” Fred asked, finally sitting down next to George. I folded up my drawing and shrugged wordlessly.

“Anything we can do to cheer you up?” Fred insisted, “An adventure, a prank, a quest of some sort?”

“Seriously, Maggie, no matter what’s bothering you, you shouldn’t let it control your life. Even if it’s a temporary problem, none of us like to see you like this,” George smiled kindly. He had always been the gentler of the twins. “And, if it’s a permanent or long term problem, well, it’s just not good for the _soul_ to be depressed that long!”

I looked up at him, meeting his hazel eyes in shock. He was completely right, of course – this _was_ a very long-term problem and I couldn’t spend the rest of that time being depressed over Harry’s imminent horrors. I should be celebrating his life, enjoying his company, and reveling in there still being time before we really had to worry about Lord Voldy-Pants again. I was wasting the time we had.

The only problem, was, getting over mental illness was easier said than done.

“Alright, alright,” I sighed, _it’s better to try than to not_ , “What do you have in mind?”

“HUZZAH!” Fred and George cheered, jumping up and pumping their fists in the air. I sat back and shook my head in amazement, laughing silently.

“Seriously, what’s the plan?” I laughed weakly.

“We shall go on a magical adventure to a place you have never been before!” Fred declared, helping me out of the chair. George helped me put on my coat with a wide grin.

“Somewhere in the castle I haven’t been before?” I looked at them in mild confusion, “Are you guys taking me to the Chamber of Secrets?”

“Sadly, no,” Fred shook his head, “That would be useful knowledge to have, but we’re as clueless to you as to its location.”

“And we never said we’re going somewhere in the castle!” George laughed, “Get some galleons, and a coat, we’re going to a _different_ place of adventure.”

I went up to my room and grabbed my purse with my allowance, coming down to find them again all bundled up themselves.

“Come on, we’ve got to be sneaky about this,” George murmured. I walked with them cautiously through the castle. I saw that Fred had the Marauder’s Map open as we went over to the third floor. We continued to walk along, quite silently, until we reached the statue of a humpbacked witch. It stared down at us with its crooked tooth and squinting eye as I stood by Fred and George with my arms crossed over my chest (which, to my dismay, had grown again. Bullocks.)

“ _Dissendium_ ,” Fred murmured, tapping the statue with his wand. The statue suddenly revealed a door, behind which was a passageway.

“Where does it go?” I whispered softly, wrapping my scarf around my face.

“You’ll see,” Fred laughed.

“It is a surprise,” George declared, “Come on!”

We descended through the passage, which was dark, wet and cold. I shivered violently and George, for reasons unknown, gave me his own jacket as we walked through it. I mumbled in protest about him being cold but he just shook his head and we continued on.

Finally we came out on the other side in a cellar. It was much warmer in here so I gave George his coat back. The cellar was filled with all the candy there could possibly be in the world – cauldron cakes, pumpkin pasties, chocolate frogs, you name it, it was there.

“Where… are we?” I gasped, “Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory or something?”

“What’s that?” George frowned at me.

“Anyways, we’re in Honeydukes’ cellar – Honeydukes is the candy shop in Hogsmeade. You’ve heard of Hogsmeade, right?” Fred beamed.

“Of course, it’s the village everyone goes to some weekends – well, the older students anyway. But _I’m_ not allowed to be here and it isn’t even a designated weekend!” I hissed in amazement.

“First off, I just heard you list a string of rules. What’s the number _one_ Weasley-Johnson guideline?” Fred teased.

I rolled my eyes but replied with a slight grin, “Never follow the rules, unless it involves hurting another person who doesn’t deserve it. Then, follow the rules.”

“You kind of listed guidelines one _and_ two, but correct,” George laughed.

“Alright alright,” I smiled, “But won’t we get caught by someone?”

“Usually the shopkeepers turn a blind eye when we come illegally – since no one really knows how we manage it, they figure we’ve got permission. At any rate, we always go places where we can pay for what we’re looking at, and they won’t want to turn away paying customers,” Fred explained.

“We should get out of here, though, before someone finds us here. Down in the cellar, someone might get angry,” George winked and we all crept up the stairs and managed to sneak into the actual shop of Honeydukes.

It was enormous, and the amount of sweets there was absolutely fantastic. I wanted to buy something of everything but Fred and George held me back, explaining that there were many more shops to explore.

“Not to mention, you turn thirteen the second day of term. If you were any older you’d be in the proper year for visiting Hogsmeade,” George commented thoughtfully as we entered the snowy street. It wasn’t as cold as in the passageway, presumably because it was above ground, so when George offered his coat again I refused. I was from Braemar. Cold was never my weakness.

We continued walking through the village and Fred and George directed me to a small pub called _The Three Broomsticks_.

“You are in for a treat,” Fred beamed, “Butterbeer!”

“Beer?” I raised an eyebrow, “I’m only thirteen, mate.”

“It doesn’t have a lot of alcohol – you really can’t get drunk off of it. Trust me, I’ve tried,” Fred sighed.

“He drank almost thirteen glasses of the stuff and was only mildly tipsy – and he drank them _fast_ ,” George laughed.

“Merlin, I had to piss afterwards,” Fred shook his head sadly, “Maybe if I had managed to drink _twenty_ of the things in under thirty minutes…”

“Anyways, you’re a bit smaller than us, so it might have done more to you,” George grinned and I stuck my tongue out at him, “And you’re a girl. So if you start to act drunk, we _will_ be removing you from the premises.”

“Wait, wait, _hold up_ ,” I laughed, “I’m a _girl?_ ”

“Alcohol affects women more a – and you were talking about how you don’t act like a girl,” George laughed, catching on.

“Honestly, George, keep up,” Fred grinned.

“And, no matter how much you try to hide it with those oversized sweaters, everyone knows you’re a girl,” George grinned cheekily. I stepped on his foot, my face burning bright red as he continued to laugh loudly.

“Stop talking about the twin devils,” I hissed in annoyance.

“Is that what you call them?” George roared with laughter, “Seriously?”

“They keep growing and I haven’t given them my permission to do so,” I muttered peevishly, my face still feeling like it was on fire.

“First off, it doesn’t work like that,” George chortled as Fred fell over on the snow laughing hysterically, “Second off, you’ll thank them later, when your mind finally catches up with your body.”

“What in the blazes is _that_ supposed to mean?!” I threw my arms in the air in annoyance.

“Those are what men call, and I quote many a mate of mine, ‘bloke-magnets,” George nodded with a grin, “And the more they grow, the larger their magnetism.”

“I WILL KILL YOU GEORGE FABIAN WEASLEY!” I screamed at the top of my lungs, “MURDER YOU, FLAY YOU ALIVE!”

“That would be breaking Guideline number two, which you grouped up with Guideline number one,” George chortled. Fred was still rolling around in the snow.

“FRED GIDEON WEASLEY YOU SHUT YOUR MOUTH,” I roared. Fred laughed even harder in response.

I walked briskly past them into the shop in anger, my face still as red as a tomato. They followed quickly behind me, Fred still laughing hysterically, causing the stares of many people in the pub.

“They can be bird magnets too, if that’s the way you fancy,” George offered calmly, still grinning a little at my discomfort.

“To begin with, I don’t fancy _anyone_ right now,” I hissed, realizing my red face could permanently remain that way at this point, “Second off, no, blokes are fine, thanks.” Though my mind briefly flickered to how every time I happened to see Angelina Johnson I felt flustered. Still, there were things I could deal with right now, and things I couldn’t; that happened to be one of them.

“Good,” George beamed. I looked at him in simple awe and shook my head.

“Not that it’s wrong for you to like birds, that is. I mean, our brother Charlie prefers blokes after all and…” George continued on.

“And you should stop talking,” Fred finally gasped for breath, “Before mum hears you across the bloody country and starts freaking out over what you just said.”

“Let’s just get her some Butterbeer, shall we?” George laughed, heading up to the bar as Fred and I sat down at a booth. Fred was laughing more quietly now and just shaking his head in amusement.

“I will kick you underneath this table,” I hissed. Fred grinned at that as George came back with three Butterbeers, which were golden and frothing on the top. As I sipped mine, I was amazed with how sweet and delicious it tasted, and quickly downed the whole mug.

“Another?” George raised his eyebrows. I nodded with a grin and George, still looking apprehensive, went back to refill the mug. I paid him for both glasses joyfully and downed the second one in only two gulps.

“Alright, she could possibly get drunk at this rate,” Fred laughed.

“Bring it,” I responded cheerfully. The sweet, warming feeling was the best sensation I had had in ages.

“Oh dear,” George rolled his eyes as he got me a third mug. Both he and Fred were still on their first.

Maybe it was part the depression over Harry, which I of course wasn’t over; maybe it was part the desire to grow up to face the challenges ahead; maybe it was the ever-present need to impress Fred and George; maybe it was a need for something fun and cheerful; or maybe it was just my usual need to be impulsive and reckless. Either way, I managed to make my way (and pay for them, thanks) through ten Butterbeers within a half hour. Needless to say, I was _extremely_ tipsy, and had never felt that particular sensation before. I had even planned on continuing to drink, however, George stopped me and took away my coin purse so I couldn’t go up and get one myself.

“Look, we might not get in trouble here, but back at the castle a professor’s going to notice that you’re almost drunk,” George sighed.

“We forgot to factor in her age, Georgie, of _course_ she’s more susceptible,” Fred groaned.

“Wh-What about Guide… line one?” I giggled, hiccupping. George groaned.

“Guideline two provisions for hurting yourself and others, and if you drink any more Butterbeers, kiddo, you’ll be hurting yourself and your still growing brain and body, or have we forgotten that?” George raised an eyebrow at me.

I shrugged nonchalantly and fell back across the booth’s bench, “This is comfy. I’ll sleep here.”

“That’s nonsensical,” Fred called, leaning over the table to look down at me, “Hermione will throw a fit.”

“Hermione can… do stuff,” I settled on, rather than saying one of the many lovely inappropriate phrases Fred and George would often say.

“Oh no. She’s not even attempting to use our many colorful axioms, Freddie,” George groaned.

“She’s lost the creativity and nerve to do so!” Fred gasped.

“Aren’t inhibitions supposed to be lowered?” George commented thoughtfully.

I sat up and leaned across the bench to George, putting my hands on his shoulders, “Don’t believe everything you read!”

“Alright,” George rolled his eyes, “Let’s get out of here. It looks like she’s gotten quite the first experience in Hogsmeade.”

“But… But Zonko’s! Pranks! Shenanigans!” I protested, refusing to leave the booth seat.

“Sleep! Not getting caught! Walking off the tipsy-ness!” Fred responded cheerfully.

“I refuse to move! I shall not _be_ moved!” I declared, raising my fist into the air.

“Alright, drastic measures time,” George groaned, and before I knew what was happening he had picked me up again like he had in the Forbidden Forest.

“PUT ME DOWNN!” I whined, hitting his back with my fist.

“No, Margaret Natalie Johnson. It is not in your best interests,” George responded as we left the pub and began walking back to Honeydukes.

“BUT – MONKEYSHINES! WE MUST HAVE TOMFOOLERIES!” I shouted in protest. Fred was walking behind us and just shaking his head.

“How many synonyms for trouble making can she come up with before we get back to Hogwarts?” Fred asked thoughtfully.

“I’m out,” I responded sadly.

“Darn, that was good,” Fred chuckled as we waited until the shop owners were busy with a customer and managed to sneak back down to the cellar and through the door to the passageway.

I began shivering violently; an effect of both whatever was going on with me and the coldness of the underground corridor. George couldn’t do much about it this time so he simply walked quicker.

“I like that you gave me my coat,” I declared, not fully aware of what I was saying, “It was very gallant of you.”

“No problem,” George answered. I couldn’t see his face, but I continued anyway, saying, “And it is very chivalrous of you to carry me through the passageway.”

Fred looked amazed at what I was saying as George responded, “Well, I wanted us to leave, so… yeah.”

“And it was also awesome when you rescued me from the giant spider of dooooooom,” I over pronounced, starting to feel rather sleepy now. Fred was looking up at the ceiling and not at my eyes. I was much too sluggish to pull back my head to look at George.

“Well, there I had no choice, didn’t I? Didn’t want our prodigy to be eaten by a mutant arachnid,” George explained calmly. I was curious as to whether he was grinning, or rolling my eyes at my behavior, or simply concentrating on carrying me up through to the castle in a reasonable amount of time.

I heard him sputter at one point so I asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Urgh. Maggie, you have too much hair. Some of it got in my mouth,” George groaned, “Did you _have_ to wear it in a ponytail, or whatever it is you call this contraption?”

“Yep!” I giggled mercilessly.

“Why on _Earth_ did it get in your mouth?” Fred asked in amazement.

“Oh never _mind_ ,” George groaned as we finally reached the end of the passageway. Fred rushed forward to open up the door and George set me down so I could walk, but I was rather dizzy and fell on him anyway, my arms still around his neck.

I hiccupped once and laughed, “Well, now _I’m_ as clumsy as _Neville_!”

“Oh good Merlin,” Fred groaned, “This is going to be a nightmare in the Common Room.”

“We’re going to have to rely on Hermione’s good graces to get her into bed,” George sighed, “Come _on_ , Maggie, you have to walk, you can’t just hang onto me all the time.”

“But you’re at the perfect height for it!” I joked.

“Maggie, you’re on the tips of your toes and stretching your arms out completely, he’s so much taller than you,” Fred rolled his eyes.

“Well! Then he should carry me again!” I proposed. I didn’t know _why_ I wanted him to so much, but I did.

“Oh for the love of Merlin!” George sighed, leaning down to pick me up again, “When you remember this in the morning, because you aren’t blackout drunk, I demand a full apology.”

“NEVER!” I shouted triumphantly. Fred was shaking his head in bemusement as we managed to get up to the seventh floor and Fred opened the portrait hole.

Inside there were a lot of students mulling about, so George set me down again. Hermione immediately rushed forward, along with Harry. Neville watched in curiosity from the corner.

“Don’t ask too many questions,” Fred sighed, “But Maggie’s a little… well…”

“Woo alcohol!” I cheered before George covered my mouth with his hand.

“Drunk?!” Hermione and Harry said in unison with their eyebrows raised.

“We made a terrible decision to give her Butterbeer,” Fred groaned.

“I always heard Butterbeer wasn’t strong at all, though – not for people,” Hermione hissed.

“Well, some people are more susceptible to alcohol in general than others. And then she went and drank ten mugs of the stuff in under half an hour,” George sighed, still stopping me from shouting to the common room. Hermione’s jaw dropped open as Neville walked over and let out a huge sigh of amazement.

“I can honestly say I’ve seen everything now,” he laughed, rolling his eyes at me as I stuck my tongue out at him.

“ _Honestly_ , I’ve never seen such blatantly _horrific_ judgment –“ Hermione growled.

“Oh you can yell at us later, just _please_ get her into bed before a professor comes running,” Fred begged.

“Better do as he says, Hermione,” Harry, unlike Hermione, wasn’t pissed. He was clearly holding back tears of laughter as he looked at me struggling sluggishly with George. Neville was giggling uncontrollably.

“Honestly, you two drive me _completely mental_ ,” Hermione snarled as she grabbed me from George, making sure to cover my mouth almost immediately, and walked me up to the dormitory.

The next day was Valentine’s Day and I woke up with a monstrous headache. I got dressed lazily, looking even more sloppy than normal, and wore my hair down. George wasn’t kidding – I had a _lot_ of hair, it was very thin hair but there were so many strands the entire mass was a huge dark brown blob and it went down almost to my butt. It was stick straight, though thick, which gave me the appearance of the stereotype of a Native American. I didn’t really know how I felt about this. I barely combed through it as I stumbled down from the dormitory and dragged my feet to the Great Hall.

When I entered the Hall, my headache got worse.

The walls were covered with large, obnoxiously pink flowers. Annoying heart shaped confetti was falling from the light, paisley blue ceiling. I wanted to vomit almost immediately and I nearly did, holding my mouth with one hand and my stomach with my other arm and forcing it back down as I made my way to the Gryffindor table and sat down.

Harry was looking at me and clearly trying to not laugh again. Hermione was glaring a little bit but I couldn’t take her seriously with the heart confetti trapped in her bushy light brown hair.

“How are we feeling today, sis?” Harry grinned maliciously.

“Oh _shut up_ Harry,” I groaned, rubbing my temples, “I have the _worst_ headache of my life right now and _pink-land_ isn’t helping.”

“Isn’t it fantastic?” Harry laughed, “The moment I came in I thought, _ah, of all the things to make Maggie’s hangover worse – how about her least favorite color?_ It’s beautiful. It couldn’t be _planned_ better than this.”

“It’s burning into my poor retinas,” I moaned.

“This is bloody brilliant, I’m telling you. Now, if you weren’t hung-over I would be just as upset, I mean good _Merlin_ this is obnoxious. But you’ve… you’ve just provided the best silver lining of all time!” Harry was fully on laughing now, a loud bark that made me cover my ears.

“Well _I_ for one think you’ve been _completely_ irresponsible,” Hermione snapped, “I mean, one Butterbeer is one thing – and I’m not even going to _ask_ how you got it, you can only get them at Hogsmeade and I have no idea how you would have gotten there with those two – but to drink _ten_ in _less than thirty minutes_? This hangover serves you right, you should really think before you do that again. And when we go to Hogsmeade together next year, mark my words, I’m limiting you to one, _if that_ , per trip!”

“Fine, whatever, you’re the boss,” I grumbled irritably. Her voice was loud, snappish, and as abrasive to my ears as Harry’s humongous laugh. I kind of wanted to yell at her that I drank because I was depressed, but now was not the time to get into that.

 _You’re living in your head more than you used to_ , I thought to myself sadly, _the joys of depression_.

Fred and George then came in and I felt myself flush furiously at the sight of the latter. I had absolutely no idea why and I felt angry with myself. It wasn’t like I flushed around other attractive people – wait – what?

“How are we feeling today, Maggie?” George asked almost _kindly_ as he sat down next to Harry, who was still chortling.

“Well, if the angry looks of Hermione and the endless glee of Harry are _any_ sort of indication, I’d say she’s more irritated than she had to be,” Fred chuckled.

“The pink _can’t_ be helping,” George laughed. I groaned, put my arms on the table and buried my face in them just to block out the light and sound at once.

“Happy Valentine’s Day!” I heard a _much_ too cheerful voice call out – that of Lockhart, the great annoying twit. “And may I thank the forty-six people who have so far sent me cards! Yes, I have taken the liberty of arranging this little surprise for you all – and it doesn’t end here!”

I looked up and squinted in anger at the teacher’s table, ready to raise a fist in fury. Harry gently held my arms to the table, almost knowing what I wanted to do.

Lockhart clapped his hands and a dozen angry looking dwarfs walked through the entrance hall, wearing horrific looking golden wings and carrying annoying harps.

“My friendly, card-carrying cupids!” Lockhart beamed, “They will be roving around the school today delivering your valentines! And the fun doesn’t stop here! I’m sure my colleagues will want to enter into the spirit of the occasion! Why not ask Professor Snape to show you how to whip up a Love Potion! And while you’re at it, Professor Flitwick knows more about Entrancing Enchantments than any wizard I’ve ever met, the sly old dog!”

Flitwick buried his face in his hands and Snape clearly would force-feed poison to _anyone_ who dared take up Lockhart on that request.

“Well, I’m going to just nip to the toilet to slit my wrists. It’s better than living through this day,” I groaned.

“Nah, you’re going to have to suffer through it like the rest of us,” George laughed. I glared at him and tried to control that annoying persistent flush in my cheeks from rising again. George then looked at me in concern, a serious expression that reminded me that I wasn’t allowed to joke about suicide. I mouthed an apology, feeling even more embarrassed now than ever.

All day long the dwarves barged into classes to deliver singing valentines. I witnessed, personally, two – one for me, and one for Harry.

The one for me was delivered in the hallway when Harry, Hermione and I were walking up to greet Fred and George before lunch. Neville had been absent at breakfast, and was still strangely absent now, though he usually walked with us. The dwarf walked up to me, looking surly and annoyed.

“I’ve got a musical message to deliver to Maggie Johnson, in person I does,” the dwarf declared. The rest of the second years coming from transfiguration behind us stopped in their tracks and Fred and George immediately began sniggering.

“Oh good Merlin’s buttocks,” I groaned, “Please, don’t.”

“Nope, I’ve got to, you see. ‘E paid for it an’ everything,” the dwarf insisted.

“Just… quickly,” I rubbed my temples and thought _why, today, of all days, did it have to be Valentine’s Day_.

“ _Though she seems like a great ball of fury,_  
To me, she is really quite pretty  
I cannot stop thinking about her  
For my crush there just isn’t a cure!” the dwarf sang. I buried my face in my hands as Fred and George began rolling with laughter on the ground. When he left, I started hitting the two of them violently with my bag.

“WHICH – ONE – OF – YOU – TWO – _IDIOTS_ – DID – THIS?” I screamed, smashing the heavy books into their sides.

“OW!” whined Fred.

“Look, _neither_ of us sent it!” George sighed.

“Do you _really_ think _either_ of us would send something so _stupid_ as that?” Fred groaned.

“To begin with, we’re much more creative than that,” George rolled his eyes.

“Secondly, we’re not wasting our galleons on your humiliation,” Fred sighed.

“Thirdly, we don’t want to give _money_ to the great idiot _Lockhart_ ,” George grumbled.

“And finally, why on _Earth_ would we send one of these things to you _romantically_? The thought is _absurd!_ ” Fred snapped.

I felt something sad grow in the back of my heart as George nodded in agreement but chose to ignore it, “Then who bloody _did_ send the forsaken thing?”

The second years began moving forward around us as Hermione and Harry both contained sniggers next to me. Neville walked by, holding his books rather close to his face, as though to hide from me.

“Oi! Neville!” I called, annoyed that I hadn’t seen him yet today. If there was one person who could always cheer me up, it was he. The twins occasionally annoyed me. He turned to face me in a manner that seemed almost reluctant.

“Yeah?” he responded.

“Can you _believe_ that?” I rolled my eyes, walking up to him, “Can you believe some _idiot_ sent that to me?”

“No,” he laughed, though rather weakly, “I really can’t believe it. What an idiot.”

I rolled my eyes and clapped him on the shoulder, “Seriously. What fool would have a crush on me, anyways? The only boys I actually get along with are you, Fred, George, and Harry, and well, you all have your heads on your shoulders and wouldn’t like me in your right minds.”

“Exactly,” Neville smiled thinly.

“Ugh. I’m glad _you_ understand. I feel bad for the bloke, but he’s a fool if he likes me like that. Good Merlin. I’m much too high maintenance. It’s bad enough for _you_ and you’re just my friend!” I shook my head, “Anyways, I just wanted to complain. Sorry about that – see? Case in point! Way too much work if I was someone’s _girlfriend_. Urgh. The thought makes me blanch.”

 _Does it?_ I thought calmly. I looked at George out the corner of my eye, _Does it, really?_

“Yeah,” Neville laughed, but it seemed forced, “I’ll see you later, Maggie.” He then hurried away quite quickly, his face buried in his books again.

“Well, he was acting odd,” I frowned. Harry just shrugged but Hermione was shaking her head.

“What?” I asked her.

“Nothing,” she sighed, “I’ll tell you one day.”

I frowned at her but Fred and George were rushing us back up to the Great Hall for lunch.

The other singing valentine I was present for was Harry’s, as we were going upstairs for Charms in the late afternoon. The first years were coming back from Charms and I waved at Ginny. She waved back, beaming at me – she was looking a _lot_ healthier and it pleased me to no end.

A dwarf came up to Harry and shouted, “Oy, you! ‘Arry Potter!” He was rough with the crowd as he tried to get to Harry and I groaned internally for him.

“I’ve got a musical message to deliver to ‘Arry Potter in person,” the dwarf declared, twanging his harp. I looked from Harry to the dwarf in panic and almost dove to try and get it to go away.

“ _Not here_ ,” Harry hissed, clearly trying to get away.

“ Stay _still_!” the dwarf shouted, grabbing Harry’s bag and pulling him back.

“Let – me – GO!” Harry shouted, tugging at his bag. With a large ripping noise, his bag split in two, and all his books, his wand, parchment and quill spilled onto the floor and his ink bottle smashed over everything.

Harry began to scramble and Hermione and I helped him quickly gather everything up off the ground. But then two voices that I really _didn’t_ need to hear sounded.

“What’s going on here?” Draco Malfoy asked, and Harry began stuffing things into his bag more furiously.

“What’s all this commotion?” Percy Weasley asked.

 _Merlin’s Beard!_ I thought in horror as I helped Harry stuff all his things back into his bags and he tried to make a run for it. Unfortunately, the dwarf had seized him around the knees and brought him crashing to the floor.

“Right,” the dwarf stated, sitting on Harry’s ankles, “Here is your singing valentine:

 _His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad,_  
His hair is as dark as a blackboard.  
I wish he was mine, he’s really divine  
The hero who conquered the Dark Lord.”

Harry was beet red and I shooed the dwarf away. Everyone was rolling on the floor, laughing hysterically. I had a funny feeling I knew who sent the Valentine and I wanted to spare her any more embarrassment.

I looked around wildly and saw that Malfoy had picked up something from the ground – Riddle’s diary.

 _Why the_ hell _does he still have the bloody thing?_ I thought in annoyance as I walked up to him.

“Give it back, Malfoy,” I hissed.

“Wonder what Potter’s written in this?” Malfoy asked calmly, who clearly hadn’t pieced together it wasn’t really Harry’s. Everyone was suddenly quiet and Ginny suddenly looked terrified again.

“Hand it over, Malfoy,” Harry said in a deadly quiet voice.

“When I’ve had a look,” Malfoy laughed.

“As a school prefect –“ Percy ordered, clearly trying to come to Harry’s defense. But Harry had pulled out his wand and shouted, “ _Expelliarmus!_ ” and the book came shooting back to Harry’s hand.

“Harry!” Percy shouted, “No magic in the corridors! I’ll have to report this, you know.”

Malfoy looked furious, though, and that was good enough for Harry. He shouted, extremely vindictively, at Ginny, saying, “I don’t think Potter liked your valentine much!”

Ginny covered her face and ran into class, and I could hear her sobs from far away. Ron nearby looked absolutely murderous. As we reached Charms class, Harry was looking at the diary in puzzlement.

“Just _chuck the damned thing_ already,” I hissed under my breath as we sat down.

“But _look_ ,” Harry insisted, “The pages – there isn’t a drop of ink on them.”

“No changes there!” I wanted to shout. It had been a very long day for me.

“But all the rest of my stuff is soaked, and the ink fell all over the diary, too – and it’s all _gone_ ,” Harry hissed.

I just shook my head, “Look, Harry, it’s a mystery, I’m sure. And when you’ve figured out the answer, you can tell me. For now, we’re in my _worst_ class, I need to concentrate, and I still have a headache.”

Harry nodded and I turned to face Flitwick. That night, partially due to the continuous headache and partially due to Fred and George singing the lyrics to both my valentine and Harry’s in a taunting manner, I went to bed very early indeed.

The next day, I was informed by Harry that you actually had to _write_ in the diary, and it would write back – Riddle _had_ caught the person who had opened the Chamber fifty years ago, and it had been _Hagrid_ – _Hagrid_ had opened the Chamber.

To say I was skeptical about this was putting it mildly. Yes, Hagrid had a deep love for all magical creatures, and the ones he loved the most were very dangerous. But never, _ever_ would I believe he would _kill_ anyone, or even _petrify_ them – _especially_ because they were muggle-born.

Hermione was skeptical too, and that next morning she kept demanding him to repeat the story of his adventures in the diary memory. Neville was still mysteriously absent from our little group, and I was confused and hurt – to say I was still downtrodden would be an understatement, and I needed that little goofball around to keep my spirits at least somewhat up.

“Riddle _might_ have got the wrong person… maybe it was some other monster that was attacking people…” Hermione insisted.

“How many monsters can one castle hold?” Harry responded dully.

“Well, we have Malfoy, and then we have Crabbe, and then Goyle, and…” but one look from Harry showed my joke wasn’t appreciated much.

“We always knew Hagrid had been expelled… and the attacks must’ve stopped after Hagrid was kicked out. Otherwise, Riddle wouldn’t have got his award,” Harry sighed.

We were all silent as we walked through the castle, clearly all downtrodden by this news about our friend.

“Do you think we should just go _ask_ Hagrid about it all?” Hermione finally murmured.

“Yeah, that’ll be _really_ pleasant,” I groaned, “Hi Hagrid! Here’s just an innocent little question, you know, no big deal – are you setting anything mad and, you know, hairy, loose in the castle of late? You know, other than yourself.”

“Let’s just not say anything to Hagrid unless there’s another attack,” Harry suggested. Hermione and I both nodded in agreement, and we hoped that it would never have to happen, as it had been four months since the attack on Justin and Nick at this point.

The Easter holidays rolled around, and thankfully Neville had begun talking to us all again. He, too, did not believe that Hagrid would have killed or even accidentally attacked anyone. That weekend was also big time for the second years. We had to choose our subjects for the third year – we each had to pick at least two new subjects, and we couldn’t drop any of the old ones.

“One day, I will no longer have to take charms. That day, I will dance an Irish jig, and no one can stop me,” I groaned as I looked at the list of subjects contemplatively.

“What are you thinking of?” Harry would ask me constantly. All the students were writing home to their parents for advice, or to older students if they were muggle-born.

“Well, Care of Magical Creatures is a definite yes,” I paused, “I think if Herbology is required, that should be, too.”

“You still need one more, though,” Harry groaned.

“Well, I can’t decide between Arithmancy and Ancient Runes, so I was actually going to do three subjects,” I explained as we looked at the list together in the dormitory.

“I… don’t really want to do either, to be honest,” Harry grimaced.

“We don’t have to do _everything_ together,” I smiled at him, “We still have Magical Creatures together and everything. Do what you’d like. Maybe muggle studies?”

“I was thinking divination, to be honest,” Harry shrugged, “Ron’s doing that one and it sounds interesting.”

“It sounds like a load of rubbish to me,” I laughed, “But you go ahead. And we both know Hermione’s going to be in all our classes.”

“I know,” Harry was shaking his head with laughter, “My God, she’s signing up for everything!”

Neville was nearby during this conversation so I waved him over.

“What are you going to take, Neville?” I asked brightly. Neville smiled back at me, much more cheerful now at Easter than he had been on that bloody Valentine’s Day and the days following it.

“Care of Magical Creatures, and I can’t decide the second one. I don’t want to do Muggle Studies _or_ Divination, but… Arithmancy looks hard, and so does Ancient Runes,” Neville sighed.

“Well, Arithmancy is basically magical maths, isn’t it? And Ancient Runes is just a foreign language… so really, which are you better at, maths or reading?” I laughed.

Neville smiled a little but then frowned, “I’m best at Herbology… and that’s all about figuring out how best to take care of different plants and understanding how the plants live, what they do, and applying that knowledge…”

“Do Arithmancy,” I suggested, “It’s more about figuring things out, too.”

Neville nodded and I hoped that this _was_ the right choice for him.

Harry had a lot of Quidditch practice over the next few weeks, as Wood wanted them to win the Cup at last. As a result, Neville, Hermione and I did a lot of reading in the Common Room together, preparing for exams in Harry’s continuous absence. I was constantly taking breaks to read books about the latest discoveries of my favorite group of animals – crocodiles, birds, dragons, and their ancient ancestors. Neville was reading up on water dwelling plants of the British Isles, and Hermione was reading on wizarding history, occasionally muttering about the horrors and mistreatment of various margianilzed groups.

“I’m going to go to the dormitory for something,” Neville suddenly interjected, “I’ll be right back.”

“OK Neville,” Hermione and I said in unison. Soon after Harry came by with his broom, heading up to the dormitory to put it away, in all likelihood.

After a while there could be a great commotion heard from upstairs. Hermione and I looked at each other in confusion and went to the bottom of the steps. Harry soon came running down them with Neville, looking frantic.

“Riddle’s diary is gone,” Harry hissed.

“ _What_?” Hermione and I gasped.

“Someone tore apart the dormitory looking for it, found it, and took it,” Harry whispered.

“But… only a Gryffindor could have stolen… nobody else knows our password…” Hermione looked horrorstruck.

“Exactly,” Neville muttered.

The next day was the Hufflepuff-Gryffindor game. Neville and I headed out to the stands eagerly, but I couldn’t find Hermione _anywhere_. Neither could Neville, and this worried the both of us.

“She was in the library, last I heard,” Neville frowned as we took our seats.

“She’s _always_ in the library… but she never misses one of Harry’s matches,” I looked out over the field, feeling troubled.

“I did see her before she left for it,” Neville paused, “I think she had an idea.”

“About?” I asked curiously.

“We were talking about the Chamber – and what sort of monster would be there. I commented… that if it’s Slytherin’s monster, it should be some type of reptile, probably a snake. Doesn’t that make sense?” Neville asked me.

I looked at him in shock, “Yeah… it does. Why didn’t we think of that before?”

“I don’t know,” Neville shook his head, “But then she gasped in amazement and said she had to run off to the library, she had just realized something.”

I frowned in worry, “She still wouldn’t miss a match.”

“Course not,” Neville ran a hand through his hair, “So where is she?”

Suddenly, Professor McGonagall appeared on the field, carrying a large purple megaphone.

“This match has been cancelled,” Professor McGonagall shouted over the pitch. There were many boos and hisses over the crowd and Wood seemed to be trying to reason with McGonagall. I looked at Neville and we both left the stands, going down towards the teams on the field.

“All students are to make their way back to the House common rooms, where their Heads of Houses will give them further information. As quickly as you can, please!” McGonagall ordered.

We managed to make it down before the crowds gathered and rushed over to where McGonagall was talking to Harry. We followed as she led him somewhere, and she didn’t even object to us following, muttering, “Yes, you should come too, Johnson, Longbottom.”

Increasingly, it appeared we were going to the Hospital Wing.

“This will be a bit of a shock,” Professor McGonagall murmured in an out of character gentle voice, “There has been another attack… another _double_ attack.”

Harry, Neville and I looked at each other in panic as we entered the Infirmary. There was a fifth year Ravenclaw being tended by Madam Pomfrey, and next to her, Hermione, as stiff as a board with her eyes open and glossy.

“ _NO!_ ” Harry shouted.

“ _Hermione!_ ” I sobbed.

Neville just clapped his hand over his mouth in horror.

“They were found near the library,” Professor McGonagall explained, “I don’t suppose either of you can explain this? It was on the floor next to them…”

She held up a small, circular mirror.

We all shook our heads.

“I shall escort you back to Gryffindor Tower…” Professor McGonagall began.

“Give me a moment,” Harry murmured. McGonagall looked started as he walked over to the side of the bed and reached out to wipe the hair from Hermione’s face, where it had strewn all over quite messily. He then took Hermione’s cold, stiff hand in his for a moment. I turned to Neville and buried my head in his shoulder, unable to not cry any longer. Neville hesitantly wrapped his arms around me and rubbed my back, probably feeling rather surprised by my sudden need for comfort. Harry still sat there, holding Hermione’s hand.

“Potter… Johnson… Longbottom… I’m truly sorry, and I can bring you back later, but… I need to go address the rest of the Gryffindors,” Professor McGonagall finally murmured.

Neville nodded next to my head and I removed mine from his shoulder, wiping the tears from my face noisily. Harry stood up, bent over and kissed Hermione on the forehead before turning back to Neville and me with a determined look on his face. McGonagall didn’t miss it, and I’m sure she knew it meant he would stop whoever had done this, but she chose not to say anything.

As we walked back to the Gryffindor tower, the three of us held each other’s hands as tightly as we could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Third chapter of the night! The closer we get to where I was in the story before, the fewer major edits I have to make - since it's closer to my new ideas! Anywho please let me know what you think! Thanks! (Yes, Maggie is bi/pansexual. She just hasn't realized it yet. Also, George Maggie and Fred haven't really learned about gender identity versus assigned gender at birth, etc. Sorry if that was triggering for anyone, again!)


	15. Chapter Fourteen: May 8 - May 24, 1993, Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "They can keep me out 
> 
> Till I tear the walls 
> 
> Till I save your heart
> 
> And to take your soul 
> 
> For what has been done 
> 
> Cannot be undone
> 
> In the evil's heart
> 
> In the evil's soul"
> 
> ~ Florence and the Machine, "Seven Devils"

Chapter Fourteen: May 8 – May 24, 1993, Hogwarts

Professor McGonagall stood in front of all the Gryffindors. I was still crying, and this was so out of character for me that literally every single Gryffindor would throw me looks of concern. I wasn’t used to that and it made me cry even more. Harry wrapped his arm around my shoulder and held me close to him, and Neville sat on the other side of me, still holding my hand. Harry was crying as I was and Neville’s eyes were glistening a little as well.

“All students will return to their House common rooms by six o’clock in the evening. No student is to leave the dormitories after that time. A teacher will escort you to each lesson. No student is to use the bathroom unaccompanied by a teacher. All further Quidditch training and matches are to be postponed. There will be no more evening activities,” Professor McGonagall ordered.

Harry had finally managed to stop crying and my tears were beginning to slow down.

Professor McGonagall continued, sounding very distraught, “I need hardly add that I have rarely been so distressed. It is likely that the school will be closed unless the culprit behind these attacks is caught. I would urge anyone who thinks they might know anything about them to come forward.”

She left through the portrait hole and left us all in silence. The Weasley twins came and sat across from me on the floor, looking at the three of us in complete concern. Ron hovered behind them, also looking upset. Percy just stared off into the distance blankly, and Ginny looked _absolutely_ distraught. She sprinted up to the girl’s dormitories, sobbing horrifically. I didn’t have the energy to follow her.

“That’s two Gryffindors down, not counting a Gryffindor ghost, one Ravenclaw, and one Hufflepuff,” Lee Jordan stated in annoyance to everyone in the Common Room, “Haven’t _any_ of the teachers noticed that the Slytherins are all safe? Isn’t it _obvious_ all this stuff’s coming from Slytherin? The _Heir_ of Slytherin, the _monster_ of Slytherin – why don’t they just chuck all the Slytherins out?”

Everyone began applauding and I reluctantly joined in. Harry looked at me in confusion.

“I-I’m sorry,” I sniffled, “B-But my m-mum is b-b-basically the _only_ Slytherin I-I trust, and sh-she’s out of school now. We can ch-chuck them out.” _Well, and Snape, but that’s an argument Harry and I **don’t** need to have. _

Harry sighed but he looked to be in agreement with me, as did Neville. George reached across and patted me on the knee gently.

“Do you need anything, Maggie?” he asked softly.

“We can go to the Three Broomsticks and get you drunk again, if it’ll help,” Fred offered.

“Heck, we can go to the Hog’s Head and get you firewhiskey, man that stuff is _strong_ ,” George smiled a little.

I shook my head, wiping the tears from my eyes. Percy still had yet to say anything.

“What’s up with Percy?” I sniffled.

“He’s in shock… that Ravenclaw girl – Penelope Clearwater – she’s a prefect. I don’t think he thought the monster would dare attack a _prefect_ ,” George explained quietly.

“Are you sure you don’t want to do anything?” Fred insisted.

I shook my head again, “We can’t go out without being c-caught. And I feel it would be an insult to Hermione to do something so dangerous when she’s been h-h-hurt.”

“Alright,” Fred and George said in unison. They sat with the three of us, all just contemplating quietly.

Harry turned to look at me and I knew he wanted to talk to me, so I excused myself to go to the girl’s dormitory and Harry followed, somehow attracting no suspicion as he did so. We stopped at the base of the steps and looked at each other.

“What are we going to do?” I asked very softly, “Do you think they’ll suspect Hagrid?”

“We’ve got to go and talk to him,” Harry responded firmly, “I can’t believe it’s him this time, but if he set the monster loose last time he’ll know how to get inside the Chamber of Secrets, and that’s a start.”

I nodded, thinking hard, “Should we bring Neville along? He’s a part of this.”

“I know, but he’s clumsy. We need go in the night, and we need to be as quiet as possible. We should go alone, and fill him in later,” Harry decided. I nodded in agreement, though I felt mildly bad about it.

“How are we going to get out, though? McGonagall said we have to stay in the tower, and like I said to Fred and George, I don’t want to disrespect Hermione in this…” I murmured.

“I think,” Harry was very quiet now and I had to strain to hear him, “It’s time to get my dad’s old cloak out again.”

I felt my eyes widen but I grinned in response anyway. I then ran upstairs to change out of my Gryffindor spirit robes and changed into jeans and a long-sleeved shirt and trainers, for the most quiet I could be. Harry changed into a similar getup.

We sat in the Common Room together as everyone milled about and eventually went to sleep. We stayed together in the common room as Fred, George and Neville left, making the excuse that we didn’t really want to sleep at the moment.

“Of course you don’t,” George murmured in the kindest voice I had ever heard him use.

“Probably don’t want to get out of each other’s sight, too,” Fred offered. Harry and I nodded.

“I’m going to get some sleep, though,” Neville sighed, “You two take care of yourselves.”

We nodded in understanding as they all left and we were completely alone in the Common Room. We waited for a few moments, just in case, and then Harry pulled out the Invisibility Cloak and draped it over the two of us. He then did what we always did in the forest back home, in the scarier areas – he held my hand.

The castle was dark and deserted and gave me the creeps, causing me to hold Harry’s hand even tighter. However, at the same time, it was also especially crowded. Teachers, prefects, and ghosts marched the corridors in pairs, staring around for any strange activity. As such, Harry and I were terrified of making any noise.

Afterwards, we couldn’t decide which was worse: being in the empty corridor and fearing for our lives, or being in a crowded corridor and fearing for everything else.

We somehow managed to make it to the front doors and pushed them open quietly, sneaking out and hurrying together through the grounds. The sky was filled with stars and I thought, sadly, that if it had been any other night and we were doing any other thing, it would be beautiful out.

We finally managed to get to Hagrid’s hut and we pulled off the cloak only when we were outside the front door. We knocked on the door loudly and just seconds afterwards Hagrid opened the door. We were face to face with his crossbow and with Fang barking loudly behind him.

“Oh,” he looked shocked as he lowered the weapon and stared at us, “What’re _you two_ doin’ down here?”

“What’s that for?” Harry pointed at the crossbow as we stepped inside the hut.

“Nothin’… nothin’,” Hagrid muttered, “I’ve been expectin’… doesn’ matter… sit down… I’ll make tea…”

Hagrid seemed more distracted than I had ever seen him. He almost poured water on the fire and then smashed the teapot with his hand. He was twitching nervously and I felt horrifically concerned.

“Are you okay, Hagrid?” Harry asked softly, “Did you hear about Hermione?”

“Oh, I heard, all righ’,” Hagrid responded, his voice breaking a little. I looked to see beady tears appearing in his beard.

He kept looking out the window in terror and poured us both large mugs of boiling water, which had no tea bags – he was so distressed he’d forgotten them. He put some fruitcake on a plate and there was a large knock on the door.

Hagrid dropped the fruitcake and Harry threw the Invisibility Cloak around us, pulling me violently back into a corner of the Hut. Hagrid then grabbed his crossbow and opened the door a second time as Harry and I tried our hardest to not even _breathe_ loudly.

“Good evening, Hagrid,” I heard Professor Dumbledore greet from the front door. He entered into the room, looking deadly serious. A second man, who had rumpled gray hair, an anxious expression, and who was wearing a pinstriped suit, a scarlet tie, a long black cloak, and pointed purple boots, followed him. Under his arm he had a lime green bowler hat.

Hagrid looked pale and sweaty as he sat down in a chair and looked from Dumbledore to the strange looking man.

“Bad business, Hagrid,” the strange man began, “Very bad business. Had to come. Four attack on Muggle-borns. Things’ve gone far enough. Minstry’s got to act.”

So it was a _ministry_ official… someone who worked with my mum. I looked at Harry in shock and we realized how serious this actually was.

“I never,” Hagrid began, his expression terrified, “You know I never, Professor Dumbledore, sir –“

I wanted to jump up to Hagrid’s defense but I knew that the amount of trouble I would get in with that was absolutely astounding.

“I want it understood, Cornelius, that Hagrid has my full confidence,” Dumbledore said to the ministry man, frowning. I recognized the first name Cornelius vaguely, but I couldn’t place whom it was my mum had been talking about.

“Look, Albus,” Cornelius replied, looking very uncomfortable, “Hagrid’s record’s against him. Minstry’s got to do something – the school governors have been in touch –“

“Yet again, Cornelius, I tell you that taking Hagrid away will not help in the slightest,” Dumbledore stated firmly. I had never seen him look so determined about _anything_ like this before.

“Look at it from my point of view,” said Cornelius, fidgeting with his hat, “I’m under a lot of pressure. Got to be seen doing something. If it turns out it wasn’t Hagrid, he’ll be back and no more said. But I’ve got to take him. Got to. Wouldn’t be doing my duty –“

So he was a very high-ranking ministry official, someone who had to keep up with PR. I frowned angrily at the man. How _dare_ he take away Hagrid for something he _wasn’t doing_. That was low and scummy and I wanted to punch the man in the face.

My opinion of the Ministry was dropping very, very rapidly and Harry could clearly see it in my face.

“Take me?” Hagrid responded in shock, shaking madly, “Take me where?”

“For a short stretch only,” Cornelius said, looking away from Hagrid’s eyes, “Not a punishment, Hagrid, more a precaution. If someone else is caught, you’ll be let out with a full apology –“

“Not the Wizard prison, Azkaban?” Hagrid croaked.

Harry looked at me with panicked eyes and I bit my lip in terror. We knew nothing about Azkaban but I had a funny feeling it was along the lines of a horrific place.

There was another knock on the door and Harry and I looked in horror as Lucius Malfoy, whom we had only met the one time, strode inside. He looked rather pleased with himself and I wanted to punch him in the face most of all.

“Already here, Minister Fudge,” he declared, “Good, good.”

 _Fudge_ , I thought in wild amazement, _the Minister of Magic, Fudge!_ This was very serious business indeed and Harry looked just as terrified as I did.

“What’re you doin’ here?” Hagrid roared, “Get outta my house!”

“My dear man, please believe me, I have no please at all in being inside your – er – d’you call this a house?" Malfoy Sr. sneered, “I simply called at the school and was told that the headmaster was here.”

“And what exactly do you want with me, Lucius?” Dumbledore asked politely, but his eyes were still clearly furious.

“ _Dreadful_ thing, Dumbledore,” Malfoy sighed calmly, “but the governors feel it’s time for you to step aside. This is an Order of Suspension – you’ll find all twelve signatures on it. I’m afraid we feel you’re losing your touch. How many attack have there been now? Two more this afternoon, wasn’t it? At this rate, there’ll be no Muggle-borns left at Hogwarts, and we all know what an _awful_ loss that would be to the school.”

I really wanted to jump up and scream, “YOU FILTHY LITTLE LIAR! _You want all of them gone you prat_.” But Harry managed to keep my down by gripping my wrist very tightly.

“Oh, now, see here, Lucius,” Fudge gasped, looking alarmed, “Dumbledore suspended – no, no – last thing we want just now…”

“The appointment – or suspension – of the headmaster is a matter for the governors, Minister Fudge,” Mr. Malfoy responded smoothly, “And as Dumbledore has failed to stop these attacks –“

“See here, Malfoy, if _Dumbledore_ can’t stop them, I mean to say, who _can?_ ” Fudge begged.

I looked over at Harry out the corner of my eye. Whether or not this had to do with Voldy-pants, I knew who our last hope was. I slipped my hand into his and squeezed it so tightly he looked at me in complete shock. He didn’t know what I knew, but at the same time, I felt he _did_ know it somewhere in the back of his mind.

The moment Dumbledore left, it would be all down to him.

“That remains to be seen,” Malfoy declared with a very nasty smile, “But as all twelve of us have voted –“

Hagrid leapt to his feet, displaying all the anger I had been holding back.

“An’ how many did yeh have ter threaten an’ blackmail before they agreed, Malfoy, eh?” Hagrid roared.

“Dear, dear, you know, that temper of yours will lead you into trouble one of these days, Hagrid,” Malfoy sneered, “I would advise you not to shout at the Azkaban guards like that. They won’t like it at all.”

“Yeh can’ take Dumbledore!” Hagrid yelled, “Take him away, an’ the Muggle-borns won’ stand a chance! There’ll be killin’ next!”

“Calm yourself, Hagrid,” Dumbledore ordered sharply. He looked back at Malfoy.

“If the governors want my removal, Lucius, I shall of course step aside –“

Harry and I opened our mouths in terror as Fudge stuttered, “But –“ and Hagrid growled, “ _No!_ ” I wanted to run out, throw my arms around Dumbledore (a thought that had never even occurred to me before) and beg him to stay.

“However,” Dumbledore continued, speaking very slowly and clearly and his angry eyes still on Lucius, “you will find that I will only _truly_ have left this school when none here are loyal to me. You will also find that help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it.”

I couldn’t have been imagining that Dumbledore’s eyes flickered to Harry and me for an imperceptible moment.

“Admirable sentiments,” Malfoy simpered, “We shall all miss your – er – highly individual way of running things, Albus, and only hope that your successor will manage to prevent any – ah – _killins_.”

He opened the cabin door and helped Dumbledore out. Hagrid paused, though Fudge was clearly waiting for him, and stated very carefully, “If anyone wanted ter find out some _stuff_ , all they’d have ter do would be ter follow the _spiders_. That’d lead ‘em right! That’s all I’m sayin’.”

To say Fudge looked confused would be an understatement.

“All right, I’m comin’,” Hagrid groaned, pulling on his overcoat. Halfway out the door he shouted, “An’ someone’ll need to feed Fang while I’m away.”

The door banged shut and we waited a moment before pulling off the cloak.

“Well we’re all screwed now,” I groaned, “No Dumbledore. They should just close the school. Every day there will be another attack!”

Harry looked at me with a terrified expression as we made our way to creep back to the castle.

Without Hagrid and Hermione, the entire castle just seemed _wrong_. The grounds weren’t the same without him cheerfully lumbering by with Fang. The library wasn’t the same without Hermione correcting me on my spelling for History of Magic, or helping me with my charms, or clapping as we figured out a complicated transfiguration.

Though McGonagall took us back to the Hospital Wing once after the attacks, Madam Pomfrey soon afterwards closed it to visitors. When we went up there, she only slightly talked to us through a crack in the door.

“We’re taking no more chances,” Madam Pomfrey insisted, “No, I’m sorry, there’s every chance the attacker might come back to finish these people off…”

Without Dumbledore, everyone was even more terrified than before, something I just didn’t think was possible. Everyone looked glum and gloomy, and all laughter – even the laughter of Fred and George – was forced. People stuck together in packs for safety, and I never found myself without my hand being held by someone I cared about – usually Harry, but sometimes Neville, and once or twice even Fred and George made a chain with me for safety. I always offered to hold Ginny’s hand when we were walking together, but she never took me up on it; I couldn’t understand why, but she seemed to act _ashamed_ of herself, questioning why _anyone_ would want to hold her hand.

Don’t ask me how I felt about George holding my hand; it makes me feel uncomfortable, to think about it is just annoying.

Harry was constantly muttering Dumbledore’s farewell under his breath and neither of us could make sense of the words. Hagrid’s command was much easier to understand, but neither of us could follow _any_ spiders in the castle to follow, and even if we could, it wasn’t like anyone would leave us out of their sight for even two seconds. Though I appreciated having company when walking and a lot of times having my friends by my side made me feel better, since I knew they were safe, I was still annoyed that we couldn’t get any closer to solving the mystery. Neville helped us look for the spiders, but still, it wasn’t like he had much opportunity either. He wasn’t even allowed to help Professor Sprout at the greenhouses anymore.

Malfoy seemed to be even more pleased with himself than usual, strutting about the castle as though he were Head Boy and the Headmaster at the same time. It drove me mental and I didn’t even know _why_ he was acting like the Head Prat of Pratsville until potions class that day.

“I always thought Father might be the one who got rid of Dumbledore,” Malfoy declared to Crabbe and Goyle, “I told you he thinks Dumbledore’s the worst headmaster the school’s ever had. Maybe we’ll get a decent headmaster now. Someone who won’t _want_ the Chamber of Secrets closed. McGonagall won’t last long, she’s only filling in…”

Snape came by and our eyes met briefly, the only look of understanding and something verging on, perhaps, comfort we could allow ourselves in the present company.

“Sir,” Malfoy called loudly, “Why don’t _you_ apply for the headmaster’s job?”

“Now, now, Malfoy,” Snape shook his head, though he was clearly smiling at the suggestion, “Professor Dumbledore has only been suspended by the governors. I daresay he’ll be back with us soon enough.”

“Yeah, right,” Malfoy sneered, smirking at Snape, “I expect you’d have Father’s vote, sir, if you wanted to apply for the job – _I’ll_ tell Father you’re the best teacher here, sir –“

Snape smirked and walked to the other side of the dungeon as I grimaced in annoyance at Malfoy’s actions.

“I’m quite surprised the Mudbloods haven’t all packed their bags by now,” Malfoy continued, “Bet you five Galleons the next one dies. Pity it wasn’t Granger –“

Harry tried to get to Malfoy, presumably to strangle him, but Neville and I managed to hold him back from committing a fairly violent crime.

“Hurry up, I’ve got to take you all to Herbology,” Snape ordered over our heads. Neville, Harry and I brought up the rear, Harry still trying to break free. We could only let go of him when Snape had lead us out of the castle and we were making our way towards the greenhouses.

Herbology was, needless to say, subdued. Neville and I stood together, Harry now partner less but doing just fine in such a state, as we worked on the Abyssinian Shrivelfigs. Neville and I were throwing ourselves into our work to distract ourselves but I heard, much to my own shock, the pompous voice of Ernie Macmillan declaring, “I just want to say, Harry, that I’m sorry I ever suspected you. I know you’d never attack Hermione Granger, and I apologize for all the stuff I said. We’re all in the same boat now, and, well –“

I looked up in shock to see Harry and Ernie shaking hands. Ernie and Hannah came over to work with Harry, Neville, and me. I looked at Neville out the corner of my eye and he just shrugged wordlessly.

“That Draco Malfoy character,” Ernie suddenly interjected, “he seems very pleased about all this, doesn’t he? D’you know, I think _he_ might be Slytherin’s heir.”

“Yeah… I’m going to have to disagree with you on that one,” I stated calmly.

“Do you think it’s Malfoy, Harry?” Ernie asked.

“No,” Harry replied firmly. I grinned a little and Neville seemed to be smiling next to me, too.

I was continuing to rip out the stalks when I felt someone tap me rapidly on the back. I turned to see Harry pointing at several large spiders, which were scuttling over the ground in a very set direction and path.

“But we can’t follow them _now_ …” I hissed. Neville turned around and looked in amazement at the sight. Ernie and Hannah were listening in curiosity, clearly not in the loop.

“Looks like they’re heading for the Forbidden Forest…” Harry muttered. I frowned in annoyance and Neville looked positively petrified at the thought.

Professor Sprout escorted us to Defense Against the Dark Arts. Harry, Neville and I lagged behind.

“Guys, I’m going to sit this one out. I _hate_ the forest,” Neville hissed under his breath.

“Fair enough, if we’re going to the forest I’m bringing my bow, and we’ve got to be careful about us _not_ being visible under that thing,” I replied.

“Yeah, we’re going to have to use the Invisibility Cloak again,” Harry sighed, “We can take Fang with us. He’s used to going into the forest with Hagrid, he might be some help.”

“I have a funny feeling I’m going to meet some more giant spiders, and I’m not looking forward to this, Harry,” I hissed angrily as we sat down in Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Lockhart seemed absolutely ecstatic. I wanted to scream and shout at him and wring his neck.

“Come now,” he laughed, “Why all these long faces?”

I looked over at Harry with my ‘I’m-going-to-murder-him-now’ face and Harry held my wrist down on the table.

“Don’t’ you people realize,” Lockhart spoke slowly, as though talking to the mentally handicapped, “The danger has passed! The culprit has been taken away-“

“Says who?” Dean Thomas shouted.

“My dear young man, the Minister of Magic wouldn’t have taken Hagrid if he hadn’t been one hundred percent sure he was guilty, something someone the likes of _you_ wouldn’t understand,” Lockhart laughed. His tone was condescending, and Dean glared furiously at him.

Underneath my desk, I hate a tally going of the number of racist remarks Lockhart made. I started making another one with my pin as Harry let out a soft snort.

“There is a little thing called _trying to cover up their lack of action_ ,” I snapped as I did this, “Governments always try to cover up the fact that they aren’t doing anything with political stunts like this-“

“Miss Johnson,” Lockhart responded firmly, “There is no use in me telling you that you are on very thin ice with me. Your attitude in this class has been a bane from the beginning, but I can see there is no hope for your case.”

“Because I’m the _only person_ who doesn’t take your idiocy?!” I shouted.

“Miss Johnson, I will give you another warning before I give you yet _another_ detention. I flatter myself I know a _touch_ more about Hagrid’s arrest than you do,” Lockhart looked so pleased with himself that it was only Harry holding me back that kept me from _murdering him._

As Lockhart continued to say things that made me more murderous than Lord Voldemort, Harry scrawled out a note to me saying _Let’s do it tonight._ I nodded firmly, glaring at Lockhart with all the fury and hatred I could muster.

In the Common Room that evening, as always, every single Gryffindor was seated and chatting for a long time. Harry was sitting on his Invisibility Cloak until the Common Room finally emptied, and I was talking to Neville. Fred and George were fairly concerned with trying to cheer up Ginny again, who not only looked depressed but positively _plagued_.

“This year has been absolutely, completely mental,” Neville murmured softly as we sat in the only empty corner of the Common Room.

“More mental than last year by about a thousand,” I agreed, looking off out the window hopelessly.

He looked up at me with a rather determined expression on his round face, “We’re going to fix this problem, right?”

“Course,” I nodded, hiding my bow and arrows in a much better fashion behind my back, “We have to. Who else will?”

“I’m beginning to see what you mean there,” Neville sighed, “None of the professors are doing _anything_. None of the older students, either.”

“I’m not saying it’s supposed to be our job,” I continued, “We really _shouldn’t_ be solving all the problems. But we can, and we will, because we must.”

Neville was looking down at his shoes, “I hate to say this, because it makes me sound so petty and shallow, but I’m glad you’re not a muggle-born.”

I looked at him in shock.

“I mean, what I mean is,” Neville let out a long sigh, “I’ve been so terrified for Hermione this whole time. Well, that’s done now, but at least she isn’t dead. I don’t think I could bear it if I was equally terrified for you.”

“Thank you, Neville,” I breathed quietly. He nodded and continued to stare off into space.

More time passed as we just sat there in comfortable silence. As the Common Room finally began to be emptied, we both watched Harry as he sat there talking to Ron.

“You really would do anything for him, wouldn’t you?” Neville asked calmly.

“Of course,” I responded firmly, “Wouldn’t you do so?”

“If I had a sibling, I suppose… I’m an only child so I don’t really know what I’d do,” Neville frowned.

“I’m sure you would,” I smiled, “You’re a good, caring kid, kid.”

Neville laughed and looked down at the red-carpeted floor, “Is he the person you care about the most?”

I frowned, “There’s my parents…”

“Come on, I’m being serious, you should too,” Neville laughed, “Do you care for Harry more, or your parents more?”

“It’s a different kind of thing,” I sighed, “My parents can take care of themselves, it’s their job to take care of me. Well, with Harry… I want to protect him. Not to mention all the usual things – the age gap between me and my parents versus the fact that Harry and I are the same age, so we’re just closer by default; the fact that Harry and I go on adventures together and my parents just sort of stay a respectful distance and…”

“I’m not saying you don’t care about your parents,” Neville grinned a little, “But it’s clear that you love Harry the most.”

“Yeah, maybe I do,” I sighed, “I can’t even bear the thought of him dying, or getting hurt.”

“Do you ever think that would change?” Neville asked thoughtfully, “Could you ever care for someone more than Harry, I mean?”

I frowned and concentrated as I looked over at my cousin again, “If I found someone whom I would want to spend the rest of my life with… like, you know, a bloke… then yeah, I suppose I’d care about him more. And if by some sort of miracle I’m fit to have babies, then I suppose my children, too.”

“I expect you won’t be throwing that sort of commitment around, though,” Neville chuckled under his breath.

“No…” I frowned. I had never been forced to think about this before, “Trust me… if I ever put a bloke above Harry on the priority list, he better be aware that’s practically the same as a marriage proposal.”

Neville laughed again and I elbowed him in the ribs.

“What about you? Anyone special in your life?” I teased. Neville gave me the great look of disdain.

“Don’t be stupid, Maggie. Girls don’t like me,” Neville sighed.

“Well I think that’s stupid,” I responded, “Anyone would be lucky to have you.”

Neville looked up at me in shock, “Really?”

“Really. You’re really nice and you obviously really care about the people around you,” I stated calmly, “Whomever you end up with is always going to be happy.”

Neville was flushed but smiled and said, “Yeah… whoever it is.”

“Seriously, you care _too_ much,” I chuckled, “You’ll say I love you to everyone, won’t you?”

“No,” Neville responded firmly, “Just one.”

I looked at him in shock, “You sound like you’ve already picked her out…”

He looked at me and opened his mouth to respond when Harry came running up to us.

“Alright, it’s time. Neville, can you keep a lookout for us when we come back in?” Harry stated in a rushed voice as he pulled out the cloak.

“No problem,” Neville nodded grimly. Harry draped the cloak over us as we went out through the castle again, dodging all the teachers as we crept through the hallways. We reached the front doors and managed to squeeze through them without making very much noise at all. I considered it something of a miracle, indeed. We reached Hagrid’s house, so empty and sad looking without its usual occupant.

When Harry pushed the door open, Fang completely freaked out in happiness and bounded up to Harry. His barking was loud enough to wake the whole castle and I hastily force-fed him treacle fudge, gluing his teeth together. Harry put the Invisibility Cloak on the table, though I felt nervous about that.

“What if we need to hide from something?” I hissed.

“They’ll probably smell us out anyway,” Harry sighed.

“Fang, here here, we’re going for a walk,” I whistled quietly. Fang bounded out of the house and both Harry and I raised our wands, muttering “ _Lumos!_ ” I looked around wildly for spiders and finally found a trail of the nasty things on the ground. I nodded to Harry and we began to follow them through the forest. I pulled out my wand in one hand and held my bow in my other, wishing desperately that I had practiced more.

The darkness was terrifying and I wish I had a free hand to hold Harry’s. It was different when I had been with the twins; whether or not this was true, I at least _thought_ they knew more about the forest than I did. Also, there were two of them, and they were one and a half years older than me, and two years ahead of me in schooling. I guess I trusted them to have secret answers to danger that I couldn’t trust Harry to have because, well, we’ve learned all the same stuff.

We were silent as we followed the spiders, listening only for the sounds of other creatures. Eventually the woods got to be so thick we couldn’t see the starry sky above. Our wands were the only source of light and my heart was pounding loudly in my ears.

 _We’ve got to solve this, we’ve got to solve this, we’ve got to solve this_ , I repeated in my head like a mantra.

A loud crunch could be heard off in the distance and Harry and I both whirled around wildly. Neither of us saw anything in the lack of light, but I felt a chill run through me as another crunch sounded, a little closer to us.

“What… d’you reckon that is?” I whispered softly.

“I’m not going to worry about it unless it bothers us,” Harry replied equally softly.

The spiders seemed to be heading even deeper into the forest and both Harry and I felt moderately apprehensive about it. The spiders were leaving the forest trail and that also added to our growing pile of worries.

“What do you think we should do now?” I asked quietly.

“We’ve come this far,” Harry responded determinedly. So we left the trail and continued to follow the spiders at a very slow pace through the crowded undergrowth. Fang was walking very close to us so as not to get lost. We often stopped to find the spiders again in the wandlight.

We were walking for ages; probably at least a half hour. I was wearing a very large and baggy sweatshirt and baggy jeans and boots, which allowed for warmth, but Harry was in a flannel shirt and seemed fairly cold. There was nothing to be done about this, though, since neither of us could cast Hermione’s nice portable blue flames.

The ground seemed to be sloping downward and Fang let out a bark large enough to set my teeth on complete edge.

“What was that?” I whispered, looking around the forest wildly.

“There’s something moving over there…” Harry breathed, “Listen… sounds like something big…”

The something big was snapping branches as it carved a path through the trees, coming towards us. I grimaced and managed to grip both my wand and Harry’s wrist at the same time. He looked at me in equal terror as we stood there together, silently, both too terrified to move.

Everything was pitch black and I was trying to not breathe too loudly. It had suddenly gone eerily silent and I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood.

“Harry…” I whispered.

“What d’you think it’s doing?” Harry whispered.

“No idea. Let’s _move_ ,” I hissed.

“No, just… wait a minute,” Harry begged.

Another crack could be heard and I shivered with terror, Harry doing a similar action next to me. Fang was whimpering now, seemingly not wanting to bark at all.

I looked up into the treetops, trying to see whatever it was that we weren’t seeing. I couldn’t make out anything in the darkness and I was much too afraid to raise my wand.

I whirled around to look behind us now, swallowing compulsively every five seconds. I looked up into the treetops and saw, very distantly, two glowing yellow orbs. They seemed to be rather far away, but if they were up close to us they must have been the size of a Quaffle each. I looked over at the eyes, which had dark blue grey irises, and swallowed.

“H-Harry?” I whispered.

Harry made a move to turn around but the eyes suddenly narrowed when he did.

“N-Never mind,” I mumbled, “Don’t… turn. Let’s just… go.”

“What? What is it?” Harry demanded, though when he had turned back to face the opposite direction of the eyes they had stopped glaring. I had no idea how far away the creature was, but I expected it had been growling before as well.

“Let’s just follow the spiders and… and don’t turn around,” I whispered. Harry nodded and I turned around to face the spider path again and we continued to walk along it. I turned around to look at the eyes, since I heard the loud crack of the creature following us again. Indeed, the eyes had moved closer, but I still couldn’t hear whatever voice the animal harbored. I looked directly into the eyes and I felt like the thing was looking directly back.

“Harry… what would be as tall as the treetops and… Harry?” I asked, but I didn’t hear anything except the frantic whimpering of Fang. Suddenly, there was a loud clicking noise and I felt something long and hairy pull me up off the ground. I immediately let out a bloodcurdling scream in response, trying to grab my bow (which I had put back on my back) and finding myself unable to do so.

I struggled and struggled against the hold of whatever the thing was, which definitely wasn’t the source of the eyes that continued to follow us. I looked down to see that the thing carrying us had six immensely long, hair legs in addition to the two carrying me, and next to everything were two shiny black pincers.

 _Oh god, oh god, oh god_ , I thought in a panic, _giant spiders, giant spiders, not again, not again, not again!_

We were heading deeper into the forest, the eyes still following us at a greater distance now. I couldn’t scream anymore now that I realized what was carrying me; I seemed to have lost my voice somewhere.

 _No, no, no, no_ , I thought. Neville! Neville was waiting for us back at the castle! What would he say if he knew that we had died out here? What would he do without all three of his friends? Fred, and George – how would they react? _No, no, no, no!_

The darkness lifted enough for me to see that the entire ground was literally covered with spiders. I shivered violently, deciding that from now on I never wanted to see another spider ever, ever, _ever_ again. You know, if I survived that long.

We suddenly descended into a large hole, which had a giant hole cleared in the top so the moon and stars would look down on the hollow. And I could see everything that was there – spiders. Not little ones, not even tarantula sized ones. Huge ones like the ones that were carrying me and Harry and Fang. And they were _everywhere_. The spider carrying me made its way down to the center of the misty, domed web and dropped me. Harry and Fang thudded next to me. Fang was cowering in a corner and I immediately began pulling at my hair, my eyes and mouth opened wide in terror. Harry wore a similar expression.

“Aragog!” the spider behind me said, though it was hard to tell with the clicking of the thing’s pincers, “Aragog!”

And from the middle of the dome came a spider the size of an elephant. There was grey in the black of his body and legs, and each of the eyes on its head was milky white – I figured he must be blind.

“What is it?” Aragog responded, clicking its pincers angrily.

“Humans,” the spider responded.

“Is it Hagrid?” Aragog asked calmly.

“Strangers,” clicked a different spider.

“Kill them…” Aragog growled, “I was sleeping.”

“WE’RE FRIENDS OF HAGRID’S!” Harry shouted desperately. Every spider began clicking madly.

“Hagrid has never sent people into our hollow before,” Aragog commented slowly.

“Hagrid’s in trouble,” Harry continued, clearly panicking, “That’s why we’ve come.”

“In trouble?” Aragog murmured, and he even sounded, dare I say it, concerned, “But why has he sent you?”

Harry seemed to be panicking as he continued, “They think, up at the school, that Hagrid’s been setting a – a – something on the students. They’ve taken him to Azkaban.”

Aragog began clicking his pincers angrily and every spider around him began clicking in response. I shivered violently and tried to not start screaming.

“But that was years ago,” Aragog responded fretfully, “Years and years ago. I remember it well. That’s why they made him leave the school. They believed that _I_ was the monster that dwells in what they call the Chamber of Secrets. They thought that Hagrid had opened the Chamber and set me free.”

“And you… you didn’t come from the Chamber of Secrets?” Harry gasped.

“I!” Aragog was even angrier though, “I was not born in the castle. I come from a distant land. A traveler gave me to Hagrid when I was an egg. Hagrid was only a boy, but he cared for me, hidden in a cupboard in the castle, feeding me on scraps form the table. Hagrid is my good friend, and a good man. When I was discovered, and blamed for the death of a girl, he protected me. I have lived here in the forest ever since, where Hagrid still visits me. He even found me a wife, Mosag, and you see how our family has grown, all through Hagrid’s goodness…”

“So you never… attacked anyone?” Harry begged. I was still rendered mute by the entire situation, pulling desperately at my hair.

“Never,” the spider croaked, “It would have been my instinct, but out of respect for Hagrid, I never harmed a human. The body of the girl who was killed was discovered in a bathroom. I never saw any part of the castle but the cupboard in which I grew up. Our kind like the dark and the quiet…”

“But then… Do you know what _did_ kill the girl?” Harry asked, “Because whatever it is, it’s back and attacking people again –“

The clicking all began sounding even more fervidly around us and I gripped my bow behind me hard, fearing that nothing else would be able to really fight against these things.

“The thing that lives in the castle,” Aragog began, “Is an ancient creature we spiders fear above all others. Well do I remember how I pleaded with Hagrid to let me go, when I sensed the beast moving about the school.”

“What is it?” Harry begged. I had managed to get my bow and an arrow in the right position for me to quickly unleash them.

“We do not speak of it!” Aragog responded fiercely, “We do not name it! I never even told Hagrid the name of that dread creature, though he asked me, many times.”

The spiders seemed to be crowding around. Aragog seemed to be tired of discussion and I braced myself for a feeble attempt at self-defense.

“We’ll just… go… then,” Harry squeaked.

“Go?” Aragog responded slowly, “I think not…”

“But – but –“

“My sons and daughters do not harm Hagrid, on my command. But I cannot deny them fresh meat, when it wanders so willingly into our midst. Good-bye, friend of Hagrid.”

I pulled out my bow and arrow and quickly shot one at a spider. I hit him square in the head, by some miracle, and it fell dead, but all the rest of them were crowding around and there were too many for my arrows. I notched another one and felt myself began to shake madly as they kept crowding in on us when suddenly a loud roar issued – the loudest roar I had ever heard.

Harry and I turned around rapidly and all the spiders stopped their descent as a giant, navy blue beast ran out into the middle of the dome. It was the source of the eyes I had seen before, and something I had only ever seen in pictures – a Hebridean Black.

It had giant wings and huge teeth and was just _big_. It had four legs besides its wings and crept forward on them, roaring at all the spiders furiously. Its teeth were bared like a dog would have them and it’s roaring would wake the entire castle, most likely.

The spiders turned their attention to the dragon, trying to attack it. But it became clear that the dragon’s hide was much too thick and scaly for their pincers to penetrate. The dragon blew a burst of flames all around the clearing, killing many spiders but not, surprisingly, Aragog.

“What do we do?” Harry shouted, “That was our escape route!”

I turned around wildly. Indeed, the dragon had managed to completely block all exits towards the castle.

“We grab onto it!” I shouted in response.

“YOU ARE ABSOLUTELY MENTAL!” Harry screamed.

“DO YOU HAVE ANY BETTER IDEAS?!” I roared. Harry shook his head and pulled Fang, who seemed to have gone into shock, onto his back. We ran to the dragon’s tail, which it wasn’t paying much attention to, and leapt to grab onto it.

The dragon grumbled and roared again as we climbed onto the back of the tail.

 _Please don’t turn around please don’t turn your head please don’t look at us just get out of here please, please, please_ , I begged in my head frantically.

The dragon shivered violently and raised its wings. Harry looked at me with panicked eyes and we both scrambled onto its hindquarters, holding on to its back spikes for dear life.

The dragon flapped its wings one, two, three times and sprang its legs, taking off into the air. Fang began howling as we rose above the treetops and the dragon began flying, by some miracle, back towards the castle, away from the spiders and the danger. I didn’t even know if the thing could feel us or knew we were there, but he didn’t turn his head back to try and get us off.

The dragon flew very slowly, probably because it was just so _big_. Harry and I looked at each other with equal expressions of terror as the dragon flew over the forest and reached the Black Lake, heading towards the castle itself.

There was no telling what the dragon could do so I turned to Harry and shouted, “Let’s jump – we’re over water, it’s the only place we can.”

“Alright,” Harry nodded, “On three!”

“One!” I shouted.

“Two!” Harry continued.

“THREE!” We said in unison. We fell down towards the dark watery blob, Harry grabbing Fang forcefully from the dragon’s back. We smashed into the surface of the water, which was freezing, and I immediately thanked Hagrid to high heaven for waterproofing my bow and arrows. I managed to regain enough faculties to swim to shore and collapsed there, panting wildly as Harry came up alongside me.

“I AM GOING TO KILL HIM,” I roared.

“Be _quiet_ ,” Harry hissed, “The castle –“

“They all heard the bloody dragon anyway!” I snapped, but I knew he was right. So I sat up, shivering violently, and followed Harry back to Hagrid’s Hut to grab the Cloak.

“Follow the spiders. Follow the spiders!” I hissed, “Hagrid is _mental_. Completely mental! I’m going to kill him.”

“Why couldn’t it be follow the bunnies, or butterflies, or birds?” Harry suggested meekly.

“Because Hagrid doesn’t have enough sense to actually like a creature that _won’t want to kill him!_ ” I moaned as we grabbed the cloak from the table.

“I bet he thought Aragog wouldn’t hurt friends of his,” Harry sighed.

“That’s his problem! He thinks monsters aren’t as bad as people think and he’s in Azkaban for it! He’s completely insane! Completely mental!” I hissed.

“Well, we know now that Hagrid never opened the Chamber of Secrets. He was innocent,” Harry rubbed his eyes tiredly as he threw the cloak over us and left Fang in the Hut. We managed to sneak in through the Entrance Hall and up to the Gryffindor Common Room, where Neville was waiting anxiously inside.

“I heard – something roaring – and there was this great black blob that flew by the window and – you’re _soaking wet_ –“ Neville hissed.

I threw my arms around him and began sobbing as Harry calmly told the tale of what happened. I was very shaken up, thank you.

“Well then… another dead end,” Neville sighed, “We’re _never_ going to figure this out!”

“I just want to _go to bed_ ,” I moaned, “I never want to see a spider again! I’m traumatized! I’m going to have a bloody phobia for the rest of my life!”

“It’s not without reason,” Harry shook his head sadly.

Harry was pacing in front of the fire as I tried to dry off before going to bed. Neville was watching us, clearly thinking very hard.

“Wait a second,” Harry gasped, whirling around on his heels to face us. We both looked up at him, me still shivering violently.

“That girl who died. Aragog said she was found in a bathroom…” Harry whispered, “What if… she never left eh bathroom? What if she’s still there?”

“No…” I felt my eyes widen, “Not… Not _Moaning Myrtle?!_ ”

Neville, Harry and I all looked at each other in amazement and realized what we would be doing next, indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading!!! Please let me know if you like it!


	16. Chapter Fifteen: May 24 - End of Term, 1993, Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Hey young blood 
> 
> Doesn't it feel 
> 
> Like our time is running out? 
> 
> I'm gonna change you 
> 
> Like a remix 
> 
> Then I'll raise you 
> 
> Like a phoenix
> 
> Wearing our vintage misery
> 
> No, I think it looked a little better on me
> 
> I'm gonna change you
> 
> Like a remix
> 
> Then I'll raise you
> 
> Like a phoenix." 
> 
> ~ Fall Out Boy, "The Phoenix"

Chapter Fifteen: May 24 – End of Term, 1993, Hogwarts

To say we were kicking ourselves for not asking Moaning Myrtle all those times we had been in her bathroom would be absolutely correct. And now that we wanted to talk to her, we most certainly couldn’t. Harry and Neville couldn’t even go _into_ the girl’s bathroom without attracting attention and, well, to say that none of the Professors were taking any of the students anywhere _near_ the sight of the first attack would be an understatement.

But the day after the evening of Spider Doom, Professor McGonagall decided to drop a bomb on us that made me feel like things really couldn’t get any worse.

“Your exams will begin on the first of June, class, one week from today,” Professor McGonagall announced calmly.

“ _Exams?_ ” Ron shouted, “We’re still having _exams?_ ”

“The whole point of keeping the school open at this time is for you to receive your education,” McGonagall responded sternly, “The exams will therefore take place as usual, and I trust you are all studying hard.”

Well, crap. I hadn’t been studying _at all_. Neither, I could tell by the looks on their faces, had Harry or Neville.

_Well, not only is the school going to close, but I’m going to flunk out of second year! Fantastic. This couldn’t be any more horrifically awful._

“Professor Dumbledore’s instructions were to keep the school running as normally as possible,” McGonagall snapped, “And that, I need hardly point out, means finding out how much you have learned this year.”

 _You mean – nothing?_ I thought sarcastically, but I had too much respect for McGonagall to say it aloud.

“Have we learned, you know, _anything_ of an academic nature this year?” I hissed in Harry’s ear.

“Um… we learned about giant spiders…” Harry offered.

“Too soon, mate,” I shivered, “Too soon.”

So began four days of endless cramming. Since I had managed to keep up with the spellwork in transfiguration, as always, I concentrated my efforts on charms, potions, and history of magic. Herbology and Transfiguration I wasn’t too worried about, Astronomy was always a piece of cake and Defense Against the Dark Arts, being as bull-shitty as it was, I had accepted as a lost cause.

“I HATE YOU, CHARMS!” I shouted at the top of my lungs in the common room much to the amusement of my friends.

“Oh shut up Harry,” I groaned as he continued to chuckle in a fairly annoying manner.

Harry himself was also swimming in his books, him concentrating on Transfiguration, Potions, and History of Magic. Neville next to us was also concentrating on Potions, Transfiguration, and Astronomy. In short, all of us feared the wrath of Professor Snape – even me. You would think, given my knowledge of basic muggle chemistry, it wouldn’t be too bad; sadly, no.

Three days before exams were to begin, Professor McGonagall came out in front of the school during breakfast as Harry and I quizzed each other on potions ingredients.

“I have good news!” she shouted and the entire Hall fell silent.

“Dumbledore’s coming back!” Fred, George, Harry, Neville and I – along with many other people – shouted.

“You’ve caught the Heir of Slytherin!” a Ravenclaw with long, curly blonde hair shouted with a fairly high-pitched ephemeral voice.

“Quidditch matches are back on!” Wood roared hopefully.

When everyone had finally calmed down from their excitement, McGonagall continued, “Professor Sprout has informed me that the Mandrakes are ready for cutting at last. Tonight, we will be able to revive those people who have been Petrified. I need hardly remind you all that one of them may well be able to tell us who, or what, attacked them. I am hopeful that this dreadful year will end with our catching the culprit.”

Everyone burst into cheers and I turned to Harry with the widest of grins on my face. I could see that many Slytherins weren’t joining in on the cheering, including Draco Malfoy.

“Hermione’s coming back!” I squealed and Harry beamed in equal joy.

“It won’t matter that we never asked Myrtle!” Neville laughed, “Hermione will know _everything_ , she will. She’ll have all the answers.”

“She’ll go mental when she finds out we have exams,” Harry shook his head sadly, “She hasn’t studied or anything…”

“If anyone will be fine, it’s Hermione Jean Granger,” I grinned, “She’ll probably be helping _us_. Oh I’m just so excited!” I felt rather out of character in my happiness.

Ginny Weasley was sitting across from me and she still looked sick and depressed. I stopped my excitement and looked at her worriedly as she looked at anywhere but at her brothers and me.

“Ginny? Ginny, what’s wrong?” I asked calmly, “Please tell us. You’ve been all out of sorts ever since the attack on Hermione and we’re all worried about you.”

Ginny just shook her head, her lips pursed together. I thought I saw the glistening of tears in her eyes. I was so concerned that I reached across the table and held her hands.

“Please, talk to us, alright,” I whispered.

Ginny looked up and down the Gryffindor table in terror, as though she was checking to make sure that no one was actually listening to her. She reminded me of someone, but I couldn’t seem to place it in that moment.

“We can go shooting, later, I think,” I paused, “Maybe persuade a Professor to stand guard, but you’ll have some time to unwind?”

Ginny was rocking backward and forward on her chair, and I realized that she looked exactly like Dobby when he wanted to say something to Harry and me, but couldn’t.

“I’ve got to tell you something,” Ginny mumbled, directly not looking at Harry while she said it.

“What is it?” Harry asked

“Come on, Ginny,” I murmured as she seemed to be mulling over the correct words to say. She opened her mouth repeatedly, but no sound would ever come out. I leaned over and murmured, “Do you, y’know, know something about the Chamber of Secrets? Have you seen something or someone odd?”

Ginny breathed in deeply, her eyes wide and terrified, as Percy Weasley sat down next to her. I looked at him out the corner of my eye and realized she wasn’t going to say _anything_ now that he was here. She jumped up and ran away quickly, causing me to groan and sit back in my seat.

“She was just about to tell us something rather important, you know,” I muttered.

Percy choked on his tea.

“What sort of thing?” Percy asked.

“I just asked if she’d seen something odd, you know, about the Chamber of Secrets…”

“Oh – that – that’s nothing to do with the Chamber of Secrets,” Percy muttered, “And it’s rather private so, erm, don’t worry about it.”

“Oh?” George, who had been sitting next to Harry, “What is it, Perce?”

“Well, er, if you must know, Ginny, ah, walked in on me the other day when I was – well, never mind – the point is, she spotted me doing something and I, um, I asked her not to mention it to anybody. I must say, I did think she’d keep her word. It’s nothing, really, I’d just rather –“

“What is it, Percy?” Fred grinned cheekily next to George.

“Yeah, Perce, we won’t laugh,” but George was already holding one back.

“Go on, tell us,” Fred demanded again.

Percy wasn’t smiling and looked extraordinarily uncomfortable as he stated, “Pass me those rolls, Harry, I’m starving.”

We had Defense Against the Dark Arts first that morning, and I very obviously flicked little pieces of paper at Lockhart’s back every time he was turned. He didn’t seem to see that I flicked them, though, or perhaps chose to ignore them altogether. The racism tally mark count was up to one hundred and thirty eight, and there was a pool going amongst the students in my year whether we’d reach one hundred and fifty by the end of term. As we were leaving to go to History of Magic, he complained (as always) about having to usher us through the corridors, the great King Prat. He didn’t really think it was necessary because, as always, he considered the danger to be passed, though he had always been wrong before. He looked rather unkempt and exhausted and it served him right.

“Mark my words,” Lockhart declared pompously, “The first words out of those poor Petrified people’s mouths will be _‘It was Hagrid_.’ Frankly, I’m astounded Professor McGonagall thinks all these secrutiy measures are necessary.

“I agree, sir,” Harry suddenly stated calmly. I looked at him in complete surprise and dropped my bag, looking at him in horror and anger. But Harry winked at me rather secretively and I realized he had a master plan with this, clearly.

“Thank you, Harry,” Lockhart replied graciously as a line of Hufflepuffs passed, “I mean, we teachers have quite enough to be getting on with, without walking students to classes and standing guard all night…”

 _Wait… if we get him to go away, we can go talk to Myrtle!_ I thought in excitement, finally catching on to Harry’s game.

“That’s right, why don’t you leave us here, we’ve only got one more corridor…” I said calmly.

“You know, Johnson, I think I will,” Lockhart declared, “I really should go and prepare my next class –“

And Lockhart was gone.

“Five galleons he’s gone back to curl his hair,” I hissed in Harry’s ear as the Gryffindors all went ahead of us, Neville hanging back with us after seeing our little ploy. We then ducked into another passageway and headed off towards Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom, but just as we were about to get to the door and were feeling quite pleased with ourselves –

“Potter! Johnson! Longbottom! What do you think you’re doing?”

Professor McGonagall was looking at us all with a very, _very_ angry face.

“We… were…” I stammered, “Uh… we were going to… to go and see… uh…”

“Hermione,” Harry responded firmly. We all looked at him, Neville and I having trouble veiling our shock.

“We haven’t seen her for ages, Professor,” Harry continued, stepping on my foot and Neville catching on on his own, “and we thought we’d sneak into the hospital wing, you know, and tell her the Mandrakes are nearly ready, and, er, not to worry –“

 _Yes, because you can talk to a petrified person… Harry you are a_ prat _,_ I thought in annoyance. Professor McGonagall wasn’t saying anything and I was convinced she was going to explode.

But it was in a rather hoarse voice that she replied, “Of course. Of course, I realize this has all been hardest on the friends of those who have been… I quite understand. Yes, Potter, of course you may visit Miss Granger. I will inform Professor Binns where you’ve gone. Tell Madam Pomfrey I have given my permission.”

Harry, Neville and I walked away, amazed that we had managed to avoid any punishment or reprimand. I could hear McGonagall blowing her nose behind us.

We reached the Hospital Wing and entered inside, though Pomfrey was reluctant about it.

“There really isn’t any point in talking to a petrified person,” she muttered angrily. But we all sat next to her calmly, Harry taking her outstretched hand in his again. I looked down at her blank face sadly, but I reminded myself repeatedly that she would be OK again very, very soon. Neville next to me just looked at her with determination on his face.

“Do you honestly think she saw the attacker, though, if they snuck up on her?” I sighed calmly, “I just don’t want this person to get away with it…”

Harry was still looking down at Hermione’s hand, and was frowning.

“What is it, Harry?” Neville asked.

He frowned, playing with her hand, seemingly trying to uncurl it.

“Don’t hurt her, Harry,” I hissed under my breath.

“There’s a piece of paper in her hand,” he responded in equal quietness.

“Well, then, get it out, I guess,” I muttered in amazement. Hermione tore a piece of paper out of a library book? Why, that was sacrilege in her eyes! Neville kept watch and blocked Harry from Madam Pomfrey’s view as he spent a very long time, a lot of minutes, trying to get it out. Finally, the paper came free. Harry smoothed it out and all three of us poured over it eagerly. It _was_ from a library book, and an old one at that.

_Of the many fearsome beasts and monsters that roam our land, there is none more curious or more deadly than the Basilisk, known also as the King of Serpents. This snake, which may reach gigantic size and live many hundreds of years, is born from a chicken’s egg, hatched beneath a toad. Its methods of killing are most wondrous, for aside from its deadly and venomous fangs, the Basilisk has a murderous stare, and all who are fixed with the beam of its eye shall suffer instant death. Spiders flee before the Basilisk, for it is their mortal enemy, and the Basilisk flees only from the crowing of the rooster, which is fatal to it._

And underneath the passage Hermione had written a single word: _Pipes_.

Harry, Neville and I all looked at each other in shock.

“This is it,” Harry breathed.

“This is the monster in the Chamber of Secrets,” Neville continued.

“Merlin, why didn’t we _think_ of this? Slytherin, of _course the monster is a giant bloody **snake**_!” I hissed in amazement.

“We are thick, but that’s not the point now,” Harry shook his head.

“Of course it was a snake! _You could hear it!_ ” I continued in anger.

“The basilisk kills people by looking at them, but no one’s died, because… because…” Harry frowned.

“No one’s looked it in the eye,” Neville murmured.

“Exactly!” Harry nodded fervently, “Colin saw it through his camera. The basilisk burned up all the film inside it, but Colin just got petrified. Justin… Justin must’ve seen the basilisk through Nearly Headless Nick!”

“Nick must have looked straight at him, but he couldn’t die _twice_ …” I realized.

“And Hermione and that Ravenclaw prefect were found with a mirror next to them…” Harry continued.

“Hermione had just found out it was a basilisk, so I bet you she warned the first person she met to look around corners with a mirror first! And that girl pulled out her mirror and they saw the Basilisk’s reflection!” I gasped.

“And Mrs. Norris?” Neville asked eagerly.

“The water… the flood from Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom… I bet Mrs. Norris was hanging on the torch to watch out for errant students and saw the reflection of the basilisk in the water…” Harry murmured.

“Harry, what was it you said Hagrid said? When you went to Dumbledore’s office, about the roosters?” I gasped.

“Hagrid’s roosters were killed! The Heir of Slytherin didn’t want one anywhere near the castle once the Chamber was opened!” Harry exclaimed.

“ _Spiders flee before it_!” I read, “It’s all true!”

“But how’s it been getting around? I mean, someone would have seen a humongous snake…” Neville murmured.

Harry pointed at the word _pipes_ and explained, “It’s been using the plumbing… I mean, I’ve been hearing the voice inside the walls…”

“The entrance to the chamber of secrets!” I gasped, holding onto Harry’s arm, “Pipes! What if it’s in a bathroom, what if it’s in –“

“ _Moaning Myrtle’s Bathroom!_ ” all three of us gasped at once.

We sat back in the glory of our realization when Neville murmured, “Well, you can’t be the _only_ parselmouth at the school, Harry. The Heir’s got to be one, too, to control the basilisk.”

“What should we do?” I asked calmly, “Should we talk to McGonagall?”

“Let’s go to the staff room,” Harry nodded, “She’ll be there in ten minutes, and it’s almost time for the break.” We all ran together downstairs, going straight into the deserted staff room at once. It was a large room with panels and a lot of chairs. We were pacing in excitement, fairly eager to share what we now knew.

But the break bell never came, and instead an announcement in McGonagall’s voice went on through the corridors.

“ _All students return to their House Dormitories at once. All teachers return to the staff room. Immediately, please.”_

“Not _another_ attack!” Neville groaned, “Not _now_!”

“What do we do?” I asked Harry, “Do we do as she says?”

“No,” Harry responded firmly, looking around and finding a wardrobe nearby, “In here. Let’s hear what it’s all about. Then we can tell them.”

We all managed to stuff ourselves into the wardrobe, actually not too squished at all. My heart was pounding in my ears again as I thought, in terror, what could be going on _now_. We could see through the cloaks the teachers filing in, all with many different expressions – some of terror, some of confusion. Professor McGonagall arrived last.

“It has happened,” she said, her voice rather shaken, “A student has been taken by the monster. Right into the Chamber itself.”

Harry, Neville and I looked at each other in panic as Professor Flitwick squeaked; Professor Sprout clapped her hands over her mouth. Snape’s hands were gripping a chair so tightly they were white at the knuckles.

“How can you be sure?” he demanded, his voice very weak.

“The Heir of Slytherin,” Professor McGonagall explained, her face so pale it was the color of chalk, “left another message. Right underneath the first one. _Her skeleton will lie in the Chamber forever._ ”

Professor Flitwick burst into tears. Harry gripped my arm tightly and I gripped Neville’s arm in equal tightness. I was trying really hard to not freak out.

“Who is it?” Madam Hooch demanded after sinking into a chair, “Which student?”

“Ginny Weasley,” Professor McGonagall responded.

I wanted to squeak in horror but Harry seemed to know I would do that, clapping a hand over my mouth immediately as my sob came out. Tears began pouring out of my eyes with grief. Not Ginny. Not that innocent little girl. Not her.

“We shall have to send all the students home tomorrow,” Professor McGonagall whispered, “This is the end of Hogwarts… Dumbledore always said…”

The staffroom door banged open again. I prayed to god it was Dumbledore, but instead it was his opposite – Lockhart.

 _I WILL KILL YOU_ , I thought in fury, struggling to rip free of Harry and now, Neville’s, grips.

“So sorry – dozed off – what have I missed?” he beamed around the room.

All the teachers were looking at Lockhart with pure loathing, and I knew that the only reason Lockhart hadn’t gotten me thrown out was because the teachers had been sticking up for me, because they agreed with me.

_Oh, what does that matter now. Ginny…_

Snape stepped forward and stated, masking most of his hatred, “Just the man. The very man. A girl has been snatched by the monster, Lockhart. Taken into the Chamber of Secrets itself. Your moment has come at last.”

“That’s right, Gilderoy,” Professor Sprout exclaimed, “Weren’t you just saying last night that you’ve known all along where the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets is?”

“Well, well, I… ah…” Lockhart sputtered.

“Yes, didn’t you tell me you were sure you knew what was inside it?” Professor Flitwick piped up.

“D-did I? I don’t recall –“

“I certainly remember you saying you were sorry you hadn’t had a crack at the monster before Hagrid was arrested. Didn’t you say that the whole affair had been bumbled, and that you should have been given a free reign from the first?” McGonagall commented, her voice very nearly a sneer.

Lockhart was clearly panicking which gave me a sick, sick pleasure.

“I – I never really – you may have misunderstood –“

“We’ll leave it to you, then, Gilderoy,” Professor McGonagall declared decisively, “Tonight will be an excellent time to do it. We’ll make sure everyone’s out of your way. You’ll be able to tackle the monster all by yourself. A free rein at last.”

Lockhart looked panicky, pathetic, and feeble as he responded, “V-very well… I’ll – I’ll be in my office, getting – getting ready.”

And then he left in a flash of purple robes.

“Right,” Professor McGonagall looked as though she had stepped in dragon dung, “that’s got _him_ out from under our feet. The Heads of Houses should go and inform their students what has happened. Tell them the Hogwarts Express will take them home first thing tomorrow. Will the rest of you please make sure no students have been left outside their dormitories.”

I couldn’t take it anymore. I burst out of the wardrobe and shouted, “WAIT!” All the teachers looked around at me, still dishelveled with the stains of my tears on my cheeks. Harry and Neville, both realizing they couldn’t stop me, stumbled out in defeat.

“Miss – Johnson – what are you doing out of the –“ Professor McGonagall couldn’t seem to be able to say anything at all at this point.

“We figured out what’s down there, and – and – “ I swallowed, “Maybe – how to stop it?”

Everyone’s eyes were wide at my last declaration. True, I had no _clue_ how to stop it, but I was grasping at straws.

“Enlighten us, Miss Johnson,” Snape ordered in as calm of a voice as he could muster.

“It’s a basilisk. The… the monster is a basilisk,” I croaked, “Harry’s been hearing voices all year – we just haven’t told you because you’d obviously think he was mental. And… And he’s been hearing the voices inside the wall. Well when we visited Hermione earlier, we saw she had a piece of paper in her hand, and it was all about the basilisk – it’s a giant snake that can live for hundreds of years, so that’s why Harry could understand it, he’s a – he’s a parseltongue – and it kills with its eyes, when you look into it, but no one’s _actually_ looked into its eyes, just into its reflection or something similar – Mrs. Norris into the water, Colin through his camera, Justin through Nearly Headless Nick, and Hermione and the Ravenclaw Girl with the mirror, so they were all petrified… and those roosters were getting killed because the Heir didn’t want them around, the cry of a rooster is fatal to a basilisk… And there’s been all these spiders leaving the castle in droves lately, dunno if you’ve… if you’ve seen them, but they flee from basilisks, they’re mortal enemies… And Hermione figured out the basilisk’s been hiding from everyone by traveling in the plumbing, which is _why_ Harry heard it in the walls…”

Everyone was looking at me with wide eyes.

“And… well, we know where the entrance to the chamber is, we think, because if it’s traveling through plumbing then it’s probably coming through a bathroom, and well, fifty years ago the Chamber was opened, we know, and someone – a girl – died, so we figured it had to be Moaning Myrtle, she was killed in a bathroom, _the_ bathroom she stays in now, she’s never left, and – and – and the entrance is down there, so if we could… somehow… get down there – Harry probably could, since I figure you enter with parseltongue and everything – we could defeat it,” I finished, “We’ve _got_ to, we’ve just _got_ to.”

Professor McGonagall looked amazed, “That is amazing deduction work, Miss Johnson, Mr. Potter, Mr. Longbottom. And it would be wonderful if any of us _could_ defeat a basilisk…”

“Harry could,” I responded firmly, “He’s a parselmouth, he can do it, and if we got some roosters here –“

“Be that as it may, we still don’t know who the Heir is, and Miss Weasley is still in all likelihood dead,” Professor McGonagall sighed, “And I still don’t see how Mr. Potter or _anyone_ could defeat a basilisk.”

“I disagree about Ginny! I think we still have time!” I blurted out.

Now everyone looked at me, not with amazement, but pity.

“Miss Johnson, if the monster _is_ a basilisk like you say, then Miss Weasley has been alone with it for hours and I really don’t think –“ Professor McGonagall dissuaded kindly.

“Here’s the thing, though – if the Heir just wanted to kill her, he would have done it in the corridor outside the bathroom under the sign or something. The point of taking her into the Chamber is not to kill her, but to… well, it has a greater purpose; she wouldn’t have been killed immediately – I really think she might still be alive,” I whispered.

“That seems like a plausible theory, Minerva,” Snape murmured softly.

“Even so, how would we _fight a basilisk_ quickly enough before she died? There are a lot of things we are simply not _prepared for_ …” Professor McGonagall sighed.

“Let us go down into the Chamber. Let us try. You can send a Professor with us, or two or three, we don’t care, but we can’t just _sit here_ ,” I begged.

“All _three of you_?” Professor McGonagall gasped, “No, I will _not_ –“

“Professor, we would have done it secretly anyway. It’s what we _do_ ,” I sighed, “Please.”

“I would like to point out that the four of us did get through all those obstacles last year,” Neville piped up feebily.

“It is completely _out of the question_ ,” Professor McGonagall snapped.

“What else can you do? If the school’s going to close anyway, you have no more jurisdiction,” I stood up tall, but I was still shaking a little, “It would be pointless to expel me, and I’m not just going to _sit here_ when I could _do something_ to help save a little girl –“

“Me neither,” Harry nodded, his eyebrows narrowed in determination.

“Me, neither,” Neville whispered, one of the fiercest expressions I had ever seen before on his face.

“They have a point, Minerva,” Snape sighed.

“Who should go with them?” Professor Sprout asked calmly. Harry, Neville and I all looked at each other in amazement.

“I think – and this is just a crazy idea – we should make Lockhart’s life hell and force him down with us,” I suggested.

The professors all somehow managed to chuckle.

“Well, I can’t really argue with that,” McGonagall paused, “And I shall come too.”

“Will that be enough? This is a _basilisk_ we’re talking about,” Snape demanded.

“We can’t take too many down without drawing attention to ourselves. The thing can _smell_ , Severus. If anyone knows of where we can find a rooster…” McGongall sighed.

All the teachers shook their heads.

“Alright then. I can’t believe you’ve talked me into this, Miss Johnson, but I don’t see any other alternative than what you’ve posed,” McGonagall sighed again, “Let us go.”

We all marched out of the staff room and down the corridors to Lockhart’s office. We entered inside it, McGonagall leading the way, to find Lockhart buried amongst his suitcases, clearly packing all of his belongings into them.

“Gilderoy,” McGongall spoke sharply. He jumped and squeaked a little upon her entrance.

“Oh, Professor, I was just gathering some, erm –“

“You’re running away,” I spoke sharply. He looked at me in fury.

“Miss Johnson –“

“Oh shut _up!_ ” I roared, “Just shut _up_! You’re an old racist fraud and you’re running away when we could still save the girl. You’re horrific, pompous, annoying, and an idiot and if you _dare_ threaten me again I will _unleash the fury of a thousand suns_.”

Lockhart glowered at me and approached us.

“Do you _honestly_ think I take the word of your books as truth anymore?” I hissed, “I think you made it all up.”

“Do use your _common sense_ girl,” Lockhart snapped, “If you have any! My books wouldn’t have sold half as well if they didn’t have a grain of truth in them, and if I hadn’t done all those things. No one wants to read about nonsense that I make up or an ugly old Armenian warlock even if he did save a village from werewolves. He’d look dreadful on the front cover….”

“So you’ve just been taking credit for what others have done?” Harry roared.

“There was work involved –“

“ _You are a horrible person!_ ” I shrieked.

“Well, you’ll never remember that, will you?” Lockhart stepped out with his wand, “I might be right horrific at most magic, but I am rather gifted with memory charms – it’s how I’ve gotten away with all this –“

“Gilderoy…” Minerva began in a dangerous voice.

“Yes, you first, I think – “ Gilderoy began, but McGonagall had pulled out her wand and shouted, “ _PROTEGO_!” At the same time, a burst of wind exploded from her – I assumed form her wand, though I didn’t hear an incantation – and knocked Lockhart backwards.

Lockhart was thrown into the wall, but the force from the wind caused the foundation of the tower to rumble and shake. Part of the stone wall cracked and fell and I managed to duck out of the way, pulling Harry and Neville down with me, just as it all crashed down around us.

I coughed on the dust and stood up, looking around wildly for Professor McGonagall.

“Professor? _Professor!_ ” I shouted.

I heard weak coughing and ran to dig up some of the rubble off of the dark green color of her robes. I finally managed to unearth her, and she looked very wounded.

“Don’t worry about me,” she coughed, “I’ll be fine.”

“No, you won’t –“ I whispered.

“You have to go down there. Go, now, you don’t have any more time,” Professor McGonagall urged as she coughed weakly.

“But –“

“GO!”

We three ran down the corridors from the office, sprinting through the castle. We ran into, thankfully, Professor Sprout, who immediately went to go help McGongall in the office, with us lying about finding another professor to help us. We then continued on to the bathroom, entering it immediately and finding Myrtle there.

“Oh, it’s you,” Myrtle commented when she saw Harry there, “What do you want this time?”

“To ask you how you died,” Harry responded calmly.

“Oooh,” Myrtle looked positively elated at being asked that question, “It happened right in here. I died in this very stall. I remember it so well. I’d hidden because Olive Hornby was teasing me about my glasses. The door was locked, and I was crying, and then I heard somebody come in. They said something funny, a different language, I think it must have been. Anyway, what really got me was that it was a _boy_ speaking. So I unlocked the door, to tell him to go and use his own toilet, and then –“ Myrtle took a deep breath to create suspense, “ _I died_.”

“How?” Harry furthered.

“No idea,” Myrtle whispered in hushed amazement, “I just remember seeing a pair of great, big, yellow eyes. My whole body sort of seized up, and then I was floating away… and then I came back again. I was determined to haunt Olive Hornby, you see. Oh, she was sorry she’d ever laughed at my glasses.”

“Where exactly did you see the eyes?” Harry questioned.

“Somewhere there,” Myrtle pointed to the sink in front of her toilet.

We examined every inch of the sink for something straight, all the pipes and everything else. Then, Harry saw a tiny snake scratched on the side of one of the taps.

“Well, say something in parseltongue,” I whispered.

Harry frowned in concentration as he ordered allowed in English, “Open Up.” He looked at me expectantly and I shook my head.

Harry looked at the sink again, concentrating even harder, moving his head just slightly. He opened his mouth again and this time the sounds coming out were hissing. The sink began to move and it sank right out of sigh, leaving a large pipe exposed for a man to slide into.

“I’m going down there,” Harry declared.

“We’re following you,” I murmured. He smiled weakly and jumped down through the pipe. I followed quickly and I heard Neville squeaking along behind us.

It was a basically a humongous, slimy, dark slide as we rushed along it, falling deeper and deeper and deeper below the school until, finally, I landed next to Harry in a pile of skeletons. Neville landed behind us and ran into us both with a _thump_.

“We must be miles under the school,” Harry murmured in amazement.

I observed all the slimy walls and grimaced, “It’s way too wet. We’re probably under the lake or something.”

It was very dark and Neville took the lead in murmuring, “ _Lumos_.” He was looking around at the damp walls with an expression somewhere between deep interest and extreme fear. We could only see a little ways ahead in the corridor and I felt a chill run through me in terror.

“Remember,” Harry murmured softly, “Any sign of movement, close your eyes right away…”

The tunnel was so quiet I felt like I was in some sort of void of nothingness as we crept along it, all of us too terrified to move unnecessarily as we did so. The floor was littered with the bones of animals as we walked along it, crunching beneath our feet.

“There’s – guys – there’s something up there –“ Neville whispered, holding onto my arm. We all froze in place, watching in terror. There was an outline ahead, something huge and curved right across the tunnel, not moving.

“Is it sleeping or something?” I asked. Harry moved forward slowly, creeping forward, his wand held high to reveal it was actually a huge snakeskin, vivid green, curled and empty across the tunnel floor. The creature must have been twenty, thirty feet long.

“Joy,” I muttered in amazement.

“If we live through this, this is going to haunt my nightmares,” Neville groaned.

“It looks like something out of the Mesozoic,” I agreed, shuddering.

“Mesozoic?” Neville asked curiously.

“Time period in history. From like, two hundred and fifty to sixty five million years ago. When the dinosaurs lived? There were lots of huge reptiles, wouldn’t be surprised if there was a huge snake or something –“

“Let’s keep moving,” Harry sighed. We continued on through the ever turning tunnel, holding hands with each other once again and still holding onto our wands. I didn’t know whether I wanted to tunnel to end and for us to finally face the monster, or for it to continue on in safety. Finally, we reached a solid wall on which two entwined snakes were carved, their eyes set with giant emeralds.

“Green _used_ to be my favorite color,” I commented lightly.

“What is it now?” Neville asked in an equal tone of unimportance.

“Blue, I think,” I murmured.

Harry approached the wall, swallowed dryly, and murmured the same hissing as before. I decided it probably meant something along the lines of _Open Up_ or something similar.

The wall cracked open, and we all walked inside shaking madly.

The chamber was long and dimly lit. There were towering stone pillars entwined with more carved serpents to support a ceiling lost in the darkness, casting long, black shadows through the odd greenish gloom of the place. My heart was pounding in my ears and I strained my eyes for any sign of movement, wondering where Ginny was, wondering who the Heir was, and just generally panicking.

As we finally reached the last pair of pillars, we could see a giant statue as tall as the Chamber itself, standing against the back wall. The face was ancient and monkeyish, with a long thin beard that fell to the bottom of the wizard’s sweeping stone robes, where two enormous gray feet stood on the chamber floor. Between the feet, facedown, laid a small black-robed figure with flaming-red hair.

“ _Ginny!_ ” we all shouted anxiously, running to the figure and kneeling beside her.

“Please don’t be dead, please, please,” I groaned as Harry threw his wand aside and turned Ginny over. Her face was white and she was very cold, but her eyes were closed.

“Please wake up,” Neville begged, “Please.”

I lifted her wrist and placed my fingers against her. Weakly, her blood moved against my fingers.

“She’s still alive,” I murmured, “Somehow. What’s _wrong_ with her?”

“She _is_ still alive,” a soft voice called out, “But only just.”

We all turned around to see a tall, black-haired boy leaning against a pillar, strangely blurred around the edges. Neville and I looked at him in confusion, having never seen him before; but Harry gasped out, “Tom – _Tom Riddle?_ ”

The boy nodded and Neville and I looked at each other in amazement again.

“Are you a ghost?” Harry asked uncertainly.

“A memory,” Riddle answered quietly, “Preserved in a diary for fifty years.”

He pointed toward the floor near the statue’s toes, and there was the little black diary. I frowned at it, wondering how it had got there, and then remembered something Ginny had said, once –

“ _I’m writing in my diary, and I’m feeling ill, so I was just going to take a nap when I was done_.” That had been at Christmas. Soon after that, she had left the common room in a sort of daze; I remembered because I had been so confused. And soon after _that_ , Justin and Nearly Headless Nick had been petri-

Holy. Shit.

“It was you,” I whispered. Riddle looked at me in confusion.

“And who are you?” he asked calmly.

“Maggie Johnson,” I spat out, “And it was you, the whole time, wasn’t it?”

He smiled, smirked really, at me.

“You are the Heir of Slytherin,” I whispered, “You opened the Chamber fifty years ago, and somehow, I don’t know how, you managed to frame Hagrid for it – that’s how you got your award, because the attacks stopped when Hagrid was expelled because _you_ stopped doing them. But you, I dunno, didn’t want to have kids or something but still wanted to make sure you could open the Chamber again so you could keep killing muggle-borns, so… so you preserved a memory of yourself in the diary, which of course I have no idea how you did, and… and…” I frowned, thinking hard, “And somehow Ginny got a hold of your diary, and she talked to you, and you possessed her or forced her to open the chamber and attack people – _that’s_ why there weren’t any attacks for four months, because Harry had the diary so you couldn’t possess Ginny, but so soon after she stole the diary back the attacks started again, and that’s why it’s down here, and why you’re both here… but I still don’t understand… why she’s…”

“She’s good, this one,” Riddle smiled slyly, “Ginny mentioned you, you’re Harry Potter’s adopted sister, aren’t you? Quite clever of you to figure all that out.”

Harry looked completely shocked and Neville still looked rather confused.

Riddle, during my explanation, had picked up Harry’s wand and was twirling it between his fingers.

“Give me my wand,” Harry whispered dangerously.

“Oh, you won’t be needing it,” Riddle smiled wider, “Your dear sister left out some parts of the puzzle, I’m afraid.”

I raised my wand and hissed, “Give him back his wand.” But Riddle waved it instead and both my wand and Neville’s wand came flying out of our hands and into his.

“Three wands in one day, why, I should start a shop,” Riddle commented sarcastically as Neville and I both shouted in protest.

“And who’s the last one, then?” he asked as he pocketed the wands, “The one with the dumb expression on his face.”

“He’s not _dumb_ ,” I snapped, “He’s brilliant –“

“Neville Longbottom,” Neville responded feebly.

“Huh, Ginny never mentioned _you_ ,” Riddle commented, “You must be rather unimportant.”

I hissed in anger but stayed my ground, painfully aware that we were completely unarmed.

“How did Ginny get like this?” Harry asked in a surprisingly calm voice.

“Well, she opened her heart and spilled all her secrets to an invisible stranger – _me_. She wrote it in it for months and months, telling me all of her pitiful worries and woes – how her brothers _tease_ her, how she had to come to school with secondhand books and robes, how she didn’t think famous, good, great Harry Potter would _ever_ like her,” Riddle was staring only at Harry now, with an almost hungry look in them.

“It’s very _boring_ , having to listen to the silly little troubles of an eleven-year-old-girl, but I was patient. I wrote back. I was sympathetic. I was kind. Ginny simply _loved_ me. ‘ _No one’s ever understood me like you, Tom… I’m so glad I’ve got this diary to confide in… it’s like having a friend I can carry around in my pocket…_ ” Riddle laughed, cruelly and in a high pitch. The hairs stood up on my arm and the back of my neck as I looked over at Neville out the corner of my eye in a panic.

“If I say so myself, I’ve always been able to charm the people I needed. So Ginny poured out her soul to me, and her soul happened to be exactly what I wanted… I grew stronger and stronger on a diet of her deepest fears, her darker secrets. I grew powerful, far more powerful than little Miss Weasley. Powerful enough to start feeding Miss Weasley a few of _my_ secrets, to start pouring a little of _my_ soul back into _her_.”

“So she opened the Chamber of Secrets,” Harry spat angrily.

“Yes,” Riddle smiled, “Of course, she didn’t _know_ what she was doing at first. It was very amusing. I wish you could have seen her new diary entries… far more interesting, they became… _Dear Tom_ ,” he recited in a mocking, girly voice, “ _I think I’m losing my memory. There are rooster feathers all over my robes and I don’t know how they got there. Dear Tom, I can’t remember what I did on the night of Halloween, but a cat was attacked and I’ve got paint all down my front. Dear Tom, everyone keeps telling me I’m pale and not myself, I think Percy suspects me and Fred and George have got Harry’s sister to try and look after me… There was another attack today and I don’t know where I was, Tom, what am I going to do? I think I’m going mad… I think I’m the one attacking everyone, Tom, but Maggie’s so nice to me it makes me feel so guilty, how am I supposed to tell her I’m hurting people and don’t deserve her respect, Tom?”_ Riddle smiled even crueler at me.

“It wasn’t her, it was you, using her as a pawn,” I hissed, “My respect for her has only grown.”

“Well, it will be a rather posthumous respect, won’t it? But it took a very long time for stupid little Ginny to stop trusting her diary. She finally became suspicious and tried to dispose of it – thanks to you, I found out later, Johnson. And that’s where _you_ came in, Harry. You found it, and I couldn’t have been more delighted. Of all the people who could have picked it up, it was _you_ , the very person I was most anxious to meet…” Riddle continued.

Another lightbulb went off in my brain as I sat there, listening to this. _One – Harry Potter was destined as the only person who could defeat Lord Voldypants. Two, Snape told me that Lord Voldypants was a parselmouth, like Harry. Three, Riddle was anxious to meet Harry – he probably knew all about Harry from Ginny gushing about him. Four – Riddle was pure evil, Voldemort was pure evil –_

“How many pure evil guys can exist?” I whispered allowed in Riddle’s brief pause.

“Now now, Johnson, let’s not ruin the surprise for your apparently idiotic adopted brother,” Riddle simpered. I glared at him and wanted to rush forward and _strangle_ him.

“Wait, _what –_ “ Harry and Neville both gasped.

“I’ll get to it, Harry Potter and Neville Longbottom. You see, Ginny told me all about you, Harry – Your whole _fascinating_ history. I knew I must find out more about you, talk to you, meet you if I could. So I decided to show you my famous capture of that great oaf, Hagrid, to gain your trust,” Riddle continued.

“You framed him,” Harry hissed in fury.

“It was my word against Hagrid’s, and let’s just say, his record when it came to dangerous beasts was against him,” Riddle smirked, “Only Dumbledore seemed to think Hagrid was innocent. He persuaded Headmaster Dippet to keep Hagrid and train him as gamekeeper… Dumbledore might have guessed… he never seemed to like me as much as the other teachers did….”

“Bet he saw right through you,” Neville sneered.

“Well, he certainly kept an annoyingly close watch on me after Hagrid was expelled. I knew it wouldn’t be safe to open the Chamber again while I was still at school. But I wasn’t going to waste those long years I’d spent searching for it. I decided to leave behind a diary, preserving my sixteen-year-old self in its pages, so that one day, with luck, I would be able to lead another in my footsteps, and finish Salazar Slytherin’s noble work.”

“Well, you haven’t finished it,” Harry declared triumphantly, “No one’s died this time, not even the cat. In a few hours the Mandrake Draught will be ready and everyone who was Petrified will be all right again –“

“Haven’t I already told you that killing Mudbloods doesn’t matter to me anymore? For many months now, my new target has been… _you_ ,” Riddle declared softly.

 _Of Course it was, Lord Voldy-Pants_.

“Imagine how angry I was when the next time my diary was opened, it was Ginny who was writing to me, not you. She saw you with the diary, you see, and panicked. What if you found out how to work it, and I repeated all her secrets to you, or told you who’d been strangling roosters? So the brat stole it back and it was clear to me you were on the trail of Slytherin’s Heir. From everything Ginny had told me about you, I knew you would go to any lengths to solve the mystery – particularly if one of your best friends was attacked. And Ginny had told me the whole school was buzzing because you could speak Parseltongue, so I made Ginny write her own farewell on the wall and come down here to wait. She struggled and cried and became _very_ boring. But there isn’t much life left in her… She put too much into the diary, into me. Enough to let me leave its pages at last… I have been waiting for you to appear since we arrived here. I knew you’d come. I have many questions for you, Harry Potter,” Riddle smiled.

“Like what?” Harry spat, his fists clenched.

“Well,” Riddle continued to smile pleasantly, “How is it that _you_ – a skinny boy with no extraordinary magical talent – managed to defeat the greatest wizard of all time? How did _you_ escape with nothing but a scar, while Lord Voldemort’s powers were destroyed?”

Harry still looked clueless, but Neville’s eyes widened and his mouth opened in the shape of an _O_.

“Why do you care how I escaped? Voldemort was after your time…” Harry asked slowly.

“No, he wasn’t,” Neville suddenly realized.

“Good, Longbottom’s figured it out too, meaning you get to claim the stupid prize, Harry Potter. You see, Voldemort is my past, present, and future, Harry Potter…” Riddle explained softly.

He waved Harry’s wand in the air and the words _Tom Marvolo Riddle_ , his name, appeared there. He then waved the wand again and the letters rearranged to spell out _I am Lord Voldemort_. Harry looked in shock, his eyes wide in amazement.

“You see?” Voldemort smiled, “It was a name I was already using at Hogwarts, to my most intimate friends only, of course. You think I was going to use my filthy muggle father’s name forever? I, in whose veins runs the blood of Salazar Slytherin himself, through my mother’s side? I, keep the name of a foul, common Muggle, who abandoned me even before I was born, just because he found out his wife was a witch? No, Harry – I fashioned myself a new name, a name I knew wizards everywhere would one day fear to speak, when I had become the greatest sorcerer in the world!”

We stared at him, my eyes narrowing in hatred. After a while, Harry’s brain finally recovered enough from the shock to work again.

“You’re not,” he said quietly.

“Not what?” Voldemort snapped.

“Not the greatest sorcerer in the world. Sorry to disappoint you and all that, but the greatest wizard in the world is Albus Dumbledore. Everyone says so. Even when you were strong, you didn’t dare try and take over at Hogwarts. Dumbledore saw through you when you were at school and he still frightens you now, wherever you’re hiding these days –“

“Here, here,” I shouted, clapping Harry on the back in pride. Voldemort’s eyes had narrowed into a look of pure ugliness.

“Dumbledore’s been driven out of this castle by the mere _memory_ of me -!”

“Dumpledore will _never_ be really gone!” Neville practically roared in response.

“He will always be here,” I agreed vehemently.

“As long as there are those who remain loyal to him!” Harry finished angrily. I felt a chill run through my veins at the words as Voldemort narrowed his eyes in disgust.  

Music suddenly sounded throughout the Chamber, drowning out whatever retort Riddle was about to pose. We all turned around to stare down the empty chamber as the music grew louder and louder and louder. It was so unearthly it lifted the hairs off the back of my arms and neck and I felt a warmth run through me similar to the hug of a friend or the comfort of a parent. The music rose to a pitch that seemed to vibrate from inside of me before flames erupted at the top of the nearest column.

A crimson bird the size of a swan had appeared, piping its music to the vaulted ceiling. It had a glittering golden tail as long as a peacock’s and gleaming gold talons, which were gripping a ragged bundle and a wooden stick.

The bird flew straight towards us and dropped the hat in Neville’s hands and the wooden items into mine, before landing on Harry’s shoulder. I looked in shock – the bird had delivered my bow and arrows to me. I quickly put on the quiver and notched an arrow and Neville stared down at the bundle in confusion. I could see it was the Sorting Hat. The bird perched on Harry’s shoulder and looked steadily at Riddle.

“That’s a phoenix…” Riddle stared shrewdly back at the bird.

“ _Fawkes?_ ” Harry breathed, and I recognized the name of Dumbledore’s pet.

“And _that_ ,” Riddle pointed at the hat in Neville’s hands, “Is the old school Sorting Hat. And those are useless, outdated muggle weapons,” he nodded at me and suddenly began laughing in that cold, high pitch again. I raised the arrow and glared in fury.

“Don’t bother with that, Johnson. I’m not fully formed yet, it’ll just go right through me,” Riddle smiled coldly. I lowered the bow and glared even more.

“This is what Dumbledore sends his defenders! A songbird, a useless weapon and an old hat! Do you feel brave, Harry Potter, Neville Longbottom and Maggie Johnson? Do you feel _safe_ now?” Riddle mocked.

“Wherever my mates are, I am safe in some way,” Harry murmured softly. Riddle laughed even louder but Neville and I nodded in fierce agreement.

“Nay, Harry Potter. Now you simply get to see two people you care about – one of them the person you care about the very most – be murdered in front of your very eyes, right before you are murdered yourself. But back to business, Harry,” Riddle was smiling widely again, “Twice – in _your_ past, in _my_ future, we have met. And twice I failed to kill you. _How did you survive?_ Tell me everything. The longer you talk,” he continued softly, “The longer you three survive.”

Harry was thinking rapidly on his feet before finally saying, “No one knows why you lost your powers when you attacked me. I don’t know myself. But I know why you couldn’t _kill_ me. Because my mother died to save me. My common _muggle-born_ mother,” he spat, “She stopped you killing me. And I’ve seen the real you. I saw you last year. You’re a wreck. You’re barely alive. That’s where all your power got you. You’re in hiding, you’re ugly, you’re foul –“

Riddle’s face contorted and then he forced another smile, “So. Your mother died to save you. Yes, that’s a powerful counter-charm. I can see now… there is nothing special about you, after all. I wondered, you see. There are strange likenesses between us, after all. Even you must have noticed. Both half-bloods, orphans. Probably the only two Parselmouths to come to Hogwarts since the great Slytherin himself. We even _look_ something alike… but after all, it was merely a lucky chance that saved you from me. That’s all I wanted to know.”

Riddle smiled widely again and continued, “Now, Harry, Maggie, Neville, I am going to teach you a little lesson. Let’s match the powers of Lord Voldemort, Heir of Salazar Slytherin, against famous Harry Potter, his friends, and the best weapons Dumbledore can give them…”

He walked away and I felt fear course through me as Riddle went over to the high pillars and the stone face of Slytherin, high above him in the darkness. He opened his mouth wide and hissed, and I couldn’t understand a word he said as the mouth of the gigantic stone face opened to reveal a huge black hole – and something was stirring inside the statue’s mouth, something was slithering up from the depths.

 _Shit!_ I thought in a panic and closed my eyes immediately. I prayed that Harry and Neville had done the same. My arrows were no use, because I couldn’t even take the chance to look at the thing. I wanted to start crying but I forced my eyes shut.

Something huge hit the stone floor of the Chamber. I knew what was happening, I could sense it clearly, and I heard Riddle hiss again.

I felt Harry grab onto me and I hoped he had grabbed onto Neville on his other side as he dragged us sideways, running along the Chamber. We sprinted as fast as we could, stumbling due to our blindness, running down the long wet Chamber. I could hear Voldemort laughing in the background as I blindly shot an arrow behind me, my shoes ramming against the damp floor. I heard the great snake hiss in anger and I felt proud to at least have hit the thing _somewhere_.

Suddenly, I felt someone trip, and I felt terrible that one of my last thoughts in life was going to be _NEVILLE YOU CLUMSY OAF_. I felt something heavy and cold smash into me and I began whimpering along with Neville, who had been for a long time now. I fell to the ground in pain and I braced myself for the fangs that were sure to sink into me –

But then I heard a mad hissing; something was thrashing wildly off of the pillars.

I let my eyes open a slight crack, as I figured I was dead anyway I might as well know what was going on. I looked up to see the giant snake, a bright poisonous green, thick as an oak tree, was high in the air and its head was weaving drunkenly through the pillars. Fawkes was soaring around its head, and the basilisk was snapping furiously at him with fangs long and thin as sabers. Fawkes dived, the golden beak sunk out of sight and a sudden shower of dark blood spattered the floor. The snake’s tail thrashed wildly and narrowly missed Neville. It turned, suddenly, before I could close my eyes – but I was safe. We all were safe. The eyes had been punctured by the phoenix and blood was streaming to the floor from them, the sockets hollow, red and raw.

“WE CAN LOOK AT IT NOW!” I shouted. Neville nearby opened his eyes and I could see Harry had already had his open, too.

Riddle was screaming in angry parseltongue as the snake swayed in confusion, still deadly with its teeth. Fawkes continued to attack it as Neville looked down into the hat desperately

“ _We need help!_ ” he shouted into it, clearly not thinking straight. But suddenly, something glistening appeared inside the hat, the handle glittering with rubies. Neville pulled it out in confusion, somehow managing to hold onto the hilt despite its weight. It actually looked rather natural in his hands, and he held it with surprising ease.

Riddle hissed even louder in anger as we all got to our feet. Fawkes returned to Harry’s shoulder, a weapon of Harry’s own, as we all approached the Snake. Neville no longer looked at ease, instead he looked terrified as he lunged at the Snake with the sword, stabbing him in the belly, and diving back again as the snake tried to attack him. I shot another arrow and it hit him in the neck, blood spurting everywhere from both wounds. The snake lunged again at a pillar and Harry dived out of the way just in time. Neville slashed at the beast, clearly shaking, as I shot yet another arrow that missed and bounced off a pillar.

The snake roared in anger and began chasing Harry, who dived behind a pillar and shouted for Fawkes to fly. The bird immediately began pecking inscently at the head of the snake, who hissed angrily and thrashed around. I sprinted around it, leaping over the tail as I clumsily shot an arrow, trying to hit it in the back of the head. My aim was off; I only hit it in the back of its body, but the snake still screamed in pain from the effort. Neville dived forward and stabbed the snake in the belly again; whether it was on purpose or due to clumsiness I couldn’t tell. The snake abruptly turned its head towards Neville, who scampered out of the way just in time as the basilisk struck the ground where he just was.

Harry had grabbed one of my loose arrows from the ground and dove at the basilisk, shoving the arrow directly into its belly. The snake screamed in pain and Harry ran over to me, covered in blood. Neville was sprinting around the snake, also covered in blood and slime, going behind the thing to slash at its tail. The tail was cut off, and the basilisk and Riddle alike were screaming in anger. I ran over to Neville, slipping through the blood on the floor of the chamber, shooting another arrow into the snake’s side. I slipped so much that I fell into the water on the side of the chamber, sputtering in horror.

I couldn’t see anything, and I was terrified that the snake would find me and lash at me as I struggled to reach the surface. As I did so, I scratched my leg horrifically on one of the pillars. I suddenly felt something grab me as I scrambled to air, and I screamed in horror before realizing it was just Neville, pulling me out of the water as Harry distracted the basilisk, running carefully and agilely around it. The phoenix was still flying over the snake’s head.

Neville helped me out of the water and pulled me through the chamber to between the pillars as I, groaning, clutched my bleeding leg. I wouldn’t let this stop me, though, and immediately sprinted back out to Harry. Neville followed, banging his head on a low hanging column. He kept running, massaging his forehead in pain.

The snake finally managed to face Harry and he shouted, “NEVILLE, THE SWORD! THROW IT TO ME!” Neville obliged and tossed it surprisingly deftly into the air, and Harry caught it by the hilt. He and the snake lunged at once and he started screaming in pain, almost in unison with the snake’s pained roars. Neville and I stepped back and I wanted to know what was going on as, suddenly, the snake collapsed to the ground. I watched as Harry pulled the sword out of the roof of the snake’s mouth and saw that one, long, poisonous fang was sticking out of his arm. He ripped it out and stumbled to the ground.

“ _NO!_ ” Neville and I screamed, running forward. I felt tears spring from my eyes as I knelt next to him, holding onto him in terror

“No, Harry, _no_ , please, _no_ ,” I sobbed, my body shaking, “ _NO!”_

Fawkes landed on Harry’s shoulder as Neville reached out and held me in his arms. I couldn’t stop sobbing.

“Fawkes… You were fantastic, Fawkes. And you two… were brilliant,” Harry gasped thickly, “Maggie, Neville, you were brilliant.”

“Ah, but you are dead, Harry Potter,” Voldemort murmured softly, “And soon, your friends will follow you. Even Dumbledore’s bird knows it, in fact. Do you see what he’s doing, Potter? He’s crying.”

I looked to see Fawkes with tears streaming out of his eyes. I didn’t even know that birds had tear ducts. I clutched at my leg in pain and weeped freely, Neville holding me tightly.

“I’m going to sit here and watch you die, Harry Potter. I’ll even do you a favor. I’ll kill your friends kindly once you’ve gone,” Riddle smiled cruelly, “I’m in no hurry and I have no use for a painful death for them.”

I sobbed heavily, shaking madly as Neville tightened his hold around me. I reached out and held Harry’s hand as Fawkes’ tears hit the wound in his arm.

I frowned in amazement as each tear caused the blood to dry up and the wound to close – as they seeped into Harry’s bloodstream, the blood that had turned green with the poison began turning blue again in his veins, and Harry looked up at me in shock and whispered, “ _Healing powers_.”

“What?” Riddle demanded angrily. I turned to him with the widest smile on my tear-stained face. Fawkes had finished healing Harry and was now crying on my leg, easing the pain significantly.

“Oh, Voldy, Voldy, Voldy,” I laughed, “Phoenix tears have healing powers, didn’t you know?”

Riddle’s eyes widened as the blood in Harry’s veins returned to normal and the wound closed up. Harry’s eyes opened wider and he sat up, looking down at his arm in amazement. I threw my arms around him in pure joy. Fawkes was now crying on Neville’s purple, lumped forehead; Neville stood up with us, glaring furiously at Riddle.

“Get away, bird,” Riddle shouted, “Get away from them – I said, _get away –_ “

Harry raised his head to see Riddle pointing his wand at him.

“I forgot, phoenix tears have healing powers, you’re absolutely right. But no matter. I prefer it this way. Just you and me, Harry Potter – you and me…”

Voldemort was almost completely solid now and as he raised Harry’s wand I took a wild chance. I shot my last arrow at his shoulder – my aim was a little off – and this time it actually it, lodging and causing him to drop the wand in shock. Blood didn’t pour from the wound, so I hoped to everything good and holy that Ginny was still alive.

“Why – you – little –“ Riddle shouted as Fawkes flew back, carrying something and dropping it in Harry’s lap.

It was Riddle’s diary.

Harry seized the basilisk fang automatically as I grabbed Harry’s wand and he stabbed the diary with the fang, as though this was the natural reaction. There was a long, dreadful, piercing scream. Ink spurted out of the diary in rivers, splashing all four of us (even Fawkes,) flooding the floor. Riddle fell to the ground, writhing and twisting and screaming and flailing and then –

He was gone. I gave Harry his wand in silence, too shocked to even say anything.

Neville seemed to regain himself the quickest, standing up and helping both Harry and me up with him. He grabbed the sword and managed to slip it in his belt loop without breaking it, and put the Sorting hat on his head. The sight made me laugh hysterically as Fawkes perched on Harry’s shoulder and I picked up my arrows and both Neville’s and my wands from the floor, handing him his and pocketing mine.

We walked towards Ginny, who had sat up, shaking. The sight of us made her eyes go wide with shock.

“Oh – Harry, Maggie, Neville – Oh, I tried to tell you all at b-b-breakfast, but I _couldn’t_ s-say it in front of P-P-Percy – It was _me,_ guys – but I – I s-s-swear I d-didn’t mean to – R-R-Riddle made me, he t-took me over and… and _how_ did you kill that – that thing? W-where’s Riddle? The last thing I r-remember is him coming out of the diary –“

“It’s all right,” Harry lifted up the diary and showing the fang hole, “Riddle’s finished. Look! Him _and_ the basilisk. C’mon, Ginny, let’s get out of here –“

“I’m going to be expelled!” Ginny wept as I helped her up.

“No, you’re not. None of this was your fault,” I interrupted kindly. Neville helped her walk forward with me and murmured, “Don’t worry, Ginny. Everyone is going to be _much_ more glad that you’re alive than upset you made a very, very innocent mistake.”

“I-Innocent?” Ginny wailed.

“Well, yeah,” Neville smiled slightly, “You got possessed by Lord Voldemort. Lots of people have before you and they were much more powerful witches and wizards than you – no offense of course – and couldn’t stop him. No one’s going to blame you for writing in a diary at the age of eleven.”

Ginny sniffled and Neville smiled at her again as we looked around the Chamber. I was shocked the Neville was saying the name, and even Ginny had been momentarily startled. I looked at Neville questioningly and he shrugged.

“Something about defeating the ghost of him and his dirty great snake – no innuendo intended – puts things into perspective,” Neville grunted as we helped Ginny through the long, twisting corridors leading away from the chamber.

“A wise statement,” Harry chortled weakly, following Fawkes’ golden tail. We reached the mouth of the pipe from Myrtle’s bathroom, which was very nearly verticle – even if we could climb it, the amount of water and slimb inside of it gave us a major disadvantage.

“How are we going to get out of here?” I asked with a sigh after realizing how screwed we kind of were.

“Well,” Harry paused, looking up at the bird perched on his shoulder with a smile, “Did I mention how strong phoenixes are?”

Neville, Ginny and I looked at him in confusion and bemusement as he grabbed onto the tail of the bird. He then held my hand, and I held Neville’s, and he held Ginny’s, and the bird let out a musical cry before flapping its wings and taking off into the slide, flying. Somehow, Fawkes lifted all of us up, up, up through the passageway and out into Myrtle’s bathroom once again.

We were all covered in blood and slime and muck and my knees were positively shaking. Myrtle looked at us all in shock and whispered, “You’re alive.”

“No need to sound so disappointed,” Harry replied grimly, wiping blood off of his glasses.

“Oh, well… I’d just been thinking… if you had died, you’d have been welcome to share my toilet,” Myrtle explained, blushing.

“Oh, great,” Harry stammered. We all went down through the corridors to Professor McGonagall’s office, not really sure of where else to go. I knocked lightly and Harry opened the door.

The sight inside was rather surprising. Professor Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall (all bandaged up and repaired,) and all the Weasleys – Mr. and Mrs., Ron, Fred, George, Percy, and two more who were older and I didn’t recognize were standing there.

Fawkes wooshed past Harry’s ear and landed on Dumbledore’s shoulder. Professor McGonagall had tears in her eyes that were quite out of character.

Mrs. Weasley suddenly rushed forward and pulled Ginny into her arms and then turned to the three of us and hugged us as well, shouting, “You saved her! You saved her! _How_ did you do it?”

“How are you doing, Professor?” I asked Professor McGonagall through Mrs. Weasley’s tight hold.

“I think that question would be better posed to you three,” she answered shrewdly, though she was smiling.

Mrs. Weasley let go of us and Harry began telling the whole store from the beginning – polyjuice potion, Forbidden Forest, magical diary and everything – as Neville and I sat down. Neville was looking at the sword in amazement in his hands, reading the inscription _Godric Gryffindor_ on the blade.

Finally, Harry finished the story. Dumbledore stepped forward with a small smile.

“Brilliant,” he whispered, holding the holey diary in his hands, “Of course, he was probably the most brilliant student Hogwarts has ever seen… Very few people know, you see, that Lord Voldemort was once called Tom Riddle. I taught him myself, fifty years ago, at Hogwarts. He disappeared after leaving the school… traveled far and wide… sank so deeply into the Dark Arts, consorted with the very worst of our kind, underwent so many dangerous, magical transformations, that when he resurfaced as Lord Voldemort, he was barely recognizable. Hardly anyone connected Lord Voldemort with the clever, handsome boy who was once Head Boy here.”

But Mr. Weasley was looking furious as he turned to Ginny and shouted, “Haven’t I taught you _anything?_ What have I always told you? Never trust anything that can think for itself _if you can’t see where it keeps its brain?_ Why didn’t you show the diary to me, or your mother? A suspicious object like that, it was _clearly_ full of Dark Magic –“

“I d-didn’t know,” Ginny sobbed, “I found it inside the books M-Mum got me. I th-thought someone had just left it in there and f-forgotten about it…”

“Miss Weasley should go up to the hospital wing right away,” Dumbledore interrupted in a firm but gentle voice, “This has been a terrible ordeal for her. There will be no punishment. Older and wiser wizards than she have been hoodwinked by Lord Voldemort,” he walked over to the door and held it open, “Bed rest and perhaps a large, steaming mug of hot chocolate. I always find it cheers me up,” he looked down at her kindly, “You will find that Madam Pomfrey is still awake. She’s just giving out Mandrake juice – I daresay the basilisk’s victims will be waking up any moment.”

“So Hermione’s okay!” Harry declared brightly. Neville and I high-fived each other happily, him still with a large lump above his eye – though I figured it would heal quicker than usual with the aid of Fawkes’ tears.

“There was no lasting harm, Ginny,” Dumbledore murmured.

The Weasleys all left together, a giant hoard, and Fred and George patted me kindly on the shoulder as they left. Dumbledore turned to McGonagall.

“You know, I think this merits a feast. Will you go alert the kitchens, Minerva?” Dumbledore asked. She nodded and swept out, also patting us all on the shoulder as she left.

“I do believe,” Dumbledore paused, “That, despite the fact that you broke about a hundred different school rules in the process, your assistance in the end of the Heir of Slytherin’s reign of terror deserves about two hundred points apiece for Gryffindor, and special awards for services to the school.”

We all looked at each other in shock.

“Um,” Neville paused, pulling off the hat and handing the sword and the hat to Dumbledore, “Here, this is yours I think –“

“Ah, that’s where we disagree, Mr. Longbottom,” Dumbledore smiled. Neville’s eyes widened.

“You see, you remember your struggle with the Sorting Hat over your placement in Gryffindor – how you didn’t think you were brave enough to be put there?” Dumbledore asked. Neville nodded weakly, avoiding the stares of both Harry and I.

“Well,” Dumbledore smiled kindly, “You see, the Hat always tells me interesting things that happen during the sorting afterwards – told me all about how he was _completely convinced_ you belonged in Gryffindor. Well, I went down to the Wizarding Genealogy archives at the ministry soon after, because I had a hunch, you see.”

“About what, sir?” Neville asked meekly.

“You, Neville, are as true a Gryffindor as anyone can be,” Dumbledore smiled.

“Wh-What?” Neville asked.

“You are the last surviving Heir of Godric Gryffindor,” Dumbledore stated. Harry’s and my eyes widened in shock as we looked at him in amazement and Dumbledore continued, “And that sword belonged to your ancestor.”

Neville looked down at the sword in shock, “But I _can’t_ be –“

“You are,” Dumbledore smiled, “Harry’s the heir of someone else entirely, and Maggie as well, in fact. But that’s a story for another day I think. The sword is yours.”

Neville looked up, “Can you keep it for me? I… I’ll probably lose it.”

Dumbledore chuckled and nodded, “Now, I wish to speak to Harry alone, if you two don’t mind. I’m sure you have much celebrating to do.”

Neville and I nodded and left the room together, closing the door behind us as we walked through the corridors. I elbowed him in the side after a while and teased, “Hey, Gryffindor and Slytherin, matching up again, eh?”

“Oh shut it,” Neville was beat red, “Don’t tell _anyone_ about this, alright?”

“Alright, alright,” I laughed. We looked at each other again and both began laughing hysterically as we entered the Great Hall together. We were the first ones there and there was no food yet, though Professor Snape was inside.

“Well,” he stated calmly, looking down at us, “Still alive, are we?”

“Yes,” I answered calmly, “By some sort of miracle.”

“It’s especially a miracle that you are alive, Longbottom,” Snape sneered.

“Oh for the love of Merlin,” I groaned, “Leave him alone. We couldn’t have done it without his help.”

Snape looked at the both of us scathingly before walking away in a flurry of robes.

“You’re mental, you know that, right?” Neville sighed, “Completely mental.”

“Oh I know,” I beamed at him.

He looked around at the empty hall and then back at me, “You do realize how badass that whole battle was, right? You were leaping around like some sort of – I dunno – ninja?”

“Me? A ninja?” I snorted, “What about _you_? You’ve never held a sword before and you were wielding it like a pro!”

“I ran into a pillar!” Neville laughed, “It was like something out of a muggle comedy!”

“I fell into the canal!” I shot back. We were both laughing hysterically in our seats.

“I never thought I would be capable of something like that,” Neville finally managed to say between chortles, “I mean seriously. What the _bloody hell_ just happened.”

“Adrenaline?” I suggested, “The fact that if you didn’t do what you just did we’d be dead?”

“Merlin, I don’t even – and aren’t you terrible at shooting moving targets? How the hell did you shoot the snake when _you_ were moving?” Neville asked skeptically.

“Adrenaline!” I insisted, “It’s amazing what the human body can do _when it’s about to die_!”

“That was bloody brilliant,” he burst into laughter again, burying his head in his arms, his entire body shaking against the table. I snorted in agreement and stared up at the enchanted ceiling in befuddled amazement.

The feast started soon enough, and everyone but the three of us was in pajamas. Harry returned and explained in a quiet voice quite a few things about him, Voldemort, and how he was a true Gryffindor. He then explained that it had been Lucius Malfoy who planted the diary on Ginny, and how he managed to trick Malfoy into freeing Dobby, which I cheered for.

The party went on into the night. Hermione showed up early on, running forward and hugging Harry on sight, the two of them spinning around, then me, us jumping up and down, and then Neville as tightly as either could manage. Hagrid returned at half past three, hugging the four of us tightly and promising to replace my arrows that I had lost in the forest and the chamber. Our six hundred points had secured the cup for Gryffindor and McGonagall cancelled all exams, leading to even more cheering throughout the Hall. Lockhart, who had lost his memory from the rebounded curse, was sacked, leading to my doing a backflip in the hall in celebration.

The rest of term passed in a haze – there were no exams, Lucius was sacked as a school governor, and Defense Against the Dark Arts was wonderfully canceled. Soon enough, we were on the train going back home, and Harry, Hermione, Neville, Fred, George, Ginny and I packed into a compartment together, playing exploding snap and eating lots of candy.

Harry suddenly looked up just as we were coming close to King Cross station and looked at Ginny, who was back to her completely normal and happy self.

“Ginny – what did you see Percy doing, that he didn’t want you to see?” Everyone looked up then and curiously at the youngest member of our party.

“Oh, that,” Ginny was giggling now, “Well, Percy’s got a _girlfriend_.”

Fred dropped a sack of books on George’s head in shock.

“ _What?_ ”

“It’s that Ravenclaw prefect, Penelope Clearwater,” Ginny continued, “He wrote to her all last summer. He’s been meeting her up all over the school in secret. I walked in on them _kissing_ in an empty classroom one day. He was so upset when she was – you know – attacked. You won’t tease him, will you?” she suddenly asked.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Fred declared, though he looked like Christmas had come early.

George looked at me out the corner of his eye and didn’t say anything. I felt myself flush and I looked away from him, and Harry frowned at me in puzzlement. I flushed even more and looked determinedly as we pulled up into King’s Cross.

“How mad do you reckon Aunt Melinda and Uncle Nathaniel are going to be?” Harry asked as we left the compartment.

I turned and grinned at him, “Oh, I’d say we’re going to be grounded for our entire summer. But hey, it was worth it.”

And with that, we walked off of the train and back to a quieter reality.

END OF BOOK TWO

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End of Chamber of Secrets!! Please let me know if you like it, guys, and I'll update again soon!


	17. Chapter Sixteen: The Summer Holidays, 1993, America and The Nest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "When the truth is found 
> 
> To be lies 
> 
> And all the joy
> 
> Within you dies 
> 
> Don't you want somebody to love? 
> 
> Don't you need somebody to love?
> 
> Wouldn't you love somebody to love?
> 
> You better find somebody to love" 
> 
> ~ Jefferson Airplane, "Somebody to Love"

Chapter Sixteen: The Summer Holidays, 1993, America and The Nest

Ever since I can remember, we’ve gone to visit my last pair of living grandparents in America every other summer. The only year we did not was the year before Harry and I went to Hogwarts for the first time, and I now knew that was because my parents wanted us to stay around to be introduced to their mates.

This summer, however, that wouldn’t be necessary, and so two weeks after our second year ended we headed off on a muggle plane to America for a month and a half. We used to stay longer, but now that we had things to do in the last month before term started for school, and because we wanted to visit our mates, my parents cut down the visit time.

I hated plane rides and the one to America was the worst, taking forever, changing around my body clock, filled with boring people doing pretty boring things. Harry spent the whole plane ride sleeping, for the most part. Elena spent it specifically _not_ speaking to me, and thus driving me crazy. Her silent treatment with me had lasted now for over a year and it had officially crossed the Childish borderline.

We landed in Chicago’s O’Hare airport, passed through customs, and drove to the neighborhood of Englewood. It was a dodgy place, but a good portion of the wizarding population of Chicago lived there in secret, and was mostly able to keep clear of the crime in the area. Now Elena was sleeping in the backseat of the rented muggle car as Harry and I thumb wrestled during the short drive.

“Harry, I’m going to need to buy you new clothes,” Melinda sighed, turning around in her seat in the front to look at us, “You’ve had another growth spurt…”

Harry beamed. His voice had also changed in the last two weeks from semi-squeaky to deep. It was disconcerting during the time because he would talk all low and shite and then would squeak higher than Elena and then speak low again.

“Sorry Aunt Melinda,” he replied cheerfully, “Couldn’t help it.”

Mum rolled her eyes and looked at me carefully as well, “And you’ve grown, too, Maggie. Oh Merlin, what will your grandparents think…”

“You’ve got to stop being afraid of your in-laws, Melinda,” my dad laughed in the driver’s seat.

“I’m the woman who stole their only son,” Mum responded, “They hate me, I just know it.”

Dad chuckled again as we pulled off the highway.

“And we need to get you new bras, Maggie, it’s time you wore ones made for adults and not the training ones –“ Mum continued.

“ _Mum!”_ I whined in embarrassment.

“Sweetheart, it’s time you stop pretending this isn’t happening, wear clothes that actually fit and accept this as the natural change your body must go through,” mum sighed.

Harry was trying to contain his laughter next to me.

“You too, Harry. Don’t think I don’t know about the socks –“ Mum was glaring.

Elena spit out her soda that she had been drinking and I looked at him in shock. His face had colored bright red and he was slowly, very slowly sinking into the car seat.

“Wh-What?” Harry whispered as he continued to fall lower.

“The _socks_. We _know_ what you’ve been using them for, one can’t stop being stiff no matter how much I try and use magical cleaners –“ Mum continued.

“Mum, _please_ stop talking,” I begged, catching on (thanks to many lewd jokes from the twins), “Just, images I don’t need and, just, _please_ stop.”

“Alright, alright,” Mum turned back to face the window as we approached our grandparents’ house, “Just try not to do it while we’re here.”

Harry had managed to cover his eyes with his hair and had fallen on the car floor, his seatbelt completely off as a result. I looked up at the ceiling, trying really hard to not laugh.

We all piled out of the car, all three of us kids regaining our composure as we grabbed our bags and walked up to the front door. Our grandparents opened it, smiling down at us. My gran, who had had the same dark brown hair as me and Dad when she was young, now supported white whispy locks, wrinkly dark skin and brown eyes, and was also very plump and short. She was Cherokee and looked it with the long braid running down her back and the clothing she wore. Gramps was a lot taller than Gran, a little less dark in complexion and with hardly any wrinkles. He had had brown hair when he was young, which had now turned even whiter than Gran’s hair, and he had bright blue eyes. He was very skinny as well. He was Norwedgian, Inuit and Russian, and his ancestors had originally lived in Canada before moving down to the States.

“Hi Gran and Gramps!” all three of us shouted, though they weren’t technically Harry’s grandparents he had called them that since he was little, since it was just awkward to say Great Aunt and Uncle in Law.

“Hello kids,” Gramps grinned at us, “Come on in, come on in.” We all eagerly followed him in.

Their house had _always_ intrigued us; Gramps was an astronomer and the entire place was filled with magical stargazing instruments that sung like wind chimes and sparkled like stars. Gran was the head of the Transfiguration department at the Chicago Academy of Magical Arts, where my dad had gone to school. He explained that I had gotten my skill in the subject from her. But, due to her work, there were many animals running around the place, but also all the things she had transfigured them into over the years.

“Gran, can you do it? Please?” Elena asked immediately upon entering.

“Really, kids, you’ve just got here,” Gran was smiling, however.

“ _Please!_ ” we all shouted at once as my parents came in behind us.

Gran grinned broadly and walked forward, transforming as she did so, getting down on all fours and turning into a mountain lion. All three of us burst into applause as she opened her mouth and roared like a real mountain lion would. She then stepped forward again on her paws and transformed on the way up, turning back into Gran. The only way you could ever hope to tell the mountain lion was Gran was because the lion had the pattern of her braid down her back, etched into her fur.

“Ta da!” Gran declared in sing-song voice as we applauded once again.

“Where’s Cheepers?” I immediately asked eagerly, bouncing on the balls of my feet, “What stage have you gotten him to?”

“Good lord, you love to ask questions about my private research,” Gran smirked, but she led me over to a cage sitting on a platform. Inside of it was a robin, but you wouldn’t know it to look at it – instead it had a long, stiff tail, no beak, and teeth.

“The teeth are new!” I gasped eagerly.

“I’ve made real progress,” Gran smiled, “Deevolution is the next stage in transfiguration research. My colleague has actually managed to turn a dolphin into this sort of waddling, land creature. But I’m trying to go back deeper in time.”

“How deep, Gran?” Harry asked, walking up to Cheepers and looking into his cage.

“I’m aiming for one hundred million years,” Gran paused, “Doing it in pieces. It’s hard work, reversing that many mutations.”

“I’m amazed they don’t do this sort of research in the United Kingdom,” Gramps commented to my mum as we all ogled at the strange bird, “It’s the next step in transfiguration.”

“I think Minerva is concentrating on her work in elementalism,” my mum responded calmly, “I was never much good at the subject, sadly.”

“Elementalism is a crude art,” Gran responded, feeding Cheepers a piece of raw meat.

“What’s elementalism?” I asked curiously.

“The act of manipulating each of the four _magical_ elements without a wand,” Gran paused, “It’s an important part of creating new spells – it’s how the first spells were made, manipulating fire, water, wind and earth in certain ways to create the desired effect, then compressing it into a spell that you cast with a wand. But it’s based on a flawed premise. _There aren’t four elements_.”

“It goes back to wizarding Britain’s treatment of muggle magic, I mean are you surprised that they don’t approve of deevolution, I bet none of them even know that birds are dinosaurs,” my dad snorted in amusement. I giggled with him, enjoying watching Cheepers flit around his cage.

“Elementalism has some merit, though. Minerva has invented four new spells in the past two years,” my mum defended.

“I’m not saying it doesn’t, I’m saying I’m against it on principle,” my gran insisted, “Thank _you_ for having a head on your shoulders. I bet if you were anyone else from wizarding Britain you would have scoffed at the idea of giving Margaret muggle science books!”

“I was also muggle born, I’ll remind you. If I was pureblood, you would definitely be right,” my mum rolled her eyes. I grinned at her happily and she smiled at me.

“Well, you should all go up into your rooms. They’re the same as when you left,” Gramps ordered with a smile. We three all ran upstairs together to the two guest rooms in the three-bedroom house. Mum and Dad slept in the one with the large king bed, and we three slept in the one with the bunk bed and the twin bed across from them. The room was tiny and cramped with the three of us, but we made do every two years.

I took the top bunk, as always; Elena took the singleton twin bed; Harry took the bottom bunk. It was truly now routine at this point.

We then all ran together back to the kitchen and sat eagerly in the musty old family room, where a giant iguana crawled towards us. I was very glad I had remembered to bring Albus with all the family owls to mum’s friends Gerald and Renee’s house. The owls could fend for themselves but we wouldn’t have been able to leave Albus behind. There was a small alligator in a cage and a giant toucan in another hanging cage. A small canary flew above our heads in a continuous circle. Cheepers watched the canary as though it were a new meal.

“So!” Gran began, sitting across from us in her armchair by the fire. There were two large armchairs on either side of the fireplace, and then a couch directly across from it, and a loveseat on the side facing the window. There was a coffee table in the middle and the window was huge, giving us a perfect view of the two grazing emus outside. I had never wondered before why the neighbors didn’t notice the emus, and I didn’t wonder now – magical concealment was something I was used to at this point. I could see that both of the emus had sharp teeth, and I grinned happily.

“How do you like Hogwarts, kids? Of course, we wanted your father to send you to the Academy, but of course that would have been out of the way and rather inconvenient on your parents,” Gran continued.

“We love it,” Harry and I answered in unison.

“That was a rather creepily delivered answer,” Gramps chuckled as he took his own armchair.

“Well we do,” Harry laughed, “It’s absolutely brilliant.”

“The castle is so old and beautiful, the forest and the grounds are so natural and wonderful, the professors are great for the most part, and there are a lot of really great kids, especially in our own House, Gryffindor,” I expanded.

“Ah! And what is Gryffindor House again? I’m afraid I’ve forgotten,” Gran smiled.

“The house of the brave and true!” Harry puffed up his chest in a teasing way as we both burst into giggles.

“Seriously though, we’re known as the courageous house. And our symbol is a lion! Well, a male, African lion, but I still felt you’d appreciate it Gran,” I beamed.

“That I do,” Gran laughed, “What are you favorite subjects?”

We both frowned in concentration.

“I dunno, really,” Harry paused, “I’d say Defense Against the Dark Arts if we’d had a decent teacher _once_ over these past two years, but we haven’t… but the subject matter, if it were actually taught to us, is my favorite.”

“Ah! Been doing some independent study then?” Gramps smiled kindly.

“Yeah,” Harry grinned, “You could say that.”

I snorted in amusement and Mum, who had just come to sit in the loveseat with Dad, gave me a look.

“But I guess besides that my favorite is Charms, though Maggie _hates_ it. And I love playing Quidditch and flying,” Harry nodded.

“Good, good! Varied interests are always important,” Gran nodded fervently, “And I’m sure a proper teacher in Defense Against the Dark Arts will only enhance your learning in that area.”

“If they can find one,” Harry shook his head sadly.

“And you, Margaret?” Gran asked with a smile. I hated that they refused to use my nickname.

“Transfiguration,” I responded proudly, making Gran beam wider, “I’m best in the year, well, tied for it with our best mate, Hermione Granger. I love it, it’s so much fun and it’s so interesting. Besides that, I really like Herbology, and you could say I’ve been helping Harry in his independent research on Defense Against the Dark Arts.”

“You have? Good! It’s always good to have a study buddy,” Gramps praised, “However, I _am_ disappointed you aren’t mentioning Astronomy!”

“To be honest, we might be a little biased against it,” I responded, “It’s always late at night, so we’re exhausted, and our professor doesn’t really leave a lasting impression – it’s rather boring, though both Harry and I do well in it.”

“Well, that’s good at least,” Gramps sighed, “It’s so sad, to hear it talked of as boring.”

“I’m sure if you were the professor it would be very exciting and memorable,” Harry beamed. Gramps smiled in response.

“Always the kind one, your adopted son,” Gramps nodded at my parents, “I remember when we visited you the one and only time in Britain, for your wedding. We met your mother, Harry, but not your father, he wasn’t really good friends with Melinda yet. Your mum was very, very kind. She never had a bad word to say to anyone, not to our son, not to us, not to her cousin, not even to that Snape fellow…”

“Snape?” I frowned, looking at Mum and Dad.

“Well, he came, didn’t he? He was friends with your Mum, before she met Nathaniel,” Gramps continued, “He even had been friends with your mum, Harry, but they had a falling out a little before the wedding. Sad, really. She was very polite, if in a forced way, to him but he was very standoffish to her. To be honest, he seemed very out of place during the whole affair…”

Harry looked shocked with this news and I could see from the look on Mum’s face that she hadn’t wanted him to know that, yet.

“Anyways, she was just one of the loveliest teenagers I’d ever met, and was very kind to us, being that we felt rather out of place. We were the only attendees of the wedding from your father’s side, no one else wanted to travel to Britain when it was at war. But she was kind and made sure we were included. She looked _just_ like Melinda, they could have been twins,” Gramps finished, “You are _so_ much like her in temperament, Harry.”

“Thanks,” Harry responded quietly, looking sincerely touched.

We continued to sit there making small talk for the rest of the evening, clearly avoiding mentioning the true nature of our Defense Against the Dark Arts ‘studies’ to the grandparents. I suppose Mum and Dad didn’t want them to worry about how we were the self-dubbed problem solvers at Hogwarts.

The month and a half in America went by slowly. Harry and I enjoyed exploring the many-layered basement of Gramps and Gran, with all of its different contraptions, bits and do-dads. Occasionally we would go in a giant party, all dressed in muggle clothes, to explore the nearby city of Chicago with its endlessly tall buildings and many secret wizarding alleyways. Once, we went to the muggle Field Museum and explored the dinosaur exhibit. Behind the prehistoric life exhibit lay a magical exhibit, hidden from the public eye and run completely by wizards, featuring the natural history of magical creatures – the evolution of dragons from dinosaurs, of unicorns and centaurs and mermaids and werewolves and everything else. There were so many fascinating magical skeletons in there and we stayed until closing time, simply enraptured.

We received letters from Hermione, Neville, Fred, George, Ginny, and Hagrid, all asking when we would be back, discussing their own summers and everything else. Hermione had taken a trip to France with her parents for the time we were in America, the Weasleys had won enough gold to go and visit the oldest brother, Bill, in Egypt for that same time, and Neville had managed to persuade his Gran to take him down to Australia, to examine magical plants and visit some relatives down there, as a reward for his bravery in the Chamber of Secrets at the end of last term.

 _She was so impressed with me, Maggie_ , Neville wrote in his letter explaining this turn of events, _I don’t think she’s ever been really proud of me before then, even after all that stuff with the stone first year. So I asked her if we could visit my second cousins in Australia, she mentions them all the time, as a reward and she finally said yes! I’m really excited and if I have a tan when we get back, I hope you can recognize me! Don’t worry, I’ll investigate all the magical plants there – and stay away from the non-magical, poisonous spiders!_

So we all, in one way or another, went abroad that summer, which was quite funny as none of us had done so in the last one. Ginny wrote all about Egypt and how much she enjoyed it, which was good, because Fred and George didn’t really mention any of the cultural stuff, but the many, many, _many_ pranks they pulled on Ron and Percy in the tombs. As much fun as it was to read these anecdotes, I _was_ curious about what Egypt was like.

All of us managed to agree through our letter communications to meet up and stay together at the Leaky Cauldron the last week before term started; The Weasleys had enough gold left over from their lottery winnings to do so, Neville’s Gran and Hermione’s parents were happy to partake in the reunion, and my parents were obviously OK with it and Harry even volunteered some of his own gold to pay for it. It would be a rather extravagant week, staying in an Inn and basically booking out a floor, but we were all fairly excited for it.

Midway through the month and a half in America, I was darker than usual due to the increase in sun, and Elena had even developed a slight tan. Harry, having not a drop of non-British blood in his veins, was paler than ever, and constantly sunburning.  

Around this time, Gran sat me down for another chat.

“So, Margaret, have you thought about what you want to do with your life?” Gran asked with a small twinkle in her eye.

“Well, erm, no, seeing as I am only thirteen,” I mumbled.

“Right, right,” Gran paused, “I was just talking to you because I think you could have a real career as a leader in Transfiguration research, or as a Transfiguration teacher like me.”

“Really?” I breathed.

“Yes,” Gran nodded, “Your mom and dad have told me your grades in Transfiguration and they aren’t simply the best in your year, they’re amongst the best in the world. You have a bright future in my field, dear.”

“Really?” I breathed again.

Gran laughed this time and nodded once again, “Really. You don’t have to, of course, you don’t even have to become an Animagus, I simply just-“

“Animagus?” I asked in confusion.

“Oh, right,” Gran sighed, “Forgot you were only going into the third year! You’ll learn more about them this year, but that’s what I am – a person who can change into an animal at will. I do believe your own Transfiguration Professor, Minerva McGonagall, turns into a cat.”

“Oh, right,” I answered, “Well, I dunno about the rest of my life planning and stuff – I want to weigh all my options and everything – but, I would like to be able to do that, yeah.”

Gran beamed, “I’m sure you’ll be able to succeed, dear.”

The end of our visit lay with Harry’s birthday, which turned into a real celebration as presents were flown in by our friends’ owls, a large cake was baked by Gramps, and there were many cool magical shows done by Gran and Gramps with their many skills and instruments. By the time the affair was over, we were all stuffed right to the gills, and I felt like I was about to enter a food coma or something similar.

As Elena went to bed and we followed her up the stairs, we heard the adults begin to talk in hushed whispers downstairs. Harry and I looked at each other and, true to form, snuck back down the stairs and stood there at the edge of them.

“Well? What are you going to do?” Gramps asked softly.

“There isn’t much we _can_ do, dad,” Mum sighed, “We can’t pull him out of school –“

“It’s dangerous for him to be anywhere in Britain but the safety of his home! Home school him, just until the danger has passed,” Gramps insisted.

“We _can’t_ , we both have work, Nathaniel only stays at home to make sure Elena doesn’t blow up the house, he’s not actually doing active parenting,” Mum insisted.

“I don’t like it,” Gran sighed, “I don’t like the idea of that _man_ going after my family, my only grandchildren, even the adopted one. I want them safe, and they’ll only be safe if they stay somewhere that man can’t find them.”

“Hogwarts is the safest place in Britain. It’s _safer_ than our house. Dumbledore is there, and…” I heard my dad continue.

“Safer than under the care and protection of the people who love him?” Gramps demanded.

“He has that there, too. You’d be surprised at Maggie’s audacity,” Mum sighed.

“I don’t think I’d be surprised, but is she _capable_?” Gran continued.

“You’d actually be surprised at how much she really is,” Mum responded firmly, “And please, don’t ask me to go into details I’m trying to spare you from.”

Gran harrumphed fairly audibly. Harry and I looked at each other in shock.

“I think you need to honor the Minister’s request, though, Melinda, and that’s just my opinion as a parent,” Gramps continued.

“I know I do, he really gave me no choice in the way he worded it to begin with and secondly I know I have to for his safety. The problem is, I’ll have to basically punish Maggie, too,” Mum sighed.

“Why?” Gran asked.

“I can’t not sign _his_ form to Hogsmeade but sign _hers!_ That’s horrifically unfair, especially when _she’s_ the more reckless one and we’re trying to keep this from them. I’d either have to tell them or admit to there being no reason behind the favoritism. I have to forbid them both from it,” Mum admitted sadly.

I looked at Harry in anger and his expression mirrored my own.

“Well, as much as it saddens me to say so, she must be forbidden too, you’re absolutely right. Those poor children. A murder on the loose and they’re too young to understand it,” Gramps sighed.

“I wouldn’t say they wouldn’t understand it… to be honest I’m trying to save whatever speck of innocence those two might have left,” Mum explained.

“What could they possibly have –“

“It’s our choice to not divulge that information, Mom, and I really wish you’d stop asking,” Dad insisted in a firm voice.

There was a long an awkward silence.

“Well, we’d all better get to bed. Your flight leaves tomorrow,” Gramps finally said. Harry and I scurried quietly back to our room, closing the door behind us.

“We can’t go to _Hogsmeade_?” I whispered in anger, “There’d better be a good explanation for it!”

“Evidently, a murderer is on the loose. Though I don’t know why that means we’ll be in particular danger in Hogsmeade,” Harry sighed.

“Maybe he’s after _you_? I mean, Voldy Pants had followers. You probably pissed people off when you defeated him,” I suggested.

“That seems like as good an explanation as anything,” Harry paused, “I wonder who it is?”

“Neville, or the twins, or Ginny, or Hermione would know,” I responded firmly, “And they wouldn’t bother keeping it from us.”

Harry nodded in agreement and we both went off to bed.

We flew back to Scotland and spent the next two weeks relaxing at the Nest, eagerly awaiting our week at Diagon Alley. Mum pulled us aside the day of departure and explained what we had overheard.

“Kids, I didn’t want to tell you this, but upon further reflection I realize I have no choice. You’ll hear about it at school, you’ll ask your friends, you’ll know it regardless of how much I try to hide it from you,” Mum resigned softly, “I cannot sign your permission forms to go to Hogsmeade this year. It is no fault of your own and I’m really sorry, but I can’t let you go.”

“Alright,” Harry and I said in unison, “Explain.”

Mum looked taken aback for a moment before continuing, “You heard us talking to the grandparents, didn’t you?”

We nodded, also in unison.

“Ah well,” Mum paused, “There is a man, who has escaped from the wizard prison, Azkaban. I’m sure you’ve heard of it.”

We nodded again.

“He’s extremely dangerous – first off, he’s the first person to ever escape from Azkaban in all of history. Second of, he was one of You-Know-Who’s top followers, the lead follower I’d say, based on what we know. And, third off, he’s after you, Harry – or so we strongly suspect at the Ministry. He lost everything when You Know Who was defeated and he, more likely than not, believes that killing you will help bring You Know Who back to power,” Mum explained calmly.

I felt my eyes narrow in distaste, “What is his name?”

“Black. Sirius Black,” Mum said in a very disgusted voice.

“Did you know him?” Harry asked, curious at the particular loathing in her voice.

“Well, I thought I did,” Mum sneered, and suddenly she seemed like an actual Slytherin, rather than a sheep in wolf’s clothing, “I wasn’t particularly fond of him, but y- I knew people who were, who trusted him, who thought he was on our side. To be honest, based on what I knew of him… I didn’t actually think he was a dark wizard. I never suspected it. And, being from Slytherin, I’m usually good at recognizing these things. But all the evidence now points to that he was a cold-blooded traitor to our side and a killer, and the fact that he escaped drives me to a fury I haven’t felt in a while, to be honest, kids.”

Harry and I nodded calmly together.

“Please don’t ask further questions than that, and… well, Harry, promise me something. You too, Maggie, now that I really think about it,” Mum continued.

“Sure, mum,” I answered calmly.

“No matter what you two might hear about him… Please, please, _please_ don’t go _looking_ for Black,” Mum paused, “He’s very dangerous and I know you’ve handled a lot of dangerous stuff – dragons, spiders and basilisks, for the love of Merlin – but this is on a different scale, and I want you two to actually be careful and stay incognito as much as possible.”

“Why would I go looking for someone who wants to kill me?” Harry responded in a very calm voice.

“The kid’s got a point. And why would I go deliberately into danger unless it’s to save my friends?” I continued.

“That’s… what I’m afraid of. But I have your word?” Mum demanded.

“Yes, Mum,” I said at the same time Harry said, “Yes, Aunt Melinda.”

“Good,” Mum paused, “Now, pack your things for school. We’ll be leaving for Diagon Alley soon.”

We had two rooms at the Leaky Cauldron, one for us kids, one for the parents. We were the first of our large party to arrive, Harry sleeping on the muggle futon in the room and me and Elena sleeping on the twin beds.

The Weasleys arrived second, and I wasn’t entirely sure how many rooms they got at first, but soon enough I figured it out – one for the parents and Ginny, one for Percy and Ron, one for the twins. It used the last of their winnings. The Grangers arrived third, simply taking two rooms, and Ginny eagerly shared with Hermione rather than sleeping on a futon in her parents’ room. Finally, the Longbottoms came, using only one room with two twin beds.

The reunions were brilliant. The twins and Ginny eagerly came down, Ron and Percy not as enthused to see us (we really hadn’t talked to Ron much at all during the year and I believe he was rather irritated we didn’t include him in on our adventures.) Ginny hugged me immediately and awkwardly shook hands with Harry, the twins picking me up off the floor together and spinning me around in a very large circle, as the diameter of the shape had all three of us.

“Good to see you, Maggie!” Fred cheered.

“Indeed, it’s rather quiet without you around all the time!” George agreed.

“We were rather hoping to bring you back a mummy, but _our_ own Mummy wasn’t too pleased with _that_ little gift idea,” Fred sighed.

“So we’ll give you our present on your birthday, and we know you’ll like it almost as much,” George finished with a beam of a smile.

“Excellent,” I laughed, “Thanks gents.”

“Any time, good lady,” Fred bowed with a fake posh accent.

“Really, it is _truly_ our pleasure,” George furthered. I giggled in response at their silliness.

When the Grangers arrived, I immediately hugged Hermione excitedly, laughing in unison along with her.

“No one’s getting petrified this year, I’ve decreed it,” I said at the top of my lungs to Hermione’s amusement.

“Aren’t you excited for Arithmancy? And Ancient Runes? They just look _fascinating_ , it must be so much fun,” Hermione beamed.

“We can get our books later, I’m really excited too of course,” I laughed, “And for Care of Magical Creatures, that should be _loads_ of fun.”

“Have you heard of the book, though?” Hermione frowned, “I looked at the list – _Monster Book of Monsters_ , never heard of that before…”

“Harry got it from Hagrid for his birthday,” I shuddered, “The thing’s alive, Hermione, it bites you and attacks you and I had to hold it down while Harry tied his belt around it.”

“Oh dear. Did Hagrid know you’d be needing it, Harry? Seems a rather unfortunate birthday present,” Hermione frowned.

“Oh, well, I dunno,” Harry looked embarrassed. I realized then he had been staring at us – well, at Hermione – during the duration of our conversation.

“Oh, I’m so sorry Harry, I got distracted by Maggie,” Hermione beamed, obviously unaware of this, and hugged Harry tightly. I could see Harry’s face and his cheeks had flushed with color, “How are you doing? I’ve missed you – I’ve missed you both – I can’t wait for the new term!”

“I’ve missed you too,” Harry answered, swallowing and straightening up, “You look tanner than usual.”

“Well, France does that,” Hermione frowned, “Shouldn’t you be, too?”

“I have too much paleness in my skin, I can’t evidently,” Harry scowled, “You’re… erm… taller, too.”

“Yes,” Hermione beamed, “I think we all are.”

Harry’s eyes flickered away from Hermione’s face (and I totally saw where he was looking) for a moment and then back. I felt myself grinning. Hermione had, needless to say, also received the twin devils herself and Harry was clearly noticing the general new curvature of Hermione’s body. I wondered if she would be gracing his thoughts during sock time later, then immediately regretted this thought process as it lead to mental vomiting.

“Well, we should wait for Neville before we go on adventures, and gather the Weasleys – we shall take over the Alley, I say!” I shouted triumphantly, distracting Harry and Hermione from the awkward pause that had just ensued.

When Neville entered, he was also tan – so only Harry was left out of that particular little party, well, Harry and the Weasleys (who, being ginger, couldn’t tan for the life of them.) Neville was a lot taller as well, and skinnier – his baby fat was gone from his face and his stomach and he just sort of looked awkwardly lean, now. He and Harry had both grown out their hair and his was shaggy around his face rather than messy and sticking up everywhere.

“Hi Maggie!” he greeted cheerfully. I was amazed at how deep his voice was compared to when I had last seen him, “How are you?”

“U-Um,” I was rather distracted by the changes and I was having momentary trouble talking like a normal human being, “Great! And you?”

“Great,” he was smiling in a strange way and it made me both curious and confused.

“How was Australia? Did you go on a magical plant safari?” I continued in my usual cheerful voice.

“Of course,” Neville laughed, “I’ve got some specimens to show you in my room later –“

_In… his room…_

Why did that thought make me feel suddenly uncomfortable?

“– And I’d love to hear all about America, too. And I do believe you’ve forgotten something,” Neville was still chuckling.

“What?” I asked as I thought _it was those Butterbeers you had earlier, it makes you think crazy things, like that you **like** George and such nonsense. _

“Well, the welcome hug, I expect,” Neville was laughing.

“Oh!” I gasped, “Sorry!” I was stretched out a lot to hug him – he had _really_ grown, he was really _very_ tall indeed, taller than Harry – and I wrapped my arms tightly around his neck. I think we held on too long because someone – Harry – let out a little cough and I pulled away, trying really really hard to not blush.

“Good to see you, mate,” Harry grinned, clasping Neville’s hand in his own. Neville was a good half a foot taller than him!

“It’s great to see you again, Neville,” Hermione beamed, hugging him like I had but looser and for a lot less time.

“Let’s find the Weasleys and go out to get our books and things,” Harry suggested. We all nodded, found the Weasley conglomeration, and headed out in a giant pack of Gryffindor awesomeness.

Percy had been made Head Boy, and was acting very pompous to boot as he shook Harry’s hand and simply nodded politely at the rest of us. Fred, George and I immediately began making fun of him properly behind his back as he led us past the shops.

Ron was walking with Harry, catching up, though his tone wasn’t nearly as amiable as it usually was as he explained how his rat, Scabbers, hadn’t been feeling well since Egypt, and he needed to get him a rat tonic at Magical Menagerie.

“Well, we’re off to Quality Quidditch Supplies,” Fred began.

“We would really _love_ to help you buy all the schoolbooks you’ll be needing,” George continued.

“But this is a wee bit more important, as I’ve had to remind my brother,” Fred finished in a rather irritated voice, glaring at George out of the corner of eye. George was specifically not meeting Fred’s eye, or anyone’s really; he was staring off at the shop signs. Ron had already walked off to go get Scabbers checked out for the tonic.

“I shall help Ginny with her wand, since her first one was broken in the Chamber of Secrets,” Percy declared, “All you third years should go get your books together now.”

We nodded and the four of us entered Flourish and Blotts together.

The manager of the bookstore immediately came up to us, saying hurriedly, “Hogwarts? Come to get your new books?”

I noticed that there was a giant cage out front filled to the brim with _The Monster Book of Monsters_ , all biting with pages flying as they tried to get out of the cage, growling angrily.

“Um, only three of us need that one,” Hermione murmured softly, pointing at the cage, looking extremely apologetic. The manager sighed.

“At least it’s not four. Alright, you all should get something you can tie it up with,” the manager ordered.

Neville took off his belt, Hermione took the ribbon from her hair, and I pulled out my hair tie, causing my large amount of hair to spread across my back and down to the small of it, simply that huge. It felt like a rug on the back of my neck. We all stood at the ready as Harry backed up a considerable distance.

The manager then dug his hand in, which he had put what looked like the plated armor of a knight over. He pulled out the first one and tossed it at Neville. It began biting and attacking him furiously and he fell to the ground in fight, wrestling with it to put the belt on it. I dove on my knees to help him, holding the thing down by its binding as Neville hastily wrapped the belt around it and tightened it.

“Alright, next one,” the manager declared and threw another one at Hermione. I turned around as she held it out at arm’s length, also struggling, and held it closed as she tied her ribbon around it tightly, managing to hold the thing shut.

“Last one,” the manager announced abruptly and I wasn’t ready. The thing managed to attack me full on, biting my sweatshirt and ripping it to shreads as I shouted in protest. Neville and Hermione managed to grab it, but it was already too late for the garment as I pulled my hair tie around it.

“Good thing my hair’s so big my hair ties are big too,” I grumbled irritably.

“That book is a nightmare!” Hermione moaned.

“Your sweatshirt’s completely ruined, Maggie,” Neville frowned. I was only wearing a cami and a bra underneath and I felt very exposed as I pulled off the ripped up sweatshirt and dumped it in a bin. Unlike all my other muggle clothes, the cami was skin-tight, revealing the fact that I had curves my mother called “much too developed for a thirteen year old” and the twin devils, which had grown to a fairly large muggle size, so that every bra I had to purchase came from stores geared at adult women. I flushed with embarrassment and tried to pull the cami up more.

“We can go back and get you something to wear,” Hermione offered, “But we should finish shopping here, first.”

“Alright,” I mumbled. Harry was laughing at me and Neville wasn’t looking at me, staring in rather extreme interest at a pile of books.

“Shut up Harry,” I groaned, “This is bad enough without you making me want to die even more.”

Harry continued laughing and Neville was very specifically _not_ looking at me, I could clearly tell. His face, I could see from this angle, was oddly flushed.

 _What’s all_ that _about,_ I thought in annoyance.

“Alright,” Hermione announced, “We still need _Intermediate Transfiguration_ , which I think you already have, Maggie –“

“Yeah, my mum and dad got it for me a year ago,” I nodded, still pulling my cami up as high as it would go.

“Then we need _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 3_ , all of us,” Hermione continued, “Then Harry, you and I need _Unfogging the Future_ , we can go get that in a minute, and Maggie, you me and Neville need _Numerology and Gramatica_ , and Maggie, you and I need _Ancient Runes Made Easy_ and, oh my, _four_ different Rune dictionaries – we should go get the spells book first –“

We all headed through the bookshop, purchasing the book for Charms, Arithmancy, and Ancient Runes. The Rune dictionaries were enormous and littered with Anglo Saxon, Celtic, Egyptian, and Nordic symbols. The Arithmancy book already looked fascinating. We all left the shop and ran into Fred and George, who looked at my appearance in shock.

“Behold!” George shouted, “Everyone! Near and far!”

“Shut _up_ ,” I hissed.

“Maggie Johnson, the great Tomboy, has _curves!_ ” George continued.

“I will _kill you!_ ” I snarled. Fred was laughing next to George, but unlike the last time this teasing occurred, it wasn’t nearly as mirthful. In fact, there was something disapproving in Fred’s eyes.

“She tries to hide them, but they will not be covered! They must be revealed to the world in their finest glory!” George declared.

“A brutal _murder!_ ” I growled.

“Seriously though, Maggie, you’ve got to stop dressing like you’re trying to hide that you’re fat or something,” George shook his head sadly, “You’re clearly not, and to be honest, you look very nice.”

“O-Oh?” I whispered.

“Yeah,” George continued, his voice sounding rather academic about the subject, “Girls would kill for that, you know, the _twin devils_ , as you call them. And that shape as well. And your hair is very pretty, you should wear it down more.”

I felt myself turn beat red as I mumbled a thank you. I felt steam come out of my ears or something similar and I wanted to sink to the floor.

“Anywho, we’ve got to get our books,” Fred said forcefully, “See you lot later.”

 _George said I was pretty_.

My heart was pounding in my ears and I looked down at myself. Maybe… maybe the curves and the twin devils and everything wasn’t so bad. Maybe it was good I had hips and breasts and a – a –a – a _womanly_ shape. I mean… George was older than me, much older, a year and a half, and if he wanted a _woman_ … or someone _older_ who would have this, well, then, it was an advantage and…

 _But wait, why would you need an advantage with George? It’s not like you like him_ , a little voice said in the back of my head.

But then I realized that I had been fooling myself on that front. I had a crush on George, only Merlin knew how long, and there would be very little chance of me avoiding it. I liked George, and it was time to accept that. I had liked him since the Butterbeer incident. And George wanted me to give up the hiding game, the not-being-proud-of-myself game. I looked down at myself again as we walked into the Leaky Cauldron to drop off our textbooks and I ran upstairs to put on the smallest garment I owned, a t-shirt that was only slightly loose.

 _George said I was pretty_.

A giggle followed out of my mouth and I immediately covered it with my hands. It had sounded strange, different than the other laughs and giggles I had let out before – rather… well, vapid.

 _Not doing that one again_ , I thought determinedly. But I still couldn’t help dance around at the thought that George thought I was pretty.

I walked past my parents’ room to get back to the others and saw my mum was inside, so I stuck my head in.

“Mum, you’re right,” I announced. She looked up at me in shock.

“About -?” she asked.

“I need clothes that actually fit. We can do that tomorrow. And I’ll wear the real bras, I promise,” I declared, “I’m wearing one now, but I mean I’ll do it without complaint. And maybe some… cooler ones? Thanks!”

“Wait, wait, wait,” she called out as I turned to walk way. I turned around and faced her again sheepishly.

“Alright, what brought on the request for tighter clothing and cool underwear?” Mum asked sternly, “And what happened to your sweatshirt?”

“The monster book of monsters ripped it up,” I answered calmly.

Mum looked at me in amazement before shaking her head wordlessly, “And the first question?”

I flushed red again.

She looked at me carefully before saying, “Do you fancy someone?”

“Wh-what?” I gasped.

“Well, I figured the day you gave up your stubborn idea you could hide the fact you’re growing would be the day you no longer would want to hide it. You would no longer want to hide it when there was someone out there you would possibly want to attract with your new features. You would want to attract someone with your new features when you liked someone. You would like someone when you admitted to yourself that you were capable of romantic feelings. Don’t get me wrong, you could _not_ be capable of romantic or sexual feelings, but this was more of a ‘what situation would lead to this conversation’ type of thought process. So, you have a crush,” Mum explained. I scowled at how easily she had pinned me.

“Fine, I do. And I’m not telling,” I responded firmly.

“I wasn’t going to ask you to,” Mum paused, “We’ll go shopping tomorrow. But I’m afraid exciting underwear is something I refuse to help you with.”

“Fair enough,” and I ran back downstairs to the other three, who had hopefully not heard any of that. They didn’t act like they had, anyways.

We headed down the street and Hermione commented, “You know, I’ve always wanted an owl. I can’t just wait for Hedwig or Darwin to show up, after all.”

“Let’s go to the Menagerie, then,” I suggested. We stepped inside, surrounded on all sides by loud and messy animals. As Hermione browsed the owls on the wall, a giant orange blob suddenly descended from the rafters.

“NO, CROOKSHANKS, NO!” the witch behind the counter shouted. We all turned to see a giant orange cat hissing at a rat on the counter – Ron’s rat, Scabbers.

“Alright, I’m back, I just – oh, hello everyone – and what is that cat doing with my pet?” Ron walked in at exactly that moment and reflexively grabbed Scabbers from the counter.

“I just went out to get some extra gold and this is what I find! A cat attacking my pet!” Ron roared at the now frightened looking witch.

“It’s not her fault, the thing came out of nowhere –“ Harry defended.

“Alright, I’ll take my tonic and go,” Ron slammed some Galleons on the counter and ran out of there before the cat could pounce again.

Harry looked in sadness and followed Ron out of there. Neville and I quickly did the same, leaving Hermione inside to get her owl.

But when she reappeared, she was holding the giant orange cat.

“Isn’t he _gorgeous_?” Hermione gushed, holding the ball of fluff close to her. Harry looked at her in shock and Neville and I both burst into laughter.

“Leave it to Hermione to buy the murder-cat,” I chortled.

“He is _not_ a murder cat!” Hermione responded defensively.

“Oh, I’m sure he’s not, he just attacked us all rather brutally,” Neville chuckled.

“He did _not_ attack us! He hissed at a rat, a very cat-like thing to do!” Hermione snapped.

“That’s true,” I sighed, “Sorry, Hermione, I just found that very funny.”

Ron, however, was glaring.

“Don’t let that thing get _anywhere near_ my rat, you understand Granger?” Ron snapped.

Hermione’s eyes narrowed.

“Of course, Weasley. I’m sure it’ll be very easy, as _I_ don’t wish to be anywhere near _you_ ,” she replied snappishly, walking off in a blur of orange cat hair and brown human hair.

“Erm…” I paused, feeling supremely awkward.

“Well then,” Neville continued, sharing my sentiment.

“We’ll catch you later, Ron, then,” Harry declared and we all immediately followed Hermione. Neville and I reassured her that Ron was a big prat, but Harry stayed silent on the matter.

We spent the rest of the week exploring the Alley and the shops, talking amiably, Hermione grooming and fawning over her cat. I went shopping with my mother eagerly, buying all sorts of new clothes – jean shorts and pants that actually stayed up on their own, some skirts, shirts that had v-necks and buttons and curves in their general design, sweaters and sweatshirts that hugged me rather than hung on me, knee-high leather boots and converse sneakers instead of my old athletic trainers, lots of scarves, and lots of fingerless gloves that went up to my elbows and tights with patterns in them. I also, when my mum wasn’t looking, managed to purchase what she had dubbed ‘exciting underwear,’ and hid it in my trunk when no one was looking. Harry was occasionally dragged on some of these trips, and he only ever bought jeans, trainers, and his usual fare of flannel, t-shirts, and sweatshirts.

The night before we were to get on the train, Harry and I were trying to talk to Elena, who had spent the bulk of the trip hiding in the room and not socializing with any of our friends or us. I had just come back from Neville’s room, where I had just seen all of his Australian plants (with _no_ awkwardness on my part, thank you very much) and Elena was refusing to acknowledge our presence, once again.

We heard voices from our parents’ room next door and Harry and I, knowing a lost cause when we saw one, motioned for Harry to follow me quietly to the door. We crouched outside it and listened.

“I’m just saying, Melinda – we can’t just let this happen,” Dad sighed.

“What are we going to do? Send patronuses to Hogwarts every day? Eventually people will ask who has an orca patronus and a kestrel patronus, and figure out it is us,” Mum retorted.

“But – _dementors_ , at _Hogwarts_ , with our _kids_ there, I hate that idea, I just hate it –“

“First off, you called Harry your child without realizing it, which you never do, secon-“

“Right now he’s my child,” Dad retorted, “He’s in trouble, I’ve raised him, and I don’t want to see him hurt.”

“Good, then we’re on the same page,” Mum paused, “But you _know_ there’s nothing we can do. Fudge ordered them to stay at Hogwarts until Black is caught _because_ Black is hunting Harry.”

“You _know_ Harry won’t react well to them! Remember when he was little? _All_ the nightmares he got _all_ the time? It was horrible – he wouldn’t stop dreaming about it –“

“I know, but what else can we do? _Dumbledore_ can’t even stop it,” Mum sighed.

“It’s crazy, mental, _insane_. Hogwarts is a happy place and they’re just going to suck that right out of it, literally!” Dad shouted.

“You’re going to wake the kids and all the other families, Nathaniel. Remus is going to be at the school this year, he sent me a letter. I’m asking him to protect Harry for us,” Mum murmured.

“Well,” Dad sighed, “There’s that, at least.”

Harry and I looked at each other nervously as we crept back to the room.

“Whatever a dementors is,” Harry paused, “I’m not sure I’m gonna like it.”

“Well, we knew a quiet year at Hogwarts was out of our reach,” I shook my head, “I should never be surprised by my life anymore.”

Harry clapped me on the shoulder, “Let’s just stick to our studies and don’t go solving a mystery, eh?”

We looked at each other for all of two minutes before bursting into laughter at the ridiculousness of that idea. Like _we_ could stay out of trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Book three! Let's do this! Lemme know what you think!


	18. Chapter Seventeen: September 1 - September 3, 1993, Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Up with your turret 
> 
> Aren't we just terrified?
> 
> Shale, screen your worry from what you won't ever find 
> 
> Don't let it fool you 
> 
> Wings wouldn't help you... down 
> 
> Down's sitting round, folds in the gown." 
> 
> ~ Bon Iver & St. Vincent, "Roslyn"

Chapter Seventeen: September 1 – September 3, 1993, Hogwarts

Harry, Hermione, Neville and I spent ages trying to find a compartment. Ginny was sitting with some of her second year friends, which included Colin Creevey (who immediately cheered and thanked Harry for saving him,) some Hufflepuffs from her year, and a Ravenclaw girl with long curly blonde hair and a rather vapid expression, though I had a funny feeling it wasn’t due to unintelligence but a lack of _wanting_ to pay attention to her surroundings. The twins were causing general mayhem with Lee Jordan and Hermione didn’t feel like being a part of that. Ron, Dean, Seamus, and Siobhan were all in a compartment and Ron clearly didn’t want Hermione and Crookshanks in there with him. To be honest, I was confused why Siobhan had joined them; she was a quiet girl who I didn’t know very well and never really socialized with any of the other Gryffindors, except I’d see her talking occasionally to Ginny or to the Twins.

We finally found a compartment with one other occupant, whom I recognized immediately.

“Harry!” I hissed, “It’s Mr. Lupin, Mum and Dad’s friend!”

Harry’s eyes widened as he looked upon the disheveled and sleeping man.

“What d’you reckon he’s here for?” Neville asked.

“Well, as his case says Professor R. J. Lupin, I imagine he’s our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher,” Hermione reasoned, “C’mon, there’s still room in the compartment for us.

Barely. Harry was squished against the window, Hermione against the compartment door, and I was smooshed in between them. Neville was awkwardly also smashed up agains the compartment door, trying to put as much space in between Lupin’s feet and him as possible.

“Well,” Harry whispered, “This is clearly a solution.”

We all looked at each other and tried our hardest to not giggle too loudly.

“I have something to tell you two,” Harry suddenly murmured, “Not _you_ , Maggie, you already know, I mean you, Hermione, and you, Neville,” he clarified and began talking about how Black was after him, and how Mum didn’t want Harry to go looking for him.

“Sirius Black escaped to come after _you_?” Hermione gasped in terror, “Oh, Harry… you’ll have to be really, really careful. Don’t go _looking_ for trouble, Harry –“

“I don’t go looking for trouble,” Harry shook his head in bemusement, “Trouble usually finds _me_.”

“Harry’s smart, he won’t go looking for a man who wants to murder him,” Neville interjected.

But both Neville and Hermione look rather shaken up at the news, more so than I think Harry had been expecting, more so than I had been. Which, upon futher reflection, I realized was rather stupid of me – I hadn’t really realized the full extent of what _a murderer on the loose, looking for Harry_ meant. But I couldn’t panic now; Harry thought I was OK. So I didn’t show my newfound shock to the others.

“No one knows how he got out of Azkaban,” Neville continued, looking very scared still, “It’s just never been done before – and he was a top-security prisoner, Gran says.”

“But, they’ll catch him, won’t they?” Hermione begged earnestly, “I mean, they’ve got all the muggles looking out for him, too, I saw it on the news before we left for France…”

“It can’t take very long, if they’ve really got everyone looking out for him, unless he can change his appearance or something like that,” Neville sighed, “But there isn’t any safer place for you than Hogwarts, Harry, well at least in theory.”

“I wouldn’t say the last two years really support the theory,” I shook my head sadly.

“At the same time, this is a threat the professors are rather aware of, I’m sure they’ll be on the lookout,” Neville responded firmly, “This isn’t like Voldemort’s returned to Hogwarts on the back of a head or inside of a diary or something.”

“It isn’t even You-Know-Who, just his lead follower,” Hermione nodded, “Which… is still _bad_ , but at least it’s a… change, I suppose.”

“And the professors will definitely be watching you all the time at school,” Neville agreed.

“And in Hogsmeade we can make a nice little bodyguard formation for you,” Hermione smiled.

“Are you two excited about it as I am? I’ve heard so much about it from Gran and from others. Of course, you’ve already been once, though we have no idea how, Maggie. But it should still be great, I can’t wait to go to Honeydukes, or Zonko’s, or the Three Broomsticks –“ Neville began gushing excitedly.

“Do you know much about it? I heard it’s the only entirely non-Muggle settlement in Britain!” Hermione gasped.

“I suppose it is,” Neville nodded, “Though I don’t know many people who live there.”

“I think it would just be _fascinating_ to!” Hermione whispered, realizing that Professor Lupin was still asleep, “It’s a very interesting place, isn’t it? In _Sites of Historical Sorcery_ it says the inn was the headquarters for the 1612 goblin rebellion, and the Shrieking Shack’s supposed to be the most severely haunted building in Britain…”

“Yeah, I don’t fancy visiting there, I mean, I’ve gotten enough excitement from the adventures I don’t choose, but there are so many shops to visit it should be fine – there’s an entire exotic plants greenhouse at the end of the street, I heard,” Neville nodded.

Hermione turned to us, “Won’t it be nice to get out of school for a bit and explore Hogsmeade?”

“S’ppose,” I sighed.

“I expect it will, but you’ll have to tell us when you’ve found out,” Harry replied in a heavy voice.

“Why?” Hermione asked in confusion.

“We can’t go, the Ministry asked mum to not let Harry go and she didn’t feel it would be fair if I could go and he couldn’t,” I responded calmly.

“ _You’re not allowed to come_?” Neville gasped.

“The Ministry doesn’t think it’s safe for me in Hogsmeade with Black and all,” Harry grumbled.

“But – _we’d_ be there – and I mean, we could protect Harry –“ Neville protested.

“Oh please, Neville, be reasonable,” Hermione snapped, “Black’s already murdered a whole bunch of people in the middle of a crowded street. Do you really think he’s going to worry about attacking Harry just because _we’re_ there?”

“She has a point,” I sighed.

“It was really hard to argue with Aunt Melinda when she explained this. She had a point about us staying safe,” Harry agreed.

“Well this is sad,” Hermione frowned, “I was really looking forward to going to Hogsmeade with you two.”

“Yeah, I wanted to explore with you, Maggie,” Neville sighed.

“And Hermione,” I offered. Neville opened his mouth, his face oddly flushed, when Lupin stirred. We all watched him anxiously as he rolled over and let out a loud snore.

The trolley came by, but we still didn’t wake up Lupin, not wanting to disturb what looked like a very relaxing sleep. We couldn’t do much in the compartment, given that we didn’t want to wake Lupin, but we were all shocked awake from our own naps by the train coming to a jolted stop. The rain was slamming on the train outside, pounding in the blackness. But we weren’t anywhere near where the train was to make its stop at Hogwarts; in fact, we still had a little ways to go. As the train stopped, all the lights suddenly went out and the train was plunged into darkness.

“Wh-what’s going on?” Neville stammered across from us.

“Ouch, Neville, that was my foot!” Hermione hissed angrily in pain.

“D’you think we’ve broken down?” Harry asked in confusion, shifting anxiously in his seat next to me.

“I’ve never heard of the Hogwarts Express doing that, though,” I whispered.

In the darkness, I could _just_ make out the outline of the compartment door opening, squeaking as it did so. Harry reached over me to wipe out the fog on the glass.

“There’s something moving out there… there are people coming aboard…” Harry hissed, shivering violently in rapid succession.

“Guys, guys, d’you know what’s happening?” Ginny whispered anxiously in the darkness.

“Hey Ginny,” I answered, “And no, no idea – how’d you even find us?”

“I remember you grumbling about all the compartments being full and I remembered this one had a teacher –“

“There isn’t much place for you to sit down –“ I hissed.

“Ginny, that’s my _lap_ ,” Neville grunted.

“Oh! Sorry!”

“Maybe I can scoot over here – you should’ve stayed with your friends –“

“I should ask the driver what’s going on – Ginny you can take my spot while I do,” Hermione offered.

“Good thing Ron hadn’t decided to join me, he had considered it…”

“I would have had to sic Crookshanks on him…”

“Quiet!” the hoarse and somewhat familiar voice of Professor Lupin suddenly interjected. He had finally woken up. Lupin had stood up and a soft crackling noise filled the air, accompanying the handful of flames Lupin seemed to be holding.

“Stay where you are,” he ordered quietly, getting to his feet very slowly and making his way towards the door.

But the door had slid open before Lupin could actually reach it. Standing in the doorway, partially illuminated, was a large, black, cloaked figure that reached the ceiling with its height. I couldn’t see its face under its hood, and a hand was protruding from the cloak, glistening, gray, slimy and scabbed, as though it were in the process of decaying. The hand withdrew beneath the cloak and the thing drew a slow, rattling breath, sending a sudden chill over me. I couldn’t breathe anymore, and I felt dazed and confused. All the joy within me was suddenly, gone. I felt like I was sitting next to Harry in the Chamber again, him dying of Basilisk venom, his eyes rolling into the back of his head with the poison as Riddle laughed cruelly in the background –

And suddenly Harry was on the floor, his eyes rolling back up into his head in reality as the rest of us all watched in astonishment. He began twitching, writhing on the ground.

“Harry!” I shouted in horror, overcoming my own feelings of hopelessness as I knelt down by him in anxiety. Hermione was already there, supporting Harry’s head in her lap, wiping the newfound sweat from his forehead.

Lupin had pulled out his wand and shouted at the creature, “None of us are hiding Black under our cloaks. Go!” When the cloaked thing didn’t leave, he raised his wand again and a giant, silvery shape appeared, similar to that of what looked like a grey wolf; the wolf charged the cloaked thing and drove it away out of the compartment. I was vaguely reminded of something – my mum had cast something like that once, it had flown through the air but acted as though it were swimming, the shape of a killer whale.

Lupin turned back to us, looking down at Harry in concern. Neville and Ginny were sitting down still, Ginny shaking and crying heavily, Neville not crying but shivering in his seat, his knees brought up to his chest in a sitting fetal position.

“Harry, Harry!” Hermione shouted, tears streaming down her face as she tried to wake him up, him still lying in her lap as I just kind of knelt there hopelessly. I couldn’t shake that horrific feeling that had settled in my chest since I had remembered that awful moment in the Chamber. I knew I had repressed it, but this brutal reminder was simply unnecessary.

Hermione finally had started slapping Harry across the cheek, but she didn’t seem to have the heart to do it strongly enough to wake him up.

“Oh, let me,” I grunted, slapping him harder than I had actually meant to, and Harry’s eyes were fluttering open slowly as the lights turned on and the train lurched to start moving again. He looked up at Hermione, who was now bending over him to look down directly at his face.

“Harry! Harry! Are you alright?” she begged anxiously.

Harry stirred for a moment, having trouble sitting up, blinking in the light as he mumbled in confusion. Neville was still holding his knees but had stopped shaking, and Ginny had stopped crying but was still shaking. Professor Lupin was still looking down at him with concern.

Harry finally sat up, looking very ill, pushing his glasses back on through the sweat on his face. I helped him back onto the seat, lifting him with Hermione from the floor.

“Are you alright, Harry?” Hermione murmured anxiously.

“That was really terrifying,” I furthered, shuddering.

“Yeah, I’m alright,” Harry responded weakly, “What happened? Where’s that – that thing? Who screamed?”

“No one screamed, I mean, I don’t _think_ anyone screamed,” Neville murmured softly, looking nervous.

“But I heard screaming –“ Harry protested. Suddenly, a snap echoed in the compartment. Lupin had a large chocolate bar in his hands and had broken in up into pieces, handing one to each of us, the largest of which to Harry.

“Here,” he ordered calmly, “Eat it, it’ll help.”

We each took the bar but none of us could seem to force it into our mouths.

“What was that thing?” Harry asked of Lupin, looking up at him.

“A dementor,” Lupin answered, “One of the dementors of Azkaban.” Lupin crumpled up the empty chocolate wrapper and nodded at us again, ordering a second time, “Eat, it will help. I need to speak to the driver, excuse me…”

He left the compartment and went down the corridor. We all turned to Harry in worry.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Harry?” Hermione whispered anxiously.

“I don’t get it… what happened?” Harry asked weakly, wiping sweat off his face.

“Well, the dementor, stood there and looked around, I mean it seemed like it did, and you – you… you were having a fit or something, I dunno, you went rigid and fell out of your seat and started twitching like mad…” I whispered.

“And Professor Lupin stepped over you, and walked to the dementor and ordered it to leave, but it didn’t, so it shot the sort of silvery thing out of its wand and the dementor turned around and glided away…” Hermione whispered.

“It was… horrible,” I murmured, “Did you feel how cold it got when it came it? I don’t know why, but I relived my worst memory – felt it all over again, it was horrible.”

“Me too,” Ginny mumbled weakly, “It was like being there, again, knowing what was going to happen but being unable to do anything to change it –“

Neville was nodding anxiously in agreement, looking ill still. I had a hunch that Ginny’s worst memory was the day in the Chamber, but I had no idea what Neville’s was, that it would make him react so badly. The chamber should have made him react like I had.

“But… did any of you… fall out of your seats?” Harry asked meekly.

We all shook our heads sadly, Hermione reaching over and squeezing Harry’s wrist. Harry looked down at his lap in complete confusion as Lupin reentered the compartment.

“I haven’t poisoned the chocolate, you know,” he reminded in a slightly cheerful voice, looking pleased as we all bit into it and I felt a warmth run through to my toes, “We’ll be at Hogwarts in ten minutes. Are you all right, Harry?”

“Fine,” Harry murmured, looking embarrassed.

He nodded, “Good to see you again, Maggie.”

I smiled weakly and nodded in agreement.

“And who are your friends, since I assume they’ll be my pupils as well?” Lupin furthered, clearly trying to make cheerful conversation.

“Hermione Granger, sir,” Hermione piped up.

“Neville Longbottom,” Neville chimed in.

“Ginny Weasley – I’m not in their year, I’m a second year,” Ginny whispered.

Lupin nodded in understanding, and the rest of the ride was spent in relative silence.

We finally reached the castle and entered the carriages, each of which was pulled by an invisible horse or something that couldn’t be seen. Harry, Hermione, Neville and I got into a carriage as Ginny rejoined her second year friends.

“Are you _sure_ you’re alright, Harry?” Hermione murmured anxiously.

“Yes, yes, I’m fine,” Harry sighed. Hermione was still holding his wrist.

We entered the castle and walked through the entrance hall, trying to keep Harry out of the public eye so no one would notice how sickly he looked already. Just as we were about to enter the Great Hall, a voice called out, “Potter! Granger! Johnson! Longbottom! I need to see you all!”

We all turned around, eyes wide, to see Professor McGonagall. She waved us on with her and we followed her through the corridors as she reassured, “There’s no need to look frightened, none of you have done anything wrong.”

We were ushered into her office and all took seats together.

“To begin,” McGonagall paused, “Potter, Johnson, Longbottom, I wanted to make sure you were alright.”

“Huh?” we all asked.

“I mean to say, the end of last term was rather rushed – there was very little time to address the issue of what you went through and how it affected you. While your parents and guardians all assured me that during the summer they had done their best to put the issue from your minds – bringing you abroad, funding a week in Diagon Alley together – now that you’re back at Hogwarts Professor Dumbledore mentioned there might be some, well, _reminders_ of trauma and such things. So, whether you like it or not, I’ve signed you all up for counseling sessions with the professor of your choosing, though Dumbledore mentioned that Harry, you would probably chose Professor Lupin, Neville, you would probably chose Professor Sprout, and Maggie, for reasons I cannot fathom, you would probably chose Professor Snape,” McGonagall explained.

We all looked at each other and nodded calmly.

“Good. That’s all I need you for, Longbottom, Johnson. Granger and Potter will meet you in the Great Hall,” she dismissed. Neville and I got up and left the room calmly together.

“Really? Counseling?” I scowled, “I didn’t get counseling after the incident with the giant chess set and that I actually almost died during.”

“I expect getting attacked by giant spiders, having to escape on a wild, dangerous dragon, and fighting the most deadly snake of all time seems a bit more serious to them,” Neville suggested, a slight smile on his face.

“Oh _don’t_ spread the dragon thing around, I’ll get a reputation,” I groaned as we reached the Great Hall a second time.

“Maggie Johnson: Dragon Rider!” Neville joked, and I elbowed him in the ribs as we sat across from Ginny and near the twins, leaving space for our missing friends.

“What happened?” Ginny asked in an anxious voice as we explained the meeting.

“Oh, they’ve had me in counseling since the end of last term,” Ginny waved her hand off in the air as if swatting a fly, “Granted, what I went through was somewhat worse, but I’ve been talking to Professor Dumbledore at least once a week, even if it’s through owl post.”

“Huh,” I frowned, “You never mentioned it.”

Ginny looked back at me cheekily, “You never asked.”

“Touché,” I responded as the Hat began singing to the first years. Once again, I paid no attention to it; more anxious to see why Harry and Hermione had been held back again.

They returned on their own time and sat next to us nonchalantly when the sorting had finally ended.

“What was all that about?” I asked in a hushed whisper.

“McGonagall wanted to make sure I’d recovered on the train from the Dementor thing, and wanted to talk to Hermione about her courses,” Harry responded quickly as Dumbledore stood up in front of the student body.

“Welcome!” he greeted cheerfully amongst the floating candles, “Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! I have a few things to say to you all, and as one of them is very serious, I think it best to get it out of the way before you become befuddled by our excellent feast. As you will all be aware after their search of the Hogwarts Express, our school is presently playing host to some of the dementors of Azkaban, who are here on Ministry of Magic business. They are stationed at every entrance to the grounds, and while they are with us, I must make it plain that nobody is to leave school without permission. Dementors are not to be fooled by tricks or disguises – or even Invisibility Cloaks. It is not in the nature of a dementor to understand pleading or excuses. I therefore warn each and every one of you to give them no reason to harm you. I look to the prefects, and our new Head Boy and Girl, to make sure that no student runs afoul of the dementors.’

Percy puffed out his chest and I smirked at Fred and George, who stuck out their tongues in mock disgust along with me.

“On a happier note,” Dumbledore continued, “I’m pleased to welcome two new teachers to our ranks this year. First, Professor Lupin, who has kindly consented to fill the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.”

There was scattered applause, except for from us who had been in his compartment when the dementor had come – we cheered quite loudly indeed. I looked over at the Slytherin table to see Draco was sneering at Harry’s turned back, and I frowned. Malfoy caught my eye and smirked, pretending to faint.

 _How did he find out_? I thought in fury as I turned my attention angrily back to Dumbledore.

“As to our second new appointment,” Dumbledore continued, “Well, I am sorry to tell you that Professor Kettleburn, our Care of Magical Creatures teacher, retired at the end of last year in order to enjoy time with his remaining limbs. However, I am delighted to say that his place will be filled by none other than Rubeus Hagrid, who has agreed to take on this teaching job in addition to his other gamekeeping duties.”

The applause that erupted from the Gryffindor table was deafening now, as most of us cheered at the top of our lungs. Fred, George and I immediately began chanting, “ _GO, GO, GO HAGRID! GO, GO, GO HAGRID!_ ” The Hufflepuffs were also very excited and the Ravenclaws were happy about the appointment; only the Slytherins looked rather irritated about the affair. Hagrid appeared to be fighting back tears of joy.

“Well, I think that’s everything of importance,” Dumbledore announced as Hermione, Harry and Neville stopped clapping, Ginny stopped whistling and the twins and I stopped chanting, “Let the feast begin!”

To say that I stuffed myself would be an understatement. Though, I was moderately distracted – every time Harry appeared to be turning around, Draco would immediately notice and start pretending to faint, so I would have to force Harry’s attention back on me and Hermione across from him. Finally, the feast ended and we were dismissed; the giant group of us all immediately rushed up to the head table to greet Hagrid.

“Oh congratulations Hagird!” Hermione squealed happily.

“Did you enjoy our little chant?” Fred asked eagerly.

“It was unoriginal on our part but we felt it was still worth it,” George continued.

“I’m so happy for you!” I beamed, Harry and Ginny just grinning at Hagrid with unbridled joy.

“All down ter you – well, to Harry, and Maggie, and Neville, and Hermione o’ course,” Hagrid smiled at the Weasleys, “Though I’m sure you all would’ve done the same. Can’ believe it… great man, Dumbledore… came down straight to me after Professor Kettleburn said he’d had enough… It’s what I’ve always wanted, an’ now that my name’s been cleared…”

He buried his face in his napkin and we all scurried away back to the dormitories, entering when the password was finally announced. Hermione turned to me and motioned for me to leave with her back to the Common Room out of earshot of the other three Gryffindor girls.

“Maggie, I have to tell you something,” Hermione hissed anxiously, red in the face and looking so embarrassed I was fairly confused, “I just – I can’t hold it in any longer.”

“Oh?” I responded in confusion, “What is it, Hermione?”

She mumbled something under her breath and I raised my eyebrows.

“C’mon, spit it out,” I ordered.

She looked up into my eyes and took a deep breath, “I… I have a crush on Harry.”

I felt my eyes widen in amazement and shock and I took a step back.

“Wait, like, _crush_ crush? Like, romantic feelings? Like, gushy feelings?” I hissed in surprise.

“Yeah,” Hermione was blushing even more now.

“Well…” I was still at a loss for words, “Erm… wow. I… dunno what to say now… but when we have Ancient Runes and there’s no one around from the gang to overhear us, I’ll… be able to say something… maybe?”

Hermione nodded, “That’s why I told you now – I wanted you to be able to process it.”

“Yeah, processing’s what I’m going to need,” I shook my head with the shock.

Unfortunately, I wasn’t going to have much processing time. Our first lesson the first day was Arithmancy, then Transfiguration, and after that, Care of Magical Creatures. But the second day we had Ancient Runes first thing, and I realized I’d have to have wrapped my brain around this by then. And in the meantime I would still have to interact relatively normally with Hermione.

While Harry and Ron went off to Divination together on the opposite end of the school, Neville, Hermione and I went off to Arithmancy.

“Wait, Hermione,” Neville was frowning as we joined the small group of other people in the subject, “Don’t you _also_ have Divination right now?”

“Ah, yes, my schedule’s a bit cramped,” Hermione responded rather evasively. I tore her timetable out of her hands and gawked at it.

“Hermione, you’re supposed to be at Arithmancy, Divination _and_ Muggle Studies right now!” I gasped, “That’s… impossible!”

“Not impossible, just highly unlikely,” Hermione snapped, taking the timetable back from me.

“You’d have to be in _three places at once_!” I insisted.

“Look, my schedule is full, I’ve worked it all out with Professor McGonagall, alright?” Hermione sounded truly angry now so I dropped the subject as we entered the Arithmancy classroom.

The room was filled with numbers on all sides, written in elegant scrawls and clearly in defined patterns. The only other students in the class were Ravenclaws – Michael Corner, Anthony Goldstein, Terry Boot, Mia Eckles and Mandy Brocklehurst. They sort of sat on one side of the tiny room and we did on the other. Upon seeing his only fellows were Ravenclaws, Neville immediately looked rather nervous.

“You’ll be fine,” I hissed out the corner of my mouth, hoping to god this would prove true, as it had been me who had encouraged him to do this in the first place.

The Professor then walked in, a young woman with long brown hair that went down to her feet and bright blue eyes, and fairly pale, pinkish skin. She stood amongst the many intricate calculations on the board wearing robes of navy blue and looked around at us calmly.

“Hello class,” she paused, “This is a rather larger group than I am used to. Bravo. Hopefully we won’t have dropped to two of you by your fifth year, like in this year’s fifth year class.”

Neville shifted nervously in his seat.

“At any rate, I am Professor Vector. I am the _only_ person at this school, save Dumbledore, whom you could probably come to for help in the subject of Arithmancy, so to get on my good side is to ensure good marks,” Professor Vector continued, “I will not be patient with people who do not know how to ask for help. This is a difficult subject for most everyone; unless you swallow your pride,” she looked over at the Ravenclaws in particular, “And admit that you need assistance in the subject, you will not do well. Understood?”

Neville looked considerably happier. Professors hardly ever said in such a point-blank way that you _needed_ to ask for help in a class. He would appreciate that, I was sure.

“Alright, well today we’re doing something very simple – analyzing what our names say about our personality. I believe a practical first lesson really gets the students interested in the subject from the get-go. There really isn’t much instruction needed, unless your parents or the muggle primary schools you went to neglected to teach you basic arithmetic, in which case… some private tutoring might be needed as well as questions as to _why_ you decided to take an entirely mathematics based course. After we analyze our names, I shall go over the syllabus. Feel free to discuss your results with your neighbors,” Professor Vector then wrote _Page 10_ on the blackboard and nodded for us to open our books to it.

It was very simple indeed. We matched each of the letters in our name to a number between one and nine. We then added up all the numbers, and if that number was greater than nine, then we added up the digits in the new number and continued until we got a number less than nine. This new number would describe our personality. Of course, there were variations, but the page assigned only talked about the basic process.

“I’m a six,” I hissed to Hermione, “What about you?”

“I’m a seven,” Hermione beamed back at me.

“No surprises there,” Neville rolled his eyes.

“Oh? And what about you?” I responded cheekily.

“I’m a nine,” Neville responded meekly.

“Nice!” I laughed, “Course you are, too.”

“Wait, how are you a nine? Neville Longbottom, that comes out to five, doesn’t it?” Hermione asked in confusion.

“My middle name is Archibald. _Don’t you dare laugh Maggie_!” Neville hissed but I was already gone, giggling behind my hand.

“Alright!” Professor Vector called out, reigning back in the class, “Here are the descriptions on the board. I’m sure we have many different numbers in this class.”

I read on the board, though I had already read it in the book, “ _Six represents harmony, friendship, and family life. Sixes are loyal, reliable, and loving. They adapt easily. They do well in teaching and the arts, but are often unsuccessful in business. They are sometimes prone to gossip and complacency.”_

I didn’t know I was prone to gossip, but now that I actually thought about it I did talk about Draco Malfoy an _awful_ lot.

Seven’s description was, of course, predictable for Hermione: “ _Perceptive, understanding, and bright, sevens enjoy hard work and challenges. They are often serious, scholarly, and interested in all things mysterious. Originality and imagination are more important than money and material possessions. Sevens can also be pessimistic, sarcastic, and insecure._ “

Nine also seemed to, in a strange way, fit Neville: “ _Nines dedicate themselves to service, often as teachers, scientists, and humanitarians. Strongly determined, they work tirelessly and are an inspiration to others. However, they can also be arrogant and conceited when things don't go their way.”_

“Now, let’s go over the syllabus,” Professor Vector continued, “We will start out the course with personal numbers, the meaning of our names and our families, birthdays and birth months and use that to transition into the meaning of different days and the numerology behind moments in history…”

We finished the class and left together, Neville and I chatting amiably about our homework – repeat the process for heart numbers and social numbers, which were different than our character numbers. When we turned around to discuss this with Hermione, however, she was gone.

“What… where did she…” Neville frowned.

“Maybe she had to double back for something?” I suggested, but I also looked puzzled.

Neville shrugged and we headed to Transfiguration together, sitting in a double person seat in front of Harry, who had his usual spot open for Hermione. Ron and Siobhan were behind him as per usual, and Ron was looking moderately concerned for Harry.

“How’d Divination go?” I asked Harry cheerfully. The look on Harry’s face told me not well in the slightest.

I turned back to face Professor McGonagall at the front of the room, but then decided the better of it and turned around to see Hermione and Harry sitting together.

“Wait – what –where’d you –“ I stammered in confusion.

“Please, Maggie, do _try_ to string two words together,” Hermione snapped. She seemed on edge, but when we had finished Arithmancy she was positively beaming.

“What’s… wrong?” I asked, frowning.

But the class had started and Professor McGonagall was going into detail about animagi, talking about the repercussions of their transformations. Neville and I were the only two people who clapped when she turned into a tabby cat with spectacle markings around the eyes and back into our professor.

“Really, what _has_ got into you all today?” Professor McGonagall asked in annoyance, “Not that it matters, but that’s the first time my transformation’s got only a slight applause from the class.”

I shrugged, “Your guess is as good as mine, Professor.” Neville chuckled next to me.

Hermione raised her hand, unlike me, and stated, “Please, Professor, we’ve just had our first Divination class, and we were reading the tea leaves, and –“

 _Wait, she wasn’t_ in _divination!_ I thought in amazement. I turned to look at her with a frown as Professor McGonagall sighed, “Ah, of course. There is no need to say any more, Miss Granger. Tell me, which of you will be dying this year?”

I turned around sharply and looked at Professor McGonagall in confusion.

“Me,” Harry finally said behind me. I turned around sharply again and raised my eyebrows in amazement.

“I see,” Professor McGonagall responded, and I spun around in my chair once more, causing Neville to burst into laughter, “Then you should know, Potter, that Sibyll Trelawney has predicted the death of one student a year since she arrived at this school. None of them has died yet. Seeing death omens is her favorite way of greeting a new class. If it were not for the fact that I never speak ill of my colleagues – and no, Johnson, I do not count Gilderoy Lockhart as my colleague … Divination is the most imprecise branch of magic. I shall not conceal from you that I Have very little patience with it. True Seers are very rare, and Professor Trelawney… Well, you look in excellent health to me, Potter, so you will excuse me if I don’t let you off homework today. I assure you that if you die, you need not hand it in.”

Hermione, Neville and I burst into laughter, and I could see that Harry had been cheered up a bit. Unfortunately, none of the rest of the class appeared to be reassured.

We spent the rest of the class learning about Animagi, and I felt myself rather intrigued. I couldn’t believe it, but I found myself thinking _I should go to the library and learn more about this…_

“Hermione,” I hissed as we left the class. She turned and looked at me with raised eyebrows.

“I’m turning into _you_!” I groaned. She looked at me in more confusion but decided to not push the subject.

Ron was talking to Harry in a hushed voice and Hermione doubled back to argue with him about something – I kept hearing the word _Grim_. I shook my head and continued on, following Neville down to the Great Hall for lunch. It was my birthday and the afternoon post was an exciting prospect for me.

“Granger, you don’t know what you’re talking about, Divination is a real thing –“

“Really, because you seemed to think that it had been a sheep in Harry’s cup, Weasley, not a _Grim_ –“

“Professor Trelawney said you didn’t have the right aura! You just don’t like being bad at something, Granger!”

We sat down at the table and Neville and I watched the exchange with wide eyes.

“If being good at Divination means I have to pretend to see death omens in a lump of tea leaves, I’m not sure I’ll be studying it much longer! That lesson was absolute rubbish compared with Arithmancy!” Hermione snapped, pulling up her books from the table as soon as she had put them down and stalking away.

“She hasn’t been to Arithmancy yet though… has she?” Harry asked me, frowning.

“She was there,” I paused, “I’m as confused as you are.”

Ron had gone to go talk to Seamus and Dean again, clearly unwilling to talk to me.

“What’s a Grim?” I asked Neville under my breath.

“Just a death omen – I think it’s supposed to be a big black dog or something. I dunno, Gran never has had patience with that stuff. To be honest, she was extremely relieved I decided to not do Divination,” Neville responded.

I nodded, deciding that I didn’t have much patience with that stuff either.

“Happy Birthday, at any rate, Maggie,” Harry interjected. I looked up at him and we both laughed for a fairly long time at the way he had delivered that statement. He, Hermione and Neville all gave me gifts; just small ones as we had had a bigger birthday celebration back in London.

“How are you doing, Harry?” I asked when Neville had gone back to Gryffindor Tower to get some books, “I mean, with all the Black stuff and everything, and the dementors from yesterday –“

“Fine,” Harry paused, “Though the fact I heard screaming is still a little disconcerting… can you tell me something?”

“Yeah, sure, anything,” I nodded.

“Why did Hermione pull me into her lap when I fell on the ground?” Harry asked, frowning now.

I felt my eyes widen in shock, “Oh… I dunno, the floor was rather hard wasn’t it? I expect she didn’t want you to be hurt.”

Harry was still frowning, “But… I dunno, it just seemed… odd.”

“I’m sorry, I dunno what was going through Hermione’s head at that moment,” I shrugged, knowing full well that I kind of did at any rate.

We headed outside for Care of Magical Creatures, all of us chatting amiably. I had my robes off and was just in my white shirt, my tie loose around my neck as I skipped down the grassy hill next to Hermione, who was laughing at me. Ron was as far away from Hermione as he could possibly be, which suited her just fine.

Unfortunately, my joy at reaching the class ended when I saw that the Slytherins were in these lessons with us. Malfoy was talking amiably with Crabbe and Goyle and I let out an audible groan.

Hagrid was waiting for us at the door of his hut. He stood there with Fang and Harry and I both grinned at each other in excitement.

“C’mon, now, get a move on!” Hagrid called, “Got a real treat for yeh today! Great lesson comin’ up! Everyone here?” Right, follow me!”

Hagrid strolled along the edge of the trees as we followed him along them, reaching what seemed like a paddock but there was nothing inside.

“Everyone gather ‘round the fence here! That’s it – make sure yeh can see – now, firs’ thing yeh’ll want ter do is open yer books –“

“How?” Draco Malfoy sneered.

“Eh?” Hagrid asked.

“How do we open our books?” Malfoy repeated, taking out _The Monster Book of Monsters_ , bound shut with rope. We all pulled them out, all of them forced shut in some way.

“Hasn’ – hasn’ anyone bin able ter open their books?” Hagrid asked, looking saddened by this news.

We all shook our heads sadly. It seemed like every Slytherin and every Gryffindor was taking the class, now that I looked around properly.

“Yeh’ve got ter _stroke_ ‘em,” Hagrid explained, “Look –“

He took Hermione’s copy of the book and untied the hair ribbon, immediately running a giant finger down its spine and the book fell open and quiet in his hand.

“Oh how silly we’ve all been!” Malfoy sneered, “We should have _stroked_ them! Why didn’t we guess!”

“I – I thought they were funny,” Hagrid murmured to Hermione.

“Oh, tremendously funny!” Malfoy continued, “Really witty, giving us books that try and rip our hands off!”

“Shut up, Malfoy,” Harry snapped. Hagrid was looking depressed.

“Righ’ then,” Hagird continued, “So – so yeh’ve got yer books an’ – an’ now yeh need the Magical Creatures. Yeah. So I’ll go an’ get ‘em. Hang on…” He went out to the forest and out of sight.

“God, this place is going to the dogs,” Malfoy shouted, “That oaf teaching classes, my father’ll have a fit when I tell him.”

“Shut up, Malfoy,” Harry repeated. I pulled out my wand and aimed it at him. Malfoy, however, just smirked.

“Careful, Potter, there’s a dementor behind you!”

Harry just gave him a look of confusion as Lavender Brown behind us squealed in delight. I felt panicked; I had managed to help Harry avoid any ridicule about his faint. We whirled around to see a dozen weird creatures trotting towards us. They had the bodies, hind legs, and tails of horses, but the front legs, wings, and heads of giant eagles, with cruel grey beaks and brilliant orange eyes. The talons on their front legs were half a foot long and deadly looking. They all had thick collars around their necks, attached to long chains.

Hagrid came jogging up behind the creatures and urged them forward.

“Hippogriffs!” Hagrid announced happily, “Beau’iful, aren’ they?”

I could definitely see what Hagrid meant.

“So,” Hagrid announced, “if yeh wan’ ter come a bit nearer –“

Harry, Hermione and I approached the fence, though the rest of the class didn’t seem to have the courage, not even Neville.

“Now, firs’ thing yeh gotta know abou’ hippogriffs is, they’re proud,” Hagrid announced, “Easily offended, hippogriffs are. Don’t never insult one, ‘cause it might be the last thing yeh do.”

The Slytherins were clearly plotting behind us and not listening to Hagrid.

“Yeh always wait fer the hippogriff ter make the firs’ move,” Hagrid continued, “It’s polite, see? Yeh walk toward him, and yeh bow, an’ yeh wait. If he bows back, yeh’re allowed ter touch him. If he doesn’ bow, then get away from him sharpish, ‘cause those talons hurt. Right, who wants ter go first?”

Most of the class backed farther away, however, I looked up determinedly at Hagrid and announced, “I’ll do it!”

“Bravo, Maggie, bravo!” Hagrid cheered, “Right then, let’s see how yeh get on with Buckbeak.”

He untied a chain and pulled the gray hippogriff away from its fellows and slipped off its leather collar.

“Easy now, Maggie. Yeh’ve got eye contact, now try not ter blink… Hippogriffs don’ trust yeh if yeh blink too much…”

I approached the hippogriff, forcing my eyes open wide as I snuck towards the creature nervously, meeting its orange eyes with my green as I snuck along.

“That’s it,” Hagrid encouraged, “Tha’s it, Maggie… now, bow…”

I gave a short bow, trying to not show how nervous I was, and looked up. The hippogriff bent its scaly front knees down to the ground and sank into a bow.

“Well done Maggie! Right – yeh can touch him! Pat his beak, go on!”

I moved slowly and cautiously to the hippogriff and reached out toward it, patting the beak gently as the hippogriff closed its eyes lazily.

The class broke into applause and Harry whistled to my amusement, except for Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, and Parkinson, who all looked supremely disappointed.

“Righ’ then, Maggie. I reckon he might let yeh ride him!”

I looked at Hagrid in shock; remembering how much I had disliked flying on a broom, and the dragon. Though, with the dragon, I wasn’t exactly in a comfortable position, so that might not have been the dragon’s fault.

“Yeh climb up there, jus’ behind the wing joint,” Hagrid explained, “An’ mind yeh don’ pull any of his feathers out, he won’ like that…”

I managed to hoist myself onto Buckbeak’s back as the hippogriff stood up. I gently held onto the feathers behind his neck, praying to god I wouldn’t pull out any of the feathers.

“Go on, then!” Hagrid ordered, slapping Buckbeak’s hindquarters.

Twelve-foot wings opened up on either side of me and I wrapped my arms more steadily around the hippogriff’s neck, shouting in amazement as it ran forward and soared upward. It was nothing like a broom; it was brilliant. The creature moved underneath me in an unmistakably organic way; it flapped its wings with such control that I didn’t feel like I was going to fall off at all and I even let go of it with my arms, trusting my legs to know what to do. The creature had a mastery of the skies and knew what it wanted to do with them; nothing was left up to me and that was fine, it was beautiful. I moved with the creature on its back as it flapped its wings, becoming part of it, an extension of the animal.

Buckbeak flew around the paddock and then landed back on the ground, the feet landing with a thud and trotting back over to Hagrid.

“Good work, Maggie!” Hagrid roared as everyone except the four loathsome Slytherins cheered, “Okay, who else wants a go?”

The rest of the class immediately went up, feeling emboldened. Harry immediately bowed before Buckbeak and the hippogriff took to him as well, letting him pat him on the beak.

“You, sister, are brilliant,” Harry beamed. I beamed back, scratching Buckbeak behind his head.

We then went to go talk to Hermione and Neville, who were with a new, brown hippogriff. As we all bowed to it, however, a commotion could be heard and Malfoy sneering, “This is very easy, I knew it must have been, if Johnson could do it… I bet you’re not dangerous at all are you, you great ugly brute?” A loud screech could be heard and a yelp and we turned around to see Malfoy on the ground, a long cut in his arm, as Buckbeak was forced back into his collar by Hagrid and Malfoy moaned on the ground.

Hagrid lifted Malfoy and Hermione helped him out of the paddock as Hagrid ran back up to the castle, the rest of us following calmly as the Slytherins shouted in protest.

“Oh no,” Hermione moaned as we reached the castle, “You don’t think they’ll fire Hagrid, do you?”

“Not a chance,” Harry snarled, “I won’t let them.”

“It was Malfoy’s fault, after all, he didn’t show the hippogriff respect!” I snapped.

“Do you think Malfoy will be alright, though?” Hermione asked nervously as we reached the Gryffindor Common Room.

“Course he will, Madam Pomfrey has mended worse in seconds,” Neville reassured.

“That was a really bad thing to happen in Hagrid’s first class…” I groaned, “I hate Malfoy. I just _hate him!_ ”

Hagrid wasn’t at the Great Hall at dinner and we were worried he’d been fired, so we went down to Hagrid’s Hut later that evening, despite Hermione’s worries about Harry and Sirius Black.

“’Spect it’s a record,” Hagrid told us thickly as he drank himself silly in his hut, “Don’ reckon they’ve ever had a teacher who lasted on’y a day before.”

“You haven’t been fired, Hagrid?” Hermione gasped.

“Not yet,” Hagrid moaned, “But ‘s only a matter o’ time, I’n’t it, after Malfoy…”

“He’s fine though, isn’t he?” I asked calmly.

“Madam Pomfrey fixed him best she could, but he’s sayin’ it’s still agony… covered in bandages… moanin’…” Hagrid sighed.

“He’s lying,” Harry responded firmly, “Mandam Pomfrey can mend anything, she regrew my bones last year. Trust Malfoy to milk it for all it’s worth.”

“School gov’nors have bin told, o’course. They reckon I started too big. Shoulda left hippogriffs for later… done flobberworms or summat… Jus’ thought it’d make a good firs’ lesson… ‘S all my fault…”

“It’s all _Malfoy’s_ fault, Hagrid!” Hermione protested.

“We’re witnesses,” Harry assured, “You said hippogriffs attack if you insult them. It’s Malfoy’s problem that he wasn’t listening. We’ll tell Dumbledore what really happened.”

“We’re on your side, Hagrid, of course we are,” Neville promised.

Hagrid began sobbing and pulled us all into a hug that could have broken our bones.

“It was good of yeh ter come an’ see me, I really –“ Hagrid croaked, but then his eyes landed on Harry and realization finally came to him.

“WHAT D’YEH THINK YOU’RE DOIN’, EH?” Hagrid shouted, “YEH’RE NOT TO GO WANDERIN’ AROUDN AFTER DARK, HARRY! AN’ YOU TWO! LETTIN’ HIM!”

Hagrid pulled us back up to the castle, shouting, “I’m takin’ yeh all back up ter school, an’ don’ let me catch yeh walkin’ down ter see me after dark again. I’m not worth that!”

The next day, we had Ancient Runes first thing, and I realized that I hadn’t even thought about Hermione’s crush _once_ on my birthday as we went up to the Ancient Runes classroom.

“So… Maggie… did you think about what… I talked to you about?” Hermione asked in a very quiet voice as we sat down in the classroom that was littered with anglo-saxon runes everywhere, written all over the blackboards.

“Yeah, sort of,” I paused, “I didn’t have much time to, to be frank, Hermione. But I did.”

“A-And?” Hermione murmured.

I looked at her calmly, “Well, I’m not surprised. That would be a lie. And… to be honest, if I have to think about Harry ending up with anyone at all, then I wouldn’t have it be anyone except for you. No one else is good enough for him.”

Hermione’s face contorted into a wide smile.

“You know there’s a but coming there,” I sighed. Hermione’s smile fell and she nodded.

“Harry’s not _ready_ yet, Hermione. I dunno if he likes anyone at all, but he hasn’t mentioned it, and to be honest, I don’t want the first person he dates to be you. I want you two to last if you’re going to happen at all,” I paused, “I don’t want you two to break up and no longer be friends because you were young an immature.”

“Okay…” Hermione looked at me, motioning for me to continue.

“Well, Harry right now is thirteen, an emotional prat, and pretty much controlled solely by hormones,” I paused, “Whomever he dates right now is going to be pretty much snog-n-go. It won’t be a meaningful relationship and I think that’s what _you_ deserve with him. You need to be patient, you need to let him go out there and learn what he really wants from a relationship… if he wants a relationship at all, ya know? Or if he wants relationships with dudes, I mean my mum and I had a huge talk and this stuff is complicated…”

Hermione nodded in understanding, though she still looked crestfallen.

“I’m just saying, not now but soon, alright?” I sighed, “Don’t look so depressed, if he turns out to be heterosexual and heteroromantic and then dates someone and dumps them over something immature I’ll immediatelys tart talking you up.”

Hermione smiled weakly as Professor Babbling, the teacher for Ancient Runes, stood up in front of the class. We spent most of the class learning the Anglo Saxon alphabet and practicing writing in them; the magical applications of the runes would be learned later in the term, once we had become proficient in the language.

That day at lunch I received a note from Professor Snape.

_Dear Miss Johnson,_

_Today we will be having our first counseling session after dinner. I also am taking the opportunity in this note to ask that you never sass me in front of anyone – even if it’s one person such as Longbottom – ever, again._

_Sincerely,_

_Professor Snape_.

I laughed out loud at this causing me to receive funny looks from Harry, who had received a similar note, but I just shrugged and shook my head whilst chuckling.

So I headed down to the dungeons to go to my Counseling Session of pointlessness after dinner, my bag still extraordinarily heavy after Ancient Runes this morning. I went to Snape’s office and slammed the door behind me as I sat at his desk.

“So. You went and attacked a basilisk last year, and nearly watched Mr. Potter die…” Snape began coldly.

“Oh stop it, Professor, we both know I don’t need counseling,” I snapped. _My little depressive episode went away, and I will never talk about it again._

Snape sighed, “You might, we never know –“

“Be reasonable here.”

“Look, these have been ordered by the Minister of Magic, alright? He seems to think you three need them same as Miss Weasley,” Snape sneered.

“Right, because I was plagued by memories of giant snakes the whole summer –“

“ _Use your head Miss Johnson!_ ” Snape roared. I looked at him in shock, my eyes wide.

“The Minister _knows_ you don’t need counseling – that’s the whole point! You three took down a monster without any seeming repercussions. The Minister _wants to keep an eye on you_ , wants to make sure you don’t cause any more trouble! He _doesn’t trust you –_ not you, not Potter, not Longbottom, not Granger.”

“What?” I asked in quiet amazement.

“Two years in a row, you and your friends have solved problems at this school that should have been taken care of by professors. Not only is the Minister concerned about the quality and competency of the staff, he is concerned that you will take your problem-solving ways and turn them loose on problems that he does not want you meddling in – problems such as the capture of Sirius Black,” Snape said Black’s name with such loathing I was simply astonished.

“Concerned about the competency of the staff…” I whispered.

Snape smiled cruelly, “It’s usually the job of the teacher to protect the students, not the other way around.”

“How does the staff feel about this?” I asked cheekily.

Snape shook his head sadly, “Ashamed, for the most part, Miss Johnson. Professor McGonagall indicated that she didn’t really know how to look herself in the eye in a mirror for most of the holidays.”

“Well then,” I paused, “I’m not up to anything, and I don’t need help with ‘dealing with my feelings.’ Can I go now?”

Snape sneered, “I’ll be checking up on you regularly, you know.”

I stood up and left the office, calling over my shoulder, “Oh, I know.”

This year would be oodles of fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think! Or if you like it!


	19. Chapter Eighteen: September - October 31, 1993, Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The secret side of me
> 
> I never let you see
> 
> I keep it caged
> 
> But I can't control it
> 
> So stay away from me 
> 
> The beast is ugly
> 
> I feel the rage and I just can't hold it 
> 
> It's scratching on the walls
> 
> In the closet, in the halls
> 
> It comes awake 
> 
> And I can't control it
> 
> Hiding under the bed 
> 
> In my body, in my head
> 
> Why won't somebody come and save me from this?
> 
> Make it end!" 
> 
> ~ Skillet, "Monster"

Chapter Eighteen: September – October 31, 1993, Hogwarts

Draco Malfoy did not return to our classes until late on Thursday morning, when Slytherins and Gryffindors were slogging through our Double Potions class. Malfoy swaggered into the dungeon, his right arm covered in bandages and in a sling, and he acted like he had survived a great war.

“How is it, Draco?” Pansy Parkinson simpered, “Does it hurt terribly, Draco?” The way she said his voice made me want to go and vomit in a corner.

“Yeah,” Malfoy sighed, putting on what looked like a brave face. I felt my fists clench and I narrowed my eyes in anger. He winked at Crabbe and Goyle when Pansy had turned away and I gritted my teeth in fury.

“Settle down, settle down,” Snape ordered idly. I glared at him too.

We began making our Shrinking Solutions, while Malfoy called on Snape to torture us by making us help him. Since Snape needed to look like he hated me same as the other Gryffindors, he put me to work cutting up Malfoy’s ingredients along with Harry. When we were working alongside him, Malfoy turned to me, smirking.

“Seen your pal Hagrid today?” Malfoy asked quietly.

“None of your business,” I hissed.

“I’m afraid he won’t be a teacher much longer. Father’s not very happy about my injury –“ Malfoy simpered.

“I’ll give you a real injury, I swear I will,” I snapped.

“He’s complained to the school governors, _and_ to the Ministry of Magic. Father’s got a lot of influence, you know. And a lasting injury like this…” Draco fake-sighed, “Who knows if my arm’ll ever be the same again? With that great oaf teaching classes, why, no one is safe.”

I held up my knife that I was using to cut up his roots and glared at him, “Do you _honestly_ think you’re safe right now?”

The class had gone quiet. I don’t know what had come over me. I felt like there was fire bubbling up in my stomach to my chest and my vision had turned red. Harry’s face had gone pale and Hermione was hissing, “ _Maggie, calm down!_ ”

Draco smirked back at me, “Like you could try anything with that and not get expelled, Johnson. Ah well, at least you and Hagrid can be outcasts together in the woods, taking care of your precious monsters and wallowing in your own filth.”

I set down the knife, shaking from head to toe, practically seeing red, and Harry looked like he thought I had regained myself – relieved. But I had simply retained enough reason to know that a knife would probably get me expelled.

My fists wouldn’t.

I swung my arm backward and punched Malfoy across the face. He fell to the floor of the dungeon with a yelp and knocked over his whole cauldron, causing his hurt arm to begin to shrivel horribly. Pansy Parkinson screamed as Malfoy stood up and wielded his strong arm, punching me back in the eye and sending me whirling backward as he kicked me in the knee. I turned back and literally bit down on his fist as it came back to me, tasting blood in my mouth. Malfoy roared in horror and stepped back wildly, looking at me as if I were an alien or something.

“What the –“ he snapped.

“THAT’S ENOUGH,” Snape roared. I turned around, unable to see out of my right eye, my knee feeling dislocated.

“BOTH OF YOU –“ Snape caught himself, realizing he had to punish me more in front of such a large audience, “FIFTY POINTS FROM GRYFFINDOR AND TWENTY FIVE POINTS FROM SLYTHERIN. DETENTIONS, FOR A MONTH, FOR YOU BOTH. I do not _believe_ that _either_ of you would fight so _blatantly_ and _violently_ in my class. Malfoy, go straight to Madam Pomfrey and take a swelling solution for your arm. Johnson, go straight to Professor McGonagall’s office and explain what happened. Malfoy I expect to see you in my office after you are fixed. _NOW!_ ” Snape roared.

I felt ashamed of myself and limped out of the classroom after grabbing my books, trusting Harry or Hermione or Neville to pick up my supplies.

 _Why did I_ bite _him?_ I thought in horror.

I entered Professor McGonagall’s office and sat down immediately, exhausted after limping all the way up here.

“I am astounded,” she stated in amazement after I finished my story, “Simply astounded.”

“I really am sorry,” I murmured softly.

“I’m sure you are, but I’m not going to take away Snape’s punishment. It’s _necessary_ ,” McGonagall paused, looking at me in amazement, “You _bit_ him?”

“I don’t know why!” I threw my arms in the air.

“I have no idea what to say with you! It doesn’t _matter_ what I say, you’ll just go and get into another fight with Malfoy the next day! It’s a futile mission! You are simply _incorrigible_ Johnson!” McGonagall shouted.

“I know!”

“There’s no point in punishing you because it never does anything, but if we don’t you’ll apparently get worse!” McGonagall threw her hands above her head.

“I’m… I always… I…”

“But _biting_? It’s like I’m dealing with a three year old!” McGonagall shouted.

“I know!” I responded in equal volume, “I _know!_ I know it’s no excuse but I just got so _mad_ , Professor, I _saw red_ , my entire vision was colored, it felt like I could – I don’t know, spit fire or something – breathe it and cover Malfoy with it – I don’t understand!”

McGonagall looked at me sharply. There was a very long and silent pause.

“Have you tried to find a _way_ to contain your anger? You’ve just been put into so many of these situations – especially with Malfoy –“

“Of course not,” I snapped.

She stared at me and came around the front of her desk, closer in proximity to me, “I saw the books you checked out from the library earlier this week. I think I know, and I think you know, a way.”

I looked down and frowned at the ground, “They were just to write the essay…”

“You and I both know you have your own personal library enough to do that,” McGonagall snapped.

I looked up, “So I was curious, OK? You know yourself that my grandmother back home is the head of Transfiguration at her own school and –“

“And is a mountain lion, I’m aware,” McGonagall paused, “How far were you going to go in the process before you asked for help?”

“Not… very far…” I flushed.

“You stole Re’em blood from the student store cupboard!” McGonagall hissed, “Professor Snape _saw_ you do it!”

“Alright!” I roared in response, “I wanted to try and start brewing the potion!”

McGonagall actually _sat_ on her desk and rubbed her temple with a sigh.

“What if I turn into an angry animal, Professor?” I suggested, “I read that when an angry person becomes an animagi and their form is angrier than they are, it only helps them –“

“I’ve read the literature, Johnson, I _am_ an animagi,” McGongall snapped.

“But come on, it’s _reasonable-_ “

“Have you started brewing the potion?” McGonagall demanded.

I sighed and nodded, “I’m brewing it in Myrtle’s bathroom.”

McGonagall let out a long sigh, “You know I can’t let you continue this.”

I hung my head and nodded.

“… Unsupervised.”

I lifted my head up rapidly and felt my eyes widen.

“You are a very gifted transfiguration student, Miss Johnson. And you have an anger problem. And I never have students who wish to try and attempt to become an animagus,” McGonagall paused, “So I want to help you with it. I don’t want you to hurt yourself and I want to make sure you do it properly.”

“So you’re… you’re going to… help me become an animagus?” I whispered.

“On one condition, and one condition only,” McGonagall replied sternly.

“Alright…”

“You must register,” McGonagall ordered, “You _must_. I will not have you using your anonymity to cause trouble. This is, really, to get you _out_ of trouble by helping you channel your anger, as well as many other things.”

“Alright,” I nodded, but remembered Snape’s words about the Minister Fudge, and how he had taken in Hagrid last year, and the prejudice my mum faced, and my race, and how they hadn’t caught Black yet and hadn’t done a damn thing first year or second year.

“When the Ministry is no longer corrupt,” I finished. McGonagall glared angrily and opened her mouth to retort but I held up my hand.

“Professor Snape told me the real reason behind our ‘counseling sessions,’ Professor. And I have not seen a shred of evidence from any source that the Ministry can be trusted. So I add a second statement – I will register when the Ministry is no longer corrupt, or when I’ve left school, whichever comes first. But not when both are untrue statements. I will not be bullied and persecuted and threatened by Ministry insiders for being an animagus when I’m in school and can’t do a damn thing – sorry, excuse my language – to stop them. Is that reasonable, ma’am?”

McGonagall studied me for a long time. We sat across from each other, in silence, for a long time, before she nodded her head.

“Even Professor Dumbledore would agree with you on this front, I’m afraid to say. So yes,” McGonagall nodded.

I jumped in the air and raised my fist in joy.

“ _You must not tell anyone!_ ” McGonagall hissed. I turned around and looked at her in shock.

“I wasn’t going to –“

“No one! None of your friends, none of your family, not Potter, and none of the other teachers. I will tell Professor Dumbledore but that is _it_. If we are to keep this from the Ministry, even for a little while, it must be _absolutely secret. Do you understand?_ ”

“Yes,” I nodded meekly.

“Alright. You may go. I believe you have Defense Against the Dark Arts soon, at any rate,” McGonagall sighed, “Come to my office tomorrow after your lessons for your first meeting. I will take your potion from Myrtle’s bathroom and make sure it isn’t going to make the castle explode… the animagus potion has been known to do this.”

I nodded and left the room calmly, but when the door closed I did some major skipping, jumping into the air and tapping my heels together in midair.

I went up to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom and sat down in my usual seat when the rest of the Gryffindors reached the room, Harry sitting next to me.

“What happened? Did McGonagall punish you more?” he asked as he took out his materials.

“No,” I paused, “Just scolded me.”

Harry nodded, “That was completely mental, what you did.”

“I know.”

“Well, try to contain yourself,” Harry shook his head, “ _Biting Malfoy_ , honestly…”

Lupin entered the classroom then, smiling at all of us vaguely and placing his briefcase on the teacher’s desk. He was still very shabby but was looking a little healthier.

“Good afternoon. Would you please put all your books back in your bags – today’s will be a practical lesion. You will need only your wands.”

We had never had a practical Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson before and as such we all exchanged looks of curiosity.

“Right then,” Lupin continued when we were all read, “Follow me, please.”

We all got to our feet and followed Lupin out of the classroom, winding through the corridors when we ran into Peeves, floating upside down in midair and stuffing the nearest keyhole with chewing gum.

“Loony, loony Lupin!” he sang when he saw the professor, “Loony, loony Lupin, loony, loony Lupin –“

“I’d take that gum out of the keyhole if I were you, peeves,” Lupin replied pleasantly, “Mr. Filch won’t be able to get in to his brooms.”

Peeves blew a loud wet raspberry in Lupin’s face.

Lupin sighed and pulled out his wand, “This is a useful little spell,” he announced to the class, “Please watch closely.”

“ _Waddiwassi!_ ” he shouted, pointing his wand at Peeves. The wad of chewing gum shot out of the keyhole like a bullet and went straight down Peeves’s left nstril; he whirled upright and zoomed away, cursing.

“Cool, sir!” Dean praised in amazement.

“Thank you, Dean,” Lupin responded, “Shall we proceed?”

We reached the staffroom and Lupin ushered us inside, where only Professor Snape was sitting.

Snape got to his feet and walked to the door, “Just a warning, Professor Lupin. Watch out for Miss Johnson, as she is liable to bite you at the slightest provocation. And also watch out for Mr. Longbottom, as entrusting him with anything difficult leads to failure unless Miss Granger is hissing instructions in his ear.”

Neville, Hermione and I went identical shades of scarlet.

“I was hoping that Neville would assist me with the first stage of the operation,” Lupin responded with raised eyebrows, “And I am sure he will perform admirably. And secondly, I don’t think I shall have to worry about Maggie’s biting problem.”

“No, I’m sure _you_ won’t,” and Snape was gone.

“Now, then,” Lupin continued, beckoning the class to the end of the room where the old wardrobe that held the teacher’s robes sat, where I had once hidden with Harry and Neville. The wardrobe gave a sudden shudder, wobbling and hanging off the wall.

“Nothing to worry about. There’s a boggart in there,” Lupin explained.

Everyone immediately looked at the wardrobe in terror, though I had no idea what a Boggart was.

“Boggarts like dark, enclosed spaces. Wardrobes, the gap beneath beds, the cupboards under sinks - I’ve even met one that had lodged itself in a grandfather clock. _This_ one moved in yesterday afternoon, and I asked the headmaster if the staff would leave it to give my third years some practice. It’s unknown why it moved in here, but usually boggarts enjoy lodging themselves in places near or directly in where immense fear occurred. Can anyone explain why?” Lupin asked.

 _Well, I know why it chose here, then._ Harry and Neville looked at me out the corner of their eyes and we all smirked a little weakly at each other. Yes, I would say that hearing one of my friends was about to be killed by a giant snake monster was _very_ frightening in that wardrobe.

Hermione, meanwhile, had raised her hand to answer Lupin’s question.

“Well, a boggart is a shape-shifter – it takes the shape of whatever it thinks will frighten us most, so it seeks out fear on purpose.”

“Couldn’t have put it better myself,” Lupin praised, causing Hermione’s cheeks to glow with pride, “So the boggart sitting in the darkness within has not yet assumed a form. He does not yet know what will frighten the person on the other side of the door. Nobody knows what a boggart looks like when he is alone, but when I let him out, he will immediately become whatever each of us most fears. This means that we have a huge advantage over the boggart before we begin. Have you spotted it, Harry?”

Harry shuffled in his spot and tried to ignore Hermione’s eagerness next to him as he reasoned, “Er – because there are so many of us, it won’t know what it should be?”

“Precisely,” Lupin nodded, making Hermione look a little disappointed as she lowered her hand, “It’s always best to have company when you’re dealing with a boggart. He becomes confused. Which should he become, a headless corpse or a flesh-eating slug? I once saw a boggart make that very mistake – tried to frighten two people at once and turned into half a slug. Not remotely frightening. The charm that repels a boggart is simple, yet it requires force of mind. You see, the thing that really finishes a boggart is _laughter_. What you need to do is force it to assume a shape that you find amusing. We will practice the charm without wands first. After me, please… _riddikulus!_ ”

“Riddikulus!” we all said together.

“Good,” Lupin smiled, “Very good. But that was the easy part, I’m afraid. You see, the word alone is not enough. And this is where you come in, Neville.”

The wardrobe shook again, though Neville was shaking more. I wanted to reach out and comfort him but didn’t dare as he stepped forward to Professor Lupin.

“Right, Neville. First things first: what would you say is the thing that frightens you most in the world?”

Neville mumbled something as we all stared at him expectantly.

“Didn’t catch that, Neville, sorry,” Professor Lupin responded cheerfully.

Neville looked back at me with wide eyes, took a deep breath, and whispered in a tone barely more than a whisper, “Professor Snape.”

Everyone laughed, including me, including Neville. Professor Lupin seemed to be thinking.

“Professor Snape… hmm… Neville, I believe you live with your grandmother?” Lupin asked.

“Er, yes,” Neville paused, “But I don’t want the boggart to, you know, turn into her either.”

“No, no, you misunderstood me,” Lupin paused, “I wonder, could you tell us what sort of clothes your grandmother usually wears?”

Neville frowned, looking puzzled at the nature of the question, and answered, “Well, always the same hat, a tall one with a stuffed vulture on top. And a long dress. .. green, normally… and sometimes a fox-fur scarf.”

“And a handbag?” Lupin furthered.

“A big red one,” Neville nodded.

“Right then,” Lupin paused, “Can you picture those clothes very clearly, Neville? Can you see them in your mind’s eye?”

“Yes,” Neville answered in confusion. He looked over his shoulder again and at me before turning back to Lupin.

“When the boggart bursts out of this wardrobe, Neville, and sees you, it will assume the form of Professor Snape. And you will raise your wand – thus – and cry ‘ _Riddikulus!_ ’ – and concentrate hard on your grandmother’s clothes. If all goes well, Professor Boggart Snape will be forced into that vulture-topped hat, and that green dress, with that big red handbag.”

Everyone began laughing loudly.

“If Neville is successful, the boggart is likely to shift his attention to each of us in turn. I would like all of you to take a moment now to think of the thing that scares you the most, and imagine how you might force it to look comical…”

I frowned. What would scare me the most? What _actually_ scared me – not Lord Voldemort at the end of a corridor, not giant spiders, not giant snakes… what was it that _actually_ scared me…

I looked around and saw Harry and Hermione standing next to me, both frowning in their own concentration. Harry met my eyes and winked, making me laugh.

I remembered him writing on the floor of that compartment. I had thought (rather crazily) he was going to die. I remembered him on the floor of the Chamber, actually dying, how I had seized up inside with sadness and couldn’t control it, it felt like I was dying with him…

Well, there it was. I knew immediately the boggart would turn into Harry, dead, on the floor.

 _How… do I turn that into something funny?_ I thought in a panic. There was _no way_ to turn a dead Harry into something funny – unless I turned him into a dead… dead clown? No, that was sad. Dead anything was sad. Should I make him alive and tap-dancing again? That seemed like such a dramatic change, would it even work?

“Everyone ready?” Lupin called.

 _Um, no_.

“Neville, we’re going to back away. Let you have a clear field, all right? I’ll call the next person forward… Everyone back, now, so Neville can get a clear shot…”

Neville watched us back away from him in terror, his eyes wide. He at least had a clear shot as to how to make Professor Snape funny. I had no clue. He mouthed ‘help me’ to me across the room and I grimaced in response.

“On the count of three, Neville,” Professor Lupin ordered as Neville pushed up his robes and held out his wand, his face suddenly narrowing in determination, “One – Two – three – _now!_ ”

A jet of sparks shot from the end of Lupin’s wand and hit the doorknob. The wardrobe burst open. Professor Snape stepped out, his eyes flashing at Neville angrily. Neville backed away, his wand up, mouthing in terror. I wanted to rush forward but, knowing what it would turn into, I let my cowardice nail my feet to the floor.

“ _R – r – Riddikulus!_ ” Neville squeaked.

There was a noise like a whip crack. Snape stumbled and was suddenly wearing a bright green lace-trimmed dress and a huge hat with a vulture on it, holding a huge crimson handbag.

Despite the worry in the back of my head, keeping in mind how Snape had screamed at me earlier, I couldn’t help but laugh at this so much that my sides hurt.

“Parvati! Forward!” Lupin called.

Parvati walked forward. Snape turned to her, there was another large crack, and where he stood was a blood-stained, bandaged mummy. It began walking towards Parvati, she raised her wand and cried, “ _Riddikulus!_ ”

The bandage unraveled at the mummy’s feet, it became entangled and fell face forward, the head rolling off.

“Seamus!”

 _Crack!_ The mummy turned into a woman with long black hair and a skeletal face – a banshee. An unearthly sound, a shriek, filled the room and Seamus shouted, “ _Riddikulus!_ ” The banshee made a rasping noise, clutching her throat, her voice was gone.

“Siobhan!”

 _Crack!_ The banshee turned into a rat, which chased its tail in a circle.

“Lavender!”

 _Crack!_ The banshee turned into a rattlesnake, which slithered and writhed before become suddenly one of those party favors that exploded into a long paper column when you opened the can.

“Excellent! Dean!” Lupin shouted.

 _Crack!_ The party favor became a severed hand, which flipped over and began to creep along the floor like a crab.

“ _Riddikulus!_ ”

The hand was trapped in a mousetrap with a snap.

“Excellent! Ron, you next!”

Ron stepped forward. _Crack!_ Everyone screamed as a giant spider, six feet tall, began advancing on Ron. I had Forest flashbacks as Ron raised his wand and shouted, “ _Riddikulus!_ ” The spider’s legs vanished; it rolled over and over.

“Wonderful! Maggie, you next!”

I was already shaking as I stepped forward to the roly-poly spider. I raised my wand, ready, as _Crack!_

Harry was sitting on the floor, lifeless, his face paler than the moon, a trickle of blood coming down from his head through his hair, his glasses cracked and askew, him spread – eagled everywhere. A scream was let out in the back of the room at the sight.

I tried to not cry as I gasped out, “ _R – R – Riddikulus!_ ”

But rather than turning into something funny, Harry became Hermione, turned over on her side, her mouth gaping open. There was even more shouting in the back as I finally sobbed and cried, “ _R – R – Riddikulus!_ ” Hermione became Neville, face down, blood pooling around his head. I fell down and began sobbing uncontrollably as I raised my wand and tried to do it again, but I couldn’t even get the words out now.

“Here, here,” Lupin interjected. His voice was extraordinarily kind as he stepped in front of me. The moment he did so, _Crack!_ Neville vanished and a silvery-white orb hung in the air in front of Lupin, who shouted “ _Riddikulus!_ ”

 _Crack!_ The moon turned into a balloon and zoomed in the air.

Lupin turned and saw Harry and Hermione ready to take their turns, but turned to Neville instead, “Forward, Neville, and finish him off!” _Crack!_ Snape was back. Neville walked forward, a determined look on his face, as he shouted, “ _Riddikulus!_ ” Snape was briefly in his lacy dress before Neville laughed “HA!” in his face and the boggart exploded into a thousand whisps of smoke and was gone.

“Excellent!” Proessor Lupin shouted, making no reference to my meltdown and how I hadn’t left the floor, “Excellent, Neville. Well done, everyone… let me see… five points to Gryffindor for every person who faced the boggart – ten for Neville because he did it twice… and five each to Hermione and Harry for answering my questions correctly at the start of class. Excellent lesson, everyone. Homework, please read the chapter on boggarts and summarize it for me, to be handed in on Monday. That will be all. Miss Johnson, if you will follow me back into my office.”

Everyone began murmuring and left the classroom as I followed behind Lupin, wiping off the tears from my eyes, purposely looking away from Harry, Hermione, and Neville. I knew that after Neville it wouldn’t stop – Ginny would have followed, George, Fred, my parents, Elena, it would just have kept going. I could never make anything funny out of it.

We entered Lupin’s office and I sat down across from him. He pulled out a mug from inside his desk and waved his wand – suddenly, hot chocolate was inside of it.

“Drink it,” he smiled kindly. I did so, feeling the warmth of the beverage fill me up in all corners.

“I… I’m sorry,” I murmured softly.

“Why are you sorry?” Lupin smiled even more kindly still, “That is a very mature fear to have, Miss Johnson.”

I looked up at him in shock.

“Your classmates all fear what they should fear – the little things that just creep them out in the worst way because they don’t fully understand that thing. Well, except Neville’s. That boy has been emotionally abused and I’ll be talking to Professor Snape about it. But you understand your fear perfectly; you don’t fear the unknown, you fear loss. And not the loss of your own life or the loss of money or property, but the loss of love. That is a very mature fear to have,” Lupin explained kindly.

I sniffled and finished the rest of the hot chocolate.

“I’ve been like that with Harry since I can remember,” I whispered, “Even in first year… there was this mirror, it showed us our deepest desire… I just saw all of us, grown up, laughing and talking and healthy and happy.”

“Of course you did,” Lupin reassured, “I remember your mother writing to me when you were little. You and Harry always went out exploring in those woods near your house. They aren’t _as_ magical as the Forbidden Forest, of course, but they were still filled with all sorts of dangers.”

“Yeah…” I didn’t see how that connected.

“You got through all that fear of the unknown stage when you were very, very young. Most children are sheltered from it, so by the time they’re your age they still fear it. But you went out there at the age of five – I remember this letter – dragging Harry with you, he was only four, and you two jumped into a lake and dove to the bottom before going back up. I mean, the only way you survived was because you were wizards, but still. You were still so young that you hadn’t been _taught_ to fear the unknown, so you just dove right into it and scoffed at fearing it later. Now you fear what you know you don’t want to happen, something that you are aware of and _know_ , but would do anything to stop,” Lupin smiled.

I nodded, remembering vaguely my daft idea to go diving into a lake.

“It’s not a crime to love, Maggie.”

I smiled weakly and nodded.

“Though, you realize, Professor Snape will be hearing about this for your… counseling… sessions,” Lupin was smirking a little now.

“Oh, _great_ ,” I groaned.

“You may go now, but if you ever need to talk to someone who has a little more kindness than Professor Snape…”

“Yeah, I’ll remember,” I laughed, leaving his office and going back to Gryffindor Tower. Inside, Harry, Hermione, and Neville were sitting at a table and doing their homework. I braced myself for the comfort I didn’t really feel like receiving as I sat down at my usual spot and pulled out my Ancient Runes books to memorize anglo-saxon words.

“Hey Maggie,” Hermione murmured.

“Hello,” I responded calmly, translating words onto flashcards.

“How are you feeling?” Harry asked.

“Fine,” I responded again, clearly trying to ignore their attempts at concern.

“Come on, guys, if she doesn’t want to talk about it she doesn’t have to,” Neville interjected. I looked up at last at him as Hermione and Harry sighed and turned back to their own work.

 _“Thank You,_ ” I mouthed at Neville. He smiled and nodded, reaching under the table to pat my knee a couple of times before turning back to his Arithmancy homework.

Even though my first lesson with him had gone terribly awry, I agreed with the rest of the school that Lupin was the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher we had ever had. The entire student body – with the exception of some Slytherins – loved his lessons and they quickly became their favorite. After boggarts, indeed, we learned about Red Caps, little goblin-like creatures that lurked where there had been bloodshed, then we learned about kappas, water dwellers that looked like scaly monkeys that strangled unwitting waders into ponds.

In the meantime, I had not only my usual classes, in which Ancient Runes and Arithmancy were particular time drainers, but my two ‘extracurriculars,’ as it were. McGonagall had me reading every evening another passage from an Animagus how-to book before she would let me continue on with the transformation potion. I had to finish all five books she had on the subject before I could actually get started. I was wishing she hadn’t found out, but I knew in the back of my head that I would have mucked it up without her help and gotten myself permanently transfigured into a wild crocodile or something.

Snape’s counseling, on the other hand, could never be classified as such. Immediately after the boggart incident, he gave me an essay.

“I want you to write your mourning process,” Snape ordered as I sat down in his office the day after the incident.

“What?” I asked in shock. I was more expecting a lecture on how I had bitten Malfoy. The rumors had grown around the school and the new crop of first years officially called me “The Biter.” But I ignored them for the most part.

“I want you to write out exactly what you will do, beginning with mourning Potter, to full recovery, if Potter were to die. It has no length requirement, but be thorough. That’s all,” Snape nodded, excusing me to leave.

So I wrote the essay, but he wasn’t happy with it.

“This has to be _universal_. You have clearly tailored your writing to a violent death of Potter. It has to apply in _all_ situations – for all we know, Potter could live to an old age and die of natural causes, but before you. It has to be _universal_. Do it again.”

So I wrote it again, and once again, he was unhappy with it.

“Now you’re writing for a happy death for Potter. You and I both know that the odds of him having one of these are very very small. _Use your head, Miss Johnson._ Universal!”

Again, I wrote the damn essay. We were approaching the end of October by this point.

“ _No. You’re doing it **wrong**. Again!_ ”

I hated writing this stupid essay, because it kept making me live through the reality that Harry would one day die, again and again and again.

While I wasted al my full time on these two endless activities, I found myself unable to spend time with the Twins like I used to, especially on top of my extra coursework. They didn’t even have the chance to _ask_ me to go on adventures, as I was hardly ever in the Common Room – it was hard to hide that I was reading Animagus books in the Common Room, so I found a dark corner of the library where no one would bother me.

As I walked through the corridor coming back from the library one evening, having written my essay for the millionth time, I saw George at the end of the hallway. He looked moderately uncomfortable and was talking to someone.

“Yeah, well, she’s been very busy I expect…” I heard George say.

“Oh yes, she takes all those mentally difficult classes, doesn’t she?” I heard the unmistakable voice of Siobhan from my year answer.

 _Siobhan? What is George doing with Siobhan? _I thought in horror.

“Yeah… She’s clever, Maggie is.”

_Why are they talking about me?_

“At least she isn’t suffocating you two all the time like she used to.”

“I wouldn’t… call it that.”

“You three would always hang about – but I remember, you were friends with that Lee Jordan kid. What happened to him, eh?”

“He’s still our mate – we just have different interests…”

“What _are_ your interests, George?”

The tone of Siobhan’s voice made me want to claw her eyes out. It was soft and alluring and clearly flirtatious. I felt anger bubble to my chest.

“Well, I mean, pranking’s the main one, really,” George responded. He sounded uncomfortable, but he was still _talking_ to her.

 _Oh no._ I quickly fled in the opposite direction of where I had to be, hit with a ton of bricks. Of _course_ George would _never_ like me, that was a silly and stupid idea. Why he would entertain Siobhan was another question, but it was clear he didn’t fancy _me_. Silly me.

 In the meantime, my friends in my year filled up their time with obviously different activities than me. Hermione, who was taking _all_ the electives, was constantly and consistently swamped with homework. Neville had both his continued work with Professor Sprout in the greenhouses and he didn’t understand Arithmancy as readily as Hermione and I; though he was doing well, he had to put in a _lot_ more work to do so. And Harry had his constant Quidditch Practices, as the team Captain, Oliver Wood, had this last season to win the Cup. And in the meantime, Hermione didn’t bring up once her crush on Harry, making me relieved – no other subject made me feel _quite_ so uncomfortable.

Close to the end of October, an announcement was put on the notice board. The first Hogsmeade weekend was coming up, on Halloween in fact.

“Excellent,” I sighed when I saw it. Harry nodded mournfully next to me.

Hermione looked at us in sadness, “Harry, I’m sure you’ll be able to go next time,” she murmured, “They’re bound to catch Black soon. He’s been sighted once already.”

“Black’s not going to try anything in Hogsmeade, that’s mental,” Neville reassured, “Maybe McGonagall will let you go if you ask, guys…”

“No,” I sighed, “We’ll wait a bit.”

Neville looked downtrodden at my defeatist attitude.

Ron was in the Common Room at this time, sitting near where we were, feeding his ugly old rat the tonic he had picked up in Diagon Alley. Hermione was also petting Crookshanks at the time, who was actually not too bad of a cat when he wasn’t on edge for some reason.

But Crookshanks had seen Ron and his rat and hissed in fury. Ron looked up in shock just as Crookshanks leapt across the Common Room and attacked him. He stumbled backward, shouting in protest, holding Scabbers close to him.

“GRANGER!” he roared as Hermione ran forward and collected the bright orange cat, “GET THAT BLOODY BEAST AWAY FROM ME AND MY PET!”

Hermione glared at him, “Weasley, it’s perfectly natural for a cat to chase a rat –“

“THAT CAT IS A MENACE! IT SHOULDN’T BE ALLOWED!” Ron roared. The entire Common Room was watching the proceedings now.

“Maybe you should keep your rat out of Crookshanks’ range,” Hermione suggested icily.

“He has a right to the Common Room as much as anyone! Train your bloody tiger!” Ron snapped, walking up to the boy’s dormitory. Hermione sat down back at her spot and said nothing the rest of the evening.

On Halloween, Harry and I felt thoroughly downtrodden as the rest of our classmates eagerly awaited their trip to Hogsmeade.

“It’s not that exciting,” George tried to reassure next to me. I had distanced myself from him since the conversation I had overheard between him and Siobhan, and needless to say, he was confused as such. Fred seemed unbelievably pleased, however, which confused me greatly.

“We’ll sneak you out sometime, alright?” Fred hissed in my ear when Harry was talking to Hermione, “Not today, that would be too obvious, but we’ll sneak you out.”

“Harry, too, or no deal,” I snapped back. Fred nodded and went back to his toast.

“I’d say we’d bring back Butterbeer, but I feel that is a can of worms not to be opened,” George laughed. I managed a weak smile in response.

“We’ll bring you loads of sweets back from Honeydukes,” Neville offered. Hermione nodded eagerly next to him.

“Thanks, guys,” Harry smiled in response.

Harry and I went over to the library to get some homework done – well, I was finally finishing book three of the five Animagus books, but I had hidden it underneath the cover of my Arithmancy book so Harry wouldn’t see what I was actually studying. Harry was working on his potions essay with a grimace as we sat there in the library together.

“Harry, Maggie,” a kind voice rang out. We looked up to see Professor Lupin standing above us. I quickly shut my book, as from that angle it would become painfully obvious that the diagrams were of people transforming into animals and not of complex number theory.

“Would you like to have tea with me in my office?” Lupin offered, “I understand how lonely this day must be for you two and I thought I’d come to help cheer you up a bit.”

We looked at each other and nodded in acceptance.

“Excellent,” Lupin smiled, “Come, come.”

As we went up to his office, Lupin explained, “I just received the grindylow for the next lesson – it’s a water demon.” We entered and he pointed to a large tank of water in which sat a sickly green creature with sharp little horns, looking at us eagerly as we sat down across from Lupin.

“We shouldn’t have much trouble with him, not after the kappas. The trick is to break his grip. You two notice the abnormally long fingers? Strong, but very brittle,” Lupin furthered. He then took the kettle from the small fire behind his desk and poured hot water into two cups, handing us tea bags kindly.

“Now, anything worrying you two?” Lupin asked as we all sat down and began sipping at our tea.

I shook my head, knowing my only real worry at the moment – that George was going to start dating _Siobhan_ , of all people – wasn’t exactly what Lupin was getting at.

“Yes,” Harry, however, answered. I looked at him in mild shock.

“You know the day we fought the boggart?” he asked. I groaned internally.

“Yes,” Lupin answered slowly.

“Why didn’t you let me fight it?” Harry continued. _Oh, good. He’s not bringing up my meltdown._

“I would have thought that was obvious, Harry,” Lupin answered in surprise.

Harry, looking shocked, responded, “Why?”

“Well,” Lupin was frowning now, “I assumed that if the boggart faced you, it would assume the shape of Lord Voldemort.”

Harry and I both looked at Lupin in shock. Beside ourselves, the only person we had heard say Lord Voldemort’s name without fear was Professor Dumbledore, our families, and Neville (which, to be honest, still weirded me out).

“Clearly, I was wrong,” Lupin was frowning at Harry. I frowned too; I would have assumed that answer as well, but since the look on Harry’s face clearly said that this was incorrect, I tried to think of what Harry _would_ fear the most –

“But I didn’t think it a good idea for Lord Voldemort to materialize in the staffroom. I imagined… well, after your class began panicking after Maggie’s boggart, well, I imagined it would only get worse,” Lupin finished.

“I didn’t think of Voldemort,” Harry answered honestly, taking a deep breath and continuing, “I – I – I remembered the dementors.”

“I see…” Lupin paused thoughtfully while I kicked myself for not figuring that out, “Well… I’m as impressed with you as I was with Maggie here. Both of you show a maturity in your fears beyond your young years.”

Harry and I frowned at Lupin.

“Well you see, the fact that you fear dementors suggests that what you fear most of all, Harry, is fear itself. That is very wise,” Lupin nodded.

Harry and I both drank more tea, unable to really say anything. Though I, too, was very impressed by Harry.

“So you’ve been thinking that I didn’t believe you capable of fighting the boggart?” Lupin asked.

_Like me._

“Well, yeah,” Harry answered, but his voice as a lot more cheerful.

“Professor…” I paused. He looked at me kindly.

“Yes, Maggie?”

“Will… will I _ever_ be able to face a boggart?” I asked calmly, “Even if… Even if somehow, I didn’t start sobbing all over the floor… I don’t think I could ever come up with something funny for that.”

Lupin opened his mouth to answer me when a loud knock issued on the door.

“Come in!” Lupin answered.

The door opened and Snape entered, carrying a goblet that was faintly smoking. He stopped at the sight of us, puzzled as to whether to narrow his eyes at Harry or remain the same to me.

“Ah, Severus,” Lupin smiled, “Thank you very much. Could you leave it here on the desk for me?”

Snape set down the smoking goblet, looking between the three of us.

“I was just showing Harry and Maggie my grindylow,” Lupin explained pleasantly, pointing at the tank.

“Fascinating,” Snape responded, “You should drink that directly, Lupin.”

“Yes, yes, I will.”

“I made an entire cauldronful,” Snape continued, “If you need more.”

“I should probably take some again tomorrow, thanks very much, Severus.”

“Not at all,” and Snape left the room. Lupin turned back to us, explaining, “Professor Snape has very kindly concocted a potion for me. I have never been much of a potion-brewer and this one is particularly complex. I’ve been feeling a bit off-color, you see, and this potion is the only thing that helps. Now, back to your question, Maggie,” Lupin paused, “As you know, Professor Snape _is_ trying to help you with that.”

“I still don’t see how I can turn it into something funny –“

“Once you know how to deal with it, Maggie, the humor will come to you. Besides, when you are ready, Snape will tell me that you’ve reached the proper point where _I_ will help you with that.”

I nodded calmly. Harry opened his mouth too, but closed it again.

“Something on your mind, now, Harry?” Lupin asked kindly, “I’m afraid I must go back to work soon…”

Harry frowned, thinking, and then responded, “No, professor, not now.”

“Alright, well I will see you two at the feast,” Lupin smiled as we left his office.

That afternoon, Neville and Hermione came up to us in the Common Room just as I finished the third Animagus book, closing it with a feeling of great triumph.

“Here we are,” Neville beamed, pulling out a huge bag and dumping it all over our homework, “We just bought a bag of everything.”

The table was now littered with brightly colored sweets from Honeydukes.

“Thanks,” Harry beamed, “What’s Hogsmeade like? Where did you go?”

It sounded like they had literally gone everywhere – Dervish and Banges, Zonko’s, and the Three Broomsticks, as well as the post office. They kept talking eagerly about all the places they had gone to, and as I had only really been to the Three Broomsticks, envy filled me from the inside at their joy.

“What did you do?” Hermione asked suddenly, looking embarrassed at their gushing, “Did you get any work done?”

“Some,” Harry and I answered together.

“Though we were in Lupin’s office for a while, we had tea,” Harry added on.

Hermione checked her watch, “Well, we’d better get down to the Great Hall, the feast’ll be starting soon.”

We all walked down together to the Great Hall and sat at the Gryffindor table. Fred and George were already there and George threw a package at me.

“A present for your sorry state of inability to go to Hogsmeade,” George explained. I opened it and found a Zonko’s prank on the inside – one miniature flying creature for every day of a month that you would enlarge with magic and it would follow your enemy around, constantly, and usually shrieking to boot.

“Excellent,” I beamed at George. He smiled back. Siobhan immediately entered and sat next to him, and I could hear her say to Fred, “Wasn’t that fun in Zonko’s today? I _did_ enjoy the slingshot prank, that was a good one…”

George immediately entered the conversation and talked to Siobhan on the subject. Hermione across from me grimaced in sympathy, and I realized that even if I hadn’t told her about it, Hermione was the queen of perception and was completely aware of my crush on George.

We all stuffed ourselves with the food of the feast, me enjoying excessively all the pumpkin flavored things. Harry was extremely entertained by the ghosts’ flying formation that served as entertainment. When we were all good and stuffed, all the Gryffindors got up and went up to the tower together, laughing and talking amiably. But the crowd seemed to stop outside the portrait hole.

“Why aren’t we going in?” I asked in confusion.

Harry peered above the heads of the crowd, as Percy Weasley began badgering his way through it.

“Let me through, please,” he called, “What’s the holdup here? You can’t _all_ have forgotten the password – excuse me, I’m Head Boy…”

And then silence fell over the crowd. Percy said, very sharply, “Somebody get Professor Dumbledore, Quickly.”

“What’s going on?” Ginny asked behind me. I shook my head in confusion.

“Oh, shooting tomorrow?” she asked me cheerfully. I grinned at her and nodded.

Professor Dumbledore arrived a moment later, sweeping to the portrait. Harry, Hermione and I moved closer to see what had happened as Neville and Ginny talked behind us.

“Oh, my –“ Hermione gasped, grabbing Harry’s arm. The Fat Lady had vanished from her portrait, which had been slashed viciously with strips of canvas littering the floor.

Dumbledore looked at the portrait in shock and turned to Professor McGonagall, Lupin, and Snape hurrying towards him.

“We need to find her,” Dumbledore ordered, “Professor McGonagall, please go to Mr. Filch at once and tell him to search every painting in the castle for the Fat Lady.”

“You’ll be lucky!” Peeves cackled above us. We all looked at him in confusion.

“What do you mean, Peeves?” Dumbledore asked calmly.

“Ashamed, Your Headship, sir,” Peeves answered in the most respectful tone he could manage, “Doesn’t want to be seen. She’s a horrible mess. Saw her running through the landscape on the fourth floor, sir, dodging between the trees. Crying something dreadful, poor thing.”

“Did she say who did it?” Dumbledore asked quietly.

“Oh yes, Professorhead,” Peeves nodded, “He got very angry when she wouldn’t let him in, you see… Nasty temper he’s got, Sirius Black.”

I turned to Harry with wide, panicked eyes as everyone around us panicked and some of the girls even started shrieking. I held onto his arm as did Hermione on his other side, both of us looking at him as though he was already dead.

“All Gryffindors, go back to the Great Hall, immediately. Professors, go gather your houses and bring them there as well,” Dumbledore ordered.

Harry looked rather shocked as we all went downstairs and entered, the other houses looking fairly confused.

“The teachers and I need to conduct a thorough search of the castle,” Dumbledore announced as McGonagall and Flitwick closed all the doors to the hall and pushed aside the tables with magic. “I’m afraid that, for your own safety, you will have to spend the night here. I want the prefects to stand guard over the entrances to the hall and I am leaving the head Boy and Girl in charge. Any disturbance should be reported to me immediately. Send word with one of the ghosts.”

He waved his wand and the floor was covered with hundreds of squashy purple sleeping bags.

“Sleep well,” Dumbledore announced as he left the hall.

“Everyone into their sleeping bags!” Percy shouted, “Come on, now, no more talking! Lights out in ten minutes!”

I climbed into a sleeping bag in between Harry and Neville. Harry had his back turned to me; he was facing Hermione. I could see that they were looking at each other and Hermione was holding Harry’s hand. I wanted to point out that she couldn’t be more obvious, but when I realized I would probably do the same thing, I didn’t say anything or even think it in seriousness. I got up to get a drink of water and saw that Harry wasn’t really saying anything or even looking at her, but looking down at the ground and trying to not convey how scared he actually was. Hermione looked concerned and something glistened in the corner of her eye, like a tear.

I crawled back into my sleeping bag and looked at Neville. He turned on his side to face me.

“How do you think he got in?” I asked calmly.

“We can discuss it in the morning, Maggie,” Neville murmured in response. I knew he knew how shaken up I actually was about this as he continued, “Get some sleep, alright?”

He reached out and, in a way that made me shiver a little with surprise, tucked the hair back behind my ear before rolling back over and closing his eyes. I did the same, seeing that Harry and Hermione had also, and tried to fall asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think!


	20. Chapter Nineteen: November 1 - December 18, 1993, Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Afraid to start, got your heart in a headlock,
> 
> I don't believe any of it. 
> 
> You say too late to start, with your heart in a headlock,
> 
> You know you're better than this. 
> 
> Been walking, you've been hiding,
> 
> And you look half dead half the time. 
> 
> Monitoring you, like machines do,
> 
> You've still got it, I'm just keeping an eye." 
> 
> ~ Imogen Heap, "Headlock"

Chapter Nineteen: November 1 – December 18, 1993, Hogwarts

All anyone could talk about afterwards was how Sirius Black had gotten into the castle. No one was able to find him afterwards, not anywhere.

“You can’t apparate into the castle – you know, disappear and reappear instantaneously –“ Hermione explained as we walked to our first class the Monday after Halloween, “There are enchantments that stop you. And he could have taken floo powder, and there’s no way he snuck in just by walking. Truth be told, I’m clueless.”

When we left the class, Hermione had disappeared as always, so I doubled back to talk to Harry. He looked just as confused as I did at Hermione’s absence.

“What was with the whole holding – hands – with – Hermione – thing?” I asked cheekily, digging for my friend a little bit, and also genuinely curious.

“I dunno,” Harry paused, shrugging, “She asked me if I was okay, and I didn’t respond, so she asked if I needed anything and… I dunno. You were busy and I’m so used to just holding your hand…”

“Understood,” I laughed. Neville was walking with us silently, deep in thought. He had grown taller again, and was now basically a tree compared to me. Harry was still only somewhat taller than me. I hated feeling short.

In the meantime, the Fat Lady’s canvas was taken off the wall and replaced with the portrait of Sir Cadogan, a neurotic little knight who was crazy enough to take the job on the back of his fat little gray pony. He was evidently the only portrait brave enough to do the guarding and spent most of his time challenging people to duels, and the rest thinking up ridiculous passwords that made Neville almost burst into tears, with his poor memory.

Harry, however, didn’t worry about this much. Teachers and Percy Weasley almost constantly followed him. Professor McGonagall had Madam Hooch supervising his Quidditch Matches due to the exposure of the occasion.

I sat out on the grounds one afternoon with Neville and Hermione, reading my fourth Animagus book with the cover of one of my Ancient Runes books slipped neatly over it. It was getting more and more complicated now and I had to take a lot of notes in the margins and on pieces of parchment. The weather was getting progressively worse; the wind ran through the trees and the grass with an icy chill that I rather enjoyed. Hermione, on the other hand, insisted on her jar of blue flames. The clouds were a brilliantly smoky gray, creating a thick blanket over the area, neither delivering precipitation nor floating away. Neville constantly muttered about missing the sun, and the stunted growth of his Raglid plant, which required nearly constant bright daylight.

I looked up to see the Quidditch team heading back from the pitch, all in their red and gold Quidditch robes, all shivering to some extent as they walked. Remembering George and his increased cavorting with _Siobhan_ , I didn’t jump up eagerly as I once would have.

George, Fred, and Harry, however, came up to talk to us on their own steam.

“Well, we’re playing Hufflepuff, not Slytherin, in Saturday’s match,” Harry began in irritation, “Malfoy is still faking his injury so Flint got them to switch it – but it’s obvious why they are…”

“Don’t like the weather, we reckon. Little prat,” Fred spat.

“And the Hufflepuff’s have got a new Captain and Seeker, Cedric Diggory; real pretty boy, he is,” Geroge scowled.

“Seriously; Angelina burst into giggles at the mention of his name,” Fred shook his head sadly.

“I know who you’re talking about,” Hermione was frowning, “He’s a little too blonde for my tastes… not to mention, he’s very overrated.”

 _Blonde. Ha. You’d never go for a blonde boy_ , I thought in amusement.

“What do you think, Maggie?” George asked.

_Why do you care?_

“He’s good looking,” I shrugged nonchalantly. I could see that Neville had set down his Potions books as I continued, “I’m not going to deny it.”

“But… you wouldn’t want to date Cedric Diggory, would you?” Neville asked, “I mean, he’s a Prefect and everything – not really… you…”

“I don’t actually _know_ him, I’ve just seen him around school. But I always keep my options open,” I replied airily for George’s benefit as I raised my book back to my face, trying to understand a complicated diagram.

“He’s terrible for you,” George responded firmly. I raised my eyebrows so he could see the act but didn’t actually look at him again.

“I think I can decide that for myself, thanks,” I replied. Harry’s expression during the exchange was priceless; his eyebrows were raised and he simply looked befuddled that I could conceive of dating anyone at all. Hermione was clearly trying not to laugh, her face stretched in a smile as she buried her head in the Arithmancy book. Fred was scowling in irritation, or at least that’s how I interpreted it. Neville looked downtrodden, which confused me, and George looked rightly appalled.

“But… _Diggory? Really?_ ”

“George,” I responded, putting my book back in my lap, “I am trying to study some complex stuff here, and these are nonsensical questions. Diggory doesn’t even know I _exist_ , I’m not dating material anyway, and we’d never work in the long run; but he _is_ attractive and I’m _always_ up for trying anything once. So if you please, I need to get back to this.”

George was frowning and responded, “Who said you aren’t dating material?”

“I dunno,” I snapped back, looking up in anger again, “Maybe you and Fred, last year, when I got that stupid Cupid Valentine from someone – I _still_ don’t know who – and insisted you’d never send it because why on _Earth_ would you _ever_ like _me_. Now can I _read, please_?”

“I didn’t… Fred –“

“Yeah, we said that, but we meant for us,” Fred suddenly interjected. He had one of the most determined faces I had ever seen on.

George looked back at Fred and was glaring now. I had never seen the two of them fight, _ever_. Now Harry was _completely_ baffled and Hermione was having more trouble giggling. Neville had buried his face in his book again, almost too deeply; his nose was shoved practically into the binding.

“Alright, I clearly can’t study here,” I sighed, packing my book and standing up, “See you guys later.” I reentered the castle and found my corner of the library, but I was so angry my quill broke through the parchment I was writing notes on. The ink bled all over the table and I looked around wildly for Madam Pince, praying to God that she wouldn’t think I was vandalizing on purpose.

I hastily cleaned the mess, got up and went back to the Gryffindor Tower, and I saw Siobhan walking through the corridor, for the millionth time, with George. The sight made me want to _scream._

“How was Quidditch Practice?”

“… Fine.”

“You seem tense, is everything alright?”

“… Yeah. Everything’s fine. Just… had a row, that’s all.”

“Oh? Was it bad?”

“I dunno. I rowed with two different people, you see.”

“Who?”

“Well… I reckon that… well, they’re two people I’m very close to.”

“Oh… At the same time?”

“For the most part. I rowed with one of them more so after the row with the first one… I know I’ve pissed the second one off a lot but I have no idea how, or why, or how much I’ve pissed off the first one.”

“Anything I can do to help? I’m sure you were in the right.”

“I don’t think I was, Siobhan.”

I felt my fists clench and I wanted to throw something, break something, claw at something with my fingernails. Hearing him say her bloody _Christian name_ was enough to make me _roar_.

“I’m sure you’re just feeling guilty –“

“Of _course_ I am, I did something _wrong_. Look, I’ll talk to you later, okay? I’ve got to talk to one of them.”

“But –“

“ _Bye_.”

I hid behind a suit of armor as George turned around and stomped right past me, Siobhan returning to the Gryffindor Common Room. I waited an appropriate amount of time before shoving over the Suit with at roar of fury, causing all the pieces to scatter all over the floor of the corridor and one even sliding down to the other end, and immediately running in the opposite direction away from it, trying to get as far away from the scene of the crime as possible.

That evening, I sat with Hermione in the library, working together on our Ancient Runes work.

“You know, you spend so much time studying on your own, I’m surprised you aren’t farther ahead on your work,” Hermione commented shrewdly.

“I’m trying to read the books thoroughly,” I lied, “I mean come on Hermione, you talk to me about time usage when you’re litearlly taking more classes than fit in your schedule?”

Hermione stuck her tongue out at me in annoyance as we continued to translate the runes.

“How are your anger issues doing, Maggie?” Hermione asked in concern after a few minutes of scratching. I shrugged wordlessly.

“Nothing has been bad enough to piss me off, lately,” I paused, “But they have been bad lately. I’ve been talking to McGonagall about it a little, but she can’t offer much in the realm of help. I don’t like it much, but I guess it’s who I am?”

Hermione sighed, “I know, it just seems like something that could cause problems. You could get into a terrible fight and get hurt, you could hurt yourself inadvertently, there are all these health risks I know about –“

“Thanks for your words of encouragement as always, Hermione,” I rolled my eyes in annoyance.

“I’m just telling you what could happen!” she responded defensively.

“You do realize I have my own personal library of muggle science books at home? I know about the health risks at any rate,” I smirked at her, “And I am working to stop it. It’s just… it’s not very helpful when you list all the reasons something is a bad idea to someone. Usually they know _why_ something is a bad idea, and they’ve already decided that the good parts of the idea outweigh the bad parts… or they are trying to stop the thing in question… or they _can’t_ stop the thing and you’re kind of just rubbing their face in it.”

Hermione flushed in embarrassment, “Oh. I guess you’re right.”

I nodded, giving her a look somewhere between amusement and earnesty.

“I dunno really how to stop that, though,” Hermione muttered, slamming her rune dictionary shut.

“It’s up to you whether or not you do. See? Examples of other responses to problems or ideas,” I grinned, “Just to add to your behavioral repertoire.”

Hermione rolled her eyes and pointed her quill at me, “Alright, missy. Let’s change the subject, then.”

“Oh lord, away from academics and critiquing each other?” I laughed, “I can debate about dinosaur bird origins again. I mean the evidence is incontrovertible and there are _still_ muggle paleontologists who say birds evolved from other reptiles –“

“Maggie,” Hermione groaned, burying her face in her hands.

“I’m convinced they’re all feathered. I’m going to carry on my gran’s work and go back to before the dinosaurs diverged form pterosaurs. Or at least, that’s one of the things I want to do,” I declared proudly.

“I do admit that would be fascinating,” Hermione agreed, “Oh right! _That’s_ what you remind me of!”

I paused for a long minute before asking, “What?”

“The raptors from Jurassic Park!” she giggled.

“Oh. My. God,” I groaned, “So many things wrong with that sentence. You do realize the raptors in that movie aren’t real _Velociraptors_? Also, I’m convinced they had feathers, Cheepers – I’ve told you about Cheepers – I mean he’s covered in them and _Velociraptor’s_ **gotta** be extremely closely related to birds – and they did discover that one big raptor, my Gran gets all the early pre-publication reports of findings – but they didn’t hold their hands like that – and they _weren’t_ that smart, **everyone** knows that, and –“

“I didn’t ask for your critique of the film raptors, I’m saying your’e like them,” Hermione laughed, “You’re intelligent and vicious.”

I stuck my tongue out at her, “Thanks. Maybe that’ll be my animagus form one day.”

“You just said they weren’t real!” Hermione protested.

“I’m joking,” I laughed. Hermione threw her quill at me and I ducked under the table, giggling happily.

“So serious question,” Hermione suddenly said as I sat up again, pulling out another piece of parchment to work on my homework.

“Yeah?” I asked nonchalantly.

“How are things with you and George?”

I dropped my quill and looked at her in shock.

“Haven’t we silently agreed that even though you know, I don’t want to talk about it?” I hissed under my breath.

“I refuse to let you bottle your emotions up. It’s not good for you,” Hermione folded her arms across her chest.

“Well you saw the exchange we had the other day,” I responded tertly.

“Yeah, you were trying to make him jealous. I think he was just bemused, honestly,” Hermione rolled her eyes, “And confused why you were mad.”

“I’m _mad_ ,” I paused angrily, “Because he’s going to date that horrible girl and she’s terrible for him.”

“I agree she’s terrible for him,” Hermione paused, “But I think you’re a wee bit dillusional on the whole they’re going to go out business.”

“You don’t hear them talk, Hermione,” I sighed sadly, feeling tears prick in the corners of my eyes that I wasn’t pleased about, “It’s practically like they’re already a couple.”

“Alright,” though Hermione sounded skeptical, “Well, don’t let it get you down too much. Plenty of fish in the sea.”

“Listen to you, miss in-love-with-my-brother!” I hissed softly. She colored brightly in embarrassment.

“I don’t know what it is, alright?” Hermione sighed, “I just… I rarely find people attractive! In any way! Honestly I think… Harry might be the only person.”

“How do you know George isn’t the only person I’ve found attractive, huh?” I retorted, though I was mildly surprised by the revelation.

“Maggie, I’ve seen you ogle at other people. Not to the same extent, I believe George is your first crush, but you find plenty of people attractive. You’ve blushed because of _Neville_ , for Merlin’s sake,” Hermione spoke shrewdly; though she had an odd look in her eye.

I blushed more now, “Well, yeah.”

“Frankly, I’ve seen you give the look to… lots of people. Of multiple genders,” she hissed very quietly.

“Can I help it that Angelina Johnson is a goddess on this earth?” I mumbled in complete and utter embarrassment.

“I’m just saying, you’ll be fine,” Hermione paused, “I, meanwhile, apparently am only able to be attracted to a single person.”

I looked at her seriously, leaning across the table and holding her hands tightly, “There is absolutely nothing wrong with that. You hear me?”

Hermione nodded, tears forming in her eyes that she hastily wiped away.

“You are a wonderful, perfect human being. There is nothing wrong with being attracted to only a few people, only one person, or no one. You understand?” I continued earnestly, squeezing her hands now.

Hermione nodded again, squeezing back lightly.

“Good. I’ll happily remind you of this as frequently as you need, alright?” I smiled slightly. She smiled back weakly.

“You’re a good friend, Maggie,” Hermione whispered.

“Bloody hell, Hermione, you’re… you’re practically my sister,” I smiled wider at her, “I better be a good friend.”

Hermione got up and hugged me tightly in my chair, knocking over one of my books, causing me to protest audibly.

“You’re my sister too,” she happily declaired in my ear, squeezing me tightly.

“Okay, okay, okay!” I shouted in protest, “Lemme go before you cause internal bleeding!”

Hermione laughed happily, looking fully cheered now, before sitting back at her seat. I rolled my eyes in happy bemusement before turning back to my own work.

The day before Harry’s big match, I knew I had to get over myself. I should never have expected George to reciprocate my feelings; he was much older than me and thought of me as his little sister, his _prodigy_ for Merlin’s sake. I was avoiding him and ruining my friendship with him and Fred due to my own selfishness. Not to mention, I was no longer channeling my anger through pranking and had gone back to violence; if things carried on, I’d probably end up strangling Malfoy.

I sat at the Breakfast table across from them and took a piece of toast. George looked at me in shock, as I had refused to talk to him since the argument.

“How are you, Maggie? Finally not swamped again?” Fred asked jovially, as though there was nothing wrong.

I sighed, “Well, I still haven’t finished Snape’s bloody Mourning-Harry essay, but I am getting through my reading and I should be less swamped soon.”

“Back to the old pranking team?” Fred furthered.

I grinned at him, still not looking at George, “Yeah, I reckon so.”

“Excellent. Come on, we’re the only things standing between you and bloody murder, literally,” Fred responded cheekily. I flicked a piece of toast at him and he laughed.

“Hey Maggie, can I talk to you in the corridor for a second?” George asked. I looked up at him and nodded. We left to the Entrance Hall and I crossed my arms in front of my chest reflexively, but he reached out and held my right upper arm with his left hand.

“I’m sorry if I offended you, Maggie,” George began. His hair had gotten obscenely long; he needed to cut it so that he could see through his bangs.

I was trying this whole thing where I thought of his flaws and not his good qualities.

“Don’t worry about it –“ I began calmly.

“Look, it was rude, okay? I have no right to… to criticize who you do or do not like or date or whatever,” George seemed to struggle getting that statement out.

“No, you don’t,” I agreed calmly, “Why do you even _care_?”

“I – why wouldn’t I – well –“ George spluttered, “I’m your friend, aren’t I?”

“One of my closest, yes,” I answered; still calmer than him despite the fact he hadn’t let go of my arm.

“Then I have a right to care about who do you do and do not date,” George shrugged, “Just, looking out for you, that’s all. Wouldn’t want to see you get hurt, would I?”

I managed a small smile, “Thanks, though you know I can take care of myself.”

“Oh, trust me, I know,” George paused, “But I can’t help it.”

“Well, thank you, again,” I nodded, “You just may have overreacted a bit.”

“And that’s what I’m sorry for,” George nodded. We stood awkwardly for a moment and George finally let go of my arm.

“I mean, I wouldn’t criticize _you_ on who _you_ like, would I?” I continued, feeling cheeky now.

“Right, because I would like anyone right now,” George grimaced.

“I mean, I’ve noticed you spending an _awful_ lot of time with someone,” I joked. George looked panicky, his eyes opening wide.

“I – I – I,” he stammered.

“She’s even in my year, I mean if you wanted to get to know her you just had to ask,” I continued, amazed at my tone of joviality.

“Wh – What –“

“Siobhan?” I inclined my head, genuinely confused at _his_ confusion, “You spend all your time with her, it seems like.”

“ _Siobhan_?” George responded in shock, “Right. I do, don’t I?”

I elbowed him in the side, “It seems like you really like her. And she really likes you; she gushes in the Dormitory all the time.”

She did, I wasn’t lying; I just chose to ignore it by stuffing a pillow over my ears.

“She… does?” George was frowning.

“Yeah. You should definitely take advantage of this,” I nodded. I was reaching the end of my faking-enthusiasm quota fast.

“… Right,” George was frowning, though.

“Anyways, I’ve got to go, but I’ll see you soon for pranking, alright?” I offered. George nodded, not saying anything, and I walked up the steps to the Grand Staircase, hastily wiping the tears from my eyes with my thumbs as I went.

Needless to say, I was happy to have Defense Against the Dark Arts that day; I needed a good lesson with a good professor. But when I entered, Professor Lupin wasn’t there – it was Professor Snape.

“Where’s Professor Lupin?” I asked as I sat down next to Hermione.

“He says he is feeling too ill to teach today,” Snape replied with a smile. I looked at Hermione and she shrugged wordlessly. Neville, sitting behind us, looked equally confused.

Harry entered late and got points taken off, probably because Wood was coaching him endlessly. Snape criticized Lupin incessantly, much to the general annoyance of my class, who loved Lupin in droves. But finally, he got to actual subject matter.

“Today we will discuss werewolves,” Snape ordered, “All of you, turn to page three-hundred and ninety four,” he over pronounced, “ _Now._ ”

We opened to the page that was far past where we were at with much muttering; I glared at Snape subtly, mentally communicating that I didn’t have _time_ for extra work, thanks to him.

“Which of you can tell me how we distinguish between the werewolf and the true wolf?” Snape asked. Everyone sat in silence except Hermione, who raised her hand.

“Anyone?” Snape continued, ignoring Hermione, “ Are you telling me that Professor Lupin hasn’t even taught you the basic distinction between –“

“We haven’t _gotten_ there yet,” I snapped.

“ _Silence!_ ” Snape ordered, “Well, well, well, I never thought I’d meet a third-year class who wouldn’t even recognize a werewolf when they saw one. I shall make a point of informing Professor Dumbledore how very behind you all are…”

“Please sir,” Hermione interjected for the second time, “the werewolf differs from the true wolf in several small ways. The snout of the werewolf –“

“That is the second time you have spoken out of turn, Miss Granger,” Snape interrupted coolly, “Five points from Gryffindor for being an insufferable know-it-all.”

Hermione went red next to me and stared at the floor with her eyes full of tears. I reached over and gently held her arm as Harry and Neville sat in pure indignation behind me. We spent the rest of the class taking notes on werewolves in silence and were assigned an essay, two rolls of parchment long, on how to recognize a werewolf, which drove me _mental._ He _knew_ I had to write the _seventh draft_ of his _mental Mourning Harry essay_.

“I really hope Professor Lupin gets better soon,” Hermione sighed as we left the classroom together, Harry nodding vigorously.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to take two classes with Snape,” Neville muttered under his breath. I reached over and hugged him sideways while walking, pressing my cheek against his arm, before continuing to walk alongside him calmly.

“You really should talk to someone, you know,” I stated as we headed up the staircase.

“Why?” Neville asked, his face flushed strangely.

“Because he’s abusing you?” I clarified, “I mean come on, he’s your bloody boggart. You should talk to Dumbledore.”

“I doubt Dumbledore would be able to do anything,” Neville muttered, looking downtrodden.

“C’mon, heir of Gryffindor,” I teased, making him blush redder than a tomato, “It’s worth a shot.”

Neville managed, despite his embarrassment, to stick his tongue out at me as we entered the Common Room.

The next morning I awoke to incessant rain pounding on my window. The clouds had finally broken, and were disintegrating with a vengeance. I went down to breakfast, terrified for Harry, and sat across from Neville calmly. The wind was horrific and it roared against the Great Hall, the sky a dark black above us in the ceiling. Hermione looked extremely concerned.

“Do you think they’ll be able to fly? Maybe they should postpone the match…” Hermione murmured.

“Do you really think they’ll do that, Hermione?” Neville rolled his eyes, “You know how people here about Quidditch. The only reason they’ll postpone a match is because students have been petrified, evidently.”

Hermione smiled weakly at his joke but still looked outside in concern. I shared her concern to the fullest.

We headed out, equipped with umbrellas enchanted so they wouldn’t flip over in the wind and break. We stood out in the stands, and were immediately soaked within five minutes. I started shivering violently and Hermione had started doing so long before me.

“Alright,” Neville shouted over the wind, “We huddle together for warmth.”

I laughed slightly but knew he was right, so we all wrapped our arms around together and smooshed as tightly as we could together in the stands. The match, when it finally started, found us shivering even more still thanks to the fact that there was only so much body heat we could share. The blanket Neville had thought to bring was soaked through, and Hermione, the smallest of us in terms of height and body weight, was cowering tightly under our arms.

Harry flew everywhere around the field but I could immediately tell he couldn’t see a damn thing with his glasses being attacked by water; I couldn’t even hear Lee Jordan over the wind and the entire match just looked chaotic, with no one knowing where they were or where they were going. Finally, a whistle was sounded and I could just make out down on the ground Wood calling a time out.

“Wait, I have an idea,” Hermione hissed, “You’ll have to do without me, good luck.”

She rushed down the stands to the field as I stepped closer to Neville and prayed for Harry’s safety. Neville’s arms were wrapped tightly around me and I felt myself blush furiously when I looked up and found his face only inches from mine. He blushed as well and looked away rapidly, muttering about the cold. When Hermione returned, her cheeks were brilliantly colored.

“What happened?” I asked cheerfully, reintroducing her into the hug of warmth.

“Nothing, I just made Harry’s glasses impervious to water, that’s all,” Hermione shrugged.

“Oh it’s totally more than that,” I teased.

Hermione scowled at me.

“What happened?” Neville was grinning next to me.

“So I kissed Harry on the cheek,” Hermione hissed, “Maggie does it all the time.”

Neville and I both laughed, though I was clearly laughing in amusement at Hermione’s crush – I didn’t know why _Neville_ was laughing. But when I turned to look at him, his face seemed to convey the same emotion, but directed at me.

“Wait, what are you laughing at…” Neville was frowning.

“Do you… know?” I asked.

“Do _you_?” Neville raised an eyebrow. There was a slight silence as Hermione stood next to us, smirking.

“She told me,” I offered, “A while ago, now.”

Neville nodded, “Well, I noticed. First off, I notice a lot with Hermione, she’s basically my sister.”

“Thanks Neville,” Hermione responded cheerfully.

“Anytime,” Neville responded, “Second off, come on, they were _so obvious_ Halloween night –“

“Oi!”

“I know, right?” I laughed.

“He doesn’t fancy her yet, unfortunately,” Neville shook his head sadly, “The day that happens…”

“We shall start plotting?”

“I thought that was obvious.”

Hermione was scowling now as we both beamed innocently at her.

“I could shatter both of your worlds in a single sentence,” she muttered. Neville’s eyes grew wide with terror, and I felt myself blush horrifically.

“Sorry Hermione,” we responded in unison.

“Yeah, that’s right,” Hermione grinned cheekily and turned back to watch the match again. Lightening was flashing brightly and thunder was sounding loudly near us. The weather was getting colder and colder, and now Neville, who was much taller than both Hermione and myself, had stepped behind us to wrap his arms around us and keep us warmer than him. As Harry zoomed towards the Snitch, though, the weather got even colder – a different, unnatural type of cold, and everything grew silent throughout the stands. An image flashed in front of my face again – Harry, dying, in the Chamber –

_OH SHIT_

I looked around wildly for the dementors, and Neville had began sobbing behind me, letting go of me and Hermione and falling to the floor of the stands into a ball, and Hermione had her teeth clenched as we looked down to see a hundred dementors standing in the field. Harry on his broomstick grew limp, and he began plummeting to Earth, and Hermione and I were screaming in unison and in equal high pitch, and a voice boomed out over intercom a spell I didn’t recognize, and I couldn’t see through the terror that had filled me. I didn’t need dementors; my worst memory was already here.

But the spell slowed Harry’s approach to the ground and it looked like most of the staff was down on the field now. Dumbledore shot another spell, a silvery looking bird shooting out the end of his wand, driving all the dementors away.

“Come on,” Neville urged, having regained his composure enough to weakly stand, but Hermione and I were both frozen in place with horror.

“Guys, come _on_ ,” Neville grunted, pulling us down with him to the field to finally reach Harry’s side. Though he was spread eagled on the ground, his glasses were intact and he looked mostly okay. I couldn’t see much through both the rain and my tears, though.

“We must get him to the Hospital Wing – move aside, move aside,” Professor McGonagall urged. I moved aside, but I still followed him on the stretcher Professor Dumbledore had conjured, along with Neville and Hermione, to the Hospital Wing. 

We sat there for a while; at one point, most of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team, as well as Ron and Ginny Weasley, had entered and come to stand with us.

“We’ve got more bad news,” Ron grunted irritably.

“This is the real kicker,” Ginny sighed.

George held up a bag and shook his head sadly, “This is what remains of Harry’s Nimbus 2000.”

I felt my eyes widen despite their puffiness at crying so much.

“It flew into the Womping Willow – you know, that tree that attacks you if you get too close?” Fred asked, “We almost got walloped by it last year once, Maggie.”

I nodded in understanding.

“My God, he loved that broom,” Neville sighed.

“He’s going to be devastated,” Hermione whispered.

“I’m just glad he’s okay,” I murmured.

“Lucky the ground was so soft,” Fred frowned.

“I was so convinced he was going to die,” Ginny mumbled.

“But he didn’t even break his glasses,” Ron shook his head in amazement.

“That was the scariest thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” Hermione sighed.

Harry’s eyes suddenly opened and he looked around at all of us in confusion. I immediately reached out and held his hand.

“Harry!” Fred shouted, looking very pale, “How’re you feeling?”

“What – happened?” Harry whispered.

“You fell off,” Fred explained, “Must’ve been – what – fifty feet?”

“We thought you’d died,” Alicia whispered, who was shaking. Hermione made a small squeaky noise and I blew my nose in the hem of my shirt unashamedly.

“But the match,” Harry insisted, “What happened? Are we doing a replay?”

_Awkward_

“We didn’t – _lose_?”

Harry looked so downtrodden I just wanted to hug him, but that would be awkward at this angle. Boobs would be in faces and it would just be a bad idea.

“Diggory got the snitch,” George admitted, “Just after you fell. He didn’t realize what had happened. When he looked back and saw you on the ground, he tried to call it off. Wanted a rematch. But they won fair and square… even Wood admits it.”

“Where is Wood?” Harry asked, his features visibly sinking into sadness.

“Still in the showers,” Fred sighed, “We think he’s trying to drown himself.”

Harry buried his face in his knees, scratching the back of his head with his hand. I reached out and touched his shoulder.

“Come on, Harry. You’ve never missed the Snitch before,” I murmured, “There had to be one time you didn’t get it, and it wasn’t even your fault.”

“Gryffindor can still come back from this,” Ron offered.

“We lost by a hundred points,” Fred agreed, “So if Hufflepuff loses to Ravenclaw and we beat Ravenclaw and Slytherin, though, Hufflepuff will have to lose by at least two hundred points.”

“It all depends on the points – a margin of a hundred either way –“ George nodded.

Harry frowned, “Alright… did someone get my broom?”

We all shuffled awkwardly again.

“What?” Harry demanded.

“Well… when you fell off, it got blown away,” Hermione whispered hesitantly.

“And?”

“And it hit – it hit – oh Harry, it hit the Whomping Willow…” Hermione whispered.

Harry looked crestfallen as he murmured, “And?”

“Well… the Womping Willow doesn’t like being hit, much,” Fred sighed.

“Professor Flitwick brought it back,” Hermione murmured as she reached down for the bag and dumped all the little pieces of wood and twig onto the bed. Harry looked like his entire world had come crashing down, which broke my heart.

Eventually we were all ushered out of the room, but not before I gave Harry an awkward hug. I knew how this must have been killing him.

Whenever I visited Harry in the hospital wing that weekend, he seemed even more troubled than I had expected. I figured it was probably about the dementors as much as losing and losing his broomstick; but it seemed like there was more there he wasn’t telling us.

When he returned to school, Draco Malfoy’s taunting was merciless and, having foreseen this, Professor McGonagall made me throw myself into my Animagus work and Professor Snape made sure to keep us as separate as possible in Potions, a similar situation happening with Hagrid in Care of Magical Creatures.

Professor Lupin returned and taught a truly wonderful lesson on Hinkypunks, telling us that Snape’s essay need not be handed in. Hermione, Neville and I left, but Harry stayed behind to talk to Lupin.

Hermione still looked rather shaken up about the weekend.

“He’ll be OK, Hermione,” I murmured in reassurance, “Seriously.”

Hermione nodded and we ran into Fred and George in the hallway.

“Maggie! We need to talk to you, now,” Fred nodded. I frowned at him and followed him and George into the next corridor as Hermione and Neville continued to walk back to the Great Hall for lunch.

“What’s up?” I asked, frowning at them.

“The time has come!” Fred declared.

“We have practiced and tested ourselves and ensured that we are ready to give this to you,” George clarified.

“We spent this whole term so far making sure we’d memorized everything, and we have definite proof that this is true,” Fred explained.

“But now, it is your turn. Your turn to memorize it’s every vagary and secret, in true Troublemaking tradition,” George beamed.

“What _is_ it?” I laughed.

Fred pulled out an old piece of parchment I was very familiar with.

“The _Marauder’s_ Map!” I gasped.

“Exactly,” Fred beamed.

“And we reckon – just an idea – you could use it to get to Hogsmeade,” George winked, “We have another weekend coming up for Christmas.”

“You two are _brilliant_. But you know,” I frowned, “I’m going to have to show it to Harry.”

“It’s yours now; you may do with it what you wish,” Fred bowed.

“Alright,” I laughed, “Thanks, guys. Seriously.”

“Anytime. You know how to get to the Honeydukes passage, so we’ll meet you by Zonko’s,” Fred beamed.

“Of course!” I laughed, “This is excellent. I’ll keep it a surprise for Harry until the day of.” I then impulsively hugged the both of them in an awkward fashion, as they were both a foot and a half taller than me, “Thank you guys.”

“Oh no problem Maggie,” Fred grinned.

“Anything for our prodigy,” George smiled.

“Now, if you’ll excuse us, we’re going to go and see Professor Lupin about some homework we had,” Fred paused.

“Remember that muggle movie Dad made us watch when he finally figured out how to work that telly?” George asked.

“Which _one_?” Fred rolled his eyes.

“Oh, it has a little song that I felt was appropriate,” George winked at me and I laughed out loud.

“Wait a minute…” Fred frowned.

“Weeeeeeeeeeee’reeeeeeeeeee,” George began, singing rather badly and waiting for Fred to join in.

Fred immediately linked his arm with George’s, turned away from me, and continued, “Off to see the Wizard!”

They began skipping down the corridor singing, “The Wonderful Wizard of Oz!”

I fell over laughing in the middle of the corridor as I heard their singing trail all the way back to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.

When it was finally time for the Hogsmeade visit, I immediately grabbed Harry and pulled him into an empty corridor on the third floor, ready for going to the statue of the one-eyed witch.

“Harry,” I beamed, “I’ve got you a Christmas present a little early this year.”

Harry frowned at me.

“Now, I have Fred and George to sneak me into places, and if I really need it I have asking-for-it rights, alright?” I clarified.

Harry nodded, still mute.

I pulled out the parchment and sang, “Ta-Da!”

Harry raised an eyebrow in puzzlement.

I took out my wand, pointed it at the Parchment and murmured, “ _I Solemnly Swear that I am Up to No Good!_ ”

The Parchment thus proclaimed, “ _Messers. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs, Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief Makers are proud to present_ The Marauder’s Map.”

“What -?” Harry asked in confusion.

“This,” I beamed, “Is a map of the entire castle. It shows everything, everyone, where they are, what they’re doing, every minute, of every day. It also shows _every single passageway in the castle_. Including,” I took a dramatic pause for effect, “ _The ones leading in and out of Hogsmeade._ ”

Harry’s eyes widened and he whispered, “No!”

“Yes!” I grinned, “We can go!”

Harry looked up at me in shock, “This is how you got in last year?”

“Yep!”

“You just – snuck out?”

“What else would I have done?”

“I dunno, I thought you did some funky magic thing but… why are you giving this to me?” Harry frowned, “I mean, Fred and George gave it to you, I assume…”

“Well Harry,” I smiled, “If I have you three around me almost all the time, why would I need it? Besides, you’ll probably find better use for it than I would.”

“Fair enough,” Harry grinned, “Lead the way, sis.”

Harry and I went back up to the Common Room, him grabbing his Invisibility Cloak for sneaking purposes and us both grabbing some money and warmer clothes for walking around in.

We snuck through the Honeydukes passageway and managed to get into the shop without anyone seeing us, wiping the map clean. Harry stuck it in his pocket as we spied Hermione and Neville at the other end of the shop. We snuck towards them, grinning at each other.

They were examining some acid pops, frowning at them.

“Hermione, I’m telling you, no one should eat those…”

“I want to bring them back something _different_.”

“How about Cockroach Clusters?” Neville suggested.

“Um, no,” Harry and I said in unison. The other two spun around on their heels and looked at us in shock.

“Harry! Maggie!” Hermione and Neville gasped in shock.

“Hi,” we both waved.

“How are you here?” Neville gasped in wonderment.

“Snuck in, like I did last year,” I offered.

“But… how?” Hermione’s eyes were wide.

“This is how,” Harry beamed and showed them the map, explaining how it worked.

“Well that’s brilliant!” Neville laughed, “Come on, let’s go exploring.”

Hermione still looked nervous, and I knew why – there _was_ a reason, after all, why we weren’t in Hogsmeade legally in the first place.

“You aren’t going to… keep it, are you, Harry?” Hermione murmured, “You’re going to hand it in to Professor McGonagall, aren’t you?”

“No,” Harry responded calmly, “I know it’s probably dangerous – who knows, maybe Sirius Black can work it – but Maggie gave this up for me when it was her ‘chief trickster’ birthright or whatever term one would use for that rubbish. And it’s very useful; not just for sneaking out, but I’m sure there’s loads more that I could use this for – what if I need to track someone in the school cause I think they’re up to no good? I mean, take last year for example – I could have used this to see that Ginny was going to Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom regularly and, knowing that, pieced some of that together. I could have seen in the first year that Professor Quirrell had been on the third floor and Snape was chasing him, or released the Troll. This isn’t something I’m going to give up. What if I see Sirius Black on it?”

“Alright,” Hermione sighed, “Alright. But what if Sirius Black is using one of the passageways from Hogsmeade to get into the castle…”

“He can’t be,” I responded calmly, “Look at the map. There are seven secret tunnels, you can see them,” I pointed at the parchment, “Fred and George told me everything about them. Filch knows about four of them, they told me, so Sirius would have been caught by one of them. And with the other three – one’s caved in, one of them’s got the Womping Willow planted over the entrance, so you can’t get out of it, and the only one that actually works, he’d have to have gone through _Honeydukes_ , a shop with people living over it, and the door is really hard to find down in the cellar. He’d have to walk through _Hogsmeade_ to even get to the shop!”

“Not to mention, Hermione,” Neville inclined his head at a sign as we left Honeydukes, which read

BY ORDER OF  
**THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC**

_Customers are reminded that until further notice, dementors will be patrolling the streets of Hogsmeade every night after sundown. This measure has been put in place for the safety of Hogsmeade residents and will be lifted upon the recapture of Sirius Black. It is therefore advisable that you complete your shopping well before nightfall.  
Merry Christmas!_

“Yeah, I’d like to see Black get through that, Hermione,” Harry nodded.

The snow was swirling around madly around us. Hermione still looked skeptical.

“Look, Hermione, I admit we probably shouldn’t be caught out here – since I know that’s what you’re going to say,” Harry murmured kindly, “But no one’s going to recognize us in this mess of snow unless they’re looking for us; I have the cloak in case we need to disappear; and it’s Christmas,” Harry gave Hermione big puppy dog eyes and she finally relented.

“Alright, alright,” Hermione sighed, “Honestly though, you’ve got to promise you won’t… abuse it.”

“My word,” Harry nodded, “Come on, let’s go to the Three Broomsticks – I want to try Butterbeer.”

“Um, can we bring Maggie there?” Neville laughed.

“I promised Fred and George I’d meet them at Zonko’s,” I grinned, “I’ll catch up with you all later.”

“Alright. We’ll go to the Three Broomsticks,” Hermione nodded, “Where shall we meet up?”

“Honeydukes again?” I offered, “Since that’s how Harry and I have to get out.”

“Sounds good,” Hermione agreed, “Bye!”

I headed through the snow to Zonko’s and entered to see the twins there, and no Siobhan, which made me extraordinarily happy.

“Maggie!” George beamed. I smiled at the two of them and looked around at all the pranks.

“Shall we do some shopping?” Fred asked, but he sounded rather cold. It confused me. He had been very cheerful just yesterday…

“Sure!” I decided to pretend like I didn’t notice his change in personality.

“Look there, Maggie – more hair dye pranks. Seriously, Malfoy deserves it these days…” George began prattling on as if he didn’t notice anything either, but I saw him flash a dirty look over at Fred when he thought I wasn’t looking.

We explored Zonko’s for a long time and I picked up a right haul of pranks, most of which I planned to implement on Malfoy or on Filch. As we continued around, Fred didn’t look any more cheerful, though George was still fine. I really had no idea what was up with them.

When we left the shop, George turned to me and said, “Hey Maggie, could I talk to you for a moment? Just a moment.”

“Sure –“ I answered but Fred interrupted.

“ _Actually_ , George, I saw Lee Jordan at the Hog’s Head – trying to buy Firewhiskey again, and that’s even worse than Butterbeer, so I don’t think we should bring Maggie along. I _do_ remember we promised to see him in Hogsmeade,” Fred stated calmly, a tone of coolness in his voice. I felt rejected.

“Alright… see you, Maggie,” George sighed, turning around.

“See you, Maggie,” Fred echoed. However, I held him back and hissed in his ear so George couldn’t hear, “ _Are you mad at me?_ ”

“You?” Fred answered loudly, so George could year, “No, I’m _not_ mad at _you_.  Trust me.” George looked peeved at his statement. Fred smiled in a strange way, bowed, and left with George.

 _What was all **that** about?_ I though peevishly as I headed back to Honeydukes. Harry, Hermione, and Neville were there, and all had serious expressions on their faces. Well, the last two did – Harry looked positively distraught. I rushed forward and held his arms tightly.

“Wha – what’s wrong? What happened?” I demanded urgently.

“We… we found out something, in the Three Broomsticks,” Hermione murmured hesitantly, looking back from Harry to me in worry, “Let’s go somewhere where we can tell you.”

We walked through the snow to the end of the street where there was a small park, and stood in the middle of the snowy field.

“You know… that Sirius Black blew up a street, killing thirteen people, one of whom was a wizard and twelve of whom were muggles,” Hermione murmured.

“Yeah,” I nodded, “Insane. Mental.”

“Right, well, McGonagall, Flitwick, Hagrid, and the Minister of Magic himself came into the Three Broomsticks and were talking with the barmaid – Madam Rosemerta. We had to hide Harry underneath the table, so it’s _really_ good you weren’t there,” Neville continued.

“Well first off, McGonagall seemed to still be in shock that Black had turned to the Dark Side, as it were – apparently it was completely different than who he was at Hogwarts,” Hermione began. Harry was still silent, but I saw tears in his eyes and my concern grew.

“But he didn’t… _just_ go over to the Dark Side,” Neville sighed. He took a long time before continuing, “He was best friends with James… James Potter, you see.”

“ _What?!_ ” I gasped.

Hermione and Neville nodded gravely.

“They did everything together at Hogwarts… they were troublemakers, like Fred and George, really… they were like brothers,” Hermione whispered.

I looked at Harry and back at Hermione again, nodding for her to continue.

“Black was James’ best man when he married Lily, and he’s Harry’s godfather,” Hermione continued.

“ _No!_ ” I gasped. Harry nodded gravely.

“There’s more,” Hermione whispered.

“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me,” I shook my head sadly.

“Well, Harry’s parents… they knew You-Know-Who was after them. They went into hiding the moment Harry was born, but not… as far into hiding as they could go,” Hermione paused, “There’s this thing I’ve read about, called the Fidelius Charm, or Secret Keeping – it means that you tell one person your secret, just one, and only that person can tell others about it – back during the war, lots of people had Secret Keepers that knew where they lived so they could go into hiding. It was the best way to do it – no one could find out about the secret, except if they asked the Secret Keeper.”

“My parents had a secret keeper,” Neville offered. This struck me, as Neville _never_ mentioned his parents. I literally knew nothing about them.

I frowned, putting pieces of information together in my head, “You… You _don’t mean_ …”

Hermione nodded, “Black was the Potters’ Secret-Keeper… James really, really trusted him… Dumbledore was still worried though, apparently, according to McGonagall he offered to be their Secret-Keeper himself… He knew that someone close to the Potters had been keeping You-Know-Who informed of their movements… he knew someone had turned traitor…”

“But James Potter still insisted on using Black, and then just a week after the Fidelius Charm was performed, Black betrayed them to You-Know-Who, and that’s how he found them, killed Harry’s parents and was defeated by Harry,” Neville finished.

“Even worse still, on _top_ of all that, one of James’ friends, a man by the name of Peter Pettigrew – he was one of Black’s friends, too, all of them were mates at school… he confronted Black in the street about betraying the Potters, and Black killed him. The street blew up, all that was left of Pettigrew was a finger… and Black just _stood_ there, _laughing_ …” Hermione whispered.

I felt fury bubble up inside me.

“I’m sorry,” I spat, “But the worst thing that anyone can do, in my head, is betray someone who cares about them. Even if you don’t care about that person _at all_ , that is the _worst thing to do_ , betray someone’s trust.”

Hermione and Neville nodded in equal concern.

“I mean it,” I was seeing red with the anger that had filled the pit of my stomach, “I mean it. I will kill him.”

Harry looked up sharply, “Are we going to have a competition in this, Maggie?”

“Together, then,” I reached out and clasped him on the shoulder. Of course, I was the only one here who knew that Voldemort hadn’t really been after the Potters in general – he had been after Harry, because he had to be, because of what Snape said. So that meant that Sirius Black didn’t betray the Potters, though he did – he had been _intending_ to betray _Harry. His Godson._

He had to go. He was no longer fit to live on the same planet as me. He had to die.

No one betrays Harry Potter and gets away with it while _I’m_ alive.

Harry clasped me on the shoulder in unison, “Together.”

“You guys, you don’t know what you’re saying – you can’t defeat Black, he’s a powerful wizard, he killed thirteen people with a single curse…” Hermione was whispering. Neville looked pale.

I whirled on my heels, “Hermione, don’t you _get_ it? _No one_ hurts Harry and gets away with it with _me_.”

“Maggie, it was _ages_ ago, it won’t bring Harry’s parents back or right was done…”

“It doesn’t _matter_ ,” I snapped, “He betrayed Harry’s family, he betrayed _Harry_ , he turned to the Dark Side, he killed many innocent people, and now he’s after Harry again, and plans to rejoin Voldy-pants. Don’t you _get_ it?” I sneered, “I can’t _let_ him _live_. If I find him – if he comes back to Hogwarts,” I pulled the map from Harry’s pocket, “I will _murder him_.”

Harry was nodding in agreement. Hermione looked positively distressed, as did Neville.

“We’ll… just try to calm down. Let’s go back up to the Castle – we’ll meet you there… just… try to think more clearly,” Hermione begged.

I shrugged, knowing that if I said I would, it would just be an empty promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the feedback, guys! Please continue to let me know what you think! (Hermione, for those who want to know, is demiromantic asexual. She falls for a grand total of two people in the course of the story, both of whom are listed in the pairings. Who will she end up with in the end? Well that's the mystery, isn't it?)


	21. Chapter Twenty: Christmas Holidays, 1993-1994

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You see right through a million
> 
> Words that I wrote
> 
> Built up mountains of shrapnel 
> 
> I've made my mind up, my mind up
> 
> Because the line drawn in the sand's wrong
> 
> When all the pioneers are gone
> 
> And all that's left are unresolved
> 
> Out of step opinions 
> 
> And you say the word and I will come 
> 
> With overbearing clouds of warmth
> 
> Out of breath but not alone." 
> 
> ~ Silversun Pickups, "Out of Breath"

Chapter Twenty: Christmas Holidays, 1993-1994

The next day was the first day of the holidays, and Harry didn’t look well. I don’t really think I probably looked healthy either, but at the same time I didn’t care much about myself.

“How are you doing, Harry?” Hermione immediately asked.

“Terribly,” Harry answered in a short voice. Neville hovered behind an armchair, looking at the pair of us with concern.

“Guys…” Neville whispered. We looked up in unison and his eyes widened.

“What?” I snapped.

“Sorry. I just never really am aware that you guys are related… I mean, you act like twins, that’s not what I mean – I just never think of you two as _genetically_ similar because you look so different… but just then you looked very similar. Your eyes are identical, that’s not what I’m getting at – just the identical looks of irritation and anger… your faces were shaped very similarly and it was striking, that’s all,” Neville explained.

“Alright, so what did you want to say before that?” Harry shook his head.

“I just… I don’t think it’s smart for you to go looking for Black, alright?” Neville spluttered out, “You… he’s dangerous, he’s not… not worth dying for, guys. I don’t…”

Hermione continued for Neville, who didn’t seem to be able to go on, “I understand how you two feel. Harry, you have every right to want Black dead. He is the reason behind a lot of pain in your life. And Maggie, I understand how you think, and I understand that you can’t _help_ but want to murder him – it’s in your nature. But really… you two ought to thank him I think.”

“ _WHAT?!_ ” we both shouted in unison anger and astonishment.

“Harry’s parents dying was a horrific and tragic thing,” Hermione assured, “I wish it hadn’t happened, don’t get me wrong. But the silver lining… well, you two would never have been so close, would you?”

Harry and I looked at each other in unison shock. Hermione had a point… he would just have been my distant cousin.

“And… I mean, Harry wouldn’t have grown up having to be the reasonable one – he might have been as big a prat as Ron,” Hermione offered, “At least, not as attuned to his surroundings as he is having grown up with Maggie. And… And Maggie might not have had such a strong protective instinct – instead just… anger, with no way to direct it. You two help each other, and you have something really special. Really.”

I frowned and stared down at my shoes.

“That doesn’t mean I should _thank him_ for _killing my parents_ , Hermione,” Harry finally said.

“No, I phrased that wrong at the beginning, I’m just saying… there’s always a silver lining to everything. And though your anger is completely justified… there are things that are too extreme,” Hermione finished.

“I mean, you guys, you’re good at magic. Don’t misunderstand me – you’re _brilliant_ , you’re _brave_ , and if any third years could tackle Sirius Black it would be you, but… you’re _third years_. And Black is _dangerous_. I just…” Neville sighed, “I dunno what I’d do without you guys. I love Hermione and all, but just _her_ all the time?”

“Trust me, you guys balance out our little group,” Hermione agreed.

“And I… I don’t want you guys to die, or get hurt. I don’t know what I’d do,” Neville finished. I looked up at him and sighed.

“It’s what Black wants, for you to put yourself in d-danger, Harry,” Hermione murmured, “You can’t… Don’t _give him_ the satisfaction. Show him that you’ve grown up adjusted and okay d-despite what he did to you. Be happy and normal and healthy and not constantly seeking for revenge.”

I was still furious, but I could see Hermione’s point.

“Hermione,” Harry paused, “You don’t understand, do you? _None_ of you understand – not even you, Maggie.”

I looked at him in shock.

“Even growing up with you, Maggie, I’ve felt isolated my whole life. We’re not even closely related – like Hermione said - you’re my _second_ cousin. Your parents made it clear from the beginning that I’m _not_ their son; they love me, but not at the same level that they love and accept you and Elena. Elena pretty much _despises_ me because she thinks if I weren’t around you two would be attached at the hip. You think of me as your brother, your twin, but we’re _not_ , and I’m painfully aware of that, even if I think of you in the same exact way. I’m constantly, painfully aware of the fact that you all aren’t my _real_ family, my _original_ family. I want you to be, I want so desperately to be able to fool myself that this is true… but I can’t. I long, every single day, for my parents. You know what I think was my most awful thought of my life?” Harry paused.

“What?” I asked quietly.

“That _your_ parents had died and you grew up with me and _my_ parents as _my_ adopted sister,” Harry whispered.

I felt my eyes widen.

“I took it back immediately when I thought it – it was first year, after I saw the Mirror. But I still thought it,” Harry let out a cruel sounding laugh, “I want both – is that selfish of me? I want you to be my sister, my twin sister in all but closeness of blood; but I want _my_ parents too.”

“That’s not selfish, Harry,” Hermione whispered, “It’s normal.”

“Everyone’s always constantly talking to me about my parents. How I look just like my dad. How I act just like my mum. I don’t know anything about them! We found out that my mum and Snape had been friends over the holidays and it was the biggest shock of my life. What were they into? Who were their friends? Well I know some of that last part now – and when I finally learn something about my dad, I find out that he had been betrayed! How am I supposed to react to that? And I understand why your mum doesn’t tell me anything – I mean she lost her cousin, she misses her desperately, I heard her talk to Uncle Nathaniel once about it – she can’t handle looking or talking about the past, that’s just her nature. But I have so many questions, and so many wonders,” Harry continued.

“I… I know,” I sighed dejectedly, “My mum really has trouble talking about the War and everything that happened… I’m sorry…”

“It’s not your fault, but it means I just… I don’t know who I _am_. I don’t know where I’ve _come_ from. Were they good at school? My dad was good at Quidditch – was my mum? They were both in Gryffindor – what did they do during the War? Did they solve mysteries like we do? I just… I wish I had them in my life. Obviously they would have been good parents. They _died_ for me,” Harry shook his head dejectedly.

“Of course they would have been,” Neville urged.

“And maybe I wouldn’t be as close to Maggie if he hadn’t betrayed my parents – but my mum and Maggie’s mum were close. We would have been close our whole lives, just maybe not _as_ close. The only reason we wouldn’t be close is if… if…”

“Mum’s parents had moved to America like they very nearly did when Mum was born,” I offered.

“Right,” Harry nodded, “That’s basically the only reason I can see for it. And I could have had Mum and Dad. _My_ Mum and Dad, two people who always will love me unconditionally, even if I turn into some sort of monster… _my_ parents, James and Lily. That’s what was taken away from me – unconditional love. Even Maggie’s love is conditional, just at the last possible point – I uselessly kill someone for pleasure.”

“Multiple people, I’ve amended it,” I paused, “You kill multiple innocent people and get immense pleasure out of it with no guilt. The moment you have guilt I’ll love you again.”

“See? There’s a condition,” Harry shook his head sadly.

“But _Harry_ , I _know_ you,” I offered, “I know you better than anyone and you can’t deny that, and I _know_ you’d _never_ go on a killing spree for fun without having gone through a major personality change – a betrayal of _yourself_.”

“Like Black?”

“Well… yes,” I paused, “But you _won’t_ , because you’re _Harry_. So I consider it unconditional love.”

“It still doesn’t change my main point,” Harry muttered.

“No, it doesn’t, Harry,” Hermione offered, “But your parents wouldn’t want you to go chasing after Black even so. Your mum _died_ for you, Harry – she’s the reason you’re _alive_. She wouldn’t want you to waste that chasing down a man in some sort of futile gesture.”

Harry closed his eyes tightly.

“Let’s do something,” Neville interjected, “Let’s go to Hagrid’s Hut, we haven’t visited him in ages.”

“I can ask him about Black,” Harry nodded in agreement.

“Oh Merlin,” Hermione sighed, “You can’t go onto the grounds, Harry…”

“They can’t keep me locked up,” Harry snapped, “Let’s go.”

I was beginning to calm down a bit, but it was clear that Harry was still furious as we went down to the Hut. The light was on and the snow was up to our knees on the ground as we sludged through it. Harry seemed to be channeling his inner Maggie, and I didn’t know whether to be proud or terrified at the unbridled fury careening from him.

 _Is this how people feel around me_? I thought in amazement, _No wonder I can count my friends on two hands_.

We reached the door and Harry pounded on it, but there was no answer.

“What’s going on?” Neville asked through his chattering teeth from the cold.

 _Cold wimps_.

“There’s a weird noise…” I commented as I pressed my ear against the door… “Some sort of moan.”

Harry, Hermione, and Neville managed to also press their ears against the door and listen.

“Do you think something’s wrong?” Hermione whispered.

“Hagrid?!” Harry shouted, thumping the door again, “Hagrid, are you in there?!”

There were heavy footsteps and the door flung open. Hagrid threw himself almost immediately on Harry.

“So yeh’ve heard?” he wailed loudly. Hermione and I immediately rushed forward and helped seize Hagrid and pull him back into the cabin. Hagrid sat down in a chair and slumped over his table, sobbing uncontrollably.

“What _is_ it, Hagrid?” Hermione gasped.

Harry and I both saw a letter on Hagrid’s table and we grabbed it, Harry opening it and reading aloud:

“ _Dear Mr. Hagrid  
Further to our inquiry into the attack by a hippogriff on a student in your class, we have accepted the assurances of Professor Dumbledore that you bear no responsibility for the regrettable incident._ ”

“Excellent, Hagrid!” Neville gasped, “You’re not going to get sacked!” Hagrid waved with his hand though and Harry continued reading.

“ _However, we must register our concern about the hippogriff in question. We have decided to uphold the official complaint of Mr. Lucius Malfoy, and this matter will therefore be taken to the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures. The hearing will take place on April 20 th, and we ask you to present yourself and your hippogriff at the Committee’s offices in London on that date. In the meantime, the hippogriff should be kept tethered and isolated._ And a bunch of names follow,” Harry finished.

“Oh…” I whispered.

“Buckbeak isn’t a _bad_ hippogriff, though, he’ll probably get off,” Neville reassured.

“Yeh don’ _know_ them gargoyles at the Committee fer the Disposal o’ Dangerous Creatures!” Hagrid croaked, “They’ve got it in fer interestin’ creatures!”

Buckbeak the hippogriff was tethered to the corner of Hagrid’s hut, eating something that was oozing blood all over the floor.

“I couldn’ leave him tied up out there in the snow! All on his own! At Christmas!” Hagrid protested.

Neville, Hermione, Harry and I all looked at each other. Though I usually was in Hagrid’s camp, what we thought as ‘interesting creatures’ were usually classified as ‘terrifying monsters.’ Still, Buckbeak didn’t qualify in that category.

“You’ll have to put up a good strong defense, Hagrid,” Hermione began and gently holding Hagrid’s forearm, “I’m sure you can prove Buckbeak is safe.”

“Won’t make no diff’rence!” Hagrid sobbed, “Them Disposal devils, they’re all in Lucius Malfoy’s pocket! Scared o’ him! An’ if I lose the case, Buckbeak –“

_I HATE THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC._

The red-hot anger had bubbled up in my chest again and I felt myself grip the arms of my chair. Something hot felt like it was rising in my throat and I saw red. I needed to calm down, so I focused on Harry’s words.

“What about Dumbledore, Hagrid?” Harry asked.

“He’s done more’n enough fer me already,’ Hagrid groaned, “Got enough on his plate what with keepin’ them dementors outta the castle, an’ Sirius Black lurkin’ around…”

I looked at Harry sharply, praying for him to not bring up Hagrid not saying anything to him about Black. But he didn’t seem to have the heart.

“Listen, Hagrid, you can’t give up,” Harry continued, “Hermione’s right. You just need a good defense. You can call us as witnesses –“

“I’m sure I’ve read about a case of hippogriff – baiting,” Hermione commented, “Where the hippogriff got off. I’ll look it up for you, Hagrid, and see exactly what happened.”

Hagrid simply wailed in response.

“We can do this, Hagrid, as long as we set our minds to it,” I assured, “You’ve just got to stay strong.”

Hagrid blew his nose loudly and nodded, “Yer right. I can’ afford to go ter pieces. I’ve not bin meself lately… Worried abou’ Buckbeak, an’ no one likin’ me classes –“

“We love them, Hagrid,” I inserted before anyone else could.

“Thank yeh, Maggie,” Hagrid smiled waterly at me, “Yeh really do well with the Flobberworms.”

“Erm…” I was trying not to laugh, “It’s not… difficult.”

“Course… Course. But… An’ them dementors make me feel ruddy terrible an’ all,” Hagrid shuddered, “Gotta walk past ‘em ev’ry time I want a drink in the Three Broomsticks. ‘S like bein’ back in Azkaban…”

Hagrid went silent. We all looked at him with unstoppable curiosity.

“Is it awful in there, Hagrid?” Hermione murmured.

“Yeh’ve no idea,” Hagrid responded quietly, “Never bin anywhere like it. THoguht I was goin’ mad. Kep’ goin’ over horrible stuff in me mind… the day I got expelled from Hogwarts… day me dad died… day I had ter let Norbert go… Yeh can’ really remember who yeh are after a while. An’ yeh can’ see the point o’ livin’ at all. I used ter hope I’d jus’ die in me sleep… When they let me out, it was like bein’ born again, ev’rythin’ came floodin’ back, it was the bes’ feelin’ in the world. Mind, the dementors weren’t keen on lettin’ me go.”

“But you were _innocent_ ,” Neville protested. Hagrid snorted in response.

“Think that matters to them? They don’ care. Long as they’ve got a couple o’ hundred humans stuck there with ‘em, so they can leech all the happiness out of ‘em, they don’ give a damn who’s guilty and who’s not.”

Hagrid paused, staring into the fire, before leaning closer to us and whispering, “Thought o’ jus’ letting Buckbeak go… tryin’ ter make him fly away… but how d’yeh explain ter a hippogriff it’s gotta go inter hidin’? An’ – an’ I’m scared o’ breakin’ the law… I don’ ever want ter go back to Azkaban.”

The trip to Hagrid’s managed to distract Harry from Black, and me as well. We spent most of our time before Christmas going into the library and researching court cases on dangerous animals, trying to prepare a defense for Buckbeak, even though I had to rewrite for the _twelfth time_ my essay on my Harry Mourning Process and I had to finish my last Animagus book.

Magical law books were heavy and terrifying. I had read my fair share of thick tomes, but this was a whole new plane – legalease was much denser and more complicated than scientific jargon. We sat in the corner of the library the night before Christmas, huddled over the books, scratching out extensive notes. I found myself often having to reread ever _sentence_ at least three times before I got the meaning, which made going through the books a slow process. Neville across from me had the most concentrated look on his face, his brow furrowed tightly as he mouthed the words while reading them. At the beginning, he would actually say the words aloud, but as that distracted the rest of us he had to force himself to be quiet. Harry sat next to me reading heavily, his cheek in his palm, his glasses askew, and his eyes glazed over with the effort.

Only Hermione seemed to have a grasp on the books, reading them rapidly and taking copious, neatly organized notes. She got through books twice as fast as Harry did, thrice as fast as I did, and four times as fast as Neville did.

“Alright, so it looks like the laws are clear in this case – this was an instructor lead session – “ Hermione muttered softly to herself.

“I just don’t have the mind for this stuff,” I groaned, slamming my book on the table and ramming my head against it multiple times.

“How is it I’m doing better than you?” Harry asked nonchalantly, though his mouth had been hanging open while reading and he did have to wipe away some drool from his jaw.

“There are two types of people in this world,” Neville commented lightly. I looked at his notes and saw he had been drawing leaf diagrams instead of actually taking notes again.

“This should be good,” I laughed, looking at him eagerly.

“Science people, and humanities people,” Neville declared passionately.

“You probably are right about that,” Hermione amended, “But we all need to be working at this to help Hagrid.”

“We know,” Neville and I groaned, going back to our books.

Christmas Morning I awoke to Hermione beaming at me across the Common Room.

“Merry Christmas Maggie!” she greeted.

“Merry Christmas Hermione,” I smiled, “I love that it’s just us four and the Weasleys again.”

“Well, I love that it’s us four and all but one Weasley. That specific Weasley will make me murderous if he keeps up his attitude,” Hermione sighed.

“Let’s not talk about unpleasant things on Christmas,” I grinned, opening my presents. I had gotten a book on Arithmancy from my parents, a diary from my sister (she knew how I hated them after the Chamber, and I was getting really irritated with her attitude. I wrote to her almost every week, for Merlin’s sake,) a miniature model of a dragon (to my amusement, a Hebridean Black) that flew around me and would occasionally cough fire from Harry, a planner from Hermione, an enchanted Sunflower from Neville that sang the days of the week, white chocolate fudge from Ginny, new arrows from Hagrid, and a mega-pack of Filibuster Fireworks from Fred and George. All in all, a good haul.

“Let’s go to the boy’s dormitory, I want to see Neville and Harry,” Hermione suggested when we were both finished, “Also, thank you _so_ much for the Mayan Rune dictionary – I mean, we don’t get to the Mayans before fifth year but it’s still _very_ useful to have and…”

“Don’t mention it, I know why I got it for you,” I laughed, “And thank you for the planner.”

“Anytime, if it can help you get your work done. You seem more swamped than I do, and I’m taking too many classes,” Hermione smiled.

“I’m hoping it’ll lighten up soon,” I scowled, “Come on, the boys are back in town.”

“You are so cheesy sometimes,” Hermione shook her head in amusement as we headed up to the boy’s third year dormitory.

Harry, Neville, and Ron were still in their pajamas. They were standing around Harry’s bed. Harry looked confused, Neville looked apprehensive and Ron looked… in awe.

“What’s going on?” Hermione and I asked. They all jumped in unison and looked at us in shock.

“Look at this,” Harry held up a very fancy looking broomstick that had the words _Firebolt_ on the handle. I remembered vaguely it was the newest model in the Quidditch store in Diagon Alley, and that all the Quidditch obsessees (Harry, Ron, Fred, George, and Ginny really) had freaked out over it for a fairly long time.

“Who… sent you that?” Hermione and I said in almost perfect unison, besides our distinctly different accents, frowning at the broom.

“We have no idea,” Harry frowned.

“Which I’m not too keen on,” Neville interjected.

“Oh come _on –_ “ Ron snapped.

“I’m not, either,” Hermione agreed.

“Neville has the lunatic idea that _Sirius Black_ sent it to him,” Ron shook his head sadly.

“It makes sense,” Hermione furthered.

I nodded, frowning down at it, “I mean… what if he cursed it so it would throw Harry off and kill him? Sorry,” I looked at Harry apologetically, “After first year I’m a wee bit paranoid.”

“It’s the best broom there is,” Ron shook his head, “How could Black afford it? Or get into a shop to buy it?”

“How’d he break out of Azkaban and break into Hogwarts? These questions don’t have answers,” Neville retorted.

“When did Neville get a mouth?” Ron muttered.

“OI!” I shouted.

“Shut it, Johnson.”

“Watch it, or I’ll –“

“Bite me?”

I growled in fury.

“Look, guys, just stop arguing for two bloody seconds,” Harry snapped, “I see what Neville, Hermione, and Maggie are saying… it _is_ very suspicious.”

“Are you bloody kidding me?” Ron sighed, “Harry, it’s the _Firebolt_.”

“And I won’t be able to win the bloody match if I’m _dead_ will I?” Harry retorted. They looked at each other in anger and I felt suddenly very awkward. It was one thing for Hermione and I to hate Ron. It was one thing for Neville to hate Ron, too, though that was less common. Harry and Ron _never_ fought; they were very close as long as the three of us weren’t around for whatever reason. They really bonded, for example, in Divination, since Hermione didn’t talk anyway and thus didn’t bother Ron.

“You’ve got to be reasonable about this – I mean, I think I’d have to sell all my siblings to buy that…”

“Look, this isn’t about _money_ or how much it _costs_ ,” Harry snapped.

“Right, because _you never have to worry about money!_ ” Ron roared.

“Stop _making this_ about money! It’s always that with you! Oh, I’m Ron Weasley, I’m so poor and destitute because my dad follows his dreams and doesn’t give in to Ministry Prejudices! Oh, I’m Ron Weasley and I want to be best mates with Harry Potter but I can’t _stand_ his other friends! Oh, I’m Ron Weasley, I look out for Harry, I’ve got his back, but _Quidditch_ is _clearly_ more important!” Harry snarled.

I looked over at Neville in shock and he just shook his head furiously at me.

“Shut it, Potter,” Ron retorted in a deadly, low voice, “Just. Shut. It.”

There was a long and awkward pause.

“Which is more important, Ron? Whether I’m safe or whether I ride a bloody fancy broomstick?”

“You know what?” Ron hissed, “Forget it. Forget I have an opinion. I don’t matter, do I? I never do. Not at home, not in class, and not with _famous Harry Potter_. Merry bloody Christmas,” and he left the Dormitory in a huff just as Fred and George came down from the fifth year dormitory.

“We thought we heard shouting…” George looked genuinely concerned. They were both still in their pajamas, which for them involved flannel pants and absolutely nothing else. I felt my cheeks burn and I turned away, unable to look at George half naked for longer than two seconds without dying in some way.

“Oh! Girls!” George squeaked when he realized Hermione and I were here.

“It’s _just Hermione and Maggie_ ,” Fred hissed.

“Would you _stop that_?” George snapped in response. I managed to look up and swallowed, trying to only look at George’s face.

“Maggie and Hermione don’t want to be intruded in on by two guys dressed rather rudely,” George continued calmly. His eyes met mine and I looked away again, back at the broomstick.

“What happened?” Fred finally sighed.

“Rowed with Ron,” Harry muttered, sounding downtrodden, and explained the whole situation.

Fred and George frowned, looking down at the broom.

“Well, while we understand why Ron is upset of course,” Fred began.

“We also understand your concern on a mysterious present,” George finished.

“So do what you must, mate, but be careful – if Wood finds out you gave up a _Firebolt_ …” Fred paused.

“I’m not going to give it up,” Harry shook his head, “I’m not _mental_. I’m just going to ask Professor McGonagall to check it out, make sure it’s fine.”

“I think that’s smart,” Hermione nodded firmly.

“Me too,” I agreed.

“Me three,” Neville smiled, but his smile was lacking the enthusiasm I would have thought it would have. He seemed – dare I say it – rather peeved.

“Alright. I’ll get dressed and then go… if you girls don’t mind,” Harry nodded. We left together, past Fred and George, and into the Common Room.

Ron refused to speak to any of us afterwards, and upon seeing that Ginny, Fred, George, _and_ Percy were in Harry’s camp, spent the rest of the Christmas Holidays isolated in the Common Room. Harry took the broom to McGonagall, who insisted she and Flitwick would strip it down and check to make sure it was jinx-free, finishing in a few weeks.

That evening for Christmas Dinner I finally met Professor Trelawney, who kept making fake death threats at Harry and seeming like a complete fraud. I had to leave the Hall early because she was making me sick with her idiocy, and I was _very_ glad I hadn’t decided to take Divination.

As I walked through the corridor back to the Gryffindor Common Room, though, I heard voices in one of the halls. Familiar voices. I paused and snuck towards the corridor calmly.

“ _You’ve got to do it, George_.”

It was Fred.

“Look, it’s _hard_ , alright?”

“She follows you _everywhere_ and you don’t even like her as a _person_.”

“She’s really, really rude… and catty towards… well, people who don’t deserve it.”

“Exaclty! I’m just saying, she’s around you – _us_ – all the time. She drives me _mental_. Couldn’t she just _get the bloody hint_?”

“Evidently, not.”

“Which is why you have to _tell her you’re not interested_.”

“I can’t – she seems really set on me and I’m flattered.”

“The flattering’s gone on long enough! Just _tell her_.”

“Alright, alright! I will after the holidays, alright?”

“ _I’m going to stand over your shoulder and_ make _you._ ”

“ _Okay, Fred!_ ”

There was silence as I tried to digest the information I just heard.

“Can we _finally_ be okay now?” George asked, “We’ve been fighting long enough… almost a year, now.”

“When you give up your crazy, mental idea to date _her_.”

“I can’t –“

“YOU’RE INSANE, GEORGE. INSANE. You _know_ I don’t think it’s a good idea!”

“Well I can’t agree with you!”

“You have so many – imabalances – between the two of you – I think someone is going to get hurt!”

“I would never do that!”

There was another pause. I felt like something was breaking inside of me.

“I’m going to have to get over myself, aren’t I?”

“I won’t ask her out until you approve. You’re still my twin,” George murmured.

“And I don’t want to feel responsible for you being continuously unhappy, like you’ve been ever since you conceived of this inane idea… bullocks. I’m going to have to get over myself, aren’t I?”

“I’d really appreciate it.”

“Fine. Let’s go back to the Feast before all the good food’s gone. And don’t you _dare_ skip.”

I immediately hid in a broom cupboard, waiting until I couldn’t hear their footsteps before breaking down and crying. They didn’t even _want_ me around anymore? They must be sick of me; I _did_ hang around them an _awful_ lot… I didn’t understand, what had I done _wrong_? When had I been catty and rude to anyone but Malfoy?

 _You were rude to their brother… Ron… they’re probably upset about that. Of_ course _they don’t want you around_ , I thought sadly.

And on top of it, George was going to ask out Siobhan.

I sobbed for a very long time in the cupboard before going to bed immediately, not talking to anyone about what had happened and not letting on anything at all the next day. I dreaded the end of the holidays when they would, for lack of a better term, break up with me.

I spent the rest of the holidays researching with the gang, whom I knew I could count on for sticking with me, researching about Hippogriff baiting again. But I was now concerned. I couldn’t afford _any_ time to finish my last Animagus book when I wasn’t supposed to have any work to do. I had to end up splitting off from them, too, for parts of the day, just to finish the last bloody book. My essays for Snape were easier to explain, and I was now on number fifteen.

When I was leaving the library after another late night, I ran into George. I wanted to sink into the floor when I looked up at him.

“Oh… hey, George,” I whispered, “Sorry, I’m exhausted, gotta –“

“Are you avoiding me?”

I looked up at him in shock and shook my head, “No, no I’m not.” I was trying very hard to not burst into tears.

“Oh… it seems like it. Did I upset you?” George furthered.

“No, no you didn’t,” I lied.

“Alright… well I want to talk to you about something… but it can wait till after the holidays I suppose,” George frowned.

“Yeah, I suppose,” I nodded, and rushed away before he changed his mind about friend-dumping me.

The next day I went out with Ginny to go practice shooting. We did this once every couple of weeks, now practicing on enchanted, moving targets. Ginny was a _drastically_ different person than she had been last year – much more confidant, cheerful, and quite frankly, a lot like the twins.

I was aiming at a rapidly moving target, following it carefully with my eyes as it moved through the trees.

“Come on, Maggie, do it!” Ginny teased behind me.

“I’d like to see _you_ make this shot,” I shot back in amusement.

“I’d like to see _you_ make it,” Ginny mocked, “We’re going to end up being out here _all night_ at this rate.”

“Oh shove off,” I laughed before shooting the arrow. It went perfectly into the bulls-eye and I straightened up, grinning cockily at Ginny.

“Wow, were you trying to write a novel while you did that, or what?” Ginny teased, walking up and enchanting a new target, which did move somewhat slower than my last one.

“Hey, who managed to shoot multiple arrows into a basilisk last year? That’s right, me,” I reminded, grinning happily.

“I was unconscious! That’s hardly fair!” Ginny protested, notching and aiming her arrow, staring at her target intensely.

“All _I’m_ hearing right now are excuses,” I chortled. Ginny looked at me and glared for a minute, before grinning cheekily. She then shot the target – perfectly – _without looking_.

“Oh _come on!_ ” I protested.

“Believe it!” Ginny grinned, twirling her bow in her hand and doing a little dance.

“That’s hardly – your target was slower!” I insisted angrily.

“Excuses excuses excuses,” Ginny teased, walking up to me and getting right in my face. I stuck my tongue out at her in amusement, accidentally licking her nose.

“Ewww! Maggie!” Ginny groaned, wiping off her nose and dancing around in disgust.

Did I say accidentally? I was totally trying to annoy her.

I started laughing evily in a corner, pointing at her and giggling hysterically before falling onto the snow in a heap of amusement.

“You’re so gross! Ahh!” Ginny cried out, burying her face in the snow in horror.

“You need to live a little!” I laughed, clutching my stomach in pain.

“You are just trying to annoy the living crap out of me!” Ginny shouted in protest.

“Yup!” I reassured happily.

“You are _unbelievable_!” but she was giggling now, and before I knew what was happening a snowball hit me – _SMACK! –_ right in the face.

I screamed in shock and cold and hastily tried to wipe the snow from my face as Ginny cackled madly.

“I’ll get you for that, Weasley!” and I proceeded to start chasing her through the snow, both of us throwing snowballs happily at each other.

It was good to know I’d always be friends with at least _one_ of those crazy Weasleys.

New Year’s Day I finally finished the last Animagus book. No one understood why, but I went back to the Common Room, ran around it in a circle, and did various cartwheels.

“Maggie –“ Harry began, baffled.

“Why are you…” Hermione was frowning.

“So…” Ginny raised an eyebrow.

“Bloody…” Fred and George said in unison.

“ _Happy_?” Neville finished as I did two backflips in a row before straightening out my clothes.

“Oh, no reason,” I beamed, “Gotta go see Professor McGonagall!” And I skipped down to her office for the first time since she gave me the books. I smashed them down on her desk and beamed.

“Done!” I shouted in triumph. She smiled back, a rare sight for her.

“Excellent, Miss Johnson. I’m impressed – you must have been working very hard.”

“I’ve given up a lot of my extracurricular and social activities to do this, Professor, but it’s worth it,” I beamed.

“Excellent. That’s the kind of dedication I want to see,” Professor McGonagall praised, “Alright. I finished brewing the first potion. You should take it immediately… it’ll prepare your human body for transformation and –“

“Make my internal organs more pliable, I know,” I nodded.

“Good, you learned,” Professor McGonagall beamed, “Here.” It was so strange to see her so happy, but I guess she was rooting for me with this. I took the goblet from her, muttered, “Cheers!” and downed the foul-tasting red potion.

I felt extremely ill and fell to the ground groaning, clutching my stomach and trying to not vomit. It was a horrific feeling and I clenched my eyes together in pain, grunting and gripping the floor, before finally managing to stand up, leaning on a chair.

“You’ll have to take it once every night, I’m afraid,” Professor McGonagall sighed.

“For a month, I know,” I moaned.

“You can do it. I expect to see you tomorrow. You may go, now, but here’s a sweet,” she handed me a lollipop and I nodded in thanks, going back to the Common Room and trying to act cheerful again so people didn’t think I was bipolar.

The next day, after I had taken my potion for the day and felt like my stomach was writhing and trying to free itself from my body, I went and write another Harry essay. Harry was across from me as I wrote it, and I would constantly look up and just consider him.

I finally finished the essay with the paragraph: “ _I wish I would be able to move on with my life after Harry died. Parts of me would be able to, certainly. I would be a functioning human being. But no matter what, part of me wouldn’t be the same. Whether I spent the rest of my life fighting in Harry’s memory, quietly remembering him, or feeling a part of me has gone with him to wherever you go when you die, he will affect my actions long after he is gone, no matter how he goes. I think that’s why this has been so hard for me to write. Harry is a part of me; not only have we grown up together attached at the hip, but we’ve been through so much besides. Adventures in the Forest by our house, most of which were life-threatening; solving mysteries in Hogwarts; taking down Quirrell, confronting the Spiders and Tom Riddle and the Snake, riding on the back of a dragon in the midst of all that, and now living in fear of both Sirius Black_ and _Lord Voldemort. I suppose those kinds of things just don’t allow for emotional detachment._

 _But I wouldn’t have it any other way._ ”

I rolled up the parchment and stood up, kissing Harry on the top of the head as I left, to his bemusement. I went down to the dungeons and handed the essay into Snape.

“Here we go. You’re not going to like it, as always,” I sighed as I sat down in a chair, propped my feet against his desk, and read my Arithmancy book (for real this time, and not my Animagus book in disguise.)

After a while, he tapped me on the high-top trainer. I looked up from my book and raised my eyes, ready for his single word, ”Again.”

“This is finally what I wanted from you,” Snape handed me the essay back, “Good job.”

“Wait… seriously?” I looked at him in shock.

“Yes, seriously,” Snape rolled his eyes, “I wanted it to be universal, which you final got the hang of after essay five; realistic, which you finally got the hang of after essay eleven; and now, honest, which you’re finally being with this essay. The ending especially – before you were trying to fool yourself into thinking that you could move on completely from Potter’s death. The thing you’ve got to understand and accept, Miss Johnson, is that you _won’t_ be the same. You _won’t_ completely move on. When you lose someone you love,” Snape took a deep breath, “They never truly leave you. And you needed to understand that and be prepared to deal with it.”

I paused, frowning, “You speak like you know from experience.”

Snape studied me for a long time, almost sizing me up, before shaking his head.

“Miss Johnson, even _I_ have secrets, you know.”

We looked at each other for two seconds before I burst into laughter and even he began chuckling. He had more secrets than anyone I ever knew.

“Very few people can make me laugh, Miss Johnson. Your mother, is one of the very few,” Snape paused when we had calmed ourselves.

“I consider it an accomplishment. Now what do I do?” I asked him calmly.

“You need to be able to face a boggart without crying,” Snape responded simply, “I’ll try to find one.”

“Alright,” I nodded, “Thank you.”

He nodded at me and I left the office, feeling joyful at finally finishing that endless essay. I reentered the common room and Harry was still there, pouring over another book on magical creature trials.

“How’d it go?” Harry asked when I reentered.

“I’m _finally_ done writing the stupid thing,” I answered calmly, “Now he’s going to train me with a boggart.”

“Excellent!” Harry praised. I smiled back at him and pulled out my Arithmancy book again.

“Maggie?” he asked after a pause.

“Yeah Harry?” I responded calmly, setting down the book.

“Why do you think Black did it?” Harry asked. I frowned at him.

“You mean, betrayed your parents, or turned to the Dark Side?”

“Both, I suppose,” Harry admitted. I frowned even more. I had no idea how to answer this question.

“It’s just – I was looking in my photo album, the one Hagrid gave me with my parents and everything. He’s in a lot of pictures – he really _was_ their best mate, from their Hogwarts years. There’s a picture…” Harry took a deep breath, “Of them, seventh year. Sirius Black is there, and my parents, and they’re all laughing and have their arms around each other. I can’t… I can’t believe he was bad the _entire_ time my dad knew him… so something made him change…”

“Maybe Voldy-Pants threatened his own family; or maybe he had a huge row with your dad and made a mistake,” I offered, “But instantly regretted it…”

“Then why would he be after me?” Harry asked.

“… Still mad?” I offered. Harry smirked and shook his head.

“Maybe _he_ was in love with Lily and didn’t want James to have his happy family… and even now, he doesn’t want the remnant of the fact that _he_ got her running around,” I suggested.

“… That might have some truth to it,” Harry paused.

“What? I was joking with that one,” I gasped.

“Well, you know I can hear screaming when the dementors come… I didn’t tell anyone because I didn’t want to worry you, but I know now… it’s my mum screaming,” Harry explained.

“Oh…” I whispered.

“I’m remember that day, when my parents died,” Harry continued, “Voldemort… told her to get out of the way. He didn’t need to kill her. _That’s_ why her death was a sacrifice; she didn’t _have_ to die. But she did anyway and thus protected me… So maybe Black asked Voldemort to spare her. I mean, Voldemort _hated_ muggle-borns, and my mum was one…”

“It _is_ confusing why Voldy-Pants wanted to spare her… I agree there’s something fishy with that. At any rate, I have no idea why Black turned, Harry, but I can tell you one thing,” I stated firmly.

Harry looked at me calmly.

_You’re destined to defeat Voldy-Pants, so if you turned that would be rather difficult._

“You’re much, _much_ too good to follow in Black’s footsteps.”

Harry smiled weakly in response.

“I love you, Harry,” I stated calmly, “I know I don’t say it, but it’s so implied I feel it isn’t necessary.”

Harry laughed.

“And I think I know you better than you know yourself, sometimes,” I frowned, “I’m sure it’s the same with you towards me… and I know, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that you wouldn’t turn bad. You’ve had enough opportunities already in your life, and you didn’t fall for them… I really don’t think you can. There’s a fundamental goodness in you, Harry Potter. So no matter how much you hate Black and want to kill him, it doesn’t change the fact that, when it comes down to it… I don’t think you’ll be able to shoot to kill. You’ll fight him, you’ll do everything you can to bring him to justice… but you’ll never shoot an arrow into his heart. You can’t. And that’s a strength, not a weakness.”

Harry smiled weakly, “I just feel so _angry_ towards him. I can’t control it… and I don’t fully understand it. It’s such a weird feeling, it doesn’t seem to… _match_ … the other feelings I have.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean… It’s cold, distant, calculating when I actually think about it, but at the same time it’s _distinct_ from my other feelings. Even my hatred of Voldemort… everything else feels warm, that is cold,” Harry clarified.

I frowned, “That’s bizarre.”

“I’m aware,” Harry sighed, “But at the same time, it’s smaller. Like it’s a very small part of me, a part that is easily detached, not really connected to the rest…. To be honest, it feels like it’s connected to Voldemort in some way.”

“You’re kidding,” I paused, “Like with the parseltongue and everything?”

“Yeah,” Harry nodded.

“That is _very_ weird,” I acknowledged, “Well, no matter what, I’ll be by your side, Harry.”

“Really?” Harry smiled slightly.

“Of course,” I stared at him earnestly, “I will always have your back, no matter what. You’re my brother.”

“And you’re my sister,” Harry responded happily, holding my arm tightly.

“I’m practically throwing away my life to help you battle the legions of darkness,” I continued teasingly. Harry frowned.

“I don’t want you to throw away your life –“

“I was mostly kidding,” I paused, “Of course I would fight the legions of darkness on my own. House elf enslavement? Prejudice against muggle-borns? Voldemort? It’s all terrible. I’m sorry, that joke was in poor taste.”

“Eh, it’s okay. Being my sister isn’t easy. I mean yeah, you would be a crusader for justice without me, but you probably wouldn’t have to get knocked down in life-sized wizards chess, get chased by giant spiders, fly on a dragon, or battle a basilisk if it weren’t for me,” Harry agreed.

“And I’m perfectly happy to do _all_ those things,” I agreed happily, “I will _always_ have your back. Even if the coldness takes over.”

“Thanks Maggie. I’m sorry I can’t… describe that better. It’s jut bizarre,” Harry lamented.

“I’m sorry… I’m all white-hot anger, you know that,” I frowned.

“Not _all_ ,” Harry smiled slyly, “To be honest, Maggie, you’re happy most of the time.”

“In a white-hot, passionate type of way.”

“Fair enough,” Harry laughed, “Though… the other day, I saw you crying. What was that about?”

“Oh…” I sighed, “Well… if we’re having a heart to heart here…”

“Yeah, come on now, _your_ turn,” Harry grinned.

“I… have… well, I have a… I sort of…” I stumbled over my words. Even though I knew Hermione knew about it, we had never spoken of it, and I had never said it aloud.

“I sort of like George,” I finally managed to say. Harry’s eyes widened.

“Like… gushy feelings?” Harry grimaced.

“Behold, I _am_ person with sexual and romantic attraction, who knew,” I frowned.

“I’m not going to lie, I am a little surprised,” Harry laughed, “But when I actually think about it, it makes sense… I’m surprised I didn’t see it before.”

“Seriously, with the whole Cedric Diggory thing you should have been like, ‘well, that’s new,’” I laughed.

“I’m oblivious sometimes, you know that,” Harry shook his head.

“It could have been worse – you could have grown up without _any_ female influence at all, and become as big of a prat as Ron,” I suggested. Harry scowled at the mention of Ron’s name and I immediately felt bad.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Harry shook his head, “I am just surprised at how callous he was… Anyway. Why were you crying?”

“I overheard George and Fred talking… I think it was about me. I mean, they were talking about how there’s someone who follows them around all the time, and they were getting annoyed with her, and Fred talked about how it was ‘obvious she fancied George’ and ‘wouldn’t leave George alone’ and stuff… And, well, Fred basically ordered George to tell me to leave them bloody well alone, because even George didn’t like me anymore… I think it’s because of how I treat Ron,” I sniffled a little, trying not to cry, “It’s one thing for him to not like me back, I was a fool to even hope that, but… not even be _friends_ with them anymore? They’re two of my best friends!”

“Do you have any friends who _aren’t_ your best friends?” Harry asked teasingly, obviously trying to cheer me up.

“Oh shut it… so I’m really close to the people around me,” I sighed.

“It’s a good thing, I was just teasing you… and that doesn’t make any sense, Maggie. Maybe George isn’t interested in you and Fred wants him to let you down, but them not wanting you to hang out with them anymore has got to be bullocks. They think you’re awesome, they say so frequently. _They_ chose to hang out with _you_ first year, in case you’ve forgotten; you’ve always fought with Ron, and this time, they _agreed_ with you. So I disagree, they must have been talking about someone else,” Harry shook his head.

“Who, then? I’m the only person who hangs out with them besides Lee, and they were talking about a _girl_ ,” I snapped.

“I don’t know the answer, but I’m convinced it’s not you.”

“I’m not so easily persuaded,” I sighed, “But thank you for trying all the same.”

“At any rate,” Harry reached out and patted me on the arm, “You don’t need them, do you? You’ve got me, as always, and Hermione and Neville and Ginny. Come on, how many Weasleys do you really _need_ ,” he suggested teasingly, making me laugh.

“You’ll always have someone around who loves you, as long as I’m alive,” Harry finally finished, “So don’t worry about two prats who are apparently bipolar.”

“Thanks, Harry,” I smiled.

“Oh, anytime… I also have some news, that I’m rather excited about,” Harry paused.

“Oh? What?” I laughed.

“Lupin’s going to help me with dementors… I asked after the match against Hufflepuff, but I haven’t really found an opportunity to tell you before now,” Harry explained.

“You’re kidding! That’s fantastic!” I grinned.

“Thanks,” Harry laughed, “I hope I can do it.”

“I think you can,” I reassured, “Seriously.”

We smiled at each other and continued to work in comfortable, contented silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think! Thanks!


	22. Chapter Twenty - One: January - Mid February, 1994, Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Gotta get down to it 
> 
> Soldiers are cutting us down
> 
> Should have been done long ago
> 
> What if you knew her 
> 
> And found her dead on the ground
> 
> How can you run when you know?" 
> 
> ~ Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young, "Ohio"

Chapter Twenty-One: January – Mid February, 1994, Hogwarts

The school finally came back; the holidays were over. I was still drinking the potion and every night it felt like someone was twisting my insides into knots and unraveling them in the most painful way possible.

According to Harry, Wood didn’t take the news about his Firebolt well. He didn’t understand how Sirius Black could have sent Harry a broomstick and wanted to talk to McGonagall about her stripping it down, but Harry told him to not bother – he was the one who wanted it stripped in the first place. And, much to Wood’s general happiness, he was to begin dementor-fighting lessons on Thursday. Though, despite his assurances he was up to the task, Lupin still looked ill in Defense Against the Dark Arts the first day of term.

“I wonder what’s wrong with him?” I thought calmly, “He always seems ill.”

“Aunt Melinda never said anything about it,” Harry conferred, also frowning.

Hermione was shaking her head mutely.

“D’you know, Hermione?” Neville asked in curiosity.

“No,” Hermione responded, much too quickly. The three of us frowned at each other as Hermione slowed down behind us, and silently agreed to turn around and demand and explanation – but when we turned, Hermione wasn’t there.

“Well then,” Neville frowned.

“And gents, she’s done it again,” I shook my head sadly.

“Seriously… where does she _go_?” Harry asked in confusion.

“We needed a mystery to solve. This year’s been _much_ too quiet,” I offered. Neville and Harry looked at me in disdain and we all started laughing together.

“Come on, Hermione’s evaded all our questions,” Harry shook his head, “No point in trying again.”

“Having trouble with Granger, Potter?” I heard Ron snap behind us. We all turned around and looked at him – well, I glared at him, Neville’s eyes narrowed, and Harry sighed.

“Why do you care, Weasley?” Harry responded coolly.

“No reason. Just thought it would be rather unfortunate if you lost all your _more considerate_ friends,” and Ron shoved past us and walked thorugh the hallway.

“Well. I think he’s usurped Malfoy for King Prat of Pratsville,” I commented thoughtfully.

“Who knew that Malfoy could be dethroned,” Neville frowned.

“He’ll take back the throne in a great coup, I’m sure,” Harry shook his head.

Thursday evening I went to Snape’s office to practice facing the Harry boggart without crying for the first time.

“We’re not actually trying to destroy the boggart,” Snape began, “That’s for later. Instead, I just want you to be able to face the boggart without crying.”

“Do you expect me to get it right the first time?” I asked calmly.

“No.”

“Then let’s do this,” I braced myself for the inevitable as he opened up the wardrobe across the room and the body of Harry fell out, falling to the ground, a pool of blood on the floor below him. Snape was far enough away that the boggart wasn’t conflicted.

I stared at the body, gripping the back of the chair, repeating Snape’s words (well, he had called Harry ‘Potter’, but the same sentiment) in my head: _It’s not Harry, it’s not Harry, it’s not Harry, it’s not Harry; Harry is fine, Harry is fine, Harry is fine, Harry is fine; Harry’s with Lupin, Harry’s with Lupin, Harry’s with Lupin, Harry’s with…_

His eyes were blank and staring at the sky and I fell to my knees, wanting to approach him, tears finally appearing to my eyes.

“A full five seconds,” Snape drawled, forcing the boggart back into the wardrobe with a wave of his wand, “Compose yourself, Miss Johnson.”

It took me five minutes to finally stand up and stop sniffling and I stared at the wardrobe again. This time, when the boggart came out and Harry remained lifeless on the floor, I lasted for twelve seconds. Then, the next time, twenty-one. Then thirty-five. We continued on throughout the evening until finally I was up to one minute, ten seconds.

“Progress, Miss Johnson,” Snape nodded, “Good, good. Once more.”

He opened the wardrobe again and I braced myself. This time, the body of Harry rolled; it rolled towards me and through the office to Snape.

 _Crack!_ The boggart changed into a different body; the body of a dark-red-haired woman, around the age of twenty or twenty-two. She wasn’t bloody at all, but her mouth was open and she stared up at the ceiling.

“ _Riddikulus!_ ” Snape snapped, looking at me in what could only have been terror. The woman turned into a dark red ball that bounced around the room. Snape laughed in the ball’s face and it disappeared in a whisp of smoke.

I looked at Snape in shock and he looked back at me.

“Professor…” I whispered, “Who was that?”

“Please leave, Miss Johnson,” Snape responded.

“It looked like my mum, Professor… Younger, but…”

“You are excused, Miss Johnson. And it _wasn’t_ your mum,” Snape snapped.

“I’m not going to leave until you tell me who that was!”

“ _No. Now, leave_.”

I stood my ground, folding my arms across my chest.

“If you do not leave my office at once I will give you detention,” Snape sneered.

“Tell. Me.

“A week’s detentions!”

“Now, Professor.”

“Do you _honestly_ think you can get away with this level of insubordination…” but I cut Snape off.

“Professor, that _looked like my mum. I have a **right** to know!_ ”

“It’s not your mum!”

“THEN WHO IS IT?!”

There was a very long pause as we glared at each other.

“Can’t you respect my secrets, Miss Johnson?”

“Can’t you respect that I don’t _understand_ what’s going on, and that this clearly has _something_ to do with my family?”

“Can’t a woman have similarities to your mother without being related to her?”

“Not that similar!” I shouted, “Professor, it’s not like I’m going to _tell anyone_. I just want an _explanation_.”

Snape sneered at me for another long time, “Please go, Miss Johnson. Now.”

“Tell me!”

“A month’s detentions! Now, _leave_.”

I stomped out of the office and slammed the door behind me. Who had that woman been? I rushed up to Harry’s dormitory when I returned to the Common Room, upon seeing that he wasn’t there. There was no one in the dorm and I dug through his things until I found the photo album Hagrid had given him. I flipped open to the section with his parents and their friends, and found her. Harry’s mum.

She looked so much like my mum – the facial features, the eye color, the hair color and style. They could have been twins, except my mother was curvy and Harry’s was skinny. I frowned down at the picture. She was identical to the dead woman on Snape’s office floor.

 _Lily Potter? But_ why _? Mum said that they had fought and stopped being friends…_ _And why would his boggart be her dead when she’s **been** dead for twelve years?_

I slammed the album shut and put it back in Harry’s things and ran down the steps, intending to go back and confront Snape. But at the base of the stairs was Harry.

“Maggie! … What were you doing in my dormitory?” Harry frowned.

“I just… wanted to look up something,” I frowned, “How’d it go with Lupin?”

“Well, we used a boggart – makes me wonder how many the castle can hold. Anyways, the way you get rid of a dementor – that silvery thing that all the teachers cast, and Aunt Melinda and Uncle Nathaniel, it’s called a _patronus_ charm. It conjures a patronus, which is like an anti-dementor, like a shield between you and the dementor. It’s basically… a projection of hope, happiness, and survival instinct. And all patronuses are unique to each person,” Harry explained.

“Huh, I guess that makes sense – I mean, mum’s silvery thing was a killer whale, but Dumbledore’s looked like a large bird –“

“Bet it was a phoenix, like Fawkes…”

“And Lupin’s was some sort of dog thing,” I finished.

“Exactly. You have to think of a really happy thought to conjure it, though. It’s _really_ difficult… Apparently a lot of qualified wizards can’t do it,” Harry sighed.

I grimaced for him, “Did you have trouble?”

“At first,” Harry acknowledged, “The memories I was picking weren’t good enough… You know, when we went to Hogwarts for the first time, and when we won the House Cup first year. And I… I heard my dad yelling at Voldemort, you know, from that night…”

“Oh Harry,” I murmured.

“Apparently, Lupin and my dad were friends. He seemed very struck that I had heard Dad,” Harry frowned, “But then… Well, I picked the memory from the other night… when we were talking, and how you told me you didn’t think I could ever betray anyone or turn bad.”

“And?” I raised an eyebrow.

“It stopped the dementor for a little while,” Harry beamed, “Lupin put it back in the case, but I stopped it for a while, and Lupin was very pleased.”

“That’s great Harry!” I beamed, “So I guess concentrate on happy memories based on people, not… I dunno, winning House Cups and coming to magical schools?”

“Yeah,” Harry laughed, “How’d your boggart thing with Snape go?”

“Oh… alright. I got up to a minute and ten seconds without crying,” I offered.

“Brilliant!” Harry patted me on the shoulder, “Alright, well I’m going to get some sleep. I’m nackered after that.”

“Me too,” I nodded, “See you tomorrow.”

Harry was swamped from that moment on, much like I had been the last term. He had Quidditch practices five nights a week, Dementor fighting the sixth, and thus just one night per week to do homework. My nights, compared to last term, were miraculously free – I wasn’t reading endless Animagus books, just drinking a frightful potion; and I didn’t have to write an endless essay… in fact, Snape didn’t call me to his office for a long time after our session, probably to avoid my questions. My detentions weren’t even with him, they were with Filch, cleaning bedpans without magic in the Hospital Wing and making me want to vomit. Hermione seemed more stressed than ever, even with Neville and me helping her with the court cases for Buckbeak so she could concentrate on her schoolwork. Granted, Harry should have been the one to help her, but he was so swamped it would have been cruel to pile that on.

When the month of Animagus potion hell had finally passed, I made and then took another potion under McGonagall’s watchful eye – one that was a lot more palpable. At the same time, I had to stick a certain type of leaf underneath my tongue – all the time – for a month.

“The purpose of this one – keep stirring – is to help your body find the animal that it most connects to, the one that it will settle on when we begin the wandwork. Fortunately, this one doesn’t taste or feel _nearly_ as bad as the last one… in fact, it tastes rather like pumpkin pasties… or it does for me. It tastes different for everyone,” Professor McGongall explained as I added more lacewing flies to the potion, “Unfortunately, you have to take it for half a year before we can continue. The leaf will help focus the potion – they need to work together for the first month – don’t worry, it’s relatively easy to hide from other people.”

“Brilliant,” I muttered sadly, “And then… how long does the wandwork take again? Sorry, it’s been a while since I finished the first book and I didn’t look over my notes.”

“Two years usually. A year and a half if you’re good. A year if you’re brilliant,” Professor McGonagall offered.

“And I’m inexperienced, so I guess it’ll be five,” I grumbled.

“But you’re doing this under my tutelage, so I would give you more credit than that,” McGonagall rolled her eyes, “Alright, take the potion, now.”

It tasted an awful lot like spicy food to me – like something from India. But I could swallow it, and it made my insides feel nice and warm. I decided immediately I didn’t mind that this would take six months exactly. The leaf had no taste at all – it practically dissolved, clinging to the surface of the inside of my lower jaw, molding with it. When I tried talking, it didn’t move at all – easily concealed.

Soon after this, Professor McGonagall gave Harry back his Firebolt, much to all of our joy – it wasn’t cursed. Ron still didn’t talk to Harry, but Wood looked very relieved and hopeful even. The twins, Hermione, Neville, Wood, Ginny and I all went out to the Quidditch Pitch with Harry immediately after he got it back, Madam Hooch standing guard and gushing over the broom in technical language that went straight over my head.

“Alright, here goes nothing,” Harry nodded to all of us as he mounted the broom.

“Go Harry!” Hermione, Ginny and I cheered. Hermione and Ginny both instantly colored and I rolled my eyes.

Harry kicked off from the ground and he zoomed off, going so fast he was a blur against the sky. None of us could help cheering now as he moved too fast to be seen, lapping around the Pitch in a blur of red and gold so many times I got dizzy, before landing before all of us again.

“Alright… who wants a turn?” Harry laughed. The Weasleys and Wood all stepped forward eagerly, but Neville, Hermione and I stayed back to congratulate Harry and watch the joyous Quidditch Buffs on our own.

When we got back to the Common Room, Ron was standing there, looking at all of us in fury.

“GRANGER!” he roared. We all stopped in our tracks in shock.

“What?” Hermione responded calmly.

“LOOK AT THIS!” He held up a sheet, on which there was a small splatter of blood.

“So…” Hermione frowned.

“SCABBERS IS GONE! THERE’S BLOOD ON MY SHEET AND SCABBERS IS GONE! AND,” Ron held up a handful of long, ginger cat hairs, “I FOUND THESE ON THE FLOOR!”

Hermione’s eyes widened, “Have you looked _everywhere_ for Scabbers?”

“I HAVE BLOODY WELL LOOKED EVERYWHERE, GRANGER! YOUR BLOODY CAT ATE MY RAT!” Ron roared.

“Ron, calm _down_ ,” Fred ordered sternly.

“You _hated_ that rat,” George agreed.

“SHE DIDN’T TAKE THE FACT THAT HER BLOODY CAT WANTED TO EAT MY PET SERIOUSLY!” Ron shouted.

“It’s a cat! Cat’s eat rats!” Ginny shook her head.

“SCABBERS DIDN’T DO _ANYTHING_ TO THAT CAT AND THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS TO HIM!” Ron roared.

“Exactly – Scabbers didn’t do _anything_ ,” Harry sighed.

“I’m really sorry, Ron. Seriously,” Hermione said, using Ron’s first name, a rare occasion.

“It won’t bring back my rat, will it?” Ron snapped, picking up the sheet and stomping back to his room. We all looked at each other in stony silence.

“We’ll talk to him, Hermione,” Fred offered.

“Since when do I really care about what Ronald thinks of me?” Hermione rolled her eyes, “I’d rather… well, I’d rather he and Harry made up, to be honest.”

“Not likely,” Ginny rolled her eyes.

“He was very inconsiderate, Hermione. It’s going to take some time for me to be able to forgive him, though I want to eventually,” Harry explained.

Everyone began mulling about and going to bed. Fred and George shared a look and Fred went up to the boy’s dormitory as I set down my book bag and considered doing some extra reading on the history of Animagi. At that moment, Lavender, Parvati, and Siobhan came into the Gryffindor Common room, talking and giggling.

“Oh, I can’t believe Professor Trelawney predicted that, Siobhan,” Parvati sighed in a dreamy way. George was standing on the base of the boy’s staircase and was watching the three girls come in with a frown.

“I know! That’s _so_ lucky,” Lavender agreed, “He’s _so_ dreamy.”

I looked over at George again and saw, to my bemusement, he was scowling.

_Why are you scowling, if you want to date her?_

Siobhan finally noticed George, as did the other two, and they all began giggling again. I wanted to rip out their perfectly styled hair.

“Well we’ll be in the dormitory, Siobhan,” Parvati stated calmly.

“See you soon,” Lavender winked and those two went up to the dormitory. I buried my nose in my book and read about the various types of Animagi, trying to block out the sound I was about to hear.

“Hey, Siobhan? Could I talk to you?” George asked.

 _Mammalian animagi tend to have a strong connection to humanity and human society, kinder, and matronly. Meanwhile, reptilian (including avian) animagi tend to be rebellious, contrary, and freer. Fish and frog animagi are rare, and tend to be odd, recluse, and introverted. Invertebrate animagi, on the whole, are the rarest of all – and they tend to be sneaky, proud, manipulative, and ambitious,_ I read, gluing my eyes forcefully to the page _._

“Oh of course, George!” Siobhan simpered.

 _Carnivorous and predatory animagi tend to be angrier and more violent in their human temperament; scavenger animagi tend to also be sneaky and crafty. Herbivorous animagi tend to be docile, calm, and collected; though certain groups (rhinos, for example) are also prone to anger. Omnivorous animagi tend to be resourceful and creative. Typically, the temperament of the animal matches the temperament of the human,_ I forced myself to continue to read, pressing my nose up against the binding of the book _._

“Alright… can we go somewhere more private?” George requested.

 _Though often described as being especially rare, extinct and magical animagi actually have higher numbers in many countries – while European countries typically stick to nonmagical, extant animals, animagi from other countries have these groups equally represented. In fact, many animagi in extinct category have influenced research on the evolution of life_ , I read, grateful to find the material interesting as I tried to make myself invisible in my chair.

“Oh, I think here’s as good as anywhere. Only _Maggie’s_ here,” Siobhan laughed. I felt like clawing out her eyes. I looked at my knuckles and my grip on the book was so tight they were turning white. I couldn’t read anymore, now that she had mentioned my name.

“… _This_ is the problem.”

“What?”

“That’s the problem, Siobhan. You drive me crazy.”

“… In a good way?”

“No,” George stated. I looked up covertly and saw he was scowling deeper now and Siobhan looked shocked.

“What are you talking about, George?”

“Siobhan, you have absolutely no respect for Maggie, and she’s one of my best mates. Futhermore, you bash her all the time; her and her friends. You’ve even bashed Fred a couple of times. You’re just very mean and rude to everyone and everything. Furthermore, I think I’ve dropped the hint _more_ than a couple of times that I am _not interested in you_.”

“ _WHAT?!_ ”

“I didn’t want to be rude,” George sighed, “But you’ve just been pushing my buttons, Siobhan. You don’t get the hint that I don’t really want to spend time with you, and that I’m not interested in you romantically, and yet you keep on pushing in with me, touching me and making me feel uncomfortable. I do _not_ want you to touch me, alright? And then you force me to have this conversation with you in front of my friend, who is probably very uncomfortable right now. So, since _you_ can’t stop yourself from being rude, I’m not going to bother either.”

“I… I…”

“I’m sorry you’re upset, I’m sorry I’ve made you cry. But that’s the truth. We could never be more than friends and I don’t even know if we can be that. Now please, stop bothering me,” George scowled even more, “You seriously don’t ever leave me alone.”

Siobhan let out a wail and I saw her rush up into the girl’s dormitory, her long black hair flying through the air behind her. George turned to me with a heavy sigh.

“That wasn’t very nice,” I said nonchalantly, setting down my book. But the joy that had filled me at that exchange was so complete that I didn’t find myself caring he hadn’t been nice to her.

“ _She_ isn’t very nice,” George groaned, sitting across from me, “My God, Maggie, you should have _heard_ the things she was saying about you. Every other conversation was her bashing you and me trying to explain that I didn’t… Well, that you have a lot of good qualities, too.”

“Why did you even hang out with her in the first place?” I asked with a small laugh. I was just so _relieved_.

“She pulled a prank on a Slytherin in our year and Fred thought she was clever, so we hung out with her a couple of times. This was in your first year. But we figured out that _you_ would be a better successor so we, in essence, ditched her. She would still try and hang out with us last year, of course, and we put up with her, but she _always_ bashed you, and sometimes Harry and Hermione and Neville too, which drove us mental. And then this year she wouldn’t leave me _alone at all_ , though I didn’t really notice she was doing so until you pointed it out. Thank you for that, I might have led her on for even longer,” George grimaced.

“Well, thank you for defending my honor,” I laughed.

George chuckled, and then frowned, “You seem better.”

“Yeah,” I shrugged.

“What was wrong, before? You barely even acknowledged me and Fred and, well, we had a great prank idea,” George sighed.

“Well… to be honest,” I sighed, “I overheard you two talking in the hallway, at Christmas. I guess Fred was telling you to… well, do what you just did to Siobhan. Except, I didn’t hear you name names, and what with you and Fred arguing all the time when I was around… I figured you were going to ditch _me_.”

“Oh!” George’s eyes widened, “But – I don’t hate you, surely you know that…”

“I was being silly,” I shrugged.

“No you weren’t – Merlin, I’m sorry. Out of context it probably sounded like we were talking about you… but of _course_ neither Fred _nor_ I hate you. I-ahhhh, _we_ think you’re awesome. Seriously, we would never think so negatively about you… and besides that, if we wanted you to leave us alone, we would tell you together, in a much gentler fashion,” George laughed.

I laughed weakly, “Alright.”

“But that would never happen. Seriously, Maggie,” George paused, “Um… how much else did you hear of that conversation?”

“Um… why?” I asked.

“Oh Merlin… you heard the ending, didn’t you,” George groaned. He looked exceedingly embarrassed.

“I’m sure she’s a lucky person, whomever she is,” I laughed.

George frowned at me, “You don’t… know who she is?”

“You didn’t say her name,” I shrugged, “Course I don’t.”

George studied me for a long time, frowning, “Maggie, for being one of the most deducing and perceptive people I know, you can be really oblivious.”

I raised an eyebrow, “Care to clarify your backhanded insult, George?”

George sighed, “Maybe later… I’m exhausted. I’ve had an emotionally trying day.”

I laughed, “Alright, talk to you later George.”

“Bye, Maggie,” George murmured, going up to his dormitory. I read my book with a very large smile on my face. Who cared who he liked? He didn’t want to not be my friend anymore and that was enough for a lifetime.

A few days later it was the Ravenclaw Gryffindor game, the biggest game of the year, really. Gryffindor _had_ to win, or else the Cup was an impossibility.

Harry carried down the Firebolt to the Gryffindor Table and set it among the team, Hermione, Neville, and I beaming next to him. Harry looked determined and excited at the same time as everyone came by to compliment him on his broomstick. Ginny just found herself touching the bristles of the broom, unable to help it. Truth be told, _all_ the members of the Gryffindor Team in addition to Ginny seemed to be worshipping the thing.

“Sure you can manage that broom, Potter?” Malfoy asked, suddenly appearing. His voice was cold and calculating.

“Yeah, reckon so,” Harry answered calmly.

“Got plenty of special features, hasn’t it?” Malfoy continued, “Shame it doesn’t come with a parachute – in case you get too near a dementor.” Crabbe and Goyle behind him sniggered.

“Pity you can’t attach an extra arm to yours, Malfoy,” Harry retorted, “Then it could catch the Snitch for you.”

The Gryffindor table roared with laughter and Malfoy stalked away. The Team left to the pitch and Neville, Hermione, Ginny and I went up to the stands eagerly, holding up a banner for Harry that said “HARRY’S ON FIRE”. The Ravenclaw team walked out onto the field – almost entirely boys, except for the seeker, who was a short, petite Asian girl from Scotland by the name of Cho Chang. She was fairly pretty, with light brown eyes and long eyelashes, though I didn’t know her well enough to have admired her features more than that. The Captains shook hands, and the teams took off into the air.

“And they’re off! The big excitement this match is that Harry Potter is sporting the new Firebolt for Gryffindor. According to _Which Broomstick_ , the Firebolt’s going to be the broom of choice for the Qudditch World Cup this year…”

“Jordan, please just tell us what’s going on in the match,” Professor McGonagall sighed.

“Right you are, Professor – just giving some background. The Firebolt, incidentally, has a built-in auto-brake and –“

“Jordan!”

“Okay, okay. Gryffindor in possession, Katie Bell of Gryffindor heading for goal.”

I watched the ongoing action keenly, keeping my eyes peeled in the distance for dementors, but none seemed to be coming. The weather was beautiful for February – cold, but sunny, with frost on the ground, but no snow, and a very _very_ light wind. I had never been more hopeful.

“Gryffindor leads by eight points to zero, and look at that Firebolt go! Potter’s really putting it through its paces now, see it turn – Chang’s Comet is just no match for it, the Firebolt’s precision-balance is really noticeable in these long –“

“JORDAN, ARE YOU BEING PAID TO ADVERTISE FIREBOLTS? COMMENT FOR MERLIN’S SAKE!” Professor McGonagall shouted.

Ravenclaw scored some so that Gryffindor was only leading by fifty points; Harry dived and we all held our breath. But Cho Chang ran in front of him and he stopped short.

 _What is he doing? Just knock the chick off her broom!_ I thought in frustration. Neville, Hermione and Ginny were all frowning too. Wood was shouting at Harry and he pulled past Chang, diving towards the ground as she followed him. But just at the last second he pulled out of the dive, and she kept diving by default. He then accelerated towards the other end of the field.

I looked down and saw three black, hooded dementors on the ground, heading towards the stands. But it was strange – I didn’t feel cold; no fog had come over us, and to be honest, they didn’t glide like dementors; they seemed to be touching the ground.

Harry, however, had pulled out his wand and shouted so that everyone could hear in the stands, “ _EXPECTO PATRONUM!_ ” A large silvery object, enormous, shaped like some sort of deer or a stag or something, galloped towards the three dementors. They stumbled on the ground but Harry wasn’t paying attention, he zoomed forward to the end of the pitch and grabbed hold of the snitch.

We all burst into cheers, but the dementors on the ground were clearly not dementors – in fact, the cloaks had fallen off and I saw a flash of blonde hair that was disgustingly familiar.

We four ran down from the stands onto the field cheering, running up to Harry. The Team was cheering and hugging Harry tightly. I looked in shock to see Ron had followed us.

I ran up to Harry. He looked at me with mutual understanding, we both ran and leapt in the air in unison and high-fived in mid jump as high as we could, landing on the ground opposite each other.

“Brilliant job, mate!” Neville cheered, giving Harry a guy-hug. Hermione rushed forward and hugged him too, kissing him on the cheek again. Harry’s cheeks flushed and Neville and I exchanged knowing glances. Ginny was beaming and Ron stepped forward awkwardly.

“I’m sorry, Harry. I should have thought more about your safety,” Ron sighed.

Harry smiled slightly, “You know what, Ron? I understand too. It’s a really awesome broom and it would have been horrible if I had to give it away completely… I accept your apology.”

Ron grinned awkwardly and Hermione, Neville and I looked at each other and fake-gagged behind his back.

“Did you see me take down those dementors?” Harry asked me eagerly after Ron had gone back to join Seamus and Dean.

“Well… they weren’t really dementors, but that was some patronus,” the voice of Professor Lupin sounded behind us. We all spun around to see him walking towards us.

“What was it then?” Harry asked, puzzled.

“Misters Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, and Flint I believe. They’ll all be getting detention and fifty points have been taken from Slytherin for their trick, however,” Lupin’s eyes were twinkling.

“Fantastic,” Harry laughed, “Just what they deserve.”

“We’ll be pranking them later,” I hissed in George’s ear, who had just come up to walk beside me. He nodded with a grin.

“Oh, Miss Johnson – Professor Snape has asked me to inform you that I will be continuing your boggart lessons now, as he feels I would be better suited to the rest of the task,” Lupin finished. I was shocked by this news, though somewhere in the back of my mind I felt relief.

“You all enjoy yourselves, now,” Lupin nodded and left to the other professors.

“Alright gents, Party in the Gryffindor Tower! Come on!” Fred cheered.

The party went on for an obscene amount of time. Fred, George and I snuck out to the kitchens and brought back enough food for an army, and then headed to the Three Broomsticks and got enough Butterbeer for everyone to have thirds.

“No Butterbeer for you,” George scolded when I grabbed a mug and downed it on the spot.

“Wait, you _don’t_ want Maggie to release her inhibitions?” Fred teased. George scowled but I was laughing.

A lot of people had gone to bed by the time it was just the four of us, the Team, and the remainder of the Weasleys all in the Common Room, still drinking Butterbeer and dancing around to the music on the wireless from the muggle stations. I even on occasion found myself dancing – goofily, in a big group, but still – next to Angelina Johnson.

 _Why are you so gorgeous_ , I thought to myself sadly. George was on the other side of me and I felt like I was in some sort of insanely attractive people sandwich.

Ginny had had quite a few butterbeers, and while she had a much higher tolerance of alcohol than I did (maybe being pure-British gave you some sort of super power,) she was still cutting loose, dancing happily with Neville. I couldn’t help it, I was confused as they bumped hips, he spun her around, and they giggled together insessently.

 _Does Neville like Ginny_? I thought to myself in confusion while Harry and I started dancing and spinning each other around. A strange feeling came up through my stomach and into my throat at the idea, and I didn’t like this feeling one bit. Honestly, it was the worst feeling I had ever had. Soon enough, though, they stopped, and the feeling was miraculously gone.

Alicia and Katie were dancing with each other, and I found the sight intriguing, as it was less like me and Harry dancing and more like – well, like a couple would dance with each other. They were both fairly drunk and giggling uncontrollably, though, so I chose to ignore it, or at the very least not care.

A rock song started playing on the radio, and Hermione and I both decided to take this opportunity to jump up and down like maniacs, our feet hopping on the floor in unison. She then graced us with the most wonderful gift that had ever been given to humanity – she flung her hair back and forth in a headbang, wild curls flying all over the place.

“Go Hermione!” Fred cheered happily, clapping and watching in amazement.

“That was bloody brilliant!” Harry agreed as Hermione stopped and caught her breath, grinning at everyone who was clapping for her, her cheeks flushed with joy.

I found that I wasn’t half bad at dancing to hip hop songs, enjoying myself and swaying to the beat. Ginny also wasn’t bad, and we did a fairly impromptu dance together that was well formed, bouncing back and forth together eagerly. Angelina, Katie and Alicia also joined us, significantly better than us, but all of us laughing and encouraging each other happily.

At one point, George grabed my hand and we danced together, not touching each other, but still near each other. My heart felt like it was pounding in my ears and I flushed in amazement as George grinned at me. At that moment, Fred was dancing with Hermione, which was equally surprising, but Hermione appeared to be enjoying herself. I was too flustered in George’s close, dancing presence to really make sustained eye contact with him.

Eventually, Professor McGonagall came in and told us all to go to bed, and we did so calmly. Hermione was beaming at me as we went to sleep at last. However, at some point in the night I heard a shrill, loud scream. Everyone woke up in the dormitory and we rushed downstairs, the scream having come from the boy’s dormitory.

Downstairs, Harry, Ron, Neville – all the third year Gryffindor Boys were awake and talking in serious voices. People were protesting the noise and I walked up to Harry in concern.

“What’s going on, Harry?” I asked calmly, trying to not feel exposed in my tank top and short shorts. Hermione, who was wearing long pants and a sweatshirt, looked much more at ease than I did at the newly begun pajama party.

“Ron reckoned he… well…” Harry was frowning.

“I swear, I saw him!” Ron insisted.

“We believe you,” Neville murmured.

“Who?” Hermione and I asked in unison as Fred shouted over the crowd, “Excellent, are we carrying on then?”

“Everyone back upstairs!” Percy Weasley shouted sharply, “Now, everyone!”

“Perce!” Ron shouted, “Sirius Black! He was in our dormitory! With a knife! He woke me up!”

I turned on my heel and looked at Ron with shocked, terrified eyes. I immediately reached out and gripped Harry’s arm in a death grip.

“Nonsense!” Percy responded, looking startled, “You had too much to eat, to drink, Ron – had a nightmare –“

“I’m telling you!”

“Now, enough’s enough!”

Professor McGonagall had reentered the tower and slammed the portrait behind her.

“I am delighted that Gryffindor won the match, but this is getting ridiculous! Percy, I expected better of you!”

“I certainly didn’t authorize this, Professor!” Percy responded, “I was just telling them all to get back to bed! My brother Ron here had a nightmare…”

“IT WASN’T A NIGHTMARE!” Ron roared, “PROFESSOR, I WOKE UP, AND SIRIUS BLACK WAS STANDING OVER ME, HOLDING A KNIFE!”

“Don’t’ be ridiculous, Weasley, how could he possibly have gotten through the portrait hole?” Professor McGonagall demanded.

“Ask him!” Ron pointed a shaking finger at the back of Sir Cadogan’s portrait, “Ask him if he saw…”

Professor McGonagall swept to the outside and asked the portrait calmly, “Sir Cadogan, did you just let a man enter Gryffindor Tower?”

“Certainly, good lady!” Sir Cadogan responded.

Everyone began murmuring in shock at the response.

“You – you _did_?” Professor McGonagall gasped, “But – but the password!”

“He had ‘em!” Cadogan responded, “Had the whole week’s my lady! Read ‘em off a little piece of paper!”

 _Oh no_.

Neville had a terrible memory, and had taken to writing Cadogan’s inane passwords on pieces of paper. I looked around for him wildly and found him in the back of room, wearing fluffy slippers. I moved to the back of the room in a flash to get to him.

“Which person,” Professor McGonagall hissed, her face white as chalk, “Which abysmally foolish person wrote down this week’s passwords and left hem lying around?”

I hadn’t gotten to Neville by the time he raised his shaking hand in the air, but I managed to afterwards, holding onto his arm and looking at him in horror.

We stayed up the rest of the night in the Common Room as the castle was searched again. I sat with Neville and Harry, looking at the pair of them in concern.

“Neville – don’t beat yourself up too much about it –“ I whispered.

“If Black had found the right bed, Harry would be _dead_ right now,” Neville responded, looking horrified with himself.

“It was an honest mistake –“

“Stop making excuses for me!” Neville groaned, “I made a horrific mistake!”

“It’s okay, Neville, really,” Harry reassured, “Just try to calm down.”

“I can’t! I almost _killed_ you!” Neville moaned, burying his face in his hands. I wrapped my arms around him and rubbed his back reassuringly. Hermione walked over to us and sat at Neville’s feet on the ground.

“Neville, stop punishing yourself. No one’s mad at you. Well, _we_ aren’t, at any rate,” Hermione murmured.

“Even Ron isn’t,” Harry offered.

“Just the Professors,” Neville muttered, “Cause _they’re_ in their right minds.”

“Neville, you made an honest mistake. _Everyone_ does,” I murmured, “How many stupid things have _I_ done with dire consequences? Remember first year? I inadvertently caused you to get beaten up! But I didn’t mean to. This isn’t nearly as bad – no one’s hurt and now they’re making the castle safer than ever.”

Neville sobbed into his hands and I kept rubbing his back in reassurance.

Over the next few days, security tightened in the extreme. Portraits were trained to recognize Black, cracks and passages were boarded up by Filch, and Sir Cadagon was fired, the Fat Lady reinstated with the lovely extra protection of trolls.

Ron was an instant celebrity and through this, his relationship with Harry was fully repaired. Ron’s story, however, became more and more farfetched every time he told it, and eventually it was almost completely distorted and I had no patience for it.

In the meantime, Neville was in total disgrace. He was banned from all future Hogsmeade visits, given detention, and no one was allowed to give him the password to get into the tower. However, I didn’t like the last one at all, and I always hissed it into his ear in the morning when no one was paying attention, much to his eternal thanks. I honestly don’t think I’d ever been hugged that much.

Hagrid’s case approached rapidly and we read endless numbers of books in the library on top of our other work. Hermione looked so stressed, as though she was about to die. But at the same time, we three managed to calm her down at regular intervals. Fred and George would even come by regularly to bring her hot chocolate, Fred talking to her while George would crack open case books and read with us.

“Four dunderheads are better than three,” he explained the first time he did this, looking at me and shrugging.

“Hermione, it’s going to be alright, alright? Look, you need to start cutting down on your workload,” Fred was murmuring quietly to Hermione in a corner, her crying but nodding through her tears.

“This is insane. If this were about plants I’d have finished five times as many books,” Neville groaned, looking at the legalease with terror.

“Just keep chugging away at it, Neville,” Harry reassured, “We have too.”

“This is for Buckbeak,” I agreed, “And for the systems of oppression that have led to this moment.”

“Systems of oppression?” George asked curiously, looking up from a book at me and frowning.

“Well, Hagrid was expelled – so there’s oppression against those who don’t go to Hogwarts. Hagrid also isn’t white, and doesn’t seem to be upper class – oppression against people of color and the lower classes is rampant in our society. I’d bet my skirt that he’s not pureblood, as well, so that’s obvious. And then he doesn’t have the influence in the Ministry over his case – I’d bet you anything that Malfoy is pulling puppet strings to get Buckbeak convicted,” I explained scathingly.

“Merlin, you’re right,” George groaned, running a hand through his hair.

Fred was still murmuring to Hermione in a corner in reassurance. Harry looked over at them with an expression of confusion, before turning back and trying to read his book.

“I mean look at this one tome,” I pointed to the law book I was reading, “In here there are _thirty different laws_ on liscencing and care of magical creatures – that depend on money! Alone! The _fees_ Hagrid would have had to pay if Dumbledore wasn’t on his side just to take care of _one_ hippogriff!”

“And look here,” George agreed eagerly, scooting his chair closer to mine and pointing to a paragraph in his book, “You need to have at least _five years_ of care of magical creatures training to take care of the class of magical beasts Buckbeak is in – Hagrid can’t have that, he was expelled in his third year –“

“I’m sure Dumbledore trained him in magical beast care after he was expelled, so he could be gamekeeper,” I reasoned, “But seriously!”

“And I mean see this?” I continued, pointing to another paragraph in my own book, “Look! You have to have an estate to have certain types of creatures – a bona-fide _estate_.”

“Merlin!” George groaned. His face was very close to mine and, upon realizing that, I felt my breath catch in my throat. He looked at me and I felt my cheeks color rapidly before looking back hurriedly to the books.

“The number of fees Hagrid will have to pay if Buckbeak gets executed is terrible, too,” Neville commented from his corner of the table, his voice sounding disgruntled. I looked at him questioningly, trying to catch my composure back.

“The law says that he has to pay for the execution fee, body removal fee, and for a lot of beauracracy related shite!” Neville explained, looking angry.

“Bloody hell,” Harry groaned, “This is mental.”

“Dumbledore will help him, thank God,” I sighed.

Hermione walked back over to the table then, Fred patting her on the shoulder comfortingly. She wiped off her eyes, nodded at us, and we all buried our faces in books again.

Soon after that, we went down to Hagrid’s to give him everything we knew about the case. The twins simply gave us their notes, busy planning pranks on Malfoy in retaliation for the ordeal Hagrid was about to go through. We explained everything we could to Hagrid in the simplest detail possible, but Hagrid looked nervous and frazzled – I was worried he wouldn’t have the composure to defend Buckbeak on the stand.

“One of us should go with you,” I finally concluded when Hermione had finished explaining her carefully crafted defense, “Obviously, it should be Hermione, but I’m up for other suggestions.”

“Yeh can’,” Hagrid shook his head, “Yeh’ll get into trouble. I don’ wan’ any more o’ that.”

“Well _we_ don’t want Buckbeak to be sentenced to death because Malfoy is a prat,” Harry spat.

Hagrid smiled a watery smile, “Thank yeh, _all_ of yeh, but I have ter do this one alone.”

“You can do this, Hagrid,” Hermione reassured, putting her hands on Hagrid’s arms and looking into his eyes desperately, “Just remember. If the law is followed, Buckbeak should be set free.”

Hagrid nodded, though he was crying more now. I was so angry I smashed the cup of tea I was drinking in my hand.

“Maggie!” Neville shouted in shock. Hermione cleaned the mess with her wand and Harry grabbed me a towel, wrapping my now-bleeding hand up in it.

“You really need to work on your anger issues,” he commented lightly. Hagrid was fretting about this, now, which just made me feel guilty – he had enough on his plate as it was.

“Would you believe me if I said I was?” I offered as I reassured Hagrid I was okay.

“Maybe?” Harry questioned, looking torn as to whether or not he did.

After we left Hagrid’s Hut, we came up to the Gryffindor Tower and saw that another Hogsmeade weekend was announced.

“Well,” Neville sighed, “They’ll be looking to make sure I’m not there, so I probably shouldn’t sneak out with you guys.”

“You know, I don’t really think it’s safe for _any_ of you to sneak out to Hogsmeade,” Hermione shook her head sadly, “What with Black sneaking into the Tower – into Harry’s _dorm_ – and all. Really, you shouldn’t go…”

“She has a point,” Harry sighed, “But then _you’ll_ be all alone, Hermione.”

“It’s sad to say, but I have so much work I don’t really think I have time to go to Hogsmeade,” Hermione was frowning and she buried her face in her hands as we all looked at her in concern.

“I took on too much,” she sobbed, “I can’t _do_ all this anymore!”

“You’re really stressed, Hermione,” I soothed, “Come on, I’ll sneak down to the kitchens and get you some hot chocolate. Maybe you should drop some subjects?”

“Like what? Arithmancy and Ancient Runes are my favorite classes!” Hermione sniffled.

“Like, Muggle Studies?” I suggested with an eye roll, “I mean come _on_ Hermione, you _live with muggles_. I understand if it’s fascinating to study them from the wizarding point of view, but seriously…”

“Maybe I could drop that one…” Hermione sniffled.

“And to be honest, Divination seems loony,” Neville interjected. Since the password incident, his voice had been permanently meek, like it had been prior to our trying to rescue the philosopher’s stone. I felt horrified that his confidence had just been destroyed like that. McGonagall had been too harsh on him.

“I… I…” Hermione looked thoughtful, however, and I knew she was considering it.

“Oh great, you’re going to leave me alone with Ron,” Harry teased.

“Harry, you know perfectly well that if I wasn’t in Divination with you it would go a lot smoother,” Hermione rolled her eyes.

“At any rate, we’ll all just not go to Hogsmeade, alright? You can do your work and the rest of us can get ahead. It’ll be fine,” I suggested.

“Thanks guys,” Neville murmured gratefully.

“Oh stop acting like the world’s ended,” I scowled, “No one’s hurt and no one’s mad at you, alright? You’re still Neville, the awesome kid who stabbed a basilisk with a sword last year,” I leaned over and hissed in his ear, “ _the heir of Godric Gryffindor_.”

Neville flushed red and looked down at his shoes.

“Really Neville, stop beating yourself up, it makes the rest of us sad,” Harry chuckled.

So that Saturday we all sat in the Common Room, reading our books. I had just gotten back from a boggart lesson with Lupin, which had been much more pleasant and kind than the lessons with Snape. Though I would always be confused about Snape’s boggart and the meaning behind it all, I did enjoy having Lupin comfort me in between tries, and talk to me about my friendships and relationships with the people who were fake-dead on the floor.

Midway through the evening, an owl began tapping on the window to the Common Room – Hedwig, Harry’s snowy owl. He got up to the window and opened it, letting Hedwig in. Attached to her leg was a letter and he opened it. His eyes scanned the paper quickly and his jaw immediately dropped open in shock.

“Guys… Guys, this is from Hagrid,” Harry gasped. We all looked up in shock and braced ourselves.

“He lost the case… Buckbeak is going to be executed!” Harry shoved the letter at us and we all read it together in horror, the handwriting shaky and smudged with tears.

” _Dear Harry, Maggie, Hermione, and Neville,_

 _We lost. I’m allowed to bring him back to Hogwarts. Execution date to be fixed… Beaky enjoyed London. Thank you for all the help you gave us, really._ ”

“NO!” I screamed, stamping my foot, “They can’t _do_ this! After all the evidence we gave in Buckbeak’s defense!”

“And he’s not even dangerous!” Harry snarled.

“They can’t – this is _wrong_!” Neville gasped.

Hermione was crying and she just looked shocked.

“You _know_ Malfoy frightened the committee into it,” she sobbed, “He’s such a Neanderthal… and the committee is just a bunch of old sycophants. I can’t believe this… There’ll be an appeal, though, there always is… but I can’t see any hope…”

“We’ll keep looking,” I reassured, “Get some others on the case. We’re _not_ giving up, Hermione.”

“We’ll tear apart the library,” Harry nodded, “And Hermione – don’t bear the burden by yourself. You have enough going on.”

Hermione threw herself on us in a hug and sobbed. But I was determined, simply determined, to save Buckbeak’s life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think!


	23. Chapter Twenty-Two: February – June 9, 1994, Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "This time you should take me away
> 
> We stop at nothing at all 
> 
> Take a chance now, right now
> 
> Cause now I'm losing control
> 
> I'm ready to go
> 
> This time
> 
> You should take me away
> 
> To a new place
> 
> Where it does mind
> 
> Keep night on the sky
> 
> This time." 
> 
> ~ DJ Antoine, "This Time"

Chapter Twenty-Two: February – June 9, 1994, Hogwarts

We could, unfortunately, only _really_ talk to Hagrid during Care of Magical Creatures class, thanks to the safety measures imposed post Black’s second break in. Hagrid seemed numb with shock due to the verdict when we approached him at our first class that we had a chance to talk to him (when the weather was warming up and spring was approaching), breaking my heart a little.

“S’all my fault,” Hagrid sighed, “Got… got tongue-tied, you see, kept droppin’ me notes all over, forgettin’ the dates you got me Hermione or the facts you got me Maggie or the evidence against Malfoy’s character Harry or the evidence for Buckbeak’s character, Neville… an’ Lucius Malfoy said his bit, and the Committee jus’ did exac’ly what he told ‘em…”

“There’s the appeal,” I snarled, “We’ll get him off.”

Malfoy was laughing in the distance and I felt my fists clench reflexively.

“S’no good, Maggie,” Hagrid sighed, walking us to the castle steps after class, “That Committee’s in Lucius Malfoy’s pocket. I’m jus’ gonna make sure the rest o’ Beaky’s time is the happiest he’s ever had. I owe him that…”

Hagrid then hurried back to his Hut, crying into a handkerchief. I felt like I could just _kill_ Malfoy.

“Look at him blubber!” Malfoy laughed when he was gone, Crabbe and Goyle chortling behind him.

“Hae you ever seen anything quite as pathetic?” Malfoy continued, “And he’s supposed to be our teacher!”

I stepped forward, ready to murder him, fire entering me again and reaching up to my throat and mouth, when I saw a blur of bushy light brown hair flash past me – Hermione was in front of Draco and, suddenly, _SMACK!_ She had slapped Malfoy with all the strength her tiny body could muster, which was an amazingly surprising amount – Malfoy fell to the ground, his cheek bright red.

“Don’t you _dare call Hagrid pathetic!_ You foul – you evil -!”

“Hermione!” Harry gasped, pulling her back towards us.

“Oh get _off_ , Harry!” Hermione snapped.

She pulled out her wand and Malfoy stepped back in terror. I did the same, nodding at Hermione.

“Now, Malfoy, would you like us to hex your face into a puddle, or leave you hanging upside down until your face is the color of a beet?” I suggested cheerfully.

Malfoy’s eyes widened and he sprinted off to the dungeons nearby, Crabbe and Goyle following him in shock. I grinned at Hermione happily.

“You, miss, are my flipping hero!” I cheered, raising my hand to high five her, which she happily took. We went up to Charms class, and were unfortunately late as Professor Flitwick greeted us.

“Potter, Johnson, Longbottom, you are late. Please take your seats, we will be dividing into pairs…” Professor Flitwick ordered.

“Wait – where’s Hermione?” I frowned, spinning around and looking for her.

“That’s bizarre,” Harry frowned with me, “She was just here!”

“Well this isn’t good,” Neville sighed, “We lost her again… _and_ there’s three of us and we each need a partner for this…”

“I’ll partner with Harry, if he wants,” Ron offered next to us.

Harry looked at me and frowned, opening his mouth in protest, as the two of us usually partnered and Hermione and Neville would partner.

“Don’t worry about it,” I smiled, “Neville’s awesome too.”

Harry laughed and we split off into two pairs. I pulled out my wand.

“Alright, Neville, I suck at Charms, so…” But Neville had a strange look on his face.

“What is it?” I raised an eyebrow.

“Oh, just… you… never mind,” Neville shook his head, and we practiced the spell on each other without another word on the subject. We left the class grinning broadly and headed up to the library to study up on Buckbeak’s appeal some more, when we ran into Hermione, fast asleep, her head on the Arithmancy book.

“Wh – What?” Hermione gasped as Harry poked her awake, “Is it time to go? What do we have now?”

“Divination,” Harry paused.

“Or, you know, Ancient Runes, which you seem to be able to be in at the same time,” I rolled my eyes.

“But not for a while,” Harry continued, “Why didn’t you come to Charms?”

“What? Oh _no!_ ” Hermione gasped, “I forgot! I forgot to go to Charms!”

“But how’d you forget? We were all going up together,” I frowned.

“I don’t believe it!” Hermione wailed, “Was Professor Flitwick angry – it was all Malfoy, I was distracted because I was so _angry_ about it –“

“You’re taking too much, Hermione how many times do we have to tell you?” I raised my eyebrows and shook my head sadly.

“Drop Muggle Studies and Divination, seriously,” Neville shook his head.

“I will _not_ be personally offended if you drop out of Divination, Hermione,” Harry rolled his eyes.

Hermione’s eyes met mine and I saw immediately what she was trying to say – that, since Ron never talked to her in Divination, it was the only class she was alone with Harry in.

_Ah. You sly little minx._

“Look guys… I’d better go see Professor Flitwick. I’ll see you all later,” she got up and left in a rush when my expression showed my understanding and Harry looked at me inquisitively.

“Why is it she won’t drop out of Divination?” Harry asked when she had left the room.

“It’s complicated, Harry. Girl stuff,” I answered shortly. Neville, who had opened his mouth to help me, immediately closed it when he realized the escape route I was taking. Harry, who hadn’t seen Neville, was still skeptical.

I went off to Ancient Runes and Hermione rushed into the room, slamming her books on the desk. I looked at her inquisitively as we opened our Egyptian Rune books and took out our essays translating the Book of the Dead.

“This has been a simply brilliant day,” Hermione snapped.

“What happened now? Have you somehow been to Divination before it even started?” I commented airily.

“Yes,” Hermione snapped, “And don’t ask how, I’m not in the mood.”

“Fair enough. What happened in Divination?”

“I quit,” she stated firmly.

“Good for you!” I raised my arm in the air in happiness for her, much to Ernie Macmillan’s amusement near us. She rolled her eyes.

“In all seriousness, though, what brought about the change of heart?” I asked curiously.

“Professor Trelawney was a _troll_. She had us all looking into crystal balls and such, and she saw the Grim in Harry’s for the _umpteenth_ time, and I criticized her for it, because I am just _not_ in the mood today –“

“Bad period cramps?” I hissed in her ear quietly.

“Oh, maybe just a little,” Hermione scowled sarcastically, “Not like _you_ don’t go around _biting_ people when you have cramps-“

“Let’s stop this topic right here, it’s a good place to stop. Continue your tale of woe,” I offered.

“Anywho, she then bashed me for the millionth time and how I don’t have the right mindset, how I’m mundane and all the rest of it, and so I just packed up and left. I mean… there’s only _so much_ abuse I can take before I go mental,” Hermione shook her head.

“She sounds like a right foul woman. I probably would have killed her,” I suggested, have jokingly.

“Maggie, you _would have_. Seriously,” Hermione sighed.

“I’m sorry you won’t get alone time with Harry now, though,” I frowned apologetically.

Hermione let out another long, heavy sigh.

“I’m sorry about that, too. But… well, he still isn’t ready for me, is he?” Hermione was frowning sadly.

“What d’you mean?”

“Didn’t you see? At the Ravenclaw match?” Hermione looked inexplicably sad. Resigned, as if she knew what had made her sad was inevitable, but sad.

“No…”

“Maggie, you can be really thick sometimes, you know that right?”

“You’re just on a role with the pleasing people thing today.”

“Sorry – it’s just half the time you’re brilliant and clever, and I consider myself a fair judge of that –“

“Thank you so much, that really was a compliment,” I raised my eyebrows.

“But the other half of the time you don’t see _anything_. And usually it’s about people and how they feel – no wonder you only have a handful of close friends and everyone else either hates you or is terrified of you – and usually, Harry’s the _one_ person you understand… but I guess you didn’t see it this time,” Hermione frowned.

“I disagree with that statement,” Ernie interjected, “Sorry to interrupt – I couldn’t help but overhear. I don’t hate _nor_ fear Maggie, I’m ambivalent.”

“Sweet – see folks? We have ambivalence!” I raised my arms in the air in a cheering victory pose and Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Fine, the _bulk_ of the school. Anyways, I’m sure you’ll see it soon enough,” Hermione sighed.

Professor Babbling walked in then, apologizing for being late, and we quickly began translating the new passage for the day.

The Easter Holidays came, and we were all completely swamped. The amount of Arithmancy homework we had been assigned was astounding – we had to numerically analyze, using _geometric methods_ and _trigonometry_ , the significance of fifteen different historical events of the past century that we would pick ourselves. Neville seemed like he was going to cry the entire time he, Hermione, and I sat down to do this assignment together. Harry, meanwhile, studied his copy of _Unfogging the Future_ without enthusiasm; drool dribbling down his chin as he fell asleep on top of the book.

Hermione, though done with Divination, was still constantly stressed with work. She never stopped studying and she had bags under her eyes. Since Harry had less work than the three of us, he took over research for Buckbeak’s appeal, as I had almost stabbed my charms book with my potions knife one evening and Neville had sworn, at the top of his lungs in the middle of the Common Room one evening,

“ _I NEVER WANT TO DO ALGEBRA AGAIN GODDAMMIT!_ ”

No one, in living memory, had heard Neville swear before, and as such the entire Common Room stared at him in complete shock.

I pulled Neville aside from everyone, leading him through the corridors to an empty portion of the corridor. He was still panting with anger and frustration, his brow furrowed in fury, looking down at me in confusion.

“Neville, calm down,” I urged calmly. Neville gritted his teeth and slid down against the wall to sit on the floor.

“I just… I’m having so much _trouble,_ Maggie. I understand the concepts just fine – but memorizing all these formulas!” Neville groaned, “It’s my worst nightmare. Why can’t I just look up formulas while I do the problems? I do just fine then!”

“I know,” I reassured soothingly, gently patting his shoulder, “I know. You can do it, though. What type of plant squirts rotten pus when provoked, and is a type of magical cactus?”

“Mibulus mimbletonia,” Neville answered immediately.

“What plant resembles a slug and, when squished, yields thick yellow pus?” I continued.

“Bobotuber,” Neville continud, his breathing visibly slowing.

“What small plant grows on the gound, with small leaves on the stems, that can halt the growth of animals?”

“Knotgrass,” Neville looked at me and then back at his hands, moving his fingers somewhat.

“What plant from the Mediterranean sea can cause a person to grow gills?” I reached up to his shoulder and massaged it.

“Gillyweed,” Neville smiled slightly at me, looking significantly calmer.

“Alright, which plant has leaves that shine like copper, and were once used as currency?” I squeezed his shoulder now, beaming at him happily.

“Niffler’s fancy,” Neville laughed.

“Feeling better?” I asked cheerfully.

Neville nodded furiously, “Much. Thanks, Maggie.”

“Of course,” I stood up and helped him do the same, patting him on the arm.

“You always know how to help me out,” Neville praised, giving me a huge bear-hug that sent me into fits of laughter.

“Anytime,” I laughed into his shoulder, “Now let me down!”

Neville grinned and we walked back to the Common Room. Soon after he started studying Arthimancy he grew frustrated again, but less so than before. At the very least, he didn’t swear.

 So Harry poured over many thick books on Hippogriff nature and behavior, his glasses eschew on his face from leaning his cheek onto his hand while reading. At the same time, he had Quidditch practice every day.

None of us got very much sleep.

However, I managed to find a spare moment to confer with Fred and George. With Hermione on the edge of a complete mental breakdown, I decided we all needed a laugh.

“We prank Malfoy,” I ordered when I came upon them in the library – they had O.W.L.s coming up and were actually _studying_. I literally had thought the universe had imploded when I found this out.

“Tonight,” I finished when they both looked up.

They studied each other for a moment before nodding.

“We’re not going to get an O.W.L. in anything but Charms, Transfiguration and Defense Against the Dark Arts anyway,” George beamed.

“Three subjects for N.E.W.T.s seems about right,” Fred laughed.

“Besides – here’s a little secret Maggie,” George waved me forward. I knelt beside their table and looked up at him calmly.

“We’ve decided what we’re doing with our lives,” George whispered.

“What?” I answered in an equally quiet voice.

“We’re going to run a joke shop!” Fred finished, beaming.

“Guys, that’s _brilliant_ ,” I gasped, “You’ll be _amazing_ at that. I bet you’ll come up with great ideas.”

“You really believe in us?” Fred whispered.

“Of course!” I nodded.

George looked sincerely touched, “We haven’t told anyone else yet.”

“Really? No one?” I was genuinely surprised.

“Nope – but now that we know you believe in us…” George paused, his face an odd shade of red.

“What my twin means to say is,” Fred sighed, “That gave us a real confidence boost, thank you.”

“Oh no problem,” I grinned.

“We have Lee to help us with the things we aren’t good at – he took Arithmancy and he’s actually going to pass his Potions O.W.L. We plan on telling him next. And, _obviously_ , when you leave Hogwarts, if you need a job and the business is going well…” George’s voice trailed off into the air.

“Mostly what I want to do after Hogwarts is… transfigure stuff. But I love that I have the option,” I grinned, “That’s so awesome.”

“So we shall prank Malfoy tonight – I do believe we should try out our new invention, Georgie and Maggie,” Fred beamed.

“New invention, Freddie and Georgie?” I joked.

“Indeed,” George nodded, “Maggie, Freddie and I have come up with this magical thing – the Traveling Stand-Up.”

“Oh?”

“Well, you know how Muggles have those Stand-Up cardboard posters of actors, musicians, you know, people they idolize?” Fred continued.

“Yeah,” I nodded, “Saw ‘em in London.”

“Well, we’ve acquired one – of Malfoy’s favorite person in the universe,” Fred laughed.

“He says acquired – we developed one,” George rolled his eyes, “Using a photo and some magic.”

“Oh? Of Dumbledore?”

“No.”

“Hermione?”

“We should have, but no.”

“Harry?”

“Bingo!” George grinned, “And basically, this cardboard cutout will, on its own steam, follow Malfoy everywhere he goes. Most of the time it will remain hidden – but at opportune moments it will appear. But if anyone other than us tries to touch it, it will disappear and reappear somewhere else.”

“We spent a long time developing this. We’re surprised Ginny hasn’t told you – she was the guinea pig,” Fred laughed.

“Haven’t had much time to talk to her,” I admitted grimly, “Lot’s of work for Arithmancy.”

“But it works perfectly – she tried to grab the Harry cut out and shove it at us when we laughed hysterically at her, but it just vanished and reappeared in our dorm,” Fred grinned.

“So basically, Malfoy will be constantly paranoid, feeling like someone’s following him. He’ll be scared witless when Harry randomly appears, feel stupid when he sees it’s not actually Harry, and be unable to get rid of him… for a while,” George sighed.

“After a week the spells wore off and Ginny knocked me off my broom with it,” Fred lamented.

“Worth it,” George chuckled.

“Alright,” I laughed, “Let’s do it. Hermione has to be able to see, though. She needs some cheering up.”

The poster of Harry was ginormous – life sized, and actually rather realistic looking. Dinner in the Great Hall was about to end and I told Hermione to wait down in the dungeons for the show.

“Just point your wand at it and say _Follow Malfoy_. We’ll follow too, just to see the incidental squealing,” George explained.

I waved my wand and muttered the words and the poster immediately began following Malfoy directly behind him. Luckily, no one else was around to show Malfoy this fact. Every time he turned around, the poster zoomed rapidly and hid behind a statue, a suit of armor, or some other obstructing object. Malfoy would frown in puzzlement and continue walking.

Eventually, Malfoy turned into the empty chamber that lead to the Slytherin Common Room, and let out a shout.

“POTTER, I’LL TELL PROFESSOR – wait…” Malfoy frowned now. Hermione, who was standing next to us in the opposite dungeon, controlled her giggling behind her hand as Malfoy circled the statue, frowning at it, and tried to grab it. It disappeared in a puff of smoke and Malfoy’s eyes widened. We all hid behind the wall before he noticed us and the three of us pranksters high–fived each other joyfully.

“This will provide endless amusement throughout an entire week,” I bowed to Hermione and she laughed, shaking her head.

“Honestly, this will drive Malfoy mental. I couldn’t be more pleased.”

And mental it did drive Malfoy. At many occasions throughout the day screams could be heard, and since it wasn’t during term, none of the Professors seemed to care to stop it – not even Snape, who didn’t leave his office much. At the end of the week, when the poster was gone, Malfoy was constantly twitchy, jumping around and looking wildly for a Potter poster, flinching when he opened doors, and glaring at every passing person, even Crabbe and Goyle.

My sense of success was palpable.

The first Saturday after the holidays finally ended was the Quidditch Final against Slytherin, so I took over the Buckbeak case, as Hermione was still near-death and Neville was still pronouncing his hatred for all mathematical calculations. Harry had constant practices. I was very discouraged, however; I didn’t know what else we could add to the appeal to help Buckbeak. Harry wanted to, in Buckbeak’s honor, defeat Malfoy in the worst way possible.

Tensions between the houses were horrific that first week of term, and fights between Slytherins and Gryffindors broke out all over the castle. At one point, Pansy Parkinson and I found ourselves in the corridor outside the dungeon before potions, pulling at each other’s hair. I didn’t even know what had instigated it, but I had bit her on the hand when she tried to slap me (if I had a reputation, I might as well live up to it) and she pulled on my ponytail violently, jerking me back into a suit of armor. I ran forward and smashed her into the wall, pulling at her manicured short hair, remembering how fake and thin it had felt when I had been her for an hour. After a long time tussling and being caught in a death grip, Professor Snape pried us apart and took twenty five points from each of us, the first interaction I had directly had with him since the boggart incident.

Meanwhile, people kept trying to sabotage Harry, leading to me, Neville, and Hermione acting as Harry’s bodyguard for a lot of the time; Seamus, Dean and Ron filling in for Divination; and Gryffindors just in general congregating around him to make sure he wasn’t hurt.

The night before the match, the Common Room’s tension could be felt in the bones. I had just taken the Animagus potion for the night and still felt warm inside, but I knew when the potion wore off I would be just as tense as the rest of them. None of us could study, we were too nervous. Fred and George were sending an army of follow-posters on innocent unsuspecting first years. Wood was studying a model of a Quidditch field, prodding figures over the field with his wand and muttering to himself. The figure for Harry was adorable and I wanted to keep it for my own evil purposes, but Wood protested and said ‘he couldn’t do that to his star seeker, he had a heart after all.’ Angelina, Alicia, and Katie were laughing at the parade of follow-posters, which now included Professor Snape, Professor Dumbledore, Percy Weasley, and the Minister of Magic.

“We thought about doing Sirius Black,” George explained, “But we felt that might be a line that shouldn’t be crossed.”

Harry was simply staring at the fire as I sat next to him, trying to distract him from his terror. Neville and Hermione, who were terrified as well and hadn’t taken a warm soul-searching Animagus potion, weren’t helping. Eventually, Harry was ordered to bed.

“You’ll be fine, Harry,” I reassured, patting him on the arm, “Seriously.”

“You can do this,” Hermione beamed.

“You’re brilliant, you’ve just got to believe in yourself,” Neville nodded.

“Thanks guys,” Harry nodded, walking up to the dorm with shaky legs. Fred and George stopped by us before going upstairs.

“Wish us luck, gents,” Fred nodded.

“It’ll be hard,” George sighed.

“But still, it’s good to know we’ve got a support system out there,” Fred finished.

“You’ll be great, guys,” Neville nodded.

“Seriously – you’re an unstoppable team,” Hermione agreed.

I felt brave. I stood up and walked to George, who was at least a foot taller than me. He looked down at me in shock as I leaned up and kissed him on the cheek.

“You’ll be great, guys,” I murmured in embarrassment, “Seriously.”

“Thanks Maggie,” Fred smiled, but in a very weird way – almost in a reluctant, but understanding, way. George was flushed bright red but smiled too, saying nothing, leaving behind Fred up to the Common Room.

“Alright, bed?” Hermione suggested. We said our goodnights and went to sleep, but for some reason Neville wouldn’t actually look me in the eye.

At the Great Hall that morning, everyone began cheering when the Team walked down to the Gryffindor table. Well, everyone except the Slytherins. As they sat down and began eating quickly, I heard a Scottish voice (well, I had a Scottish accent and so did Harry, but it was still distinctive for me to hear one other than us) call out behind me, “Good luck, Harry!”

Harry’s face flushed bright red and I turned around. The Ravenclaw seeker, Cho Chang, was waving at him from their table.

I looked at Harry with wide eyes and he buried his face in his food. Hermione looked at me sadly when he couldn’t see and I instantly knew what she had somehow knew at the Ravenclaw match – Harry had a crush on Cho Chang.

Neville looked sad for Hermione too and I frowned. Cho Chang? Really? Hermione shook her head to tell us to not bother Harry about it, but I felt like coming to her defense. She glared at me when she could see I hadn’t relented and so I did, sighing. She looked so downtrodden at this turn of events it broke my heart.

We headed to the stands and found Ginny in the crowd, standing in our usual spot with our new banner that read, “RIDE THAT BOLT, LIGHTNING BOLT!” You know, in reference to his scar. Yes, it was cheesy, but Dean had drawn a lion eating a snake that animated and it was worth it.

The brooms rose in the air, and I felt like I needed twenty Butterbeers to calm down. Luckily, I had thought ahead, and I passed covered mugs around to my four other companions (Dean had joined us, as Ron and Seamus apparently made “a lot of very rude comments during Quidditch matches… and I’m talking sailor language.”), even Ginny, who was so tiny I worried it would affect her enough to notify her brothers.

“And it’s Gryffindor in possession, Alicia Spinnet of Gryffindor with the Quaffle, heading straight for the Slytherin goalposts, looking good, Alicia! Argh, no – Quaffle intercepted by Warrington, Warrington of Slytherin tearing up the field – WHAM! Nice Bludger work there by George Weasley, Warrington drops the Quaffle, it’s caught by – Johnson, Gryffindor back in possession, come on, Angelina – nice swerve around Montague – _duck, Angelina, that’s a Bludger!_ – SHE SCORES! TEN – ZERO TO GRYFFINDOR!”

Angelina punched the air with her fist and I found myself screaming my approval.

“OUCH!”

Her scream could be heard at the Gryffindor end and she was nearly thrown from her broom by Marcus Flint. I booed along with the crowd as Gryffindor was awarded a penalty, and so was Slytherin due to Fred smashing a bludger into Flint.

“Come on, Alicia!” Lee yelled, “YES! SHE’S BEATEN THE KEEPER! TWENTY – ZERO TO GRYFFINDOR!”

Flint flew towards the Gryffindor goal posts and we all watched with bated breath.

“Course, Wood’s a superb Keeper! Superb! Very difficult to pass – very difficult indeed – YES! I DON’T BELIEVE IT! HE’S SAVED IT!”

We all began cheering again and I released my tense grip on the back of the chair in front of me.

“Gryffindor in possession, no, Slytherin in possession – no! – Gryffindor back in possession and it’s Katie Bell, Katie Bell for Gryffindor with the Quaffle, shes streaking up the field – THAT WAS DELIBERATE!”

Montague had swerved in front of Katie and grabbed her head rather than the Quaffle.

Madam Hooch’s whistle rang and Katie got another penalty shot, making Gryffindor thirty to zero. Harry couldn’t catch the snitch, however, until we were more than fifty points up, so that we could win the cup.

“THIRTY – ZERO, TAKE THAT, YOU DIRTY CHEATING –“

“Jordan, if you can’t commentate in an unbiased way –!”

“I’m telling it like it is, Professor!”

I shouted at the top of my lungs across the field, “YOU KNOW HE CAN’T DO THAT PROFESSOR!” For some reason, my voice could be heard above the crowd, which instantly burst into laughter on the Gryffindor side and boos on the Slytherin – perhaps this was a sign my animal form would be very, very loud, since at this point I would be starting to show some traits of it. At any rate, it killed my vocal chords and I decided I needed hot chocolate or tea or something soothing.

In the meantime, Harry had distracted Malfoy and made him think he had seen the snitch, and had managed to make using his extremely fast broomstick the two Slytherin beaters run into each other.

“Ha haa!” Lee laughed, “Too bad, boys! You’ll need to get up earlier than that to beat a Firebolt! And it’s Gryffindor in possession again, as Johnson takes the Quaffle – Flint alongside her – poke him in the eye, Angelina! – it was a joke, Professor, it was a joke – oh no – Flint in possession, Flint flying toward the Gryffindor goalposts, come on now, Wood, save –!”

But Slytherin scored, causing many many boos and Professor McGonagall trying to take the magical megaphone from Lee as he swore like a sailor.

“Sorry Professor, sorry! Won’t happen again! So, Gryffindor in the lead, thirty points to ten, and Gryffindor in possession –“

It was a very very violent game. I felt myself bite my fingernails constantly, Hermione was pulling at her hair, and Neville had begun pacing in the stands. Ginny was constantly jumping up and down, Dean was screaming at the top of his lungs, and the swears we heard from Seamus and Ron behind us were so dirty I felt myself blush (and I had a strong stomach for swears, thanks.) People were hitting each other with beater clubs and knocking each other off of brooms, and Harry continuously faked out Malfoy for the snitch on top of it.

Gryffindor was leading now, Fifty-ten, with Fred and George protecting Harry like bodyguards. However, because of this, the Slytherin beaters attacked Wood with the bludgers. Hooch was outraged.

“YOU DO NOT ATTACK THE KEEPER UNLESS THE QUAFFLE IS WITHIN THE SCORING AREA!” Hooch screeched, giving Gryffindor another penalty shot. Soon after that, we were up seventy ten. It was time for Harry to do his thing. I found myself screaming “COME ON HARRY! KICK SOME ASS! YOU DIDN’T FACE VOLDEMORT TWICE, GIANT SPIDERS, RIDE A DRAGON, AND KILL A BASILISK FOR NOTHING! KICK ASS! SHOW THOSE BITCHES WHAT POTTERS ARE MADE OF!”

“Ride a dragon?” Dean asked next to me in a very hoarse voice.

“Long story,” I answered calmly.

Malfoy, however, had grabbed onto Harry’s broom tail to slow him down from catching the Snitch, and Gryffindor got another Penalty while I found myself screaming horrifically bad curse words at Malfoy.

“ _Maggie!_ ” Neville gasped in outrage.

“BUT HE _IS_ A C-“

“Please, don’t grace us with that again,” Hermione sighed.

“YOU CHEATING SCUM!” Lee Jordan was yelling, dancing out of Professor McGonagall’s reach, “YOU FILTHY, CHEATING BASTARD!”

Professor McGonagall was even shaking her finger at Malfoy.

The penalty was missed and the Slytherins gained momentum, scoring again. Harry and Malfoy were neck in neck, practically throwing each other off their brooms.

Angelina had the Quaffle and was heading to the Slytherin posts, but the team was surrounding them and she’d never get through. Harry dove forward, however, so quickly that he scattered them all in terror, leaving Angelina free to score.

“GRYFFINDOR LEADS EIGHTY TO TWENTY! GO HARRY!” Lee screamed, “GO ANGELINA!”

But Malfoy was chasing the snitch and I was insulting Harry for the first time, screaming at him to get his scrawny ass down to the Snitch. Harry spotted it; he was zooming forward, the Firebolt was much faster than Malfoy’s puny broom, he was speeding down, down, down – and he caught the snitch.

It was as if a bomb exploded in the stands, everyone was cheering so much.

Hermione, Neville, and I dropped everything and sprinted down from the stands, running faster than any of us had run in our lives, and we were all pretty accustomed to running at this point. I felt like I was flying as I ran through the field and threw myself at Harry, giving him the biggest hug we had ever shared. Hermione and Neville followed in my footsteps as everyone began crowding around, cheering and crying. Hagrid was shouting in happiness, Percy was jumping up and down like a manic, Professor McGonagall and Wood were sobbing uncontrollably, and the three of us hoisted Harry onto our shoulders and began carrying him up to the castle, somehow more coordinated than ever before.

Fred and George prodded me in the shoulder the moment we had finished the long Gryffindor procession to the common room and I beamed at them, throwing my arms around them.

“YOU GUYS WERE BRILLIANT!” I sobbed.

Fred and George looked alarmed at my emotional outburst.

“Alright, alright,” Fred laughed, “We know, no need to cry.”

“Sorry, I just have a lot of feelings,” I laughed, making fun of myself.

“To the Three Broomsticks! We sold enough Follow-Posters to buy enough Butterbeer for months,” George beamed. We went down to the Three Broomsticks and brought back kegs of the stuff, then headed to the kitchens and got enough food for the entire population of America. We reentered the Common Room, and everyone screamed and cheered at the arrival of the party supplies. Everyone began dancing around to the muggle hip hop music. Hermione and Harry were dancing together, to my amusement; Harry was spinning Hermione around and she was laughing hysterically, both awkward but kind of adorable. Neville was grinning next to me and downing Butterbeer.

“Oi! Johnson!” George shouted as midnight came and went and people were flat out drunk with all the Butterbeer at this point.

“Yeah Weasley?” I shouted back. He came up to me, not drunk but still tipsy, and handed me a pile of green things – a bouquet of tiger lilies.

“Asked Granger, she said these were your favorite,” George explained, “Went down to Hogsmeade again, when you weren’t paying attention – talking to Longbottom or something – and got ‘em.”

“What for?” I laughed, but my heart had started pounding in my ears.

“Well, to be honest, my confidence has been boosted through the roof after this – and, well, I’ve decided to finally ask this,” George declared.

“What?” I demanded again.

“D’you want to go on a date with me?” George asked, his face flushed red, “When exams are over, of course. I know you want to do well.”

I felt my own face flush red and I stammered, “Y-Yes, yes I’d love to, George.”

“BRILLIANT!” George cheered, raising his arms in the air and doing a backflip. I laughed, hugging the flowers to my chest, feeling my face flush red and even more joy rush through me. I didn’t think I could possibly _be_ any happier than this.

“That was probably much too long in coming. I should have asked you out in September,” George finally explained when he returned from his display of euphoria.

“Oh?” I raised my eyebrows.

“Yeah. Fred thought it was a terrible idea and would break up our friendship, and then I thought you hated me, but you just hated Siobhan – anyways, all water under the bridge now,” George shrugged.

I laughed and beamed at him widely, turning to find my friends. I thought I had seen Neville by the boy’s staircase, but he wasn’t there now. At any rate, I ran up to Harry and Hermione.

“ _Guys_ , guess what?” I gasped.

“What?” they asked in unison, still dancing together. Harry had spun Hermione out the length of his arm and pulled her back to him, making Hermione’s cheeks flush brilliant red.

“George just asked me out! And I said yes!” I beamed.

“Wait, what?!” Harry gasped in shock.

“That’s great, Maggie!” Hermione cheered, but there was something in her voice – something sad, like she couldn’t be entirely happy for me. I chose to ignore it. If she had something to say, she should say it.

“I can’t believe it. It’s going to take me a very long time to get used to this,” Harry shook his head, “Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy for you, but –“

“I’m your sister and it’s weird for you?” I laughed.

“I’m going to have to obligatorily tell him I’ll beat him up if he mistreats you. Well, magically beat him up. I think I’m too scrawny to manage it manually,” Harry grinned.

“Fair enough,” I beamed.

The night went on for a very long time – in fact, we all stayed up all night, except for a few people including Neville, who I still couldn’t find anywhere. George and I spent a long time dancing together in silly ways, my face flushed with happiness and Butterbeer.

But, like George had allotted for in the timing of the fateful date, the celebration had to end. Exams were approaching with the arrival of June soon after the match and I found myself studying constantly. Though Transfiguration and Herbology were, as always, in the bag, everything else was important to prepare for. Care of Magical Creatures had joined the easy train, and I wasn’t too worried about Defense Against the Dark Arts. Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, and Potions I had to study a lot for. Charms and History of Magic made me want to cry, and Astronomy was a joke as always.

Hermione was excessively stressed, and her exam schedule looked completely screwed up when I read it. Many of her exams were scheduled for the same time and I just stared at the piece of paper in confusion.

“Hermione, when are you planning on sleeping?” I asked calmly.

“I’ll find the time,” Hermione frowned.

“I don’t see how,” Neville muttered under his breath. He had been very distant with me since the match and I had no idea why. It made me very sad indeed and I wanted to confront him about it, but with his extreme stress due to Arithmancy I decided it would be kinder to wait until after exams.

Harry came running up to our maths study group then, waving a piece of paper over his head and slamming it down on the table.

“It’s from Hagrid,” Harry sighed, “Buckbeak’s appeal is set for the sixth.”

“That’s the day we finish exams – we’ll be able to help,” I offered.

“But they’re coming up here to do it….” Harry sighed, “Someone from the Ministry of Magic and… and… and an executioner.”

“ _WHAT_?!” the three of us shouted.

“That sounds like they’ve already decided!” I snarled loudly.

“Yep,” Harry nodded gravely.

“Well they can’t. They simply can’t,” Hermione scowled, “I won’t _let_ them.”

Malfoy regained his swagger from the Quidditch defeat, acting like he owned the place again and gloating over Buckbeak’s impending doom. In response, George and I sent after him a traveling Hagrid, which made the familiar high pitch Malfoy screams fill the castle once again.

My relationship with Fred and George was interesting now when I was with the two of them. George didn’t want to make Fred uncomfortable, so while we studied charms together (the two of them helping me out a lot in order to revise for their O.W.L,) there was no physical contact whatsoever. But the moment Fred was gone, George was holding my hand and sending butterflies through my stomach constantly as a result.

The night before our first exams, I found Hermione falling asleep on top of her books by the girl’s staircase. Neville had almost completely ignored me when I had passed him in the corridor and it had made me very upset – I didn’t know why Neville was mad at me and I wanted to fix it. He was one of my best friends.

“Hermione? Hermione!” I shouted. She jumped with a start and looked up at me.

“Oh, Maggie! What’s up?” she yawned.

“What’s wrong with Neville?” I asked in a very firm voice, “And don’t pretend there’s nothing wrong, he ignores me all the time now.”

“Oh… erm…” Hermione was flushed, “I don’t know why, but I promise I’ll talk to him, alright? Really, I promise.” I found myself unable to believe her – that was the thing about our little foursome – except in some situations, we told each other _everything_.

Unfortunately, I was so distracted by exams and work that I couldn’t focus on the issue. Lucky for me, Transfiguration was our first exam, so I came out of it feeling confident and relaxed – we had to turn a teapot into a tortoise and I had done so easily. Hermione was sort of freaking out that hers was more like a turtle, but compared to the worries of everyone around us, this wasn’t an issue in the slightest. However, on the other hand, our second exam was Charms, which pretty much destroyed me. I couldn’t get the Cheering Charm right due to my stress and Hermione left the room laughing hysterically.

We had Potions, Care of Magical Creatures, and Astronomy the second day, so I spent my evening cramming for those and trying to forget my charms disaster. Hagrid was depressed during the exam, his heart not in it. He simply made us feed the flobberworms, but since the best way to deal with them was to leave them alone, the four of us approached him to talk.

“Beaky’s depressed,” Hagrid sighed, “Bin cooped up too long… we’ll know day after tomorrow, though, one way or another…”

Potions went all right for me; Snape seemed to be finally calming down after our screaming match. I managed to get my Confusing Concotion to thicken, but Harry and Neville seemed to be struggling. Astronomy at midnight was fine indeed; I managed to point out all of the nebulae in question with time to spare.

The next day we had History of Magic, then Hermione and I had Ancient Runes, and then we all had Herbology. History of Magic was a disaster, and I just prayed I had managed to bullshit enough information to pass. Ancient Runes went all right, though I wished I had my dictionaries available while sitting the exam; recalling the Anglo Saxon from memory was fine, and Egyptian was alright, but the Chinese still confused me. Herbology was wonderful, even though it was hot and sunny; Neville was in his element, and thus much cheerier than he had been in ages. This made me exceedingly happy, even though I had no clue why he was annoyed with me.

Finally, it was the last day. We had Defense Against the Dark Arts in the morning and either Arithmancy or Divination in the afternoon. The DADA exam was an obstacle course prepared by Professor Lupin. I had been doing a lot of boggart practice and braced myself for Lupin’s exam, knowing that this was my last chance to face the thing. We had to wade across a pool with a grindylow, cross a series of potholes with Red Caps, squash through marsh while ignoring the hinkypunk, and then climb into a trunk and battle with a boggart.

Harry went through it all easily, managing to come out of the trunk with full marks. I was next, and I braced myself, rushing forward bravely. I got through most of it fine – I fell for the hinkypunk a few times, but I managed to escape and reached the boggart and braced myself.

 _Crack!_ Harry lay dead in front of me in the trunk. I remembered what Lupin had told me – try and make him something funny before you realize exactly what you’re seeing. So I pictured Harry becoming a poster and following Malfoy around.

“ _Riddikulus!_ ” I shouted. Harry became a following poster, his tongue sticking out. I laughed loudly at the boggart and climbed out of the trunk triumphantly.

“Brilliant Maggie!” Lupin beamed, “Great job. Not quite full marks, but close.”

“Thanks professor!” I laughed.

It was Neville’s turn. He did very well, too. Though he needed to use magic to break the grindylow’s grip and got points off for that (it was more efficient to do it manually), and kept believing the hinkypunk, he managed to reach the boggart as well and came out of there looking proud of himself.

“Excellent work, Neville! Good job,” Lupin praised. The three of us then waited for Hermione, who got past everything perfectly until she came out of the trunk screaming and sobbing.

“Hermione!” Lupin gasped, “What’s the matter?”

“P-P-Professor Mcgonagall!” Hermione gasped, “Sh-she said I’d failed everything!”

It took us a while to calm her down. Since she had done everything else perfectly, her score wasn’t marked down too much. We headed up to the castle together, ready for our _final_ exam. Neville was muttering complex mathematical formulae under his breath, I was practicing trig functions with my wand, and Harry was simply trying to cheer Hermione up after Defense Against the Dark Arts.

We headed up to the classroom and began doing the complex mathematics immediately, as we could start when we sat down. Certain parts were difficult – using quadratic algebraic equations to determine the precise date the muggle Queen would die provided no unforeseen events occur had me stumped for ten full minutes. Neville next to me had his brow furrowed in concentration and Hermione was scribbling furiously on the other side. But, we finished, packing up our books and high fiving each other as we left the room. Hermione excused herself to go to the bathroom and I was left alone with Neville.

“Good job, Nev,” I said calmly, trying to pretend nothing was wrong, “You really worked hard.”

“Thanks Maggie,” Neville paused, “I’m sorry I’ve been so rude lately.”

I let out a sigh of relief, “I’m just glad you’re finally admitting it.”

Neville laughed, “Yeah, I was being immature about some things.”

“Like what?” I asked, frowning.

“Don’t… don’t worry about it. Besides, we have more important things to worry about – the trial’s today,” Neville scowled.

I looked at him in concern, “Are you sure? I can try to do something to fix it – really, I don’t like making you upset…”

Neville smiled strangely, “No, I realized I _didn’t_ want you to do anything to fix it.”

“I’m confused,” I laughed.

“I’ll tell you when you’re older,” Neville rolled his eyes, “Come on, we’ve got to sneak out to give Hagrid some defense…”

“We can’t, Dumbledore’s going to be there,” I sighed, “We’re going to have to pray for Hagrid.”

We reached the Common Room and I saw George in the back of the room, grinning at me. I smiled at Neville apologetically and walked over to him, giving him a hug.

“You finished?” George asked in my ear.

“Yeah,” I beamed, “You?”

“Thank Merlin, yes. Do you want to do something tonight, or…?”

“Well, to be honest, today’s the Appeal for Buckbeak… I might not be in the mood,” I frowned apologetically.

“Of course,” George nodded in understanding, “That’s fine, really. I’ll hang out with Fred and Lee.”

“Cool. Maybe tomorrow?” I raised an eyebrow.

“Sounds great,” George beamed and left to go talk to his twin and Lee in the other corner of the room. I turned back to Neville, and Hermione, who had appeared at his side. Hermione was shaking like mad and Neville’s fists were clenched and they were reading a piece of paper. I ran over to them and ripped it out of Hermione’s hands, reading it hurriedly. Hagrid’s handwriting was so shaky I practically could not read it.

_Lost appeal. They’re going to execute at sunset. Nothing you can do. Don’t come down. I don’t want you to see it.  
Hagrid_

“We’ve got to go down,” I declared firmly, “I don’t care how.”

Neville and Hermione nodded.

“We have to wait for Harry to come back from Divination. I’m sure it’s take a while because she has to do everyone individually,” Hermione sighed.

We all sat down at our usual table, waiting for Harry to enter the portrait hole. It was amazing how such a good mood could have been murdered like that in the span of two short seconds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! Let's keep the wonderful feedback coming :)


	24. Chapter Twenty - Three: June 9, 1994, hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Keep you in the dark 
> 
> You know they all pretend
> 
> Keep you in the dark
> 
> And so it all began
> 
> Send in your skeletons
> 
> Sing as their bones go marching in again
> 
> They need you buried deep 
> 
> The secrets that you keep are ever ready
> 
> Are you ready? 
> 
> I'm finished making sense 
> 
> Done pleading ignorance 
> 
> That whole defence 
> 
> Spinning infinity
> 
> Boy, the wheel is spinning me
> 
> It's never ending, never ending
> 
> Same old story
> 
> What if I say I'm not like the others?
> 
> What if I say I'm not just another one of your plays?
> 
> You're the pretender
> 
> What if I say that I will never surrender?" 
> 
> ~ Foo Fighters, "The Pretender"

Chapter Twenty-Three: June 9, 1994, Hogwarts

Harry ran into the Common Room, out of breath and frantic looking.

“Professor Trelawney,” Harry panted, coming up to us, “Just told me…”

We all frowned at him and he stopped talking.

“Buckbeak lost,” I snarled, “Hagrid’s just sent this.”

Harry read Hagrid’s letter rapidly, his eyes widening with every word.

“We’ve got to go,” Harry declared immediately, “He can’t just sit there on his own, waiting for the executioner!”

“We’ll need the invisibility cloak… Can it cover all four of us?” I whispered.

“Let’s see, I haven’t used it since we snuck into Hogsmeade,” Harry nodded. We all walked up to the boy’s dormitory together and Harry pulled out the cloak.

“Neville, I really wish you weren’t so tall,” Harry frowned.

“Sorry mate,” Neville sighed.

Harry threw the cloak over us and we checked our feet. We were _just_ covered, so we would have to move slowly underneath the thing, and remain tightly packed together. We were so tightly packed together that I was sort of wedged between Harry and Neville; Hermione was in the middle and felt _really_ squished as the three of us surrounded her. I felt very strange and almost nervous with Neville pressed so close against me, and I tried to ignore this completely nonsensical feeling.

“Alright, let’s go to dinner. I’ll bring the cloak with me and we’ll sneak out afterwards,” Harry decided. Hermione nodded in agreement, I gave him a grim expression, and Neville’s face was oddly flushed. We headed down to dinner together and sat down, the twins and Ginny coming up to us and talking amiably. George sat down immediately next to me and took my hand, making me flush uncontrollably and stare down at my plat.

“What did you find out about Buckbeak?” he murmured in concern. I looked up at him and frowned sadly.

“No,” George whispered. I nodded and he squeezed my hand tighter.

“Are you going to be okay tonight? Do you need… I dunno… someone to… yeah?” George’s face was flushed with embarrassment.

“Ah… Thanks, George, but we were…” I gestured to my three best friends and mouthed the words _Sneak out to see Hagrid_. George nodded immediately and turned back to his food.

Dinner ended and we headed to an empty chamber off of the Great Hall, waiting until the coast was clear and throwing the cloak over ourselves, pressing in tightly again. I could feel Neville’s breath on the back of my neck and I tried to ignore it. We snuck outside, walking as close together as we could, tip-toeing through the sunset lit grounds. We finally reached Hagrid’s door and knocked, and he opened the door looking wildly for us.

“It’s us, under the Cloak,” Harry hissed, “Let us in and we can take it off.”

“Yeh shouldn’ve come!” Hagrid whispered, but he stood back and we stepped inside. Hagrid wasn’t crying, and he didn’t fling himself on us. He was completely helpless, he looked as if he had no idea what to do or where to go. I felt so bad for him I wanted to go outside and just fly Buckbeak away, take all the blame for the crime. So I’d never come to Hogwarts again – at least Hagrid would be better.

“Wan’ some tea?” Hagrid asked, his hands shaking.

“Where’s Buckbeak, Hagrid?” Hermione asked kindly.

“I – I took him outside,” Hagrid explained, spilling milk all over the table, “He’s tethered in me pumpkin patch. Thought he oughta see the trees an’ – an’ smell fresh air – before –“

Hagrid’s hands shook madly and the milk jug fell from his grasp, shattering all over the floor.

 “Here, Hagrid, let me,” I murmured, rushing over and cleaning up the mess.

“There’s another in the cupboard,” Hagrid responded, sitting down in exhaustion.

“Isn’t there anything anyone can do, Hagrid?” Harry asked in a determined voice, “Dumbledore…”

“He’s tried, but he’s got no power ter overrule the Committee. He told ‘em Buckbeak’s all right, but they’re scared… Yeh know what Lucius Malfoy’s like… threatened ‘em, I expect…” Hagrid sighed.

“Well, none of them have met me,” I snapped angrily, slamming the milk jug down on the table in fury.

“She has a point. I’m sure they’d be more scared of Maggie,” Neville laughed. I rolled my eyes.

“Be that as it may, Macnair’s an old pal o’ Malfoy’s… but it’ll be quick an’ clean… an’ I’ll be beside him…”

Hagrid couldn’t even seem to release any emotion and I ran my hands through my hair, wanting to pull it out if it would help.

“Domedore’s gonna come down while it – while it happens. Wrote me this mornin’. Said he wants ter – ter be with me. Great man, Dumbledore…” Hagrid sighed.

Hermione let out a sob and said, “We’ll stay with you too, Hagrid…”

“No,” Hagrid responded bluntly, “Yeh’re ter go back up ter the castle. I told yeh, I don’ wan’ yeh watchin’. An’ yeh shouldn’ be down here anyway… If Fudge an’ Dumbledore catch yeh out without permission, Harry, yeh’ll be in big trouble.”

Hermione began sobbing hysterically and started to make tea when I had handed her the kettle, abysmal with any sort of kitchen activities myself. Suddenly, she let out a shriek.

“ _Guys_ , I don’t believe it – it’s – it’s _Scabbers!_ ”

We all looked at her like she was nutters.

“Scabbers is dead, last I checked,” Neville frowned.

Hermione carried over the milk jug and turned it over. Scabbers the rat scurried out, trying desperately to get back inside, but Harry had grabbed the rat, frowning at it.

“What’s he doing here?” Harry frowned, “Ron was so convinced…”

Scabbers looked like he hadn’t eaten since he left the castle, his hair was falling out in bald patches, and he writhed madly to free himself from Harry’s grip.

“Merlin,” Harry grunted, “I can’t hold onto this and get the cloak…”

“Here,” Neville nodded and took the rat from Harry. Hagrid was staring out the window, muttering, “They’re comin’…”

We all whirled around, Neville struggling with the ugly rat, to see Dumbledore, Cornelius Fudge, a feeble old man, and an ugly man with sleek black hair and a goatee.

“Yeh gotta go,” Hagrid stated firmly, though he himself was trembling madly, “They mustn’ find yeh here… Go now… I’ll let yeh out the back way.”

We followed out to the back garden, where Buckbeak was tethered and pawing the ground nervously. It was so surreal to see him there, knowing he was on the way to die. I wanted to sob but I restrained myself.

“It’s okay, Beaky,” Hagrid murmured, “It’s okay… Go on,” he ordered us, “Get goin’.”

I found my feet were stuck to the ground.

“Hagrid, we can’t –“

“We’ll tell them about Malfoy and how much of a dirty, lying –“

“This isn’t _right_ –“

“They can’t kill him –“

“Go!” Hagrid snarled, “It’s bad enough without you lot in trouble an’ all!”

Hermione threw the Cloak over us all and we scrunched together to fit underneath it again. Hagrid hissed to us, “Go quick, Don’ listen…” and we began walking together slowly around Hagrid’s house, to the other side. The front door to the hut closed with a snap.

“Oh let’s hurry,” Hermione whimpered, “I can’t stand it, I can’t bear it… I can’t…”

We started walking to the castle, but Neville was having trouble. We had to stop halfway up the hill as he struggled with the stupid rat.

“Oh just let Scabbers go, Ron thinks he’s dead anyway,” I hissed.

“Please, I don’t want to be here, Neville,” Hermione begged.

“We can’t,” Neville snapped, “He’s Ron’s rat and we have to bring him back.”

A door opened behind us and we heard people talking. I whirled around in panic and held onto the bloody rat, my hands above Neville’s and trying to stop it from struggling.

“Don’t _kill_ the thing,” Harry hissed.

“Everyone’ll hear us!” Neville moaned.

“Oh, they’re going to do it now, I can’t…” Hermione groaned.

“Look, if we don’t move, I’m going to rip off this Cloak and start a coup – strangle Macnair, bully the Committee dude, whatever. So we’ve got to _go_ ,” I hissed.

The rat had begun to squeal loudly, but not loudly enough to reach Hagrid’s garden as I tried to muffle the thing. There were many indistinct male voices talking over one another, then silence, and then the swish and thud of an axe.

Hermione swayed in horror and leaned on Harry, sobbing.

“They did it! I d-d-don’t believe it – they did it!”

I stared out at the Hut in shock, unable to process the information that had just entered my head. We all looked at each other in expressions of equal horror, frozen to the spot. The sun was setting and we could hear wild howling in the distance.

“Hagrid,” Harry muttered. He turned around but we all grabbed him by the arm.

“No, Harry,” I hissed, “Hagrid’ll get in trouble if they found out we visited him.”

Scabbers was still writhing madly between me and Neville and we both grunted with the effort of trying to keep him still. We managed, however, to reach open ground, somehow.

“Why – won’t – he – stay – still?” Neville grunted as we stopped for the millionth time.

“I – bloody – hate – this – rat!” I hissed, “OUCH!” The rat had bit me and I dropped my hands, leaving Scabbers only to be controlled by Neville.

“Maggie, be quiet! We can’t be heard by Fudge!” Hermione whispered angrily.

“Stay still!” Neville growled at the rat, “What’s the _matter_ with him?”

Harry’s eyes widened at something and I spun around under the cloak to see Crookshanks slinking towards us, low to the ground, his bright red hair standing out against the green grass. I groaned loudly.

“Crookshanks!” Hermione moaned, “No, go away, Crookshanks! Go away!”

The cat was getting nearer and Scabbers writhed more in Neville’s grip.

“Scabbers – NO!” Neville shouted, leaping after the rat as it fell to the ground, catching it before it scampered away. Crookshanks flung himself on top of Neville, causing Neville to shout in shock. He was out of the cloak and I threw it off of me, trying to get the cat off of my friend, hissing in anger. The rat had gotten out of Neville’s grip and he stumbled to his feet, sprinting after it.

“Ron – owes – me –big –time!” Neville roared.

I followed him, throwing Crookshanks back at Hermione and sprinting through the grass. Hermione and Harry both followed behind us, running at their fastest.

“Guys, we’ve got to get back under the cloak!” Harry hissed, “Forget the bloody rat!”

Neville had managed to grab onto the rat and I had collapsed in the grass next to him. I stood up and turned to help him, since it was hard for him to get up with the rat squealing and writing in his hadns. But before I could do so, something was running towards us – a giant, shaggy, pale-eyed, jet-black dog. The dog leapt over Neville and knocked Harry to the ground, rolling off Harry in the next instant. He then grabbed Neville, who had managed to stumble to his feet from the shock of the dog’s appearance, by the leg with his maw. The dog jerked backward and began dragging Neville away.

“ _NO!”_ I shouted, grabbing onto Neville’s outstretched hand as he held tightly to the rat in the other. The dog still managed to drag the pair of us, Neville looking at me in terror and shouting in terror. Hermione and Harry were trying to stop the dog but it was too dark now, the dog blended in. They were knocked out of the way by something I couldn’t see and soon after, as I was being dragged further away, I saw Harry’s lit wand. We were at the base of the Womping Willow, and the dog was dragging Neville and me beneath its roots.

“MAGGIE! NEVILLE!” the other two screamed, but no matter how much I clawed at the dirt to escape being dragged underneath the violent tree the dog was too strong. I pulled up grass with my hands and screamed, “HELP!” at the top of my lungs. The dog continued to drag us through a dark, dimly lit passageway lined with dirt, Neville simply whimpering now as I squeezed his hand tightly, still trying to fight and get him to come back with me and being unable to.

“GO!” Neville roared when he saw I wasn’t going to stop trying to bring him back.

“I’M NOT LEAVING WITHOUT YOU, YOU BLOODY IDIOT!” I snarled. The passageway continued on and the dog kept dragging us. Neville looked simply shocked at my words and didn’t say another protest at my being dragged away with him. The tunnel began to rise and I could see in the darkness, somehow, that Neville was crying slightly – tears were in his eyes and I could only imagine how much pain he was in. We finally entered a disordered, dusty room, with paper peeling from the walls. Stains littered the floor, the furniture was demolished, and the windows were boarded. The great dog dropped Neville and we collapsed on the wooden floor, looking at each other in terror.

Suddenly, a tall shadow loomed above us. We both looked above us to see _Sirius Black_ looming above us, still in his prisoner robes, his hair matted and endlessly long, his eyes shining out of deep dark sockets with waxy skin stretched tightly over his face.

“Get upstairs, both of you,” he ordered calmly.

Neville’s mouth was open in horror and I was stammering, “You’re… you’re an… an Animagus…”

“Good job, smart, just like your mum. Oh, I’ll take that,” Black grabbed Neville’s wand out of his pocket and pointed it at us, “Upstairs. Now.”

“No,” I stated firmly, standing up on shaking legs, pulling out my own wand, “No.”

“Do as I say,” Black said in a very calm voice. I knew he was implying the _or else_ bit. Neville’s face was wide with terror and I helped him up, letting him lean on me as he held onto the rat. His leg was a bloody mess, gnawed raw, and he clearly couldn’t walk on it. It was hard for him to lean on me, as I was barely five feet tall and he had reached the six feet mark. But, because of the look on Black’s face, we managed to get up the stairs and sat in a corner of the room there.

“Your friends will be coming for you. Sit there,” Black pointed to a spot across from the door.

“You won’t kill Harry, not with me around!” I shouted, “You’ll have to kill me first! You will!”

“Only one will die tonight, now _sit there_ ,” Black hissed, “And give me the rat.”

“What bloody for?” I threw my arms up in the air and smashed them on my legs, helping Neville to the spot across the way. I wanted to jinx Black so badly, but he knew immediately that I was going to and shouted, “ _Expelliarmus!_ ”

“That took you long enough,” I stated dully, sitting next to Neville who was still in shock-and-terror mode.

“Merlin, you’re like your mum,” Sirius Black sighed, “Lie down, you’ll damage the leg even more.”

Neville grunted with pain and I helped him lie down. This was extraordinarily strange – why would Sirius Black care about Neville’s leg?

“You’re Longbottom, yes?” Black frowned, “Neville?”

Neville nodded, now recovered enough to glare at Black with me.

“You look a lot like your mum,” Black continued conversationally, “She also –“

“Oh stop chit-chatting!” I sneered, “Do you honestly think you can talk to us when you’re going to kill Harry? Do you **seriously** think we’ll listen to you?”

Black opened his mouth again but sounds could be heard in the distance. He slunk into the shadows, behind the door. Footsteps were coming up the steps and I found myself praying for it to be _anyone but_ Harry.

But then Harry and Hermione appeared at the top of the steps, dashing across to Neville and me.

“Neville, are you okay?” Hermione gasped.

“Where’s the dog?” Harry demanded.

“It’s not a dog,” I sneered, “Harry, It’s a trap!”

“What –“

“ _Sirius Black is an animagus, he’s the dog!_ ”

Harry and Hermione wheeled around to see Sirius Black as he reappeared out of the shadows, grinning slightly.

“ _Expelliarmus!_ ” he croaked, and Harry and Hermione’s wands flew in the air into his hand.

“I thought you’d come and help your friends,” Black explained hoarsely, “Your father would have done the same for me. Brave of you, not to run for a teacher. I’m grateful… it will make everything much easier…”

Harry started forward to attack him but I jumped up, holding him back with Hermione.

“No, Harry!” Hermione sobbed.

“If you want to kill my brother,” I snapped, stepping in front of Harry, “You’ll have to kill me first.”

“ _Maggie –_ “

“No, Harry,” I whirled around, “I’d rather die than see you hurt.”

“There’ll be only one murder here tonight,” Black stated calmly, his grin widening.

“Why’s that?” Harry spat, trying to wrench himself free from me and Hermione, “Didn’t care last time, did you? Didn’t mind slaughtering all those Muggles to get at Pettigrew… What’s the matter, gone soft in Azkaban?”

“Harry!” Hermione whimpered.

“HE KILLED MY MUM AND DAD!” Harry roared. I felt my eyes widen. Usually, it was my job to be mad; this was a bizarre situation for me. He managed to lunge forward out of our grip at our shock and rushed forward to Sirius Black, knocking the wands out of his hand, punching Black in the side of the face. Hermione started screaming and I was shouting in horror, Neville yelling despite the intense pain he was in. A jet of sparks burst from the wands and missed Harry by inches.

Black’s free hand swung out of nowhere and fastened around Harry’s throat, hissing, “No, I’ve waited too long –“

Hermione rushed forward and kicked Black in the side of the head with all the force she could muster as I roared and ran forward, biting Black on the wrist that was choking Harry on pure impulse. Black groaned with pain and shock and let go. Neville had thrown himself on Black’s wand hand and something clattered. Harry broke free and dove towards his wand on the ground, but Crookshanks had appeared out of nowhere and was attacking Harry. Harry managed to shove the cat across the room and grabbed his wand, whirling around and getting to his feet.

“GET OUT OF THE WAY!” Harry roared. Hermione, Neville and I backed away rapidly, me wiping Black’s blood from my mouth. Neville looked to be in extreme pain, his usually pale face green now, clutching his broken leg with one hand and Scabbers with the other. Hermione grabbed our wands and threw me mine, which I caught in the air. Harry pointed his at Black and stalked towards him.

“Going to kill me, Harry?” black whispered.

“You killed my parents,” Harry sneered, his wand steady but his voice shaking.

“I don’t deny it,” Black responded quietly, “But if you knew the whole story…”

“What story?!” I roared, “You sold them to Voldemort! That’s the worst thing – the most awful thing –“

“Maggie, shut up,” Harry sighed. I glared back to him as he continued, “But she’s right. That’s all I need to know.”

“You’ve got to listen to me, you’ll regret it if you don’t… You don’t understand…” Black continued, his voice urgent.

“I understand a lot better than you think,” Harry’s voice was shaking, “You never heard her, did you? My mum… trying to stop Voldemort killing me… my dad, telling her to run away… and you did that… you did it…”

Crookshanks leapt through the air and landed on Black, blocking him from Harry. Hermione began sobbing on the other side of Harry and Harry’s eyes narrowed at the cat. Harry raised his wand, bracing himself. But he was frozen, everyone staring at him in anticipation, Neville whimpering with pain nearby and then, suddenly, muffled footsteps were echoing from the downstairs.

“WE’RE UP HERE!” Hermione screamed, “WE’RE UP HERE! SIRIUS BLACK! – _QUICK!_ ”

We all wheeled around and saw Professor Lupin enter the room, his face bloodless, his wand raised and ready.

“I was looking out my window,” he explained calmly, “I saw you two, Neville, Maggie, get dragged underneath the Womping Willow… I saw Harry and Hermione follow you… and I saw the great, big, black dog,” he whirled and faced Sirius Black.

“Remus – Remus, it’s not what you think,” Black begged.

“I don’t see why I should believe you,” Lupin responded in a cold voice, “Seeing as what believing you got James and Lily.”

“Longbottom – Neville – Neville has the rat, Neville has _Wormtail_ , Moony, _Wormtail_ ,” Black begged.

Lupin’s eyes looked skeptical but he turned to face Neville, “Neville, may I see the rat?”

Neville handed Lupin the creature, his face contorted with pain.

“I’ll do something for that leg, don’t worry,” he murmured kindly, picking up the rat. Lupin looked down at the creature and his eyes widened.

“No… it _can’t_ be…”

But I was similarly shocked.

“Wait… Moony? Wormtail? As in… Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs?” I gasped.

The two adults looked at me in amazement.

“You’re familiar with the map, then,” Lupin stated calmly.

“Yeah,” I raised my eyebrows, “I got it from a – a friend.”

“And she gave it to me,” Harry responded calmly.

“That’s oddly fitting,” Black muttered.

“Shut your face!” I screamed at him.

“Maggie, please, calm down, we don’t know all the facts,” Lupin stated calmly.

“I know as many facts as I need!” I roared, “Professor, you know – you helped me – you know I can’t stand the thought of –“

“I know, Maggie, but if this rat is who I think it is…” Lupin whispered, looking down at the now violently struggling rodent in his hands.

“Rat? Who you think it is?” Hermione croaked.

“Harry, do you have the map _on_ you?” Lupin asked calmly.

Harry nodded, handing Lupin the map after digging it out of his pockets, “Don’t leave without it.”

“Good,” Lupin nodded, opening up the map and whispering, “ _I solemnly swear that I am up to no good_.”

The map appeared and I stared at Lupin.

“Who… are moony, wormtail, padfoot, and prongs?” I whispered.

“Well, I am Moony,” Lupin responded conversationally, “This rat, if Black is correct, is Wormtail. Sirius is Padfoot, and Harry’s dad was Prongs.”

We all stared at Lupin in shock.

“Good thing I helped to write the map, otherwise I wouldn’t be able to extend its field of vision,” Lupin continued, prodding the map and making it move over, to right over the Shrieking Shack in Hogsmeade, where I realized we were. Lupin tapped the map again to look closer at the Shack, and I peered over his shoulder to read the names present.

 _Sirius Black, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Neville Longbottom, Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew_.

“What?!” I shouted.

Lupin nodded in understanding and tapped the map, murmuring, “Mischief Managed.”

“What the hell is going on?” Harry snapped.

“Harry – Peter Pettigrew – is on the map –“ I raised my eyebrows and spun around to face him.

“He can’t be, _he_ killed him,” Harry roared, pointing at Black.

Lupin handed me the struggling rat and walked forward to Black. He extended his hand, and helped Black up, suddenly hugging him like a brother.

I felt my mouth drop open and Hermione shouted at the top of her lungs, “I DON’T BELIEVE IT!”

Lupin let go of Black and turned to us, looking at us clamly.

“You – you!” Hermione stammered.

“Hermione, calm down –“

“I didn’t tell anyone about you!” Hermione shouted, “I’ve been covering for you and everything!”

“Hermione, listen to me, please!” Lupin begged.

But Harry was shaking in fury.

“I trusted you!” Harry shouted, “And all this time, you’ve been his friend!”

I was confused. If I hadn’t seen the map, I would have been just as furious as Harry. But Peter Pettigrew being alive seemed to make me feel like the facts didn’t make complete sense anymore. If Black didn’t kill Pettigrew…

“You’re wrong,” Lupin answered calmly, “I haven’t been Sirius’s friend, but I am now, please, let me explain…”

“NO!” Hermione screamed, “Harry, don’t trust him, he’s been helping Black get into the castle, he wants you dead too – _he’s a werewolf!_ ”

There was dead silence. Neville let out a squeak of terror and I looked at Lupin calmly. So he was a werewolf. I was more upset at the first two.

“Not at all up to your usual standard, Hermione,” Lupin stated, “only one out of three, I’m afraid. I have not been helping Sirius get into the castle and I certainly don’t want Harry dead… But I won’t deny that I am a werewolf,” Lupin shivered.

Neville looked up at Lupin in terror but I was looking at him calmly. Lupin seemed shocked by this.

“Maggie, I _do_ believe that this is the first time you’ve been the calmest amongst your friends,” Lupin commented.

“I saw the map, Professor,” I responded, “And I realize the story isn’t what we thought it was.”

“Thank you,” Black murmured hoarsely.

“It’s not for your benefit – I just don’t feel like seeing my cousin become a murderer for no reason,” I responded in a dull voice, “I want to kill you with equal vigor.”

“How long have you know, Hermione?” Lupin interjected.

“Ages,” Hermione whispered, “Since I did Professor Snape’s essay…”

“He’ll be delighted,” Lupin responded dully, “He assigned the essay hoping someone would realize what my symptoms meant. What tipped you off?”

“You always fall ill at the full moon, and your boggart was the moon,” Hermione whispered.

“You _are_ the cleverest witch of you age, Hermione,” Lupin praised forcing a laugh.

“I’m not,” Hermione shook her head, “If I’d been cleverer, I’d have told everyone what you are!”

“But they already know – well, the staff do,” Lupin sighed, “Dumbledore had to work very hard to convince some of the teachers I am trustworthy.”

“AND HE WAS WRONG!” Harry yelled, “YOU’VE BEEN HELPING HIM ALL THE TIME!” Harry pointed to Black, who was now sitting in the four-poster bed.

“I have _not_ been helping Sirius,” Lupin responded calmly, “Please let me explain.”

Everyone looked at each other and I nodded, my arms folded tightly across my head. That nod convinced the other three, and we all looked at Lupin.

“How did you see us? We’re on the other side of the castle,” Harry commented cautiously.

“I was watching out the window – I knew you four would try to sneak out of the castle to join Hagrid, and even though I knew you’d might be wearing your father’s old cloak, I thought I’d try to catch a glimpse at Hagrid’s Hut.”

“How do you know about the cloak?” Harry asked.

“The number of times I saw James disappearing under it… at any rate, I obviously saw you all scuffling with Sirius, whom I immediately recognized,” Lupin nodded, “I came down to help, and you know the rest.”

“And now you’re convinced that Ron’s rat is Peter Pettigrew,” I murmured calmly.

“ _What?!_ ” Harry snarled.

“He’s not a rat, he’s an animagus, same as Sirius, same as…” Lupin explained.

“That’s bullshit,” Harry snapped.

“He is,” Black insisted.

“You’re mental!” Neville whispered.

“Ridiculous!” Hermione agreed faintly.

“Peter Pettigrew’s _dead_!” Harry continued, “ _He_ killed him twelve years ago!” Harry pointed at Black.

“I meant to, certainly,” Black growled, “But little Peter got the better of me… Remus, _please_ give me the rat of a man.”

“Harry deserves to know the truth, they need to understand,” Lupin responded.

“We can explain afterwards!” Black snarled, rushing forward, grappling with the rat in Lupin’s hand.

“They – should – know – everything!” Lupin roared, leaping back from Black, “I don’t understand everything myself! Harry deserves the truth, and so do his friends, for caring about his safety!”

“All right then,” Black snapped, “Tell them whatever you like. But make it quick, Remus, I want to commit the murder I was imprisoned for.”

“You’re completely mental!” Neville finally managed to gasp out through the pain.

“Please hear me out,” Lupin stated calmly.

Harry turned to Lupin, “There were witnesses, people who saw Pettigrew die – a whole street.”

“They didn’t see what they thought they saw!” Black hissed.

“Everyone thought Sirius killed Peter, I agree Harry. I thought so myself… until I just saw the map. Until I saw the rat in Neville’s hands. Because the Marauder’s Map never lies and I knew Pettigrew’s rat form so well I would never forget it… same as Sirius’ dog form. Peter is alive, and he’s in my hands,” Lupin murmured.

“But Professor Lupin… Scabbers can’t be Pettigrew… it just can’t be true, you know it can’t…” Hermione whispered.

“Why can’t it be true?” Lupin asked calmly, as though we were in class.

“Because… because people would _know_ if Peter Pettigrew had been an Animagus. We did Animagi in class with Professor McGonagall. And I looked them up when I did my homework – the Ministry of Magic keeps tabs on witches and wizards who can become animals; there’s a register showing what animal they become, and their markings and things… and I went and looked Professor McGonagall up on the register, and there have been only seven Animagi this century, and Pettigrew’s name wasn’t on the list –“

I felt my face turn bright red and I tried to mask it from the others, looking away down at my shoes.

“Right again, Hermione!” Lupin was laughing to our amazement, “But the Ministry never knew that there used to be three unregistered Animagi running around Hogwarts.”

“Get a move on with this, Remus. I’ve done my waiting. Twelve years of it, in Azkaban. I’m not going to wait much longer,” Black snarled.

“You’ll need to help me, Sirius,” Lupin frowned, “I only know how it began after all.”

A sound came from downstairs, probably a mouse scurrying along the floor, but Lupin went to check it out anyway.

“No one there…” he nodded.

“Isn’t it supposed to be haunted?” Neville asked.

“It’s not,” Lupin responded, “The Shrieking Shack was never haunted. The screams and howls the villagers heard, attributing them to ghosts, were made by me…. That’s where this whole story starts, after all. None of this would have happened if I hadn’t been bitten, been turned into a werewolf…”

Lupin looked exhausted. We all nodded for him to continue.

“I was a very small boy when I was bitten. There was no cure in those days, my parents tried but couldn’t do anything. The potion I get from Professor Snape is a very recent discovery – it makes me safe, if I take it the week before the full moon. I keep my mind when I transform when I’ve taken it – I’m able to curl up in my office, a harmless wolf, and wait for the moon to wane again. Before the potion was discovered, however, I was a full monster once a month. Werewolves hardly, if ever, came to Hogwarts. In fact, I was the first. I was a danger to myself and to others. But Dumbledore became headmaster, and he was sympathetic. He made precautions so that I could come to school. The Shrieking Shack was made here, and a pathway was made underground to the school. But Dumbledore didn’t want people using it, so he planted the Whomping Willow over it. I was smuggled out to the Shack once a month and to transform. The transformations back then were… horrific. The actual physical transformation was painful, and I couldn’t bite any humans, so I bit myself. The villagers heard me screaming and assumed that ghosts had moved into the shack. Dumbledore encouraged the rumor, so none of the villagers approached the Shack,” Lupin explained.

“But, when I came to school, the transformation almost didn’t seem as painful – I was happier than I had ever been before. I had friends, for the first time in my life – Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew, and James Potter. Of course, they noticed that I disappeared once a month. I made up stories – my sister was abroad and wanted me to see her, my mum was ill and needed me to visit her – but eventually they figured it out. I was terrified they would leave me. But instead, they decided to do something to help make my transformation more bearable – they became Animagi,” Lupin explained.

“My dad, too?” Harry gasped.

“Of course. It took them the best part of three years to work out how to do it. Your father and Sirius here were the cleverest students in the school – fortunately, because the transformation can go a terribly wrong. Peter had to rely completely on James and Sirius. In fifth year, they finally managed it. They kept me company as animals during my transformations, sneaking out of the castle every month under James’s cloak. They transformed and slipped into the tunnel – Peter would press the knot that froze the Willow, they would go down and join me in their animal forms. With them around, I was less dangerous – my mind a little bit returned to me. Soon we were leaving the Shack and roaming the school grounds together, Sirius and James able to keep me in check. We explored the ground so much we were able to write the Marauder’s Map, with our nicknames,” Lupin continued.

“That was really dangerous!” Hermione gasped, “What if you’d slipped past the others, and bitten someone?”

“I still am haunted by that possibility. And there were many near misses, which we would laugh about, because we were young and careless. I sometimes feel guilty about betraying Dumbledore’s trust – after all, no other Headmaster would have admitted me to Hogwarts, and I was breaking the rules he had put in place to make me safe. But I forgot my guilt when we went out and had another grand adventure, every month. But this year, I’ve been battling with myself… wondering if I should tell Dumbledore about Sirius… but I didn’t, because I was a coward. It would be admitting what we’d done all those years ago, admitting I had betrayed him and he had given me a job on top of everything else – so I convinced myself Sirius was using the Dark Arts, rather than his dog form… so Snape’s been, in a way, right about me from the beginning,” Lupin sighed.

“Snape?” Black snapped, “What’s Snape got to do with it?”

“He’s a Professor here,” I stated calmly.

“Bet your mum loves that,” Black laughed, a barkish laugh.

I frowned at him, “She and Professor Snape are friends…”

“ _Really_?” Black’s eyebrows rose, “ _That’s_ a new development.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked angrily.

“Professor Snape and your mother were at odds when Sirius went to Azkaban,” Lupin explained calmly, “Their renewed friendship happened afterwards.”

“Why did they stop being friends?” I asked curiously.

“That is a very complicated story that I’m not entirely sure is my right to tell,” Lupin stated, “Your mum would get very upset with me.”

“I could tell her, she hates me anyway,” Black laughed.

“Of course she does, you’re responsible for her cousin’s death!” Harry snapped.

“Beyond that – she hated me during school as well. She was two years ahead off all of us. She hated me and your father, Harry, during school – thought we were stuck up, arrogant. She liked Remus, though, and of course her and Lily were attached at the hip. And, Lily was friends with Snape, since they grew up together, so she became friends with Snape.”

Harry’s eyes widened into saucers.

“However, since your mum was in Slytherin, we didn’t do much to help her improve her opinion of us. But James redeemed himself by default when he started dating Lily,” Sirius finished, “I never had that opportunity. But never mind all that – what does Snape have to do with this?”

“He fought very hard against my appointment as the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. He’s been telling Dumbledore all year that I am not trustworthy – he had a prank played on him by Sirius and James which nearly killed him, a prank involving me, so he thought I was involved,” Lupin continued.

“Served him right,” Sirius sneered, “Sneaking around, trying to figure out what we were doing, trying to get us expelled…”

“Snape didn’t like any of us very much – he _hated_ James, despised Sirius, bullied Peter, and disliked me to boot. Snape saw me crossing the grounds with Madam Pomfrey and Sirius tried to lure him into following me to the Shack, to meet me as a werewolf – James pulled him back, though, saved his life, but Snape saw me and was forbidden to tell anyone what I was,” Lupin explained.

“So Snape doesn’t like you, because he thought you were in on the prank?” Harry asked slowly.

“Precisely,” Lupin nodded.

“What does this have to do with Black, Pettigrew, and Harry’s parents?” I asked calmly, “I admit that the fact that that rat is Pettigrew pokes a hole in my conception of Black – but I need to know how this means he’s _innocent_.”

Lupin sighed, “You’re right, of course. I still don’t understand the whole story, though I have a guess.”

“Enlighten us,” Neville grunted through his pain.

“We should give you lot some proof to continue,” Lupin sighed, “I shall change Pettigrew back…”

“Wait a second – how’d you know that Scabbers was Pettigrew without seeing him up close?” Hermione asked.

“That’s a good question, Hermione – how _did_ you know, Sirius?” Lupin asked.

Black pulled out a crumpled piece of paper from his robes – it was a photo from the daily prophet, of the entire Weasley Clan, and there was Scabbers on Ron’s shoulder.

“How’d you get this?” Lupin asked in shock.

“Fudge,” Black explained, “He came to inspect Azkaban last year and gave me his paper. And there was Peter on the front page – knew him at once of course, just as you did. The Caption said he was going back to Hogwarts – to where Harry was…”

“And his front paw…” Lupin gasped in amazement.

“Wait…” Harry’s eyes widened.

“Exactly, Harry. He’s got a toe missing,” Lupin smiled.

“So explain, and then give proof,” Harry demanded, “I’m not saying I believe you…”

“I cornered him in the street. He yelled so all could hear about how I’d betrayed Lily and James. He then blew apart the street before I could curse him, killing everyone within twenty feet. He cut his own finger off and sped down into the sewer with the other rats – so no one would find his whole body,” Sirius explained.

“But Ron’s family has had him for ages…” Harry frowned.

“Twelve years, I can only assume,” Lupin clarified, “Too long for a common garden rat, I suppose. And he’s not looking good at the moment – been losing weight ever since Sirius was on the loose again.”

We all looked at each other in amazement, remember Ron getting the rat tonic the moment we got to Diagon Alley.

“Well, that cat’s been trying to grab him all year…” Harry tried to justify, but you could tell from the sound of his voice that he knew his explanation had holes.

“That cat is brilliant. Knew Peter for who he was right away. It took me a while to gain his trust, but he’s been trying to bring me Pettigrew all year when we finally started communicating – even went and stole the passwords to Gryffindor Tower for me, from a boy’s bedside table…” Sirius explained.

“ _SERIOUSLY?!_ ” Neville roared through his pain.

“It wasn’t _yours_ …” Sirius frowned.

“COURSE IT WAS!” Neville shouted, “I have a terrible memory. Everyone hated me for that! They thought I’d lost it! I thought so too! I had so many detentions and I can’t go to Hogsmeade and _you’ve got to be bloody kidding me!_ ”

“Neville, calm down, you’re not well,” I whispered.

“Maggie, I will not calm down, that cat is the reason behind all that insanity I had to go through!” Neville snarled.

“I am truly sorry,” Sirius responded.

“I’m so confused,” Hermione was holding her head in her hands, “Why would you be _sorry?_ ”

“Peter got wind of all this, and ran for it,” Black continued as if she hadn’t spoken, “The cat told me the rat faked his own death once again.”

“Why’d he fake his own death?” Harry demanded angrily, “Because he knew you were about to kill him like you killed my parents!”

“Harry, that’s not what happened,” Lupin begged.

“And now you’ve come to finish him off!”

“Yes,” Black answered simply.

“Harry, don’t you see?” Lupin begged, “All this time we’ve thought Sirius betrayed your parents, and Peter tracked him down… but it –“

 _“To be honest, based on what I knew of him… I didn't actually think he was a dark wizard. I never suspected it. And, being from Slytherin, I'm usually good at recognizing these things,”_ my mum had said last summer.

“Was the other way around,” I whirled around, gaping at Sirius as I finally put together the final pieces in my head.

Lupin was nodding eagerly, “Yes, Maggie – _Peter_ betrayed Harry’s parents, Sirius tracked _Peter_ down…”

“SIRIUS WAS THEIR SECRET KEEPER! HE SAID SO BEFORE YOU TURNED UP! HE SAID HE KILLED THEM!”

“He said he was the reason behind their death…” I whispered.

“Exactly. I as good as killed them,” Black croaked, “I persuaded Lily and James to change to peter at the last moment, to use him as the Secret-Keeper instead of me… The night they died, I went to check on Peter, make sure he was still safe, but he was gone… there was no sign of a struggle. I went to your parent’s house straightaway, and when I saw the house, and their bodies… I realized what Peter had done… what I had done…”

His voice broke. I felt pity enter my heart, which was so strange in the case of him.

“I’m going to settle this once and for all and reveal Pettigrew,” Lupin declared, “It won’t hurt the rat if it really isn’t him.” He pointed his wand at the rat and a flash of blue-white light erupted from it, suspending Scabbers in midair. He fell and hit the floor, and then suddenly Scabbers was growing, growing into a person – a short man, barely taller than Hermione, Harry, and me. He had thin colorless hair with a bald patch on top, he had lost a lot of weight, and his skin was grubby.

“Well, hello, Peter,” Lupin greeted pleasantly, “Long time, no see.”

“S-Sirius… R-Remus… My friends… my old friends…” his eyes darted to the door as his squeaky voice greeted them nervously.

Sirius made a move as though to strike him, but Lupin stopped him, turning back to Pettigrew.

“We’ve been having a nice little chat, Peter, about the night Lily and James died…. You might have missed the finer points while you were trying to rip from my hands…”

“Remus… You don’t believe him, do you? He tried to kill me, Remus…” Pettigrew begged.

“Why,” I stated calmly, “Would an innocent man hide out for twelve years from a man who was imprisoned in Azkaban?”

Harry’s eyes widened and Hermione finally came to the same epiphany that I had – they were telling the truth.

“I was afraid – I knew he could break out at any moment –“ Pettigrew protested.

“Right,” I paused, “Because it had been done before.”

“If you could please clear up some of the finer points for us here, Pettigrew,” Lupin stated coldly, “That would be very kind.”

“He’s going to kill me!” Pettigrew squeaked, “He killed Lily and James and he’s going to kill me too…”

“No one’s going to try and kill you until we’ve sorted a few things out,” Lupin sighed.

“Sorted things out?!” Pettigrew squealed, “I knew he’d come after me! I knew he’d be back for me! I’ve been waiting for this for twelve years!”

“I’m sorry, but I repeat. No one’s ever done it before. Why would you be scared of him breaking out?” I accused.

“He’s got Dark powers the rest of us can only dream of!” Pettigrew shouted shrilly, “How else did he get out of there! I suppose He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named taught him a few tricks!”

Black started laughing, a cruel laugh that filled the whole room as he responded, “Voldemort, teach me tricks?’

Pettigrew flinched.

“What, scared to hear your old master’s name? I don’t blame you, Peter. His lot aren’t very happy with you, are they?” Black laughed.

“Don’t know what you mean, Sirius…” Pettigrew muttered, now sweating horrifically and hyperventilating.

“You haven’t been hiding from _me_ for twelve years, you’ve been hiding from Voldemort’s old supporters. I heard things in Azkaban, Peter… They all think you’re dead, or you’d have to answer to them… I’ve heard them screaming all sorts of things in their sleep. Sounds like they think the double-crosser double-crossed them. Voldemort went to the Potters’ on your information… and Voldemort met his downfall there. And all Voldemort’s supporters ended up in Azkaban, did they? There are still plenty out here, biding their time, pretending they’ve seen the error of their ways… If they ever got wind that you were still alive, Peter –“

“I don’t… know what… you’re talking about,” Peter stammered, “You don’t believe this insanity, do you, Remus?”

“I must admit, Peter, I have difficulty understanding why an innocent man would want to spend twelve years as a rat,” Lupin responded calmly.

“Innocent, but scared! If Voldemort’s supporters were after me, it was because I put one of their best men in Azkaban – the spy, Sirius Black!” Pettigrew insisted.

Black’s face contorted into an angry glare, “How _dare_ you – I, a spy for Voldemort? When did I ever sneak around people who were more powerful than myself? But you, Peter – I don’t know why I didn’t guess you were the spy from the start. You always liked having big, powerful friends to look after you? First me, Remus, and James… and then, Voldemort.”

Pettigrew wiped his face clean of sweat, “I don’t know where you got this idea – me, a spy –“

“Lily and James made you their secret keeper because I suggested it,” Black hissed angrily, “I thought it was the perfect plan… a bluff… Voldemort would be sure to come after me, would never dream they’d use a weak, talentless thing like _you_ … It must have been the crowning moment of your pathetic life, delivering the Potters to Voldemort.”

Pettigrew was still mumbling protests, but his face had gone ashen and he kept looking at the various escape routes in the room.

“Professor Lupin? Can – can I say something?” Hermione asked timidly.

“Certainly, Hermione,” Lupin allowed courteously.

“Well… this man… he’s been sleeping in Harry’s dormitory for three years… If he’s working for You-Know-Who, how come he never tried to hurt Harry?”

“There! Thank you! You see, Remus? I have never hurt a hair on Harry’s head!” Pettigrew jumped on this bone eagerly.

“Because you never did anything for anyone unless you could see what was in it for you. Voldemort’s been in hiding for twelve years, h’s half dead. You weren’t about to commit murder, in full view of Albus Dumbledore, for a weakling wizard who had less power than you, were you? You wanted to know Voldemort was the biggest man on campus before you went back to him. Why else would you go to a wizard family rather than just live in the sewers? You kept an ear open for news, just in case Voldemort regained strength, so you could scurry back to his protection…”

“Er… Mr. Black… Sirius?” Hermione asked again.

Black jumped at being addressed like this, as though he had forgotten what it was like to be addressed politely.

“If you don’t mind me asking, how… how’d you get out of Azkaban if you didn’t use Dark Magic?’

“ _Thank_ you!” Pettigrew gasped “Ju-“

“Oh shut it,” I snapped at him.

Black was frowning, trying to come up with some sort of answer.

“I don’t know how I did it,” Black answered carefully, “I think the only reason I never went mental is that I knew I was innocent. That wasn’t a happy though, so the dementors couldn’t take it from me… but it allowed me to know who I was… so I kept my magic. When I couldn’t… take the dementors anymore… I transformed into a dog in my cell. Dementors can’t see, they feel their way toward people by sensing their emotions… they could tell my feelings were less, less human, less complex when I was a dog… but they thought I was losing my mind like everyone else in there… but I was weak, very weak, and I had no hope of driving them away without a wand. But then I saw Peter in the picture… I realized he was at Hogwarts with Harry… meaning that Harry was in terrible danger, if he heard the Dark Side was gathering strength again… ready to deliver the last Potter to Voldemort… and he’d be welcomed back with open arms… So you see, I had to do something, I was the only person who knew Pettigrew was alive. It was as if someone had given me fire, and the dementors couldn’t take it away, because it wasn’t a happy feeling, it was obsession, so it gave me strength, cleared my mind. So one night when they opened my door to bring me food, I snuck past them as a dog – they couldn’t sense my emotions that way… I was thin enough to slip through the bars, and I swam back to the mainland as a dog… I journeyed north and slipped into the Hogwarts grounds as a dog, living in the forest, except coming up to watch Quidditch. You fly as well as your father did, Harry…”

Harry met Black’s gaze and I was now absolutely convinced, which shocked me.

“Please, Harry, believe me. I never betrayed James and Lily… I would have died rather than betray them… I wanted to die _for_ them, make Voldemort come after _me_ …”

Harry’s eyes flitted to mine for a second, before slowly, calmly, nodded.

“You’re too much like… you sound like Maggie when she talks about me, when you talk about my dad,” Harry responded calmly, “And she’d never, ever… betray me.”

“No!” Pettigrew fell to his knees, as though the nod had been his death sentence.

“It’s me… Sirius, it’s your friend… peter… you wouldn’t…” Pettigrew crawled to the foot of Black’s robes, begging. Black kicked out and Pettigrew recoiled.

“There’s enough filth on my robes without you touching them,” Black sneered.

“Remus… you don’t believe this… Wouldn’t Sirius have told you they changed the plan?” Pettigrew begged.

“Not if he thought I was the spy, Peter,” Lupin answered, “I assume that’s why you didn’t tell me, Sirius?”

“Forgive me, Remus,” Black responded.

“Not at all, Padfoot, old friend,” Lupin answered, “And will you, in turn, forgive me for believing you were the spy?”

“Of course,” Sirius grinned as they both rolled up their sleeves, “Shall we kill him together?”

“Yes, I believe so,” Lupin nodded grimly.

“You wouldn’t…” Pettigrew gasped, “You won’t…” he scurried over to Neville, “You wouldn’t let them kill me – you wanted to bring me back to Ron, you – you wouldn’t want to hurt anyone…”

Neville looked at him with intense disgust, “I can’t believe I was one bed over from you the whole year. I can’t believe I trained Trevor to _not eat_ _you_.”

Pettigrew turned to me, “Fire girl, angry girl, how could you believe them, when you’ve been so angry at Sirius all year?”

I flinched away from him and snarled, “Because I know a rat when I see one, and a loyal friend when I hear one, you monster.”

Pettigrew turned to Hermione and threw himself at the foot of her robes.

“Sweet girl, clever girl, you… you won’t let them… Help me…”

Hermione backed away from Pettigrew, looking horrified.

“Get away from her,” Harry snarled, stepping in between Pettigrew and Hermione, “Don’t _touch her_. Don’t you _dare touch her!_ ”

“Harry… Harry… you look just like your father… just like him…”

“HOW DARE YOU SPEAK TO HARRY? HOW DARE YOU FACE HIM? HOW DARE YOU TALK ABOUT JAMES IN FRONT OF HIM?” Sirius roared.

“Harry,” Pettigrew whispered, “James wouldn’t have wanted me killed… he would have shown mercy, Harry…”

Black and Lupin seized Pettigrew’s shoulders and threw him away from Harry.

“You sold James and Lily to Voldemort, do you deny it?” Black asked, shaking from head to foot with suppressed rage.

Pettigrew burst into tears, looking so pathetic it made me sick.

“Sirius, Sirius, what could I have done? The Dark Lord… you have no idea… he has weapons you can’t imagine… I was scared, Sirius, I was never brave like you and Remus and James, I never meant to do it… he forced me…”

“DON’T LIE!” Black roared, “YOU’D BEEN PASSING INFORMATION TO HIM FOR A YEAR BEFORE LILY AND JAMES DIED! YOU WERE HIS SPY!”

“He… he was taking over everywhere!” Pettigrew gasped, “W-what was there to be gained by refusing him?”

“WHAT WAS THERE TO BE GAINED?!” I roared, “INTEGRITY, MORALITY, YOUR FRIENDS ALIVE AND WELL!” I stepped forward up to Black and Lupin, filled with an intense fury.

“You don’t understand! He would have killed me! How could a child like you –“ Pettigrew insisted.

“SHE UNDERSTANDS THINGS A LOT BETTER THAN YOU EVER DID, PETER! YOU SHOULD HAVE DIED! DIED RATHER THAN BETRAY YOUR FRIENDS, AS WE WOULD HAVE DONE FOR YOU!” Black roared at the same decibel I had roared.

“What you should have realized, Peter, is that if Voldemort didn’t kill you, we would. Good-bye, Peter,” Lupin stated calmly.

Neville gritted his teeth, Hermione covered her face and turned to the wall, and I raised my wand in anger.

“NO!” Harry yelled. He ran forward and placed himself in front of Pettigrew, “You can’t kill him, you can’t.”

“Harry, this piece of vermin is the reason you have no parents – he would have had you die too, without even a second though. You heard him. His own stinking skin meant more to him than your whole family,” Sirius sneered.

“I know,” Harry responded, “We’ll take him up to the castle. We’ll hand him over to the dementors… He can go to Azkaban, but don’t kill him.”

“Harry!” Pettigrew gasped, “You – thank you – it’s more than I deserve –“

“Get off me,” Harry spat, throwing Pettigrew’s hands off him in disgust, “I’m not doing this for you. I’m doing it because I don’t reckon my dad would’ve wanted his best friends to become killers just for you. And, to be honest, I see the look in my cousin’s eye. If nothing else, I want to stop _her_ from becoming a killer.”

There was a very long pause as Black and Lupin studied each other, before finally lowering their wands. At Harry’s words I had pocketed mine in shame.

“You’re the one who gets to decide, Harry, but think… think of what he did…” Black whispered.

“He can go to Azkaban. If anyone deserves that place, it’s him,” Harry repeated.

“Very well. Stand aside, Harry,” Lupin ordered, “I’m going to tie him up.”

Harry moved out of the way and thin cords shot from Lupin’s wand, binding and gagging Pettigrew.

“But if you transform, Peter, we _will_ kill you, yes, Harry?” Black asked.

Harry nodded so Pettigrew could see him.

“Right,” Lupin stepped forward to Neville, “Neville, I can’t mend bones nearly as well as Madam Pomfrey, so I think it’s best if we just strap your leg up until we get you to the Hospital Wing.” He muttered something and bandages spun up Neville’s leg, strapping it tightly to a splint. Lupin helped him to his feet and he didn’t wince.

“Thank you,” Neville murmured.

“Two of us should be chained to Pettigrew, just to make sure,” Black stated.

“I’ll do it,” Lupin offered.

“And me,” I agreed calmly.

Black conjured heavy manacles from thin air, forcing Peter upright and chaining him to Lupin and to me. I wouldn’t let this traitor out of my sight, not for anything. Hermione helped Neville upright, and we all left the Shack together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The problem with not changing the past much is that the bulk of this chapter was transcribed directly from the source material. Sorry about that!


	25. Chapter Twenty - Four: June 9, 1994, Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Looking right, wishing we could rewind
> 
> Changing every wrong to right that you see
> 
> If you could, don't you think that you would
> 
> Make your world just like you want it to be
> 
> Now it's never too late
> 
> There's a will
> 
> There's a way
> 
> Gotta stay in the game
> 
> Go the distance
> 
> Cause you live and you learn
> 
> That it takes a lot of work
> 
> But you win in the end with persistence 
> 
> Mix it up, get it right 
> 
> Go for another try
> 
> But you run it back again 
> 
> Replay, hit rewind
> 
> This time you do it right
> 
> But you run it back again." 
> 
> ~ Corbin Bleu, "Run it Back Again"

Chapter Twenty-Four: June 9, 1994, Hogwarts

We all walked down to the grounds together, a rather eclectic group. Hermione was holding up Neville as Sirius and Harry lead the group. Every time Pettigrew got close to me I flinched away in disgust.

“You just keep yourself as far away from me as possible,” I hissed at him, “I don’t want your filth.”

Lupin kept pointing his wand at Pettigrew, which was why he kept trying to get closer to me. Ahead of us, Sirius and Harry had begun to talk to one another.

“You know what this means?” Sirius murmured, “Turning Pettigrew in?”

“You’re free,” Harry responded.

“Yes… But I’m also – I don’t know if anyone told you, but… I’m your godfather.”

“Yeah, I knew that,” Harry affirmed.

“Well, your parents appointed me your guardian, if anything happened to them… but I understand if you want to stay with your cousins,” Sirius interjected quickly.

“It would just be weird, to not live with Maggie,” Harry explained.

“Of course, of course. She seems to really care about you,” Sirius responded.

“But I do want to get to know you better – Aunt Melinda… never talks about my parents,” Harry explained.

“She isn’t good with the past, if I remember correctly. She can face a dark future and deal with a dangerous present, but she wants to forget and block out the past as much as possible. But I would love to visit… as much as she allows for me,” Sirius added.

“That would be great. Really,” Harry agreed, “Maybe I’ll even stay for a few days, for bonding time or something similar.”

“I would love that,” Sirius nodded.

 _Oh thank God. He’s not leaving_ , I thought in selfish relief. My life would just be… _too_ different if he didn’t live in the same house as me.

“One wrong move, Pettigrew,” Lupin warned as we reached the fields. The clouds overhead were extraordinarily thick as we continued on, approaching Hagrid’s Hut. But, slowly, a cloud shifted, causing dim shadows on the ground – it was a full moon.

Lupin next to me went rigid. His limbs were shaking violently. I felt my eyes widen in terror.

“Guys... Um… Professor Lupin is…”

“He hasn’t taken his potion!” Hermione gasped.

“Run,” Sirius whispered, “Run, now.”

Harry leapt forward to help as Hermione and Neville started to move away from us, but immediately stopped when they realized Harry was desperately trying to help me get free.

Sirius threw Harry back and roared, “LEAVE IT TO ME – _RUN!_ ”

Lupin’s head was lengthening, his body was following suit. His shoulders were hunching and hair was sprouting on his face and hands.

 _Well, this is fantastic. I’m about to become a werewolf. Now I’ll have TWO monthly problems to worry about_ , I thought grimly.

Sirius dropped down and became the giant dog. As Were-Lupin broke free of his manacles, Sirius seized him around the neck and pulled him backward from Pettigrew and me. I pulled out my wand and held it against Pettigrew.

“ _Don’t you dare move!_ ” I roared, frozen with terror myself at the two battling canines nearby. At one point, Sirius had lost Lupin and the werewolf sprinted towards me, making me _really_ frozen with terror. As Sirius knocked Lupin away from me, Pettigrew dived for Lupin’s lost wand, and whirled it on me. Before I could react, I was thrown backwards with a flash of light and fell to the ground. Everything was whirling around and I didn’t recognize anything I saw – everything was a strange color and blurred in front of my vision. I could hear, though – I heard the screams, the roaring and barking and howling of the canines, and frantic footsteps – though it was as if I was hearing all this through water. I couldn’t move, either – I was paralyzed, frozen into a board. My breathing was limited, and I wanted to look around wildly – but my eyes were frozen, too.

“Expelliarmus!” Harry shouted.

“No!” Neville roared.

“Sirius, he’s gone, Pettigrew transformed!” Harry continued a while later as a bright colorful blur passed over my eyes that I definitely knew wasn’t actually swimming in front of my vision.

“What did he do to her?” Hermione gasped.

“Is she okay? Is she alive? Is she –“ Neville panicked.

“Neville _calm down_ –“ Harry insisted.

“I NEVER BLOODY TOLD HER, HERMIONE, AND SHE’S GOING TO DIE –“

“She’s _not going to die_ , she’s alive, calm down Neville, _please_ ,” Hermione begged.

 _Told me what?_ I thought amongst a spinning rainbow and various wild animals swimming in my field of vision.

“We’re going to get her up to the castle and find someone to help,” Harry stated in a surprisingly calm voice, “Come –“

A whining filled the air, though I was still unable to process my visual sensory perception.

“Sirius,” Harry murmured. There was a pause, and then two sets of footsteps went sprinting away.

“Yeah, I’ll just stay with Maggie then… seems good,” Neville’s voice called after who I could only suppose was Hermione and Harry.

“You’ll be okay, Maggie. I promise. I won’t let anything hurt you,” Neville murmured softly. My heart strained as I couldn’t move my lips to respond. In fact, his voice was getting more and more muffled with these words, until I couldn’t make out anything he said afterwards and the colors stopped whirling in front of my vision and I just saw black.

The next thing I knew I was staring up at the face of Professor Snape.

“Professor – there was – and then – and he’s – I –“ I felt my eyes widen.

“I saw you all coming out from the Whomping Willow. I came down at once. I knew Lupin hadn’t taken his potion,” Professor Snape sneered.

“What happened – is everyone okay?” I asked hoarsely, sitting up and rubbing my eyes.

“Everyone’s fine,” Neville sighed, “Though not without trouble.”

“I had to stop the dementors from kissing your pathetic cousin and your friend,” Snape sneered, “ _And_ the criminal Black. Lupin’s out there somewhere trying to bite every human he finds in the forest.”

I opened my mouth to protest but Neville was shaking his head, “Don’t bother. I already tried to explain Sirius’ innocence, he won’t hear of it.”

“But Sirius Black _is_ innocent; it was Peter Pettigrew, he’s still alive but he got away – he’s a rat animagus, he…” I rambled.

“I think the spell Black casted on you has mangled your brains,” Snape sneered.

“Seriously, he’s innocent!” I insisted.

“I’ve been trying the whole time he’s been waking you up, Maggie, just stop,” Neville sighed.

“Mr. Longbottom is delirious from the pain in his leg,” Snape stated dismissively.

“ _Professor, he’s innocent, I know he is, you’ve got to believe me!_” I begged.

“That’s enough. You’re facing severe enough punishment for being out on the grounds at this time of night,” Professor Snape angrily hissed.

I hung my head and allowed him to help me up. Hermione, Harry, and Sirius were all on makeshift stretchers.

“If your mother knew I let you into this kind of danger…” Professor Snape groaned.

“It’s not your fault we all snuck out… why would mum be angry?” I asked as I helped Neville stumble up to the castle.

“Because all the things you’ve done since coming to Hogwarts she blames me for, for not watching you and stopping your shenanigans,” Snape sighed, “This will be fantastic.”

I remained silent as we limped up to Dumbledore’s office, Snape knocking on the door. Inside was the Minister of Magic as well as Professor Dumbledore.

“Professor Snape, what…” Professor Dumbledore began before all four eyes widened in amazement.

 _“Black?!_ ” the Minister gasped.

“What’s happened?” Professor Dumbledore demanded.

“To begin with, Sirius Black is innocent,” I insisted.

“Oh no – did the girl hurt her head?” The Minister asked.

“I would like to hear everyone’s story on the way to the Hospital Wing. Neville’s leg looks painful,” Professor Dumbledore ordered.

Professor Snape began describing his tale – of how a giant number of dementors had crowded around Harry, Hermione, and Sirius; how they were back at their posts by the time he reached them, how he knew the curse Pettigrew had used on me (though he was convinced it was Sirius who had hurt me,) and brought me to consciousness, and he brought us all up here.

I turned to Professor Dumbledore and, with Neville’s help, told our version of the story. At the end of it, the Minister was still unconvinced.

“I’m sorry, Miss Johnson, but as convinced as you are by your story, the amount of evidence against Black is insurmountable, and I…”

“Don’t believe me because I’m the daughter of a muggle-born, not white or completely British, a woman, and spend most of my time fighting against established prejudice?” I responded cattily.

Everyone stopped in their tracks outside the door to the Hospital Wing. The Minister looked shocked. Professor Dumbledore’s beard twitched, Professor Snape scolwed at me, and Neville covered his face with his hands.

“Miss Johnson, I am _astounded_ at your accusations – the curse Black placed on you must have muddled your senses,” the Minister stated in a strained, though calm, voice.

I remained silent at the slight look Professor Dumbledore gave me out of the corner of his eye. We got into the Hospital Wing and Madam Pomfrey immediately set about helping Neville with his leg, lamenting that he would have to stay in the wing overnight. She gave me a potion to help regain my senses (I still saw some rainbows in the corners of my eyes) and gave the three fainted people potions as well. She then gave a potion to Black to wake him up – though it wasn’t ideal and could hurt him; I suppose no one cared about his health. Not when he was about to receive the Dementor’s Kiss.

I was left to sit in the bed in the Wing, Neville next to me.

“I’m exhausted,” Neville groaned, “I want to sleep.”

“Then go to sleep,” I sighed.

“I can’t… They’re going to kill Sirius… essentially,” Neville buried his face in his hands.

“I know,” I whispered, “This is so bad, I can’t even…”

“First Buckbeak, now Sirius. I am officially disillusioned with the government,” Neville laid back in his bed, staring at the ceiling.

“It’s just horrifying,” I agreed, “I will _never_ work for them.”

“Me neither… but Gran doesn’t know any other respectable career…” Neville sighed.

I looked at him, sitting up rapidly and making my head spin, “What about teaching?”

“Huh?”

“You’re a genius at Herbology, Neville. You could take over for Sprout when she retires,” I suggested.

“Really? You think so?” Neville asked in amazement.

“I know so,” I managed to smile, before sighing, “I’m sorry, Nev, I can’t stop thinking about it, how awful it is.”

Voices could be heard outside the Hospital Wing. They were talking indistinctly, though part of that might be the remaining effects of the curse. But I did hear when they were closest to the door – Professor Snape and the Minister.

“Mr. Potter obviously thought he was going to catch Black single-handed, but I wouldn’t blame the girl, Minister. She’s easily brainwashed by the boy because she cares about him… she is one of the few students I’ve been sincerely impressed by at this school, especially from her house. I really wouldn’t take her angry outbursts seriously,” Snape stated calmly.

Neville looked at me with raised eyebrows and I sighed. I knew Snape was trying to save my butt, but at the same time I didn’t want the Minister thinking I was so easily brainwashed. Then he’d try and change me.

“Well, Snape, we _all_ have a soft spot where Potter’s concerned.”

“Is it good for him to get so much special treatment, though? I try to treat Potter like any other student… and any other student would be suspended for this behavior. His friends, maybe not, for I believe they were bullied into it by him… but him, certainly, for breaking all the precautions and rules put in place for _his_ safety…”

 _Even when Snape’s trying to save your neck he insults Harry. Dear God_ , I thought in annoyance.

“Well, we shall see Snape, the boy has undoubtedly been foolish, that I cannot argue with…” the Minister paused, “You really have no idea what made the dementors retreat?”

The voices trailed away into the distance and I scowled. I was trying my hardest not to think about what was about to happen with Sirius Black. Neville looked at me with similar despair etched into his features.

I looked over to Harry and Hermione and saw with a shock that their eyes were opened. I looked at them in amazement as Madam Pomfrey came over.

“Ah, you’re awake!” she declared, placing large bars of chocolate by their bedsides and breaking it apart with a hammer.

“How are Maggie and Neville?” Harry asked, looking up and seeing us, “Oh.”

“They’ll be fine. Miss Johnson will have dulled senses for a little while and Mr. Longbottom will need to stay overnight to heal, as you two will,” Madam Pomfrey explained, “I might as well keep Miss Johnson around for surveillance.”

“I need to see the headmaster,” Harry stated calmly, sitting up.

“Potter, it’s alright. They’ve caught Black, the dementors will be performing the kiss any moment now…” Madam Pomfrey explained.

“WHAT? MAGGIE, NEVILLE, DIDN’T YOU TELL THEM?!” Harry roared, standing on his feet now.

“They won’t believe us, Harry!” I sobbed.

“They dismiss our story, think we’ve been tricked by Sirius,” Neville sighed.

Hermione had jumped out of bed too just as Minister Fudge came in.

“Harry, I am Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic. Your Aunt must have talked about me… what _are_ you doing out of bed?” Fudge demanded of Harry, thinking they had never met before.

“Minister, please, listen to us! Sirius Black is innocent, I swear, Peter Pettigrew faked his own death because he sold out my parents – they switched, Black and Pettigrew switched – we saw him tonight, you can’t let the dementors kiss Sirius, you just _can’t_ –“ Harry rambled.

Fudge was shaking his head with a small smile, “Oh, Harry, you’re very confused, just like your cousin and your friend, you’ve been through an ordeal, it’s perfectly understandable, but don’t worry, we’ve got it all under control…”

“NO YOU HAVEN’T!” Harry roared, “YOU’VE GOT THE WRONG MAN!”

“Minister, please, please listen,” Hermione begged, “I saw him too, it was Ron’s rat, he’s an Animagus, Pettigrew, I mean, and…”

“You see, Minister? Black confounded all four of them, did a very good job…” Snape insisted.

“WE’RE NOT CONFUNDED!” Harry yelled.

“Sirius didn’t jinx us!” I insisted, “This is the truth!”

“Black is innocent, if you would only see!” Neville shouted.

“Please, Minister, I wouldn’t go against the facts, this is real!” Hermione begged.

“Minister! Professor! I must insist you leave. These students are my patients are you’re distressing them,” Madam Pomfrey protested.

“I’m not distressed, I’m trying to get them to see reason!” Harry snarled.

Madam Pomfrey stuffed a large chunk of chocolate into Harry’s mouth and he was pushed back onto the bed.

“Now, _please_ , Minister, the children need to be cared for. Please leave…”

Professor Dumbledore entered again, and Harry jumped to his feet again.

“Professor Dumbledore, Sirius Black –“

“For heaven’s sake!” Madam Pomfrey screeched, “Is this a hospital wing or not? Headmaster –“

“My apologies, Poppy, but I need a word with Mr. Potter, Miss Granger, Miss Johnson, and Mr. Longbottom. I have just been talking to Sirius Black and…”

“I suppose he’s told you the same poppycock he fed to these children?” Snape asked, “Something about a rat, and Pettigrew alive…”

“That is Black’s story,” Dumbledore responded calmly.

“And does my evidence count for nothing? Pettigrew wasn’t anywhere on the grounds,” Snape insisted.

“He transformed into a rat and ran away, Professor!” Hermione begged.

“Miss Granger, HOLD YOUR TONGUE!” Snape roared.

I stepped up to Professor Snape and glared at him angrily, “ _Do_ _not talk to Hermione that way._ ”

Hermione let out a squeak of surprise.

“Now, Snape,” Fudge interjected, “These children are disturbed, startled, distressed, we must make allowances for their behavior…”

Snape glared down at me, “And what will you do about it, Miss Johnson?”

“Tell. My. Mother,” I snapped.

Snape’s eyes widened as Professor Dumbledore stated, “I would like to speak to Harry, Hermione, Maggie, and Neville alone. Cornelius, Severus, Poppy – please leave us.”

“Headmaster, they need _rest_ …” Madam Pomfrey insisted.

“This cannot wait. I must insist, Poppy,” Dumbledore responded.

Madam Pomfrey retreated into her office, slamming the door behind him. Fudge left, muttering something about meeting the dementors. Snape left without a word, slamming the other door behind him. The moment they were all gone we all began badgering Dumbledore.

“Professor, Black’s telling the truth, we _saw_ Pettigrew…”

“Lupin turned into a werewolf and he escaped –“

“He’s a rat, he’s an animagus –“

“Pettigrew’s front finger was cut off and so was Ron’s rat’s –“

“Pettigrew attacked me, it wasn’t Sirius, I think I’d know –“

Dumbledore raised a hand for us to stop.

“You need to listen, and I beg you do not interrupt me, not even you Miss Johnson, there is very little time,” Dumbledore began, “There is not a shred of proof to support Black’s story except your word, and the word of two fourteen year old witches and two thirteen year old wizards isn’t going to convince anyone, no matter how many mysteries they’ve solved together. A street full of people are convinced they saw Sirius murder Pettigrew. I myself gave evidence that Sirius was the Potter’s Secret-Keeper…”

“Professor Lupin can…” Harry protested feebly.

“Professor Lupin is currently deep in the forest unable to communicate with anyone at all. By the time he is human again, Sirius will be worse than dead. And werewolves are mistrusted by most of our kind so that his support will count for very little, especially since he was friends with Black,” Dumbledore continued.

“But –“

“ _Listen to me._ It is too late, you understand? You must see that Professor Snape’s version of events is far more convincing than yours,” Dumbledore explained.

“But he _hates_ Sirius…” Hermione begged.

“Sirius hasn’t acted like an innocent man. The attack on the Fat Lady, entering Gryffindor with a knife… without Pettigrew, we have no chance of overturning Sirius’ sentence,” Dumbledore continued.

“But do you believe us?” I demanded.

“Yes, I do,” Dumbledore murmured, “But I have no power to make other men see the truth, or to overrule the Minister of Magic.”

We all looked at him and I felt like we had lost all hope. I had believed Dumbledore could produce a magic solution. But there was nothing.

“What we need,” Dumbledore explained calmly, looking at Hermione now, “Is more _time_.”

“But…” Hermione began, and then her eyes became very wide, “OH!”

“Now, pay attention,” Dumbledore continued, speaking low, quickly, and clearly, “Sirius is locked in professor Flitwick’s office on the seventh floor. Thirteenth window from the right of the West Tower. Your mother, Maggie, has been summoned to the castle and is currently waiting for me in my office. Her house will be made safe, a secret. If all goes well, you will be able to save more than one innocent life tonight. But remember – _you must not be seen._ Miss Granger, you know the law. You know what is at stake. _You. Must. Not. Be. Seen._ ”

Harry and I looked at each other in confusion.

“I am going to lock you in,” Dumbledore explained as he went up to the door, “It is five minutes to midnight. Miss Granger, three turns should do it. Good luck.”

Hermione turned to Neville, “I’m so sorry Neville, but you can’t walk. It’s got to be the three of us,” she then turned to Harry and me and was pulling out a very long, very fine gold chain from beneath her robes.

“I’m so confused,” I groaned as Hermione pulled Harry and me closer to her and threw the chain around our necks.

“What -?” Harry asked.

She pulled out a tiny, sparkling hourglass hanging from the chain and turned it three times. Then, suddenly, it felt like we were flying backward very fast. The world was zooming through my vision in a blur of colors and shapes, my ears were popping in annoyance, and I couldn’t seem to find my voice. And then I felt like I was standing solidly again, and the world came into focus. I was standing next to Harry and Hermione in the same triangle as before, present in the entrance hall in front of the open front doors. I looked at Hermione with my mouth open.

“Hermione, what…” Harry’s eyes were wide as he looked down at our friend.

“In here!” Hermione demanded, pulling Harry and me into a broom closet, slamming the door behind us. I felt very pressed up against the two of them, which was just awkward for me.

“What… happened?” I asked slowly.

“We’ve gone back in time,” Hermione whispered, “Three hours back.”

“What…” I looked at her like she was crazy.

“Shh! Listen!” Hermione hissed, “Someone’s coming – it’s probably us!”

She pressed her ear up against the cupboard door and listened, “Footsteps… yes, it’s us going down to Hagrid’s!”

“Are you saying, that we’re here in this cupboard, and out there too?” Harry asked slowly.

“Yes,” Hermione answered, “I’m sure it’s us, it doesn’t sound like more than four people… and we’re walking slowly because we’re under the Cloak… We’ve gone down the front steps…”

Hermione sat down on a bucket as we stared down at her.

“I’m sorry, but where’d you get the hourglass?” I asked calmly.

“It’s a Time-Turner,” Hermione hissed, “I got it from Professor McGonagall our first day back. I’ve been using it to get to all my lessons this year. Professor McGonagall made me swear I wouldn’t tell anyone; she had to write all sorts of letters to the Ministry so I could have one. She had to tell them I was a model student, and that I’d never, ever use it for anything except my studies… I’ve been turning it back so I could do hours over again, that’s how I’ve been doing several lessons at once, see? But... guys, I don’t know what Dumbledore wants us to do. Why did he make us go back three hours? How’s that going to help Sirius?”

“There must be something that happened now that he wants us to change…” Harry paused, “We were walking down to Hagrid’s three hours ago…”

“This _is_ three hours ago and we are currently walking down to Hagrid’s,” Hermione responded firmly.

“We’ve got to save more than one innocent life – Hermione, we’ve got to save Buckbeak!” I hissed.

“How… will that help Sirius, Maggie?”

“He just told us where the window is – we’ve got to get up there to Sirius! We’ve got to fly up there on Buckbeak! And then… he can use Buckbeak to go back to my mum’s house to hide out, that’s where they can escape, we live in the middle of nowhere, Dumbledore wants them to hide out there!” I realized, “That’s why he called my mum up the school, I’ve been in bigger scrapes than having a weird trippy curse put on me, he wants to explain to mum that Sirius is innocent and have her help him hide out!”

“But the Ministry could come and find him there…” Harry frowned.

“Our house will be made safe – Harry, he’s going to put our house under the Fidelius Charm, he’s going to protect Sirius with secret keeping, I’m sure of it,” I gasped.

“Alright, but this time, _Dumbledore’s_ the secret keeper,” Harry groaned.

“If we manage this without being seen, it will be a miracle,” Hermione sighed.

“We’ve got to try, haven’t we?” Harry declared, listening at the door, “Doesn’t sound like anyone’s there, come on.”

We left the closet and walked out into the entrance hall, sneaking through the front doors as quietly as we could. The sun was setting, the shadows were lengthening, and I grimaced in terror.

“If anyone’s looking out of the castle… Lupin!” Hermione realized, her eyes growing wide.

“He wasn’t here now – he didn’t see us going to Hagrid’s, he just saw us getting dragged under the Whomping Willow. We’re fine for now,” I hissed.

“And if someone else sees us, we run for it, straight into the forest,” Harry declared.

“Let’s just run for it anyway, to the forest behind Hagrid’s,” I suggested.

“We’ll have to go round behind the greenhouses, we can’t be seen by Hagrid’s front door now, we must be nearly there,” Hermione explained.

_My head hurts…_

We began sprinting through the grounds to the greenhouses, tearing across the vegetable patches, sprinting around the Whomping Willow and hiding out in the forest behind Hagrid’s Hut. We snuck closer and closer, trying to catch our breath, inching towards the hut as quietly as we could. We glimpsed the front of the hut at last, hearing a knock on the door.

“That’s us,” Hermione explained calmly.

“It’s us, under the Cloak,” I heard Harry – but it _wasn’t_ Harry, Harry was next to me, it was past Harry under the cloak, “Let us in and we can take it off.”

“Yeh shouldn’ve come!” Hagrid whispered, opening the door for us to enter.

“Well, this is weird,” I whispered to Hermione, now.

“Let’s move a little, we’ve got to get closer to Buckbeak,” Hermione ordered.

We crept through until we saw the hippogriff, tethered in Hagrid’s pumpkin patch. I still saw rainbows in my side vision but they were diminishing now.

“Now?” Harry whispered.

“No!” Hermione hissed, “if we steal him now, the Committee people will think Hagrid set him free and he’ll get into trouble!”

“You mean, we’ve got to wait until they’ve seen him? That will give us about a minute to untie him, Hermione!” I groaned.

There was a crash of dishes breaking inside Hagrid’s hut.

“Hagrid’s broken the milk jug… I’m going to find Scabbers soon…” Hermione whispered.

In a few seconds we could hear Hermione’s shriek.

“Hermione, what if we… just run in… grab Pettigrew…” Harry suggested.

“No! Don’t you see, Harry?” Hermione begged, holding onto his arm desperately, “We’re breaking one of the biggest Wizarding laws! Nobody’s suppoed to change time! You heard Dumbledore, if we’re seen…”

“We’ll only be seen by ourselves and Hagrid,” Harry protested.

“Harry, what would you do if you saw yourself bursting into Hagrid’s house?” Hermione asked.

“I was going mad, or some evil wizard was using polyjuice potion or something similar,” I answered.

“Exactly! You wouldn’t understand, and Maggie would _certainly_ attack herself, us too probably. Loads of people kill their future or past selves by mistake when they mess with time! It’s _dangerous_.”

“Okay, it was just an idea…” Harry sighed.

“I know, Harry, I _know_ , but we have to be careful,” Hermione murmured sadly, squeezing his wrist.

Suddenly, from the castle, we could see Dumbledore, Fudge, the Committee member, and Macnair coming down to the Hut.

“We’re going to come out now…” I stated.

Hagrid’s back door opened then and Harry, Hermione, Neville, and myself emerged with Hagrid. It was so freaking bizarre.

“How _long_ is my hair?” I whispered.

“Maggie, shush!” Hermione hissed.

“It’s okay, Beaky,” Hagrid murmured to the hippogriff, “It’s okay… Go on, get goin’,” he ordered.

“Hagrid, we can’t –“ Harry had begged.

“We’ll tell them about Malfoy and how much of a dirty, lying –“ I had hissed.

“This isn’t _right_ …” Neville had protested.

“They can’t kill him-“ Hermione had moaned.

“It’s so strange to hear what your voice sounds like to other people,” Harry murmured softly.

“Are our accents that thick?” I asked Hermione. She rolled her eyes in response.

“Go!” Hagrid was snarling, meanwhile, “It’s bad enough without you lot in trouble an’ all!”

The cloak was thrown over us and we disappeared from view.

“Go quick,” Hagrid ordered, “Don’ listen…”

There was a knock on Hagrid’s front door – the execution party had arrived. Hagrid turned back into his cabin leaving the back door ajar. The four of us left, going up to the Whomping Willow, while us three were stuck in the forest watching the back door.

“Where is the beast?” Macnair asked.

“Out… outside,” Hagrid answered in a shaky voice.

Macnair’s face appeared at Hagrid’s window and stared at Buckbeak, and then went back in.

“We – er – have to read you the official notice of execution, Hagrid. I’ll make it quick. And then you and Macnair need to sign it,” Fudge explained.

“Wait here,” I hissed, “I can do this.”

I darted out from behind the trees and moved towards Buckbeak, not blinking, bowing towards the hippogriff. Buckbeak sank to his knees and then stood up. I ran to the knot of the robe tying Buckbeak to the fence, fumbling with it with my fingers, finally untying it and pulling Buckbeak away from the post.

“Come _on!_ ” I hissed, “Buckbeak, _please_ , we’ve got to _move!_ ”

Buckbeak had dug himself into the pumpkin patch, unwilling to move, as the people inside Hagrid’s hut discussed the document. I heard Fudge suggest that Hagrid not come outside.

“ _Move, Buckbeak!_ ” I begged. Finally Buckbeak began to walk, and Dumbledore suddenly reminded Macnair to sign, so we still had time to scurry into the forest where we finally reached Hermione and Harry. They helped lead Buckbeak through the trees, away from Hagrid’s Hut, and I tugged at Buckbeak’s rope so he finally broke into a trot. We finally were out of sight, stopping in the woods.

“They might hear us,” I hissed, “Don’t move!”

Hagrid’s back door had opened loudly. We all stood quite still, and I saw to my amusement that in all the stress Hermione had grabbed Harry’s hand and was holding it so tightly her knuckles were white. There was a pause, and then suddenly, “Where is it? Where is the beast?” It was an older voice, the Committee member’s.

“It was tied here!” Macnair roared, “I saw it! Just here!”

“How extraordinary,” Dumbledore commented in amusement.

“Beaky!” Hagrid gasped.

There was a swishing noise and the thud of an axe – the executioner had swung it into the fence in anger. And then Hagrid began to howl, but now we could hear the words.

“Gone! Gone! Bless his li’le beak, he’s _gone!_ Musta pulled himself free! Beaky, you clever boy!”

Buckbeak, at the sound of Hagrid’s voice, started to strain against the rope to get back. Harry and Hermione grabbed onto the rope to help me keep him steady, digging our heels into the dirt.

“Someone untied him!” the executioner snarled, “We should search the grounds, the forest –“

“Macnair, if Buckbeak has indeed been stolen, do you really think the thief will have led him away on foot? Search the skies if you will… Hagrid, I could do with a cup of tea, or a large brandy.”

“O’ course, Professor. Come in, come in!” Hagrid was filled with immense joy.

We all listened closely as footsteps led away from the Pumpkin Patch or into the Hut, and silence finally fell over the area once again.

“Now what?” Harry asked anxiously.

“We’ll have to wait here,” Hermione sighed, “We need to wait until they’ve gone back to the castle. Then we wait until it’s safe to fly Buckbeak up to Sirius’ window. He won’t be there for another couple of hours… this will be difficult…”

The sun was now setting and I turned to the pair of them.

“We’re going to have to move, we have to see the Whomping Willow, know what’s going on,” I stated.

“Okay, but we have to keep out of sight, Maggie,” Hermione agreed.

We moved along the forest’s edge calmly as darkness filled up around us.

“Let’s hope no dragons decide to pop in,” Harry offered.

“Oh Merlin,” I groaned.

“There’s Neville,” Harry pointed as a dark figure could be seen diving after something, and the voice of Neville rang out shouting, “Scabbers – NO!” Meanwhile, another dark figure could be seen grappling with a large animal – Crookshanks and me.

“Ron – owes – me – big – time!” Neville roared as he sprinted after Pettigrew. I followed him, throwing Crookshanks back at Hermione and Harry who had just appeared from under the cloak.

“Guys, we’ve got to get back under the cloak!” Harry was hissing, “Forget the bloody rat!”

“And you were going to let Pettigrew get away,” I teased to present-Harry, who glared at me in the darkness.

Neville and I had both collapsed onto the ground and suddenly Sirius in dog form was bounding towards us, umping over Harry, grabbing Neville, dragging me and Neville away as I shouted, “NO!”

“This is so weird,” I whispered.

“It looks so painful, I feel bad for Neville,” Harry agreed.

“He’s a real trooper,” Hermione affirmed.

The Whomping Willow was attacking Hermione and Harry, and then suddenly the tree froze.

“That was Crookshanks pressing the knot,” Hermione explained to me, “The knot that freezes the tree.”

“And off we go,” Harry sighed, “We’re inside.”

A moment later, Dumbledore, Macnair, Fudge, and the Committee member were making their way up the castle.

“You’ve _got_ to be kidding me, if only Dumbledore had come with…” Hermione groaned.

“Yeah, with Macnair, whom Fudge would have ordered to murder Sirius on sight,” Harry grumbled.

“I’ve decided my life’s work will be to stage a coup against the Ministry,” I hissed.

“I might join you on that,” Harry agreed.

“Oh please, the Ministry is so corrupt and so entrenched…” Hermione scowled.

“It’s a pipe dream, but I’m clinging to it,” I snapped in response, “I can’t accept the fact the Ministry will remain corrupt forever. At any rate, I refuse to work for them.”

Moments later, Lupin was sprinting down into the passage, looking terrified.

“He really believed Sirius was bad,” Harry murmured.

“He looks really worried,” Hermione agreed.

Hagrid walked by a little time after that, singing loudly, a large bottle swinging in his hands as he practically danced through the grounds. Buckbeak struggled and we all forced him back from following Hagrid. When he went out of sight, Buckbeak’s head drooped in sadness so that my heart broke for the creature.

“We’ll have to invite Hagrid back to the house, show him Buckbeak’s okay…” I whispered to Harry.

“Maggie, he’ll want to take Buckbeak with him, and for now we need to keep him out of sight,” Harry responded, “The Ministry will probably check and make sure Hagrid doesn’t have the thing until they forget about it.”

“I _hate them_ ,” I responded venomously.

There was a slight pause.

“My question is – when Lupin expanded the view of the map, why didn’t he see that we were all in two places at once?” Hermione asked.

“We were really focusing on the Shack… and sometimes, we tend to ignore the things we don’t want to see,” I murmured.

There was a long pause as we sat there, waiting.

“I just have one question, Harry…” Hermione whispered, “Why didn’t the dementors get Sirius? I remember them coming… you weren’t there for that bit, Maggie… and then I passed out, there were so many…”

Harry frowned, looking out at the night sky, “A dementor was… trying to kiss me. But a large silver thing had come galloping across the lake and forced all the dementors back…”

“But what was it?” Hermione gasped.

“There was only one thing it could have been… a real Patronus, a powerful one,” Harry responded.

“But who conjured it?” Hermione asked.

Harry paused quietly. He was staring out into the distance, clearly thinking hard.

“Didn’t you see what they looked like?” Hermione demanded eagerly, “Was it one of the teachers?”

“No,” Harry responded calmly, “He wasn’t a teacher…”

“Did you see the animal? That could help – since the animal’s supposed to be like the person…” I asked.

“It was… it was a stag,” Harry responded.

 _Prongs…_ I felt my eyes widen, but Hermione didn’t understand what Harry was implying yet.

“It must have been a powerful wizard, to drive all those dementors away. If the Patronus was shining brightly, couldn’t you see him?” Hermione continued.

“Yeah, I saw him…” Harry responded slowly, “But… maybe I imagined it… I wasn’t thinking straight… I passed out immediately…”

“ _Who do you think it was_?” Hermione insisted.

I looked over at Harry, my face contorted in pity, “Did you think it was your dad, Harry?”

Harry looked back at me and nodded calmly.

“Harry… your dad… your dad’s dead,” Hermione whispered sadly.

“I know that,” Harry responded quickly.

“You think you saw his ghost?”

“I don’t know… no… he looked solid…”

“But then…” Hermione murmured.

“Maybe I was seeing things, but from what I could see… it looked like him. I’ve got photos of him…” Harry sighed.

“A stag patronus, though…” I commented.

“It still sounds crazy, I know,” Harry responded calmly, “But it was what I saw…” Harry stared off into the woods, thinking deeply. I had no idea what to think, but after the crazy events that had transpired this evening and were in the process of transpiring, I’d decided to suspend all belief.

I sat in the leaf litter of the forest, crunching the leaves in my hands and letting the pieces fall through my fingers, staring down at the dirt. So many unregistered Animagi – and they had done it without McGonagall’s help, together… And I was to follow in their footsteps… shouldn’t I tell Sirius about it, talk to him, ask advice? At this point I was almost finished with the potions and I was in the middle of noticing signs of what sort of animal I would become – I could talk loudly, roar really; I found myself much faster on my feet, almost like I was flying; and sometimes it felt like there was a fiery anger, even more fierce than my anger before, coursing through me. Oh, and I was always biting people. What _was_ I?

At last, after over an hour, we were emerging. Sirius and Harry lead the way, followed by Neville and Hermione, and then me, Pettigrew, and Lupin. Harry looked up at the sky and I realized what he was thinking about.

“We can’t, Harry, he’s going to escape, it sucks, but we can’t,” I murmured.

“I can’t _stand it_ ,” Harry groaned.

“We’ve got to help Sirius, we can’t do anything else,” Hermione insisted.

“ _Fine!_ ” Harry snapped, looking at us angrily. Upon seeing our hurt expressions, he muttered, “Sorry.”

“Lupin’s transforming…” Hermione murmured.

 _Shit_.

“Hermione, he’s going to run into the forest right at us!” I hissed, “We’ve got to _move!_ ”

“Oh no! Where are we going to go? Where are we going to hide, the dementors –“

“Back to Hagrids,” Harry stated frimly, “There’s no one there now, come on!”

We sprinted together, urging Buckbeak along, listening to the werewolf howling behind us. We reached the cabin and wrenched open the door, bolting the door behind us, Fang barking loudly at us.

“Shh, Fang, it’s us,” Hermione hissed, “That was close!”

“Yeah…” Harry seemed distracted. Buckbeak laid down for a nap as Harry continued, “I think I’d better go outside again, you know, I can’t see what’s going on – we won’t know when it’s time…”

We both looked at him suspiciously.

“I’m not going to try and interfere, but if we don’t see what’s going on, how’re we going to know when it’s time to rescue Sirius?”

“Alright then,” I answered, “We’ll wait here with Buckbeak, but be careful Harry, there’s a werewolf and dementors.”

Harry stepped outside and left. I turned to Hermione with a sigh.

“You realize this is completely mental, right?” I asked calmly.

“Yeah, I do,” Hermione answered in equal calmness.

I paused, staring down at my shoes, before looking back up at her, “Can I ask you something?  That’s inappropriately timed?”

“Sure.”

“Why Harry?”

Hermione’s eyes widened, and then she laughed loudly before covering her mouth in response to my question.

“I’m being serious, Hermione…”

“I know, sorry,” Hermione laughed, “It’s just so random. I feel like this _isn’t_ a conversation we should be having in Hagrid’s Hut while we wait to rescue a fugitive.”

“Fair enough,” I paused, “Can you at least give me a short version?”

“Short version? I can’t imagine being closer to any person than I am to Harry, so dating someone other than him just doesn’t make sense. Long version? That’ll be the specific reasons why I actually like _him_ and I’ll tell you when we have less pressing things on our minds,” Hermione stated.

“Fair enough,” I repeated, “Do you think we should go make sure Harry’s okay?”

Hermione sighed, standing up and pulling Buckbeak up with her, “I _always_ think we should make sure Harry’s okay.”

We scurried together over to the lake, to where the dementors were. We reached there, but we saw Harry standing at the edge of the lake, sending out a patronus – a stag.

“ _Idiot_ ,” Hermione hissed angrily as the stag went and dispersed all the dementors – so. Many. Dementors. – and ran back to Harry, vanishing under his outstretched hand. We ran up to him, Hermione fuming, but I simply amused.

“ _What did you do?_ ” Hermione hissed, “You said you were only going to keep a lookout!’

“He just saved your life, Hermione, and explained the mystery of Prongs,” I answered calmly.

“Let’s get behind a bush, quickly,” Harry ordered. We all hid again as Harry explained how he realized _he_ had conjured the patronus, it had been _him_ who he had seen earlier, and since he looked so much like his dad he thought he _was_ his dad. Hermione’s mouth was open in amazement.

“I can’t believe it – you conjured up a Patronus that drove away all those dementors… that’s very, very powerful magic…”

“I knew I could do it this time, because I’d already done it… does that make sense?” Harry asked.

“Kinda… Look, Snape’s coming!” I hissed.

Snape was walking over to Sirius, Hermione, and Harry, conjuring stretchers and lifting the three of them onto them. Then he walked over to Neville, and they had a very loud discussion in which Neville tried to explain about Black and Snape was having none of it, insulting Neville frequently. Snape then woke me up and, despite my protests, forced us to follow him up to the castle.

“Alright, it’s nearly time,” Hermione stated, looking at her watch, “We’ve got about forty-five minutes until Dumbledore locks the door to the Hospital Wing. We’ve got to rescue Sirius and get back to the ward before anyone realizes we’re missing.”

We waited, wondering whether or not Sirius was up there yet, Buckbeak digging around for worms behind us.

“Look!” Hermione gasped, pointing at a person coming out of the castle, “Someone’s coming!”

The man was running across the ground, something glinting in his belt – the metal of an axe.

“Macnair!” Harry gasped, “He’s gone to get the dementors! It’s time!”

I jumped onto Buckbeak’s back and helped Harry onto it behind me. Hermione came on last with the help of Harry, holding tightly to his waist. I could see when I looked behind that her face was flushed at this, but Harry didn’t notice. I tried to contain my ill-timed amusement as I urged Buckbeak forward with my heels, whispering for him to fly. His powerful wings flapped and we took off into the air.

“This is bizarre,” Harry whispered.

“Oh, I _really_ don’t like this,” Hermione moaned.

I urged Buckbeak forward, reveling once again in the feel of the natural flight as we soared around the upper floors of the castle, counting the windows as they flashed past us. When we reached the right window, I pulled back madly, stopping Buckbeak and we hovered outside of the window.

“He’s there!” Harry gasped, pointing at Sirius. I urged Buckbeak closer to the window and Harry tapped on the glass. Black looked up and his jaw dropped in shock, leaping from his chair, trying to open the window, but it was locked.

“Stand back!” Hermione called, and she pulled out her wand, whispering, “ _Alohomora!_ ” The window sprang open and Black leaned out.

“How… How…” Black whispered.

“Get on, there’s no time to explain,” I hissed. Black managed to hoist himself through the window frame and onto Buckbeak and just managed to fit behind Hermione.

“Alright Buckbeak, up! Up to the tower, come on!” I urged. We rose up to the top of the West Tower. Buckbeak landed on the battlements, and we three slid off him immediately.

“Sirius, do you know where my mum’s house is? The Nest, in the woods?” I asked urgently. He nodded mutely.

“Go there and hide in the woods nearby. Dumbledore wants you to hide out with us,” I ordered, “But I don’t know yet if he’ll be able to persuade mum of your innocence – I feel he’ll be able to – at any rate, hide out there until someone comes looking for you, Mum or Dumbledore or me or Harry or someone. Alright?”

Sirius nodded.

“You’d better go, they’ll find out you’re gone soon,” Harry murmured.

“What happened to Neville?” Sirius croaked.

“He’s going to be okay, his leg’s just hurt so he couldn’t come along,” Hermione explained, “Quickly, Sirius, _go_.”

Black stared down at us in amazement, “How can I ever thank…”

“GO!” we all shouted.

Black wheeled Buckbeak to the open sky, “Well, with any luck… see you all soon.”

He then took off into the air, they were flapping away to the moon, taking off into the air and then they were gone.

“We’ve got twenty two minutes to get back down to the hospital wing!” Hermione murmured, “Come on!”

We all sprinted down the staircase, running through the corridors. We dashed through passageways I knew because of the Twins, sneaking along and managing to not be noticed until we finally reached the door to the Hospital Wing, one minute before he was going to lock the door. He backed out and turned to us, a wide smile appearing under his beard.

“Well?” he asked quietly.

“We did it!” Harry gasped, “He’s on his way to Aunt Melinda’s…”

“Well done,” Dumbledore praised, “I will go explain to Melinda everything once the outrage has settled down. She’s very anxious but she knows not to leave my office… and you’ve gone now, yes, you may go back in.”

We slipped back inside the Hospital Wing. Neville was sitting upright, looking at us in shock.

“Alright, someone explain to me how you did that,” he demanded.

Madam Pomfrey came out before any of us could explain, making sure we ate chocolate, lying down back against our beds. Neville looked so confused, I felt bad. Suddenly, there were voices outside of the door.

“What was that?” Madam Pomfrey asked in confusion.

There were angry voices, growing louder and louder. Neville looked at me in confusion and I simply grinned back at him.

“Really, they’ll wake everyone up! What…” Madam Pomfrey frowned.

“He must have disapparated, Severus. We should have left somebody in the room with him. When this gets out…”

“HE DIDN’T DISAPPARATE! YOU CAN’T APPARATE OR DISAPPARATE INSIDE THIS CASTLE! THIS – HAS – SOMETHING – TO – DO – WITH – POTTER!” Snape roared.

“Severus, be reasonable, Harry has been locked up…”

The door of the hospital wing burst open, and Fudge, Snape, and Dumbledore entered. Dumbledore looked calm and rather pleased. Fudge was angry, and Snape was a wreck.

“OUT WITH IT, POTTER!” Snape bellowed, “WHAT DID YOU DO?”

“Professor Snape, control yourself!” Madam Pomfrey ordered.

“See here, Snape, be reasonable. This door’s been locked, we just saw…” Fudge explained.

“THEY HELPED HIM ESCAPE, I KNOW IT!” Snape howled, pointing at us all. I looked at him furiously.

“Calm down, man!” Fudge barked, “You’re talking nonsense!”

“HE DID IT, I KNOW HE DID IT!” Snape screamed.

“That’s enough, Severus,” Dumbledore ordered quietly, “Think about what you are saying. This door has been locked since I left the ward ten minutes ago. Madam Pomfrey, have these students left their beds?”

“Of course not!” Madam Pomfrey agreed,” I would have heard them!”

“Well, there you have it, Severus,” Dumbledore stated, “Unless you are suggesting Harry, Hermione, and Maggie are able to be in two places at once, I’m afraid I don’t see any point in troubling them further.”

Snape stood there seething, not looking at me and my anger at him on purpose. Fudge was completely shocked at Snape’s behavior. Snape finally whirled around and left the ward.

“Fellow seems unbalanced… I’d watch out for him, Dumbledore…” Fudge frowned.

“Oh, he’s not unbalanced. He’s just suffered a severe disappointment,” Dumbledore explained.

“He’s not the only one! The _Daily Prophet’s_ going to have a field day –“

“Really sucks, doesn’t it?” I asked calmly, “That’s all that matters, isn’t it? Public opinion?”

Fudge looked at me, seemingly trying to restrain himself, before whirling in a similar fashion as Snape and stomping out of the room. I smirked and sat back against my bed. Dumbledore shook his head in quiet amazement.

“The dementors will be removed at last, I assume, Professor Dumbledore?” Madam Pomfrey asked.

“Thank Merlin, yes. They attacked an innocent student; Fudge hasn’t a leg to stand on,” Dumbledore responded, “At any rate, I’m going to go talk to Maggie’s mother, I’m sure she’s very distressed right now. Good night, all.”

Madam Pomfrey then headed back to her office in a huff. When the door was closed, I turned and explained everything to Neville as Hermione and Harry sat there, providing things I missed.

When I finished, I sat back in my bed, frowning.

“Guys, we have to promise ourselves one thing,” I stated in a calm voice.

“Oh?” Harry asked.

“We never, _ever_ , tell Ron he showed affection to a mass murderer for years,” I ordered.

We all laughed together for a long time before nodding in agreement and going to bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song choice for this chapter was cheesy, but necessary! Let me know what you think!


	26. Chapter Twenty-Five: June 10 – End of Term, 1994, Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Tomorrow will be kinder
> 
> It's true, I've seen it before
> 
> A brighter day is coming my way
> 
> Yes, tomorrow will be kinder."
> 
> ~ The Secret Sisters, "Tomorrow Will Be Kinder".

Chapter Twenty-Five: June 10 – End of Term, 1994, Hogwarts

The next morning we were finally released from the hospital wing and summoned down to Professor Dumbledore’s office. We headed down together calmly, avoiding the bulk of our classmates, and knocked on the door.

Professor Dumbledore was inside, and so was my mother.

“Hello Mum,” I greeted cheerfully.

“Do you have _any idea how much trouble you are in young lady_?” my mother screeched, getting to her feet in fury.

“I think I have a funny idea based on the urgency in your voice,” I responded calmly.

“You endangered your _life_ , you endangered your _cousin’s life_ , you made life very difficult for a lot of people, you increased the Minister’s suspicion of you and probably jeapordized my job!” Mum roared.

“Melinda, _calm_ yourself,” Dumbledore begged.

She took a deep breath and ran her hands through her hair, pulling at it.

“I just don’t understand _why_ you would talk back to the Minister. Fine, go out at night to comfort Hagrid – I can’t argue with that. Fine, listen to the story of a convicted felon and realize his innocence – even I had to agree with Dumbledore’s story, seeing as I _never_ thought Black would join the Dark Side and Lily _had_ said they had changed their mind about their secret keeper, but I just thought they had changed it back. Fine, save the convicted felon and bring him back to my house even though we hate each other. But _talking back to the Minister of Magic? My boss?_ It’s hard enough for me in there being muggle born, now I… I… I’m just glad you’re okay,” Mum finally sighed, looking at me sadly and pulling me into a hug, “I was so terrified when Albus sent me his patronus and… and… why must you always get yourself into dangerous situations?”

“Because I like to solve problems bigger than myself?” I suggested with a skewed smile.

Mum rolled her eyes and pushed me out of the impromptu hug, sighing.

“Is it going to be like this _every_ year?” Mum asked.

“Yeah. I think it is,” I beamed.

“Merlin. And Harry! I can’t believe how irresponsible you were. I expect this stuff from Maggie, but… I suppose I should expect it from you as well,” Mum groaned.

Harry frowned and looked down at his feet, before looking up.

“So are you going to let Si- Padfoot stay with us?” Harry asked.

“Well, I feel I have no choice. But you kids brought the incessant fighting down on yourselves,” Mum rolled her eyes.

“At least we’ll know what to expect,” I joked. Mum glared at me and I stopped grinning immediately.

“I’ll see you kids when you come home. Also, Neville, Hermione – the Quidditch World Cup is this summer. I plan on asking your parents to for you to come and stay since I can probably swindle two extra tickets for it, if I still am a diplomat by then… I hope that you can,” Mum smiled, “I’ll write your folks later on.”

“Thank you Mrs. Johnson,” Hermione beamed.

“Yeah, thanks,” Neville smiled too.

“Alright, I have more to discuss with Professor Dumbledore. I will see you later,” Mum dismissed and we all walked down through the corridor.

“Where to next?” Hermione asked cheerfully.

“Hagrid’s Hut?” Neville suggested, “I want to see how happy he is with Buckbeak free.”

“I like that plan,” Harry agreed. We walked down the castle steps, reaching the front doors to the school without trouble, and walked outside without anyone trying to stop us. We walked across the grounds and reached the Hut cheerfully.

Hagrid was already outside, singing to himself as he watered the pumpkins in the pumpkin patch. We all walked over to him and he turned to us, beaming.

“Harry! Hermione! Maggie! Neville!” he greeted, “Know I shouldn’ feel happy, after wha’ happened las’ night an’ all – I mean, Black escaped again an’ everything. But guess what? _Guess what!_ ” Hagrid greeted eagerly.

We all tried to hide our expectation as we answered in unison, “What?”

“Beaky! He escaped! He’s free, out in the forest or somewhere, but he got away! Bin celebratin’ all night I ‘ave!” Hagrid cheered happily.

“That’s wonderful!” Hermione beamed.

“Yeah, I must’ve not tied him up properly,” Hagrid continued, “I was worried this mornin’, o course… thought he mighta met Professor Lupin on the grounds, but Lupin said he never ate anythin’ las’ night…”

“What are you talking about?” I interjected quickly, panic filling me that he knew that we knew about Lupin’s condition.

“Blimey, yeh haven’ heard?” Hagrid stopped smiling slightly, “Ah… Snape told all the Slytherins this mornin’… thought everyone’d know by now, yeh see… Professor Lupin’s a werewolf... an’ he was loose on the grounds last night… he’s packin’ now, o’ course.”

“He’s _packing_? Why?” Harry demanded, looking at Hagrid in alarm.

“Leavin’, isn’ he?” Hagrid responded, surprised that Harry didn’t understand immediately, ‘Resigned firs’ thing this mornin’. Says he can’t risk it happenin’ again.”

Harry got to his feet and, without another words, sprinted back to the castle. I made a move to follow him, as did Hermione, but Neville held us back.

“Let him go,” Neville murmured, “He’s not going to be happy about this… none of us are.”

“Course,” I sighed, “I’m going to the Common Room… see you all later.” I got up and left the three of them alone in the pumpkin patch, heading back up to Gryffindor Tower. Lupin resigning had put me in a foul mood and I needed someone other than my three best friends to take me out of it – someone who hadn’t nearly gotten their best friend’s godfather free from police persecution and had it slip through their fingers the night before.

I reached the tower and came face-to-face with George.

“Hey Maggie,” George looked at me in amusement, “Where’ve you been? I haven’t seen you in the Common Room since you found out about Buckbeak…”

“ _That_ is the definition of a long story,” I paused, _and no one told me not to tell you…_ “What are you up to now?”

“I was going to go to Hogsmeade… I suppose you can’t…” George frowned.

“I think they’ll let me – Dumbledore, at any rate, will,” I laughed, “If you want, we can sneak through the passageway though.”

“If you think Dumbledore will let you, then let’s try the legal way,” George grinned, “Would this be our first date at last?”

“I reckon it will,” I felt myself flush red, “Let’s go.”

We walked back down to Professor Dumbledore’s office and I gave the password, which he was surprised I knew, and knocked on the second wooden door. Dumbledore opened the door and smiled down at me.

“Miss Johnson! What a pleasant surprise! I didn’t expect to see you so soon, and I was just about to leave to escort Professor Lupin off the grounds… Is it important?”

“Um… I was wondering, if I could go to Hogsmeade now,” I asked calmly.

My mother appeared behind Dumbledore rolling her eyes, “Alright, Dumbledore, Maggie and Harry have my position now. After all… it’s all quite pointless.”

“Wonderful Melinda,” Dumbledore smiled, “I will speak to you later. Goodbye, Miss Johnson, Mr. Weasley,” and he walked down the staircase, leaving me with George and my mother. What an awkward situation.

“Who is this, Maggie? I know we’ve met before, but there are so many Weasleys I lose track,” Mum asked, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

“Ah… Mum, this is George. George, this is my mum,” I introduced, flushing red again.

George’s face went as red as his hair and he extended an arm, mumbling, “Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Johnson.”

Mum raised an eyebrow, “Right, one of the twins. Good to see you again, George.”

“Good to see you too,” George was still red and I wanted to help him escape, but I knew it wouldn’t be easy.

“So you’re one of the people I get to blame for my daughter’s increased troublemaking ways?” Mum continued.

“Yeah, I suppose,” George could have had steam coming out of his ears at this point.

Melinda looked at us again and then stated calmly, “Well, enjoy yourselves in Hogsmeade. I’m sure I’ll be seeing a lot of you this summer… if my assumptions at the fact that the two of you are here, asking for Maggie’s ability to go to Hogsmeade, without Fred, are correct.”

George looked like he wanted to sink into the floor and I felt much the same way.

Melinda walked past us and on her way down the steps she shouted, “My husband will want to speak to you when you first come to our house, Mr. Weasley.”

“Yes ma’am,” George responded. We waited until we heard the entrance to the office close and we looked at each other, both still red in the face.

“Well, that was wonderfully awkward,” I finally said, “Shall we?”

George nodded and his hand found mine, making my now paler face turn red again as we walked out to Hogsmeade, Filch grumbling as I passed but unable to make any sort of protest as my mother had walked by him moments before.

We reached Hogsmeade and George turned to me, his hand still holding mine, our fingers intertwined.

“So, what do you want to do? Do you want to go to Zonko’s again, or to Honeydukes, or the Three Broomsticks under my very very careful supervision, or…” George’s voice trailed off into the distance.

“Three Broomsticks. I want to tell you about my adventures from last night in particular, but if you want to hear the first-hand accounts of first and second year I might be able to fit them in,” I smiled awkwardly.

“I’d love that,” George beamed, “And you pace yourself on the Butterbeer.”

“What, you _don’t_ want my inhibitions lowered?” I quoted Fred, making George roll his eyes.

“How is Fred doing, by the way?” I asked as we walked towards the pub, “With all of this, I mean.”

“He’s coming to terms with it… he just doesn’t want you to hate us if this goes wrong. Well, really, he doesn’t want you to associate him with me even though we look identical because it won’t have been _him_ who you dated and everything,” George rambled.

“He’s so convinced this is going to end in flames?” I asked sadly.

“He’s convinced that things go wrong, which I can’t blame him for. At any rate, he has a right to be concerned, as anything that happens with us will undoubtedly affect him. So you’re going to have to make a lot of promises to him if this… becomes… serious,” George spluttered in embarrassment.

“Fair enough, I will,” I smiled weakly as we entered the pub and sat down at a table, George ordering two butterbeers and two sandwiches. I sipped mine slowly and George looked at me expectantly.

“Last night first?” I asked.

“Please,” George laughed.

“Well, Harry, Hermione, Neville and I all snuck out to Hagrid’s Hut to comfort him before Buckbeak’s execution… he kicked us out, but not before… before… can you keep a secret?” I graoned, realizing I had to ask for the secret _at this point_.

“Of course I can,” George looked outraged.

“From Ron?”

George frowned, “The statement applies especially to Ron.”

“From… From Fred?”

“Really?” George looked shocked, “From Fred, too?”

“I’m just not sure I should be telling _anyone_ this, and I know you tell him everything but he could tell Ron and word could get out, and it would be bad, but you’re going to have to find out anyway if you’re going to visit me this summer and everything, and you deserve to know the truth b-because of this whole… thing and it’s very complicated but I don’t want you going around telling people,” I rambled.

“Alright,” George consented, “No telling Fred.”

“You’re a saint,” I beamed.

George flushed red, “Thanks Maggie… Alright, continue.”

“Well, we found Scabbers,” I sighed.

“You’re kidding. I was hoping the rodent would be gone for good… did you give it back to Ron?” George asked.

“Nope,” I sighed, “I wish we still had the evil little… I’m getting ahead of myself.”

“I’ll say,” George smiled a little, though it was clear he was confused, “Though why that rat could be so venomously evil I can’t wait to know.”

“Well we found Scabbers. Anywho, we snuck out of Hagrid’s Hut so that the Minister and the others going down to the execution couldn’t see us, we were under the Cloak after all, and…” I continued on through the story, up to the part where I was being dragged away with Neville.

“Why’d you dive after him?” George asked, confused, “You didn’t have to go through all that dirt and everything…”

“I couldn’t just let a giant dog take away one of my best friends!” I gasped, “Really, I would have done the same for Fred – d-definitely for you…”

“Alright,” George smiled, “I understand. I admit that would be terrifying.”

“It was horrific,” I sighed, continuing and getting to the part about Sirius Black.

“ _What?!_ ” George hissed, following suit in my lowered voice at the bringing up of Black, “I heard he got away again but – but – are you alright? He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

“No, I’m fine,” I smiled.

“How can you be _smiling_ , you had an encounter with a horrific mass murderer!” George groaned. He was holding my hand very tightly and it was actually borderline painful now.

“While I can’t deny the truth of that statement…” I grinned, “It all ended up okay, for the most part.”

“I’m so confused. Continue,” George sighed.

So I talked about fighting Black, Lupin’s appearance, the map, and seeing Peter Pettigrew on it.

“That’s not possible…” George frowned, “Pettigrew’s dead, and the map never lies.”

“Oh, Pettigrew’s alive. Actually, yesterday evening made me call into question your mastery of the map, but we’ll get to that in a moment,” I laughed. So I explained about the Great Explanation, the explanation of Sirius’ innocence. George stayed silent the whole time as I went through everything: Lupin’s werewolf-ness; James and Sirius wanting to help him out and becoming animagi with Pettigrew; the Map and exploring the ground; the trick on Snape; finally Black initially being the secret keeper but then switching at the last second to Pettigrew; Pettigrew selling Black out and faking his own death. I paused at the finish of the explanation..

“And… and you believe all that?” George raised an eyebrow in skepticism, “I mean… I don’t want to hurt your feelings or anything, but…”

“Well,” I laughed, “Seeing Pettigrew alive and hearing his confession pretty much drove it home.”

“How’d you find Pettigrew?” George frowned.

“Remember? He’s an animagus,” I laughed. I then explained about Scabbers and how Sirius had broken out to find Pettigrew, knowing Pettigrew was Scabbers. I then described how the rat was transformed into Pettigrew before my eyes.

“You’re… kidding,” George looked dumbstruck.

“Nope. My question here, is,” I laughed, “How did you _not_ notice your brother was sharing a bed with a man named Peter Pettigrew for three years?”

“Honestly, we never look at the dormitories… we were just focusing on memorizing the castle… and…” George was frowning, “Now that you mention it…”

“Yes?” I grinned.

“Second year… Percy had the rat before Ron, you know… we saw that he had a bloke named Peter in his bed… Well, back then we didn’t know the name of the wizard Black had killed, so we just… kind of ignored it, we didn’t want to worry mum about Percy’s sexual experimentation… so after that we made a policy to just not look in the dormitories for the privacy of our fellow students… And we never, ever say the name Peter around Percy, that’s the only reason I remember the name of the bloke, is because Fred and I vowed to not bring him up for Percy’s own sake… And because we never looked in the dorms again we didn’t see that Ron had the same bloke in his bed… Merlin…” George’s eyes were wide, “He _was_ Peter Pettigrew…”

“Yep,” I laughed, “Well, Percy’s not bisexual – or at least, not definitely bisexual - I expect that confuses your perceptions a bit.”

“Just a bit,” George still looked shocked and was staring off into the distance, “Erm, continue…”

So I then continued about how Peter eventually confessed to it, groveling at our feet, and Harry decided to bring him up to the castle to be thrown into Azkaban. I then explained about how Lupin, Pettigrew and I were all chained up as we walked outside, just for the moon to appear from behind the clouds.

“ _No!_ ” George gasped, his hand now practically cutting off the circulation of mine, “Are you okay? Lupin didn’t get you, did he?”

“I’m fine, I just was the recipient of a spell with very drug-like symptoms,” I then explained Sirius fighting Lupin as a dog, Pettigrew escaping after cursing me, and my blacking out while the dementors attacked. I then went into explanation of how no one but Dumbledore would believe us.

“And this is where it gets _really_ weird,” I transitioned into the time-turner, explaining our escapades with that – freeing Buckbeak, Harry stopping the dementors, and flying up to rescue Black and sending him back to my house to hide out as a refugee.

“And then we woke up this morning,” I finished.

George was shaking his head in shock, “Your life is just… just… mental.”

“So you believe me? About Black and everything?” I asked desperately.

“ _Course_ I do,” George affirmed, “I _remember_ Peter, don’t I? And I don’t think you could be _so_ thoroughly confunded. And it explains why your mum was here – I mean, she had to be prepared for Sirius’ arrival, didn’t she? Just… promise me you won’t tell Ron he’s been sharing a bed with an evil little man.”

“We already decided this,” I laughed.

“Fantastic,” George nodded, “And I won’t tell Fred. I promise… I will need to know, I agree completely, because I _will_ be visiting this summer, but he doesn’t…”

“If he wants to visit, then we tell him at my house. I don’t want to risk too many people hearing,” I whispered, “And from now on, we call Sirius Padfoot.”

“I can’t believe they’re the marauders, now that you bring that up,” George was grinning, “They’re an _inspiration_. I can’t wait to talk to him about pranking and the school and it’s mysteries – seriously, I’ve looked up to the four of them since I was a first year.”

“Me too,” I laughed.

“Now just three of them are worth mention but I’m still excited for that,” George beamed, then looked down at our long-empty goblets and plates, “Let’s go?”

“Sure,” I smiled and we left the pub, walking through the streets of Hogsmeade together hand-in-hand again. His grip on mine had loosened considerably from the death grip it had been in before.

“So, second year? The whole business with the spiders, snakes, and dragons?” George teased as we walked to Zonko’s.

“Oh come on, I can’t be expected to spill all my secrets on the first date,” I teased, “Tell me about _your_ escapades.”

“Maggie, you _know_ them all,” George smiled a little, “Fred and I are the kings of bragging about these things, especially to you.”

“Well, tell me something I don’t know about you,” I suggested, “I can’t monopolize the entire date.”

“Fair point,” George frowned, “How’s this – and this is something that Fred and I don’t share, either – I have a slight fear of toads.”

“You’re _kidding_ ,” I laughed, “Why?”

“The texture of their skin just gives me the creeps,” George shivered, “It’s just so weird and foreign. I don’t like the way they look, either. Fred thinks I’m mental, but I don’t criticize him for _his_ fears. And don’t ask me what they are, I’ve been sworn to secrecy.”

“I accept that,” I smiled, “Have you ever interacted with a toad?”

“Loads of them,” George nodded, “And every time I just want to get _rid_ of the thing.”

I giggled but smiled up at him, “Well, we all have our irrational fears. I’m sure yours has a good reason behind it.”

“Thanks,” George looked sincerely touched as we reached the area near the Shrieking Shack and looked up at it together.

The rest of the time we exchanged the little details of our lives – favorites and least favorites, for the most part. I discovered that his least favorite color was pink, while his most favorite was green. He discovered that I couldn’t stand too much standing water – rain was okay, but I hated swimming. We talked for hours about this pointless stuff, sitting out in the warm grass next to the no-longer-threatening Shrieking Shack. Eventually the sun began to set, but I didn’t want to leave. We were sitting next to each other; I curled up underneath his arm and his head resting on top of mine. I deeply enjoyed feeling the warmth of his cheek against my hair, and his thumb gently rubbing circles into my hand.

“Well,” George paused, “We should get back.”

“Which sucks,” I responded sadly, looking down at the grass.

“I take it you had fun then?” George asked, helping me up from the grass and walking down the Hogsmeade street with me back to the castle.

“Course I did… did you? Despite my endless rambling,” I stammered.

“Of course,” George responded in kind as we reached the gates and continued up to the doors, “I almost feel like that’s a silly point.”

“I kind of agree with you,” I smiled as we walked into the castle and up to the Gryffindor Common Room, “Fred’s going to be angry that this is lasting longer than one hand-holding expedition.”

“Eh, he’ll get over it,” George grinned down at me as we reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, leaning down and kissing me on the cheek. I felt my entire face flush bright red and he chuckled at me, giving the portrait the password and us entering the Room. Harry was sitting there, playing chess with Hermione as Neville tended one of his plants. Fred walked over to us, his smile strained but clearly genuine.

“You kids had fun then?” Fred teased.

“Definitely,” George answered calmly.

“Alright then, I officially give up,” Fred nodded, “Now you’ve monopolized enough of his time, Maggie. I need to discuss business with him.”

“Be my guest,” I gave his hand a squeeze and turned back to take my usual seat at the four-person table. Neville didn’t say anything, but Harry and Hermione looked up from their chess game.

“How’d it go?” Hermione asked in a teasing voice.

“Very well, thank you,” I smiled, before lowering my voice, “I had to… to tell him all about… yesterday, so when he comes over this summer he doesn’t immediately call the dementors. I’m sorry.”

“We kind of expected it,” Harry answered calmly, “So long as you swore him to absolute secrecy.”

“He promises to tell no one, not even Fred,” I agreed.

“Good,” Harry paused, “I’ll be giving him a little lecture on not hurting you tomorrow.”

“Have fun,” I grinned, “How was… How was Lupin?”

“Well, he’s gone,” Harry sighed sadly, “He explained that no one will want to have their child taught by a werewolf and he found himself agreeing with them… but we’ll see him again. He’ll stop by to check up on Padfoot.”

“Well that’s good. Anything else I should be caught up with?” I furthered.

“Just that Dumbledore reckons Pettigrew owes me a life debt now, which might come in handy later. I dunno, I don’t like thinking that man owes me anything,” Harry shivered with disgust.

“Understandable,” I nodded.

They resumed their game of Chess as I propped open a book and read it in complete contentment.

The next day I spent with Ginny, shooting arrows at new targets Hagrid had prepared in his immense joy at Buckbeak’s release. She had changed a lot over the year; she was a lot taller – taller than me, even, by about two inches. She was developing slight curves as well and seemed to be gaining a lot of confidence.

“Without that damn diary, I’ve spent this year pretty much trying to figure out my own identity,” Ginny explained as she shot an arrow dead into the center of the target, “And since you, Harry, Hermione and Neville have been so distracted with Buckbeak and everything else, I haven’t had much time to be embarrassed around Harry.”

“That’s brilliant,” I grinned, _please get over him because I’m rooting for Hermione, please…_

“I hope he realizes how much I’ve grown,” Ginny sighed.

_Oh eff._

“I mean, I know I’ve botched it up so far – I’m always so nervous around him, I’m not at all myself. You say so yourself, Maggie. I just want to impress him,” Ginny let out another sigh, “That’s my goal for next year. To impress him with who I am, and not be such an obsession-struck… kid.”

“That’s great, Ginny,” I responded sincerely. Inside I was grimacing. This was just painful to have to deal with. Ginny was awesome, and I loved her, but I didn’t think she was right for my brother in the long run.

“Will you help me?” Ginny asked softly.

 _Oh COME ON_.

“I… Ginny…” I sighed.

“ _Please_ , Maggie? I don’t know who else I would ask for this,” Ginny begged.

“I can’t… there’s very little… I don’t own my brother’s heart,” I finally decided on, “I can’t make him like or not like you. There’s very little I can do to help out and I don’t want… to get your hopes up. _Really_ , Ginny, I promise.”

“Alright,” Ginny looked so disheartened I had to say something to cheer her up.

“But you know, no matter what happens, you are such an awesome person. Whether it’s Harry or someone else, there’s going to be someone out there who makes you feel like some sort of Queen, and you’re going to be so happy,” I reassured.

“Really?” Ginny asked in a small voice.

“Seriously. And I wouldn’t lie,” I beamed, _hence my not just saying ‘I won’t help you with Harry because I’m rooting for Hermione_.’

“Thank you, Maggie,” Ginny smiled, “I’m glad George makes you think all these things.”

I felt my face turn bright tomato red and I quickly shot an arrow at a target. Voices could be heard approaching us after we shot for a little while longer, voices I loathed so much I wanted to strangle their owners on sight.

“I can’t believe that _great oaf_ got away with it! I’m sure he freed the monster – how else could it have gotten away? I can’t believe we’ve been _had_ by such a _great, big idiot_. First he remains a teacher at this pathetic school, and now his stupid beast is still alive. Father’s furious, of course. Doesn’t understand how we could be tricked by someone so pathetically dim-witted…”

It was Draco Malfoy, followed by Crabbe and Goyle, walking across the grounds. I immediately grabbed an arrow, notched it, and shot. I was good enough now that I managed to shoot rapidly moving targets almost spot on, and I aimed for just in front of Draco’s face, where he would be in two seconds. And, sure enough, the arrow narrowly avoided his nose, flying past him to the top of the hill. Draco let out a scream of terror and froze in his tracks, his eyes widening as he turned for the source of the arrow.

“ _Johnson!_ ” he roared.

I notched another arrow, “Don’t come _any closer_ , Malfoy!”

Malfoy stopped in his tracks and glared at us, but clearly terrified of my arrows. Ginny raised hers as well and we stood together, aiming directly at their faces.

“You wouldn’t dare,” Malfoy finally stated, “You wouldn’t _dare_.”

“No, I don’t think I’d kill you. Be too much effort for scum like you,” I snarled, “But if you come any closer, I _will_ kick your ass.”

“I’d like to see you try,” Malfoy sneered.

“ _Must_ we continue having this argument, Malfoy?” I sighed, “I’ve clearly shown you that I will beat you every time a lot of times, now.”

“I don’t think you really have proven that, Johnson,” Malfoy laughed. He then stepped forward, coming closer.

“Ginny, hold this,” I handed her the bow and arrows and walked up to Malfoy, entering his personal bubble and glaring at him face-to-face. He wasn’t much taller than me, so I managed to be somewhat intimidating with this.

“Do you really want to find out what will happen?” I hissed.

“Well, I suppose I can safely assume you will be biting me again,” Malfoy snapped. He then moved his arm as if to slap me but I twisted it behind his back, flipping him around and kicking him in the shin. He then swung around and punched me in the face, hurtling me backward into the grass.

“Maggie!” Ginny shouted in terror. I stood up and kicked Malfoy in the groin, sending _him_ flying backward now, unable to even scream in pain. But I hadn’t counted on Malfoy’s cronies. Crabbe seized me from behind and Goyle threw another punch at me, hitting me in the jaw and making me taste blood in my mouth. He then punched me again in the stomach and Ginny was actively screaming now, unable to do anything, as small as she was and as inexperienced with magic as she was. I struggled, trying to break free of Crabbe, but I was unable to.

“ _Get away from her!_ ” I heard a voice shout. I turned to see Harry and Neville running down to us. Neville ripped Crabbe away from me and Harry punched Goyle in the face. I collapsed to my knees, wiping my mouth off, smearing blood on my hand.

“Go on, get!” Harry shouted, kicking very hard Crabbe in the legs now.

“Potter, come to save your wretched cousin…” Malfoy sneered, though his voice was very high pitched.

“Oh get away you little wimp,” Harry snarled, “Go on!”

The three of them ran away, knowing when they had been beaten I supposed. I clutched my aching head as Harry and Neville helped me up.

“It’s a good thing we got here – he was about to kill you,” Harry sighed.

“I had it under control,” I muttered in a muffled voice.

“Yes, I’m sure your burgeoning black eye and damaged jaw agrees with you,” Harry snapped, “Lucky Neville spotted you.”

“Shut up,” I felt ashamed of myself and weak.

“Look, you beat Malfoy, you just couldn’t beat his thugs,” Neville reassured, “Don’t worry about them, they’re giant losers.”

“Thanks Neville,” I whispered.

“Let’s get you to the Hospital Wing. Want to come, Ginny?” Neville asked. Ginny nodded and the four of us walked up to the castle, me to the Hospital Wing for the second time in two days.

The next day Hermione and I were sitting together in the dormitory, as I was spending the day laying down to rest after yesterday and she decided to keep me company, mainly for a long awaited heart-to-heart.

“So, detailed reasoning behind Harry-crush. Go,” I ordered cheerfully from my bed, snuggled underneath all the covers and fairly comfortable.

“This might take a while, Maggie,” Hermione groaned.

I gestured to my current tucked-in state, “Does it _look_ like I have anywhere to go?”

Hermione let out another sigh and sat next to the head of my bed, staring out at something I couldn’t see.

“Alright, well you already know that I can’t imagine being closer to anyone. I suppose I should add onto that that Neville’s like the brother I never had, to me. Not to mention… well, I know he likes someone, quite a lot actually, and he would never even look at me that way for a second. And that’s a relief, not a disappointment,” Hermione began.

“Fair enough. I don’t suppose you’ll tell me who he likes?” I asked.

“I really can’t, he told me not to tell anyone,” Hermione responded, “ _I’m_ not even supposed to know… I guessed.”

“You clever girl you,” I teased.

“Did you watch Jurassic Park again?” Hermione asked in amusement, “Muggle technology doesn’t work here, how did you even –“

“Don’t change the subject. Harry, reasoning, go.”

“Anywho, well, I find your adopted brother very attractive, Maggie, and I’m going to get this reason out of the way before you start gagging for me. I like his eyes, I love that his hair is never tidy and that it’s so jet-black, and I never have been one for the muscly, tall, bulky guys. He’s short, but taller than me, and scrawny, and for some reason, I like that, though I didn’t even realize… that I found him physically attractive, until we got close, I guess,” Hermione was flushed awkwardly.

“Alright, we don’t have to discuss Harry’s physical features any more beyond this point. And I mean this to apply to all future conversations on this topic,” I ordered.

“Exactly, that’s why I got it over with. Anyways, next, he is a very clever bloke, don’t you think? I dunno, I wouldn’t be able to be with a person who was smarter than me… I’m fully aware that my ego would take a hit. But he’s smart enough to keep up with me on most days, and he’s obviously brilliant at solving mysteries,” Hermione continued.

“A valid reason, go on,” I nodded.

“Well… ah… he’s very caring, isn’t he? He really loves the people around him – he wants to what he can for them, he isn’t afraid to care about others, in fact it’s what he does best,” Hermione was flushed again, “I don’t think I could be with someone who was cold-hearted or had the emotional range of a teaspoon.”

“Fair enough,” I laughed.

“And he’s very brave, obviously – I don’t want some person who will run away from conflict or won’t stand up for what’s right. I deeply admire and… well, love… the fact that he _wants_ to solve all these problems, battle You-Know-Who, save the students, catch the man who betrayed his parents… I don’t think any other person could compete with Harry because of that,” Hermione whispered.

“That’s true, I’ll give you that. Now… what about the bad things?” I asked, “Because Harry isn’t perfect and if this thing is going to happen _and_ last, which it must or else I’ll kill you, you need to accept his flaws as part of him, don’t you?”

“That’s true, I know,” Hermione sighed, frowning, “Well… he is sort of completely obsessed with solving problems. I love that, but at the same time, he doesn’t know when to leave it alone…”

“Exactly,” I rolled my eyes.

“Well I mean, that kinda is like a guy who is married to his work, isn’t it? I guess, since I usually help him out so much with it, it wouldn’t be too huge of a problem… and if for some reason he gave me up to go after a dark wizard or to solve a problem… well, I’d insist to come with him, wouldn’t? I suppose the fact that he’s so focused on this kind of stuff means that I’d need a hobby to occupy me when he’s out catching dark wizards, but I shouldn’t have much of a problem with that,” Hermione rambled.

“As long as you’re aware it could become a problem,” I frowned, “He obviously has more flaws…”

“He’s _awfully_ melodramatic, isn’t he?” Hermione laughed. I grinned back.

“Tell me about it,” I rolled my eyes.

“I guess with that I’d just try and bring him back down to earth, and if I can’t, comfort him in whatever he’s… somewhat overreacting about… now,” Hermione smiled, “ _That_ I  really don’t mind.”

“More power to ya,” I sighed, “Have we exhausted everything?”

“I think we might have. If I can think of either a good thing or a fault, I’ll definitely talk again,” Hermione stated, “And if he annoys me immensely…”

“You can just complain to me in any sort of public venue with that, unless the reason he’s annoying you is _because_ you like him and he’s doing something irritable because of that. Any who, I’m going to take a nap, but I’ll see you later,” I waved as she walked out of the dormitory.

The next day I went down to Professor Snape’s office, not because I had a death wish, but because I just needed to clarify something. I knew who the woman was and I just wanted to tell him that I knew. I entered his office and sat down in my usual chair, though he was glaring at me the moment he saw me.

“Care to assist any more fugitives in escaping their due, Miss Johnson?” Snape sneered.

“Not today,” I shrugged, “Look, Professor Snape, I know you’ve been mad at me this whole year. And I suppose you’ve had every right to be, what with the boggart thing and this crazed idea that I helped Black escape. But I was coming in to let you know something, because eventually your temper will cool.”

“I would highly doubt that, Miss Johnson,” Snape scowled.

“Be that as it may, you have a right to know that… I figured it out,” I paused.

“Figured out _what_ , Miss Johnson?” Snape snarled.

“The woman, the dead woman, your boggart. It was Harry’s mum, Lily, wasn’t it? You don’t have to answer that,” I paused, “Lupin said that night that you had been friends with Lily and then something stopped you from being friends. In fact, my Gran hinted at it last summer when I visited, and I don’t know why I didn’t see it before. But I looked up Lily’s picture in Harry’s photo album and it was the same woman. You don’t need to explain why you have that as your boggart, even though Lily’s dead… you don’t even have to say anything now. I just figured you had a right to know that _I_ knew,” I explained, standing up again and walking to the door, “See ya later.”

“Miss Johnson,” he called me back, finally recovering from the shock I had seen on his face. I turned around slowly and crossed my arms in front of my chest.

“Thank you for not prying. Maybe one day I’ll tell you,” he stated in as calm of a voice as he could muster. I nodded and left the room, back down to the Gryffindor Common Room.

The last day of term we got our exam results. The four of us managed to pass all our subjects; even in Potions, though Harry might have only been passed in Potions because Dumbledore had forced Snape to. Hermione received the top in everything she took exams for except three subjects – Herbology, Transfiguration, and Defense Against the Dark Arts in which Neville, I, and Harry got top, respectively. I even managed to somehow pass Charms, which I always considered a sheer feat of humongous proportions.

Gryffindor won the house cup for the third year in a row, mainly because of the Quidditch World Cup, so our table was in very high spirits as we ate and drank and though ahead to the coming year. Harry looked positively golden as he ate and drank at the feast, excited no doubt to return to the Nest and to see Sirius alive and well. Even though he was also depressed at the loss of Lupin as a DADA teacher, I knew he was focusing on the bright side that evening.

We got onto the train the next day, the four of us sitting in a compartment together, George promising to stop by later when he and Fred were done pranking a Slytherin in their year. I sat back in the seat, completely relaxed and ready for a rather easy summer.

“I’ve dropped muggle studies,” Hermione declared, “And that, plus no more divination, means I don’t need the time turner and I can have a regular schedule again.”

“Good for you, Hermione,” Harry laughed.

“Seriously, I look forward to having healthy-Hermione back,” Neville rolled his eyes.

“Well I didn’t like it much anyway, to be honest. It was boring since I knew everything in it and none of you guys were in it with me, so I was pretty lonely. But I’m glad I won’t be so befuddled by that time turner anymore, it really screwed up my whole schedule,” Hermione sighed.

“We could tell. Sleeping through Charms, _honestly_ ,” I laughed.

“This summer should be great, eh?” Harry asked cheerfully. He was exceptionally buoyant.

“Well, I expect so, since mum wrote to tell us we have now acquired a pet dog by the name of Snuffles,” I laughed.

“And then there’s the Quidditch World Cup… Aunt Melinda’s got us all tickets. It should be fun,” Harry laughed.

“Gran’s nervous about me staying in a house in the middle of the woods. She reckons I’ll get lost or something,” Neville sighed.

“Don’t worry, we won’t let you go exploring alone,” I teased.

We played exploding snap together for a while on the train, George eventually coming in and joining us, all of us talking cheerfully. However, late in the afternoon, we were momentarily distracted. A small, bobbing gray thing was disappearing and reappearing outside the window. Harry got up and opened the window to pull out the small owl, handing it to Neville.

“Wonder who that’s from?” George teased. I elbowed him in the stomach teasingly.

Neville took the bit of parchment off the owl’s leg and read aloud for us all.

_“Dear Harry, Maggie, and I assume Hermione and Neville,_

_I hope this letter finds you all well. Buckbeak and I have reached our hiding spot and are quite comfortable here. I would have sent this letter sooner than this morning, knowing that you were coming home today, but a certain girl’s mum wouldn’t stop arguing with me.”_

“Well, that’ll set the tone for the summer,” I laughed.

Neville rolled his eyes and continued, “ _I found this owl in the woods outside our hiding spot. I didn’t want to use anything recognizable in case the letter is traced back to someone, and this owl was so tiny I figured it could pass by unnoticed. The dementors are probably still searching for me, but they would never be able to find me here – a certain wise old wizard is now the secret keeper for this place, so only the people who know I’m hiding here know. You’ll find that you won’t be able to tell anyone new.”_

“So I can’t tell Fred anyway,” George laughed.

Neville continued, “ _There’s something I forgot to tell you before, and I figured I’d just say so in this letter. I was the one who sent you the Firebolt – Crookshanks took the order to the Owl Office and I used your name, but took the gold from my vault. Consider it thirteen years’ worth of birthday presents._ ”

“Well, we were right,” Hermione stated smugly.

“Just don’t tell Ron, he’ll have a fit,” Harry grinned.

Neville laughed and continued, “ _Finally, I look forward to you coming here today. Let’s just say your mother isn’t pleasant company alone… and your sister refuses to talk to me. It’s very awkward. I’d like to close by saying that this owl is a present to Neville, seeing as I basically destroyed his leg, and also I felt like a toad wasn’t a very fitting pet for such a good friend of my godson’s._ ”

Neville looked down at the owl in his hands and he grinned.

“I have an owl. This is… brilliant,” Neville laughed.

“Congrats Nev,” I beamed.

“I’m so excited to see him,” Harry grinned, “First off, we have to rescue him from Aunt Melinda, and then…”

“Hide him until his name is cleared?” I suggested.

“Essentially, yeah,” Harry laughed.

The train pulled up to King’s Cross and we all walked out. George departed with Fred, both of them waving as they left the train. The four of us left together, the owl perched on Neville’s shoulder, and we saw my family standing on the platform. My dad was smiling and waving at us as per usual, and my sister was wearing her usual scowl and crossed-arms, but my mum was holding onto a leash that trailed to an exceptionally large, black dog.

Harry rushed forward and immediately scratched the dog behind the ears, making Elena roll her eyes and grumble in annoyance. The three of us followed at a slightly slower pace and greeted my parents jovially.

“Well we’ll see you two this summer, we’ll send word along when we’re ready for you,” Mum explained.

“Thank you so much Mrs. Johnson,” Neville and Hermione thanked in unison.

“Oh no trouble, it should be fun,” Mum beamed, “Come on kids, let’s go.”

And, walking alongside the big black dog, I looked forward to another summer.

END OF BOOK THREE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finished up another one! Let me know what you think, guys!


	27. Chapter Twenty - Six: Summer Holidays, 1994, The Nest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Meet me down by the whale watch 
> 
> Meet me down by the sea 
> 
> Meet me down in Coney Island 
> 
> We'll go out on the sea 
> 
> So don't ask me no questions 
> 
> 'Cause I don't cry no wolf 
> 
> By the ruins of the Ferris wheel 
> 
> See your doubt in the surf 
> 
> You might think she's Christ-like 
> 
> But my lover is childlike." 
> 
> ~ The Low Anthem, "Lover is Childlike".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: I originally started writing this story about three years ago. after I had finished book three, I had to take a major hiatus due to school. As I did so, I started rethinking the story, reimagining it, and changing the plot line dramatically in my head. I tried to modify books 1-3 to reflect these changes, but it was exceedingly difficult at times to include parts that would fit in with the story of those chapters as well as preclude the later books. As such, there are a lot of very rapid changes in book four. They couldn't be helped without me completely rewriting 1-3, which I did not want to do. I apologize in advance for this. However, never fear: the changes mellow out and the story returns to a more normal pace and more natural narrative around when the kids are going to school at the beginning of book five. I spent book four setting up all the changes, so they could be incorporated from that point on. Thank you for your understanding in this matter. Please, continue to enjoy reading, and leave me a comment if you'd like.

Chapter Twenty-Six: Summer Holidays, 1994, The Nest

“OI! MAGGIE! THE GREAT GINGER IS HERE!”

The shriek of my younger sister pierced my ears and I groaned, dropping the hairbrush on my dresser. Giving up the hopeless attempt to actually make my hair not so overwhelmingly thick, I shouted back, “IN A MINUTE!”

I opened the door to my new room and ran downstairs. The house, though still the same in basics, had changed. A new floor was added and the second and third were split into more than just one big room and a bathroom. Harry, Elena, Uncle Sirius, and I all had our own rooms now. I felt like the world had flipped upside down when I came home.

Harry met me on the spiral stairs. He looked troubled and I raised my eyebrows in confusion.

“What’s up, Harry?” I asked calmly.

He paused for a long time before answering, “I’ll… tell you later. It’s not important.” He ran up to his room on the new top floor and I reached the first floor, where my sister was reading a book at the kitchen table, as per usual, my dad was reading the newspaper, as per usual, and Mum and Uncle Sirius were arguing, as per usual.

“Honestly Sirius, I don’t know why you won’t just put the damn seat down to the toilet,” Mum groaned, “It’s frustrating in the least.”

“It’s not _my_ fault you never check, Melinda,” Uncle Sirius responded scathingly.

“But it _is_ your fault that you won’t _listen_ to my request when I am currently uncomfortable and irritable and _putting up with you_ when we _hated each other at school_ ,” Mum scowled.

I turned around, ignoring the fight, to see George grinning at me from the doorway. I walked up to him, smiling back at him.

“Want to leave before the bombs set off?” I asked.

“Do the Slytherins want to kill Harry in ways that won’t be traced back to them? Come on, my dad gave me the car,” George laughed, taking my hand and leading me down the two-story steps to the ground and out to the car. Though the car could fly, George didn’t usually make it do so, worried that muggles would see us and I would get into more trouble with the Ministry than I already was.

“So, where to? You know, within driving distance,” George teased. I rolled my eyes and frowned, staring out of the window of the Ford Anglia.

“We can go to the village again…” I sighed, “I’m sorry, there isn’t much to _do_ out here. I can’t wait until we get back to Hogwarts.”

“You have a point,” George frowned, “Too bad it’s only early August.”

“I know,” I sighed, “Thanks for coming down for Harry’s birthday, by the way. It was fun to have a large party with everyone.”

“Oh no trouble, though you’re sarcastic kidding is thinly veiled,” George grinned at me.

“Well, with a convicted felon in the house we were lucky to have the four guests we did,” I rolled my eyes, “Just you, Neville, Hermione, and Professor Lupin. Though I suppose he wouldn’t want many more people than that.”

“It was fun explaining to Fred that I was invited and he wasn’t, by the way,” George scowled.

“I’m sorry,” I sighed, “There was nothing I could have done… you understand.”

“Yeah,” George admitted, “I do. And I’m also sorry I couldn’t hang but the once before then… Mum was so angry about my O.W.L. results, well, mine and Fred’s really, and Fred and I have been working on things for the Joke Shop.”

“How are Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes going?” I grinned as he finally stopped driving and parked up on a hill overlooking the giant woods that surrounded my house.

“Brilliantly, though we can’t do too much outside of school, what with the whole no-magic thing,” George beamed, “But we know what we _want_ to do when school starts up again.”

“Excellent. And I know I said this earlier in a letter, but congrats on the O in Defense Against the Dark Arts and the E’s in Transfiguration and Charms. You’ll have a nice, free schedule next year,” I laughed.

“I’d congratulate Lupin more than me on that O. The man was a genius; he really repaired the damage done by Quirrell and Lockhart. Did you know the class above me had a record low number of O.W.L.’s earned in Defense Against the Dark Arts?” George scowled, “At any rate, the only reason Fred and I really tried in that class is because it’s actually _useful_ … unlike the rest of the nonsense we were forced to learn.”

I giggled, “So you don’t think plants and potions are useful?”

“Can’t say that I do, but you have that whole I-like-learning gene,” George paused, “It’s one of the things I like about you.”

“Oh really?” I felt myself blush furiously. We were alone, at the top of a hill, in a car. If I didn’t know better, I would have thought this was a ploy to… well… at the thought I flushed even more furiously.

“Do you want a picnic or something? I suppose we should have gotten food,” George interrupted my thoughts, obviously aware of how embarrassed I was. I wasn’t used to getting compliments from guys in any sort of situation, given that I usually scared them away with my darling personality.

“I mean we can if you want, I don’t really care what we do,” I laughed, “We’ve explored Braemar to the point of it no longer having much charm, but we only went the once – maybe there’s a new shop selling Loch Ness Monster souvenirs.”

“Oh Merlin,” George gagged, “Let’s go down there anyway, we’re close and we can get some food. Then we can come back up here and sit in nature and stuff like you like.”

“Gee, thanks,” I laughed, “Sometime we can do what you like, you realize.”

“What, go somewhere and prank people? We’ve been doing that since we became friends,” George rolled his eyes, “Down we go.”

We drove down to the village and I used my small amount of muggle money to buy us a nice lunch, driving back up in comfortable silence and sitting down in the wild grass and flowers. It was a bright, warm day, but still not too hot like it would have been in America or even in England. Eventually we lay down in the grass together, just staring up at the sky and the clouds and sun.

“You know what would be brilliant?” George asked after a while in which we just laid there holding hands. I turned my head to face his in the grass and he did the same towards me.

“Peter the Rat showing up so we could clear Uncle Sirius’ name and stop my mother from having an aneurysm?” I suggested.

“Besides that,” George laughed.

“Draco Malfoy was shipped to a far off country?” I continued.

“Besides that, too,” George continued to laugh.

“Your mum realized that your future lies beyond the realm of academic achievement?” I added.

“Like that’s going to happen,” George shook his head in the grass, the bright orange contrasting with the deep green.

“Then I give up,” I sighed.

“What if, at the Quidditch World Cup in a few weeks, Ireland wins, but the seeker for Bulgaria – Viktor Krum – gets the snitch? Wouldn’t that be a lark…” George’s voice trailed off.

“Really? A Quidditch what-if?” I laughed, bemused.

“Sorry, it’s sort of an obsession with the Weasleys. Harry’s being conditioned well,” George chortled.

“That’s what I’m afraid of,” I teased. His face was contorted into a wide grin and I couldn’t help but be overwhelmed with how cute he was.

We continued to lie in comfortable silence for a little while longer before George spoke up again.

“You know what else would be brilliant?” George suggested.

“I dunno… does it have to do with Quidditch again?” I laughed.

“No…” George paused, “Wouldn’t it be brilliant if _this_ **wasn’t** a lark?”

“What d’ya mean?” I asked.

“I mean, Fred keeps thinking… we’re going to realize we’re just friends… every time I come up here to see you. Which, admittedly, has only been four times, but… what if he’s wrong?” George whispered.

I flushed again, “That… would be brilliant… yes.”

“I guess… that’s just my fumbling way of asking… do _you_ think this is a lark?” George continued.

“No, I really don’t,” I answered immediately.

“You don’t?” he looked at me keenly.

“No. I think having you around, hanging out alone, and holding hands has been brilliant, and I wouldn’t want it to stop,” I furthered, blushing furiously in embarrassment at this statement.

George sat up on his side and looked down at me as I sat up slightly, balancing my weight on my elbows as I sort of leaned up from the ground.

“Alright… this has lead up to the big question,” George was flushed as red as his hair.

“I don’t think that phrase means what you think it means,” I laughed.

“Not _that_ big question!” George was fairly alarmed, “No, no, I’m… I mean… not that I… What I meant to say was…”

“Calm down George, you’re not in trouble,” I laughed, “I’m only fourteen. Do you honestly _think_ I want it to mean… _that_?”

George looked relieved, “No, I don’t suppose you do.”

“Continue with what you wanted to say,” I gestured.

“D’you want… to be my girlfriend? Like, steady girlfriend,” George was flushed to a steaming temperature. I felt my face follow his face’s example.

“Yes… Yeah, Sure…” I stammered.

“Brilliant!” George said in an oddly high-pitched voice. We stared at each other for a little while, both just flushed with happiness and embarrassment. I looked up at him and he seemed to be bracing himself for a moment; this confused me, and while I tried to work out what he was thinking about he surprised me by leaning in and kissing me on the lips. My eyes widened before they closed, as I had not been expecting this. It was… different, but I liked it, much to my own surprise. When he pulled away, I fought the inherent urge to giggle.

“Well… ah… what time is it?” George asked awkwardly, his cheeks flushed in a different way now.

“Erm… no idea,” I blushed, “Should I find out?”

“I just don’t want your mother to worry,” George interjected in a rush, “I wouldn’t mind just… staying here for a while, obviously.”

“Yeah,” I responded, getting up and reaching into the car to look at my watch, which I had taken off due to its bulkiness and annoyance to my wrist, “It’s three in the afternoon.”

“We have a little while, then,” George declared and I nodded, returning to curl up under his arm as we talked about nothing important in particular.

That evening, after George had dropped me off at my house and kissed me for the second time in farewell, I sat at dinner with my now one-member-larger family. Uncle Sirius was a hoot at dinner, at least to me and Harry and even Dad; he cracked so many jokes it made my sides hurt. Elena, who hated the fact that he had torn her home life asunder, did not find his jokes funny; and Mum, who simply didn’t like him very much as a person, couldn’t get past this to find him funny either.

“Um… Aunt Melinda, Uncle Nathaniel, Uncle Sirius?” Harry asked after a lull in conversation lead to a silence over the table.

“Yes Harry?” Mum answered, putting down her spoon to her soup and looking at him in mild concern.

“Erm… last night, I had a bit of a nightmare, but it was… weird. I wanted to talk to you about it,” Harry introduced. I distinctly heard Elena snort and I threw her a sideways glare.

“What sort of nightmare?” my dad responded gruffly, frowning.

“Well, I was in this house – I’ve never seen it before – and… there was this old man… I think he was a muggle. And he was investigating these voices – and there was a giant snake there. And the snake went up to this chair… and on the other side was Wormtail, talking to someone in the chair… well, the someone was Lord Voldemort, and the snake told him that the old man was there, and he turned around and killed the old man and I woke up… and maybe I wouldn’t find it so weird if my scar hadn’t hurt really badly on top of it,” Harry finished.

The adults all frowned at him in contemplation as Elena rolled her eyes and returned to her soup.

“Well, this concerns me to no end,” Uncle Sirius finally sighed.

“It does add on to all the things happening at the office,” my mother frowned, “And connects to what you learned in Azkaban, Sirius.”

“It’s the latest in a line of signs, Harry,” my dad clarified, “There have been some weird things going on… troubling things. Things like last time.”

“Last time?” Harry and I asked in unison as Elena completely ignored the conversation.

“The last time You-Know-Who rose to power, it wasn’t as if the wizarding world was normal and happy,” my mother explained, “There were a lot of signs pointing to the rise of Dark Magic… disappearances, loyalties being called upon, greater prejudice and mistrust. And the fact that your scar hurt after this dream… and the fact that Pettigrew has more likely than not returned to You-Know-Who after last spring…”

“Just adds onto the rise of Dark Magic bit,” Uncle Sirius clarified, “Since your scar usually hurts only when Lord Voldemort – oh stop _shuddering_ – is near you, the fact that it is hurting when there is no chance he is in the area…”

“I’ll tell Albus immediately,” Mum declared, “We need to start discussing this and the other signs I’ve been noticing. Namely, the disappearance of Bertha Jorkins, the deterioration of my boss…”

“Deterioration of your boss?” I asked.

“The man who heads my department, Barty Crouch, has been acting very odd lately. Very odd indeed. The least of which being that after the Quidditch World Cup he has declared he plans to retire. The man is _married_ to his work, and never promotes me for two reasons – one, I’m a woman; two, I’m a muggle-born. And he’s been acting very weird. Of course, because he’s retiring that means I’m being promoted to head of the department at last… which worries me,” Mum sighed.

“Why, Mum? It’s what you’ve wanted for ages,” Elena asked, finally piping into the conversation.

“Well, to begin with, someone like me – namely, muggle-born – as head of a department is going to not only turn heads but anger a _lot_ of people. Secondly, I’ll have that rather annoying prat, Percy Weasley, working directly under me,” Mum scowled as Harry and I immediately began chortling.

“Thirdly… Well, there are a lot of things for me to worry about now, and becoming head of the department means that Barty is going to drop them on top of my head like a ton of bricks. It’s a good thing I think international relations are so important and I love my work enough to stick with madness. Honestly, my opinion of the Ministry couldn’t be less these days,” my mum shook her head sadly, “But like your father says, kids, to reform something corrupt you’ve got to work from the inside and then out.”

“I still say after their botching of the Philospher’s Stone, Chamber of Secrets, and Azkaban Prisoner debacles you should quit in protest,” Uncle Sirius stated calmly.

“You’re _lucky_ they botched the last one, Sirius, or else you’d be a sack with no soul,” my mother responded scathingly.

“Be that as it may, it wasn’t the job of _your adopted son_ , **my godson** , and his friends to solve those problems. I wasn’t even there and it haunts me how close they were to dying…” Uncle Sirius’ voice trailed off into the distance.

“Something the Ministry couldn’t be more aware of,” Mum sighed, “Which _isn’t_ a good thing. It isn’t inspiring change for them; it’s inspiring them to want to put tabs on my children and their friends. Tabs! I managed to get my complaint through to the Minister; invoking the rights of people and other such _muggle enforced_ nonsense. But I fear it’ll get worse as the situation with You-Know-Who gets worse.”

“Just _please_ try to stay out of trouble this year, kids,” my dad finally interjected, “Harry, your mother didn’t sacrifice herself for you for you to go and throw it away chasing after their betrayer. Maggie, for the love of Merlin, _think_ before you act.”

“We answer you ‘we’ll try’ every year, do you really think we go _looking_ for this stuff?” Harry scowled.

“Last year we were so angry with Uncle Sirius – sorry, but we thought you were guilty – that we wanted to seek him out and kill him, but with the help of Hermione and Neville we reigned ourselves in. But he found us anyway! Trouble and issues _literally_ seek us out,” I groaned.

“It’s like problems follow me, I can’t help it,” Harry insisted.

“We still feel we must try,” Mum sighed, “At any rate, I’m glad I know of _one_ heroic deed you _won’t_ be doing.”

“What?” we asked in unison.

“It’s a surprise,” my mum smiled secretively as she began to take the bowls from all of us, “At any rate, you’ll find out soon enough when you get to Hogwarts.”

Soon after that, Neville and Hermione arrived ready to sleep over, Hermione in my room and Neville in Harry’s. They would stay with us until it was time to go back to school. It was nice having someone share my room again – I had had a roommate for so long (actually, if one wanted to be technical, roommate _s_ ,) that it was weird to have my own room.

“How was your summer, Hermione?” I asked as we went to bed the night before we were going down for the Quidditch World Cup. Since we lived relatively close, we weren’t using a tent or staying overnight.

“Good,” Hermione responded thoughtfully, “Quiet, but that’s usual when you’re with the muggles. You?”

“Loud, but that’s usual when you have Sirius _and_ my mother in the same house,” I sat in my bed frowning up at the ceiling, “How are you doing with… you know…”

“The Harry thing?” Hermione replied in a whisper, “I’m not going to lie, Maggie, I’m getting impatient.”

“I’m sorry, Hermione,” I sighed, “But he just isn’t ready yet.”

“ _That_ I understand,” Hermione was smiling rather devilishly now which was such a strange expression for her face I was momentarily startled.

“So then… what are you going to do about the fact you’re impatient?” I asked, frowning down at her.

“I don’t know. Probably not think about it much,” Hermione shrugged, “I’m going to focus on schoolwork, friends, the good things in life, you know.”

“Oh, obviously,” I grinned, “By the way – did you get my letter – about the new discoveries –“

“ _Yes_ , Maggie,” Hermione rolled her eyes in amusement, “I get it, birds are dinosaurs.”

“It’s more than that!” I insisted, leaning off the edge of my bed and looking down at her eagerly, “Hermione, this thing – they discovered, they haven’t described it yet – it had _wings on its legs_.”

“So?” Hermione smirked at me, rolling her eyes.

“So!” I shot back in horror, “So?! So it means that Cheepers is _right_ – the ancestors had four wings – and that’s how they flew – two wing flight was secondarily derived!”

“I can’t believe your grandmother named her experimental dinosaur Cheepers,” Hermione rolled her eyes.

“What are you talking about, that’s the best name that has ever existed for a basal common ancestor for birds and dromaeosaurs,” I shot back, sticking out my tongue happily.

“Meanwhile, I’ve been reading up on some history,” Hermione paused, “Do you know that wizards and witches were barred from participating in World War I _and_ II?”

“No!” I gasped, actually interested.

“Yes! I mean plenty didn’t listen but doesn’t _that_ say something about our government,” Hermione scowled.

“Read anything _happy_ , Hermione?” I teased.

“Not really,” she sighed, “My parents are visiting Israel while I’m away. I feel kind of guilty that I’m not going with.”

“Have you ever been?” I asked curiously.

“Once, when I was little,” Hermione paused, “I only remember being really hot and having to switch between Arabic and Hebrew a lot.”

I laughed, “That must have been a pain.”

“When you’re a kid, you don’t notice much,” Hermione shrugged, “Though my dad is a bit irritated. I haven’t been using my Arabic _or_ Hebrew much and I think I’m losing some of it.”

“You should practice! I won’t mind not understanding what you say,” I reassured.

“Thank you Maggie,” Hermione smiled, “You’re the best.”

“Of course. We should sleep now,” I grinned, “Night, Hermione.”

“Night, Maggie,” and she rolled over in her sleeping bag.

The next day we woke up early and headed down to breakfast. Dad and Uncle Sirius were staying home from the Cup. Dad, being from America, didn’t really understand nor care for it, and Uncle Sirius couldn’t risk being recognized even as a dog. Since we lived in near-total isolation from other wizards and witches, we didn’t have a portkey to get to the campground, so each of us had to side-along apparate with my mum, one at a time. It felt like my chest was being pressed in on itself and I was fairly uncomfortable. Being the first to arrive, I waited patiently while my mother repeatedly disapparated and apparated with another child. The second was Hermione, then Neville, then Harry, and then Elena. Finally, we all walked through the campgrounds to greet the Weasleys, whom Mum had promised to meet up with.

“Hello Arthur!” she greeted, waving as we trailed behind her.

“Ah! Melinda! So good to see you,” Mr. Weasley stood up from the makeshift fire he was trying to develop and beamed at us all, “You’ve brought the whole herd, I see.”

“Well, I couldn’t just leave behind my kids’ two best friends,” Mum laughed, “You’ve met them all, I assume?”

“Let’s go through the list again – that’s Harry, obviously, everyone knows him,” Mr. Weasley beamed and shook Harry’s hand eagerly.

“And that’s Maggie, she’s in his year at school too,” my mum gestured to me.

“Ah yes, George’s girl!” Mr. Weasley shook my hand and I flushed bright red. He continued, “You really _do_ have to come over for dinner, you know.”

“She’ll be over this week,” my mum answered for me, giving me a little glare out of the corner of her eye. I internally groaned. _Dinner with the parents? I’m going to die now_.

“Then this is Hermione Granger, their friend,” Mum continued. Hermione waved awkwardly.

“Ah yes – I remember you, too. Ginny looks up to the pair of you, you know; we love that she’s found good female role models,” Mr. Weasley encouraged as he shook Hermione’s hand.

“This is Neville Longbottom, their other friend,” Mum went down the line. Mr. Weasley shook Neville’s hand with a smile, saying, “Ah yes, Ginny talks a lot about you too.”

“And then this is my youngest, Elena. She’ll be going to Hogwarts this year,” Mum explained calmly, “At last! She can’t wait.”

Elena threw my mother a look but shook Mr. Weasley’s hand in a relatively friendly manner.

“Well I’ll just formally introduce all my brood – I know you met a lot of them last summer but obviously that was more a thing for the kids than for us adults,” Mr. Weasley went around introducing Mum to all the Weasley kids. Percy, who worked underneath her, immediately started setting about making tea and fumbling to please her. That minute George simply greeted my mum like an old friend and walked over to me and gave me a hug.

“Can you believe Percy?” he stated, rolling his eyes as the brother in question ran up to my mum with a cup of tea she hadn’t asked for.

“It truly is disgusting,” I stuck out my tongue in irritation. Harry, Hermione, and Neville all greeted George, but Neville’s was rather strained. I frowned at him but turned back to George.

“Your dad wants me over for dinner this week,” I sighed.

“Of course he does. Mum can’t stop asking me to ask you,” George looked equally irritated, “We’ll survive it.”

At that moment Ginny and Fred came up to greet us cheerfully.

“How’s it going, Maggie, Hermione, Neville, Harry?” Ginny asked in a rather rapid voice.

“Good,” we all laughed in response.

“Haven’t seen you all summer,” Fred gave me a sort of awkward half-hug, “Been having fun? Oh wait, _that’s_ a stupid question.”

“I’m sorry about my birthday party, guys,” Harry sighed, “Mum didn’t want me to invite too many people and George was just invited because of Maggie…”

 _That’s actually the truth_ , I thought in amusement.

“It’s alright, we’re over it,” Fred laughed, “Seriously.”

Ron came up and greeted Harry, but none of the rest of us. I rolled my eyes and turned back to George.

“Want to go exploring?” he suggested, “All the carts selling things should be up now.”

“Excellent,” I beamed. The rest of the Weasleys followed us as the two parents began talking to each other amiably. Percy was the only person who had to be dragged along. Elena, as per usual at these things, got lost in between all the red-heads and the rest of us. Since she had red hair herself (though a darker shade,) she actually blended in with the Weasleys.

We explored all the tents, looking at the souvenir shops. George bought me a little Irish-themed bracelet, making me flush with embarrassment as this happened in front of all my friends.

We reached a booth with things for the actual game – omnioculars and programs for the most part.

“Ooh!” Hermione gasped, “We should get these!”

“Here, I’ll buy,” Harry offered. He smiled at Hermione and Hermione’s cheeks flushed in response, but Harry didn’t notice. He bought programs and omnioculars for the four of us and handed them out. Neville wasn’t looking at anything but his shoes, and I frowned.

“Everything alright Neville?” I asked in concern. He didn’t look up but he nodded.

“Hey, Neville, want to go check out that stand over there – it has a bunch of Bulgaria things,” Ginny reached out and grabbed Neville’s arm, pulling him over to another booth. I frowned at this and turned with the remainder of the party to see a group of girls walking towards us. They were in the year above, but definitely from Hogwarts, as I recognized most of them. Most especially, I recognized Cho Chang.

“Hello Harry!” she greeted with a smile as the rest of the girls around her giggled. The entire group came to a stop in front of us. Harry flushed beet red and mumbled a greeting back at Cho Chang. It was fairly embarrassing to be truthful.

“How are you doing? Did you have a nice summer?” she furthered, still smiling as if nothing had happened.

“Oh yeah,” Harry finally talked in a normal voice, though it was slightly higher than usual, “You?”

“Boring,” Cho rolled her eyes, “Hardly _anything_ exciting happened. Ah well, at least its time for school… Exciting things will happen there. I mean, exciting things happen wherever _you_ go, Harry. Enjoy the game!” she waved and the group of girls left through the campsite. Harry was now, if possible, even redder.

I turned to him in amusement, “Exciting things happen wherever you go, Harry?”

“I mean… she has a point,” Harry was still flushed bright red.

I raised a teasing eyebrow at him and he stomped on my foot.

“Shut up.”

“Come on, Harry, be honest,” I laughed.

“Fine, I like her, alright? Stop torturing me,” he walked off to join Neville and Ginny. I looked over at Hermione and could see the hurt and pain etched in her face. George frowned too. The rest of the Weasleys were all at a different booth so it was just the three of us.

“You alright, Hermione?” George asked quietly.

“No,” Hermione whispered. I let go of George’s hand and threw my arms around Hermione in a hug, squeezing a little.

“You’ll be okay, Hermione. He’ll come round,” George said in a very quiet voice. Hermione’s eyes widened and she looked at me in terror.

“ _Did you tell him?!_ ”

“No!” I shouted in protest.

“No, Hermione, she really didn’t, I just… it’s the kind of thing you can tell,” George explained calmly, “I mean, besides the _other_ signs, why _else_ would you be so upset at Harry having a crush?”

“Alright,” Hermione sighed, “Alright, you’re right… you really think he’ll come round?”

“I know so,” George responded in a very sure voice, “Some things just are inevitable. Now come on, cheer up – you get to watch a bunch of idiots on brooms fly around and hurt each other.”

Hermione laughed in appreciation of George’s statement as we rejoined the people now at the Bulgaria cart. Neville was laughing with Ginny and the two were almost completely ignoring Harry, much to my confusion. Why would _Ginny_ ignore _Harry_? Was it, too, because of Cho?

“Come on, guys, the game will start soon,” I heard Bill Weasley call across the way. We all turned and made our way to the Stadium, the Weasleys sticking with us as we all had seats in the Top Box together. They weren’t, unfortunately, together, and as such I sat between Harry and Neville rather than next to George. Though I was disappointed by this development, I knew I wanted to spend time with my best friends – I couldn’t let my boyfriend take over my life. Mum was scolding Elena quietly for not trying to get along with everyone as Hermione and Neville discussed the turn-out for the match.

Harry was frowning and I looked to see what Harry was frowning at. Down below us was a pair of big, floppy ears – elf ears. I looked at him in shock and we both said in unison, “ _Dobby?_ ”

 The elf turned around.

“Did sir and miss just call me Dobby?” the elf squeaked. The elf definitely wasn’t Dobby – it had a higher voice and a differently shaped head, with large brown eyes. I suspected she was a girl. Hermione and Neville looked on the proceedings in confusion.

“Sorry,” I apologized.

“We thought you were someone we knew,” Harry clarified.

“But I knows Dobby too, sir and miss!” the elf squeaked, “My name is Winky, sir and miss – and you, sir – you is surely Harry Potter!” her eyes were the size of plates.

“Yeah, I am,” Harry affirmed.

“But Dobby talks of you all the time, sir!” she insisted, looking awestruck.

“How is he? How’s freedom suiting him?” Harry asked curiously.

“Ah, sir,” Winky was shaking her head sadly, “Meaning no disrespect, sir, but I is not sure you did Dobby a favor, sir, when you is setting him free.”

“Why?” Harry asked, taken aback, “What’s wrong with him?”

“Freedom is going to Dobby’s head, sir,” Winky explained, “Ideas above his station, sir. Can’t get another position, sir.”

“Why not?” I asked.

Winky lowered her voice, as though she was about to say something horrifically bad, “ _He is wanting paying for his work, miss_.”

“Paying?” Harry asked, “Well – why shouldn’t he be paid?”

Winky looked horrified, “House-elves is not paid, sir! No, no, no. I says to Dobby, I says, go find yourself a nice family and settle down, Dobby. He is getting up to all sorts of high jinks, sir, what is unbecoming to a house-elf. You goes racketing around like this Dobby, I says, and next thing I hear you’re up front of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures like some common goblin.”

I looked over to my companions and was amused with what I saw. Hermione looked oddly flushed and embarrassed, staring down at her shoes. Neville was frowning at her too. When she looked up, she was looking at Harry with such an expression I felt embarrassed to see it. I turned back to Harry and Winky, realizing exactly how much my best friend cared for my other best friend.

“He should have some fun, though,” I frowned.

“House-elves is not supposed to have fun,” Winky frowned in response, “House-elves does what they is told. I is not liking heights at all, but my master sends me to the Top Box and I comes, miss.”

“Why’s he sent you up here, if he knows you don’t like heights?” Harry asked.

“Master… master wants me to save him a seat, Harry Potter. He is very busy. Winky is wishing she is back in master’s tent, Harry Potter, but Winky does what she is told. Winky is a good house-elf.”

She hid her eyes from the ground again and Harry and I turned back to our friends.

“I’ve never seen a house-elf before,” Neville commented, “Odder than I thought she would be.”

“Dobby was odder,” I sighed.

Hermione read aloud in her program that there would be a display from the mascots before the match. At one point, Draco Malfoy and his family walked in, completely ignoring the rest of us and sitting with the Minister and his entourage.

A man came up and greeted my mother, talking about everything in a cheerful fashion. When he left, my mum turned to us.

“That’s Ludo Bagman, the head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports,” my mum explained, “He’s been working with me and Crouch on this whole affair. Speaking of… that’s his elf. Where is _he_?” Mum frowned down at Winky, “The match is about to start.”

The four of us looked at each other in confusion. Elena had her latest book open and was reading it, refusing to talk to any of us as per usual.

Ludo Bagman walked up to the front of the box and amplified his voice with magic, before calling out to the stands below us, “Ladies and gentlemen... Welcome! Welcome to the final of the four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup!”

I sat back, ready to be sincerely bored. If you’ve seen one Quidditch Match, in my opinion, you’ve seen them all.

“And now, without further ado, allow me to introduce… the Bulgarian National Team Mascots!”

“Oh no,” Mum groaned next to me.

“What?” I asked in confusion.

“Harry, Neville, cover your eyes,” Mum ordered. They did so, but I could tell from just their mouths that the pair of them were especially confused. Hermione frowned at me as a hundred women ran out onto the field. Except they weren’t really human – their beauty was other worldly, rather ethereal at best. They started to dance and a good portion of the audience began acting weird, standing up, looking as if they were about to jump down to the women. I myself felt momentarily compelled to do strage thigns – like, where was my bow, and why wasn’t I shooting it, showing my talents? But I was so embarrassed I was having these thoughts that I managed to contain myself, sitting on my hands and fidgeting. Hermione seemed completely unaffected, and Elena had her nose buried in her book. Harry and Neville were fidgeting in confusion, but then the music stopped.

“Alright, you can uncover your eyes,” my mum sighed. They did so, and all of us frowned up at my mum.

“Those were veela, kids,” mum sighed, “They aren’t really people, and they can make men do crazy things. I didn’t feel like having Harry or Neville jump out of this box to try and impress them.”

I looked around, trying to see George. If they had some sort of magical hold over men, then of course I wasn’t mad, but did he try anything… I couldn’t see him from where I was and decided to just turn back and enjoy the Irish mascots.

“And now,” Ludo Bagman continued, “Kindly put your wands in the air… for the Irish National Team Mascots!”

A giant green and gold comet came zooming into the stadium, spinning around, a rainbow following it as it made laps around the stadium. The lights were brilliant and I was much more impressed with this than the dancing women. The rainbow suddenly faded and balls of light like fireworks appeared, forming a shamrock in midair, and suddenly exploding, golden rain falling from it – galleons.

“That’s leprechaun gold,” my mum warned, “It will disappear within the hour.”

“Aww,” the four of us groaned. Elena snorted at our response and continued reading as if nothing was going on around her.

Ludo Bagman then announced the players for Ireland and the players for Bulgaria in turn. Though Ireland got the most overall cheers, everyone stood up and roared for Viktor Krum, the Bulgarian seeker, as though he were king of the universe. I scoffed and rolled my eyes at this as the game finally began.

It was nothing like a Hogwarts Quidditch match.

The people were zooming round faster than I could keep up with in the omnioculars, but I didn’t dare slow them down to pay attention for fear of missing things. The Quaffle moved between players at breakneck speeds and the seekers were flying so quickly they could have been breaking the sound barrier.

Ireland scored; our group burst into excited cheers.

“I’m a quarter Irish, you know,” my mum assured as we watched the player who had scored fly around the stadium for a victory lap.

“We know,” Harry, Elena and I shouted in unison, too excited to hear the usual story about how her Irish grandmother snuck over to Scotland to marry behind her mother’s back.

The Irish team worked like a well-oiled machine, constantly regaining possession and shooting goals like I had never seen a Quidditch Team work before. It was inspiring and overwhelming at the same time. Whenever Bulgaria actually scored, Harry and Neville dutifully covered their eyes, though I knew they were probably both dying for a peek. Every time the veela celebrated, I felt myself get hot and bothered, like when George kissed me.

 _This is mental, you like George, you can’t be gay_ , I thought in annoyance during one particularly flustering time.

Suddenly, Viktor Krum pulled into a dive, the Irish seeker following him. They dove down, down to the ground, so fast I was absolutely convinced they were going to crash. But at the last second, Krum pulled upward – and the Irish seeker _did_ crash to the ground, a dull thud that sounded painful filling the stadium.

“That was really crafty of him,” I commented.

“It’s called the _Wronski Defensive Feint_ ,” Harry explained hurriedly, looking through his omnioculars, “Man, I’ve got to try that next year.”

“Just don’t kill yourself,” Hermione scolded.

Meanwhile, Ireland kept scoring, and was now so far ahead that Bulgaria could catch the snitch and still not win. The entire stands were in an uproar and Harry looked like he was having the time of his life watching the players play. At one point, the referee was trying to impress the Veela, acting rather ridiculous, much to all of our laughter. At another point, an Irish beater hit a Quaffle into Krum’s face and his nose was broken.

The players kept playing, but suddenly Harry was shouting.

“ _Look at Lynch!_ ” Lynch being the Irish seeker. Lynch was diving, and it was clear he had seen the snitch. I had seen that look on Harry’s face enough times. He was diving, and Krum was on his tail, and they were spinning down towards the ground, going at such a blur I felt my breath catch in my throat, Harry was gripping my wrist with pent up suspense. Lynch crashed to the ground, and suddenly Harry was shouting.

“He’s got it – Krum’s got it – it’s all over!”

Krum, his robes shining with blood, was rising into the air, a glint of gold in his hand. The final score read BULGARIA: 160, IRELAND: 170.

“Well why’d he do that?” Hermione was frowning, “Ireland won!”

“I guess he wanted to end it on his terms!” Harry responded.

“BULGARIA WINS!” Ludo Bagman was shouting, “KRUM GETS THE SNITCH – BUT IRELAND WINS! Good lord, I don’t think any of us were expecting that!”

We all burst into loud and excited cheers, jumping up and down in excitement. It was hard to see what was happening on the ground, as the little green leprechauns were zooming all over the field. Krum and Lynch were both surrounded by healers, clearly in terrible shape. The Quidditch World Cup was brought up into the top box and the Irish team came in, hoisting it high above their heads. Harry simply looked star struck.

“Found your life’s ambition?” I teased. Harry elbowed me in the side but we grinned at each other, both laughing. It had indeed been an experience.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Book Four! LET'S DO THIS!


	28. Chapter Twenty - Seven: Summer Holidays, 1994, The Nest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "And sometimes you have to go back 
> 
> To know just where you have been 
> 
> But we're old enough to know that 
> 
> What has been, will be again and again 
> 
> And the bravest of faces 
> 
> Are the ones where we fake it 
> 
> In the roles that we play." 
> 
> ~ Rise Against, "Tragedy + Time"

Chapter Twenty –Seven: The Summer Holidays, 1994, The Nest

We left the stadium in a large drove, talking eagerly and discussing the match. Harry was star-struck still, simply amazed at what he had seen and excited to talk to the Weasleys about every detail. We reached their tent and began celebrating together; after a fairly potent muggle beverage was consumed by George he literally pulled me into a rather overly enthusiastic kiss that, having been viewed by my peers, made me want to sink into the floor with embarrassment.

Eventually we had to go, and Mum side-along apparated us back to the house. Elena got to go first this this time, and when I arrived last she was already fast asleep.

“How was the match, kids?” Uncle Sirius asked cheerfully as the four of us sat down at the kitchen table to drink hot chocolate together.

“Fantastic,” Harry responded immediately.

“Really cool,” Neville laughed.

“Give me the run down, I can’t _believe_ I wasn’t there…” Uncle Sirius continued but my mum walked in at that moment and interjected, “Not tonight.”

“Aww come on!” Harry begged.

“No,” Mum responded calmly, “You four are exhausted, you’ve been up since early this morning and it’s almost one in the morning. You’ll be going to bed and you can tell Uncle Sirius about it tomorrow.”

We all shuffled upstairs and went to bed. The next morning, the adults were already awake and discussing quietly when I shuffled downstairs, rubbing my eyes and grumbling to myself. I seemed to be the last of my peers awake – the other kids were sitting there, frowning in equal concern as the adults.

“Alright, who died?” I grunted.

“That isn’t funny, Maggie,” Mum snapped.

“Cut her slack, she doesn’t know,” my dad scolded my mum, “There was… an incident last night. We were waiting to explain it until you woke up.”

“Incident?” I frowned, sitting down at the table.

“There was an attack last night,” Mum continued sadly, “At the campsite.”

“Was anyone hurt?” Hermione asked immediately.

“There was a stampede to get out of the campsite – a few witches and wizards are reported being dead due to the crowd crushing in on them,” Mum frowned sadly, “I hope it’s no one we know.”

 _George!_ I thought in a panic, and I felt my eyes widen in terror.

“I’ve already sent them a letter,” Mum responded to my facial expression, “They have yet to write back.”

I gripped the chair in horror but managed to calm my face.

“But the main thing is that the muggles who ran the campground – a whole family – were tortured and then murdered by a group of what was almost certainly Death Eaters,” Mum finished.

“Death Eaters?” Harry asked, frowning.

“Lord Voldemort’s followers,” Uncle Sirius explained, “It’s what they called themselves back in the old days. They used to pull these kinds of things all the time – muggle-baiting was considered a sport, and if you killed well… it was encouraged, rather than frowned upon.”

“So they murdered them? Just in front of everyone?” Hermione asked in horror.

“Indeed,” Uncle Sirius sighed, “Then someone shot the Dark Mark into the air, though the people at the _Daily Prophet_ think that the two incidences are unique.”

“Dark Mark?” I asked, frowning.

“The symbol Lord Voldemort or his followers would fire into the air – it’s a spell – whenever they murdered. But the people who murdered the muggles wouldn’t have wanted that much attention drawn to themselves… they weren’t trying to signal that Lord Voldemort is back, at least not yet. But the person who did send the signal probably thought they were helping…” Uncle Sirius sighed.

“It’s horrible, and of course this is the day I take my post as the head of the department,” Mum shook her head sadly, “I’m going to have to get to work. If you get a letter from the Weasleys you have my permission to open it.”

“How’d you find all this out?” Neville asked.

“Well there was an article in the _Daily Prophet_ , but I didn’t trust it,” Mum scowled, “What we’ve told you comes from a letter I received from my now ex-boss early this morning.”

“Why didn’t you trust the article?” I asked as Mum left the house.

“It was written by Rita Skeeter, a truly awful woman,” Dad scowled, “If I could have her locked up for something it would make me a happy man.”

“Why is she awful?” Hermione asked in concern.

“She enjoys embellishing on the truth,” Dad frowned, “Her deepest ambition is to spread misery and slander wherever she goes, and she does this through writing horrific pieces for the _Daily Prophet_. I’ve stopped reading it because of her.”

A troubled silence fell over the kitchen. Dad stood up and began making pancakes, which we all ate silently.

When I had finally finished and was putting away the dishes, a loud tapping sounded on the window. I immediately sprinted forward and took the weak and tired Errol the owl from the window sill, taking the letter from his leg.

_Dear Melinda,_

_All of us are fine over here, though Ron is pretty bruised up. Thank you for your concern. We were thinking of having Maggie over for dinner this Wednesday? What is her favorite meal?_

_Thank you for your concern; be glad you got out before this all started. I would have been even more worried if Harry had been there._

_~Arthur_

I breathed a sigh of relief and took out a sheet of parchment to reply on.

_Dear Mr. Weasley,_

_Thank you so much for writing back. It’s good that no one was seriously injured, to say that gave me peace of mind would be an understatement. I am free on Wednesday and I must say I’m a sucker for Italian food._

_Thank you for your invitation, and I’m sure my mum will want to write back to you as well._

_~Maggie Johnson_

I then sent off the letter and turned back to the waiting and expectant folks behind us.

“Everyone’s fine, though Ron’s apparently bruised up a bit,” I explained. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief and returned to their usual daily activities. Harry, Hermione, Neville and I went out exploring for most of the day, visiting the different places in the forest outside of our house. We managed to find the lake that Harry and I had dived in when we were little, near the waterfall.

“This place is gorgeous,” Hermione gasped, immediately running forward and sticking her feet into the cool water.

“Screw it,” I grinned, stripping out of my shorts and t-shirt and sprinting into the water in just my underwear. I dived less than gracefully before pulling back up, looking around at my friends’ shocked faces.

“Come on, guys!” I laughed.

“You hate swimming!” Harry protested.

“It’s hot and it’s a beautiful day!” I countered.

Hermione grinned and stripped down as well, standing there in her underwear. She flushed brilliantly with embarrassment but dived neatly into the water, swimming over next to me. I grinned at her and splashed her happily.

Harry and Neville looked at each other, both blushing horrifically and wearing expressions of complete bemusement.

“Come on, guys!” I laughed, “We’re practically family, yeah? Get in here!”

Neville shuffled in place, but Harry stripped down to his boxers and cannon-balled into the lake. The force of the impact managed to throw Hermione and me deeper into the center of the lake, laughing hysterically.

“I’ll get you for that, Potter!” I cried, swimming forward and diving underneath him to grab him by the ankle. I heard him shout above me as I dragged him over to the side of the lake.

“Lemme go! Maggie lemme go!” he shouted as I did so. I finally resurfaced and grinned mischieviously.

Neville was still on the land.

“Come on, Neville!” all three of us shouted in unison.

Neville shook his head madly, shuffling his feet more.

“Why not?” I asked in concern, swimming over to the shore.

“I… I don’t like my body,” Neville mumbled, almost too quiet to hear.

“You think _I_ like _mine_?” I responded in shock, “I have so many jiggly parts! They’re a huge hassle!”

“I don’t like mine for the opposite reason,” Hermione laughed behind me, “My parts don’t jiggle enough! I feel like a child.”

“And I’m basically a twig,” Harry agreed, “Did you guys see my ribs? It’s like, could I _be_ any less muscular.”

“No one cares if you got a little more stuff to jiggle around, Neville,” I finished, grinning at him happily, “We all have things we hate about ourselves. But we all love each other, and don’t care about that stuff. Right, guys?”

“Of course!” Hermione promised, nodding vigorously.

“Seriously, no judgements here,” Harry agreed.

Neville looked at all of us, still blushing, but he hesitantly took off his shirt and pants. We three cheered happily as he slid into the lake, swimming over to me slowly.

“See? You don’t look any worse than the rest of us,” I grinned. _In fact, you are extremely cute._

 _Did I just think that_? I thought in horror as Neville grinned at me and splashed me. I had the composure to splash him back, but I was so embarrassed at my intrusive thought that I dived underneath everyone and swum circles in the lake for a few minutes.

 _It was just a weird thought. You find lots of people cute. Hell, you find girls cute. Doesn’t mean anything_ , I reassured myself.

We continued to play around in the lake, splashing each other happily. I wasn’t really in my element in the water, and when we played water tag I was constantly and consistently “it”.

“Stop picking on me for swimming so slowly, guys!” I whined.

“This is my payback for you being faster than me on land,” Neville grinned. He was consistently the fastest of us. It was as though the water followed his every command.

“I’m the fastest in the air,” Harry offered teasingly.

“ _We know_!” the three of us laughed, splashing water in his face.

Eventually, the night began to descend on us, darkening the forest canopy above our heads.

“We should really go,” Hermione sighed, swimming over to the bank.

“Will we be able to find our way back in the dark?” Neville asked nervously.

“Maggie and I know this forest like the back of our hands,” Harry reassured, climbing up and getting dreassed quickly.

“Haven’t you also told many stories of getting _lost_ in this forest?” Hermione asked, half teasingly, half worriedly as she also got out of the water and got dressed.

“Oh ye of little faith,” I laughd, pulling myself out and shivering slightly with the cold of dusk. I hurriedly put on my clothes, feeling especially exposed now that we were all just standing there.

“Come on, let’s go,” Harry nodded, leading us all back through the forest to our house.

“So when you were little, this is what you did? All the time?” Neville remarked.

“Yeah,” Harry and I responded in unison.

“This explains so much,” Hermione laughed.

“Like?” I countered, sticking my tongue out at her while shivering somewhat. We were all shivering, to be honest.

“Your thirst for adventure,” Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Your lack of fear of… anything,” Neville chortled.

“The fact that you both seem more at home outside than inside,” Hermione continued.

“Your complete lack of inhibitions,” Neville pointed out.

“Okay okay,” I interjected.

“We get it,” Harry stuck his tongue out at them as we continued to make our way down to the Nest.

“Though there was this one time,” Harry remarked as we got nearer the house.

“Oh god, no,” I groaned.

“I have gone four years without telling this story!” Harry laughed.

“I may kill you,” I retorted.

“This better be good,” Neville laughed.

“We were out in the forest – and decided to try sleeping out here –“ Harry began.

“This is the most embarrassing story of my life,” I groaned loudly.

“Oh I’m _so_ eager to hear this!” Hermione laughed.

“And so Maggie was like, of course we have to make a fire. So she does, and it’s pretty good, for a handmade fire and everything,” Harry continued.

“I will murder you in your sleep,” I sighed, happily getting us back on the trail that lead to the house.

“But then she gets cocky, and she grabs a stick and uses it as a torch, and goes wandering into the forest with it _after dark_ ,” Harry explained.

“Uh oh,” Neville chortled.

“And she’s walking through the forest with this torch – and I was following because frankly, I’m just as much of an idiot as she is – and we’re pretty deep in, and it’s so thick everywhere that it’s pitch black except for the torch –“

“And suddenly this giant, blood-sucking Bugbear comes out of nowhere,” I finally added reluctantly.

“Yes, _own_ your embarrassment!” Harry grinned, patting me on the shoulder, “And so what does my dear sister do?”

“I throw the torch at the bear,” I grumbled.

“She _throws the torch at the bear_!” Harry repeated happily, laughing, “And she misses the bear – I dunno where your new aim with the arrows came from, Maggie, cause it _certainly_ wasn’t there that day –“

“ _WE WERE EIGHT_!” I protested.

“And the fire hits the trees, and begins sprouting everywhere, and the bugbear left, thank goodness, but the fire was getting pretty bad – so we had to sprint out of there, obviously,” Harry laughed.

“We managed to reach the Nest quickly enough for Mum to put a stop to it, but that’s the story of how I caused a forest fire,” I grumbled in annoyance.

“You missed the part about how we had to sprint away from a _spreading forest fire_!” Harry was laughing so hard he was clutching his sides, “I mean you were screaming at the top of your lungs! There was smoke everywhere! I was coughing for days!”

“This all seems perfectly within character,” Hermione laughed as we walked up the stairs to the Nest.

“Harry, we swore we would never tell that story,” I groaned.

“I had my fingers crossed,” Harry laughed. I hit him upside the head and Neville and Hermione chortled behind us as we finally got back inside the house.

That evening I sat up with Hermione again, talking to each other about random things and unwilling to go to bed right away. We only had a few more days left until we went back to school again.

“How are things with you and George?” Hermione asked as she organized her new books for the millionth time.

“Great,” I beamed back, “I can’t wait to see him often again, but things are great.”

“I’m glad,” Hermione laughed, “You seem happy and that’s the really important thing.”

I looked over at her with a frown, “How are _you_ doing? I know the whole thing with Harry and that chick upset you at the Cup.”

“I’m… well, I can’t say that I’m over it,” Hermione admitted, “But I’m ignoring it pretty well. I mean, if George thinks we’re meant together, then well, I have hope don’t I?”

“Fairly true,” I beamed, “And you have stuff to distract you in the meantime.”

“Yes, I do,” Hermione laughed, “I think I might hang out with Fred more.”

“Really?” I asked in surprise, “But… you two are so….”

“Different? Yeah, I know,” Hermione paused, “But he’s pretty lonely now that you and George are doing your own thing, he said. And we’ve always been friends. I dunno. He’s pretty nice, and I wouldn’t mind getting to know him better.”

“Well that’s good! Maybe he can help release your troublemaking side more,” I grinned.

“Oh, I’m sure that’s a given,” Hermione rolled her eyes. She paused for a long time before saying, “I’m never going to be able to get over Harry, though.”

“Well didn’t we establish that before? How is this new information?” I asked curiously.

“Yeah I just… that thing at the Cup… I realized how much of a goner I really am,” Hermione mumbled.

“What thing?”

“You know, where he was confused as to why House Elves shouldn’t be getting salaries. I don’t’ know much about House Elves other than that they’re servants for wizards and witches, but I do know they’re not getting salaries… I guess that’s taken for granted, I’ve been doing some research post the Cup and it’s just horrific what they do to those poor elves. At any rate, just the fact that Harry wouldn’t necessarily take that for granted… was… Maggie, can he just fall for me?” Hermione begged.

“I can’t control the boy’s heart,” I sighed, “It’s a real issue, in the end. But you’re right, I don’t like the way House Elves are treated either. It’s just awful, what Dobby had to do – punish himself, _honestly_.”

“You don’t like it either?” Hermione’s eyes widened, “Really?”

“Hermione, I think all animals and plants are equal, do you really think that I would find House Elves beneath me?” I rolled my eyes, “Remember how much I love nature?”

“Sorry, I know, I just forget that that applies to… sapient creatures too,” Hermione beamed.

“Right, well, equality for everyone! Any who, yeah, of course I don’t like it,” I laughed.

“Want to start an organization with me?”

“A _what_?”

“An organization – to, you know, work to help House Elves and achieve equality for them,” Hermione explained.

“Huh… Yeah, I think I’d like that,” I nodded. Hermione beamed and bid me goodnight.

Wednesday I was filled with absolute terror as I left the house through the floo network and appeared at the Weasley’s on the other side. I walked through to the beaming face of Mrs. Weasley.

“Oh Maggie! It’s so good to finally see you. I apologize for my putting off this meeting – I must confess that I was rather frustrated with my son and it was more a punishment for him rather than a disapproval of you. Come in, come in, make yourself comfortable,” Mrs. Weasley simpered. I walked in, feeling flushed and overwhelmed, and sat down on the couch.

Where my house was rustic and filled with plants everywhere – my parents were as much nature lovers as I and Elena were – this house just seemed to be multiple puzzles put together in the wrong order, but somehow in an order that made sense. The furniture was all patched up and quilt-like, there were things just scrubbing themselves and knitting themselves (my mum, who had grown up with muggles, still insisted on doing things the non-magic way,) and there were so many bits and bobs lying around it looked like the nest of a pack rat. It was kind of awesome.

“Now I know I met you in Diagon Alley before your second year, and again last summer at the Leaky Cauldron, but tell me about yourself,” Mrs. Weasley simpered as she handed me a cup of tea.

“Oh, that has two sugars, George told me how you liked your tea,” Mrs. Weasley beamed.

“He knows how I like my tea?” I laughed, raising my eyebrows.

“Why wouldn’t I?” George finally appeared at the base of the stairs, walking over to me and smiling. I could tell he was just as terrified as I was, but was hiding it much better.

“I dunno, I don’t remember drinking tea around you,” I laughed.

“You must have – at any rate, I remembered,” George sat next to me on the couch.

“I didn’t get a cup for you, I thought you were still doing Merlin knows what with Fred in that room,” Mrs. Weasley frowned.

“We’re done for the day,” George shook his head.

“Well then I’ll go get you a cup, I’ll be back in a minute,” Mrs. Weasley got up and left back to the kitchen.

“We’ve been inventing,” George quickly explained, “Stuff for the joke shop, but Mum keeps confiscating our products, so we have to be secretive about it.”

“I’ll help when we get back to school,” I offered, beaming.

“Thanks Maggie, that would be awesome,” George grinned, kissing the top of my head and murmuring in my ear, “You look nice today.”

“My mum insisted I wear something other than my usual grungy tomboy look,” I grimaced.

“So you managed to find a skirt in all that mess?” George grinned.

“My mum complained that it was short, but I explained it was either shorts, a skirt this length, or jeans,” I shrugged, “I don’t wear girly clothing.”

“Oh I know,” George smiled, “I’m just glad you don’t wear baggy sweatshirts all the time anymore.”

“Hardy har,” I stuck my tongue out at him as Mrs. Weasley came back into the room.

“So tell me about yourself, Maggie,” Mrs. Weasley urged.

“Well… I’m in Harry’s year – Ron’s year, at school…” I paused.

“I know all that. I also know you enjoy biting people when you fight them,” Mrs. Weasley smiled slightly.

“Oh God. The reputation has spread to Mrs. Weasley now,” I groaned, putting my hand in front of my face.

“Aww, it’s alright dear. We all get rather riled up at this house too,” she reassured.

“Though not to the point of biting,” George teased. I glared at him and he grinned back.

“Well I guess… I’m good at school, for the most part – there are some subjects I dislike but I’m good at transfiguration…” I paused.

“Good? Maggie, you give Hermione a run for her money,” George frowned.

“I’m trying to be modest,” I hissed. Mrs. Weasley, however, was smiling.

“And I love to go outside, I love walking through forests and seeing different animals and plants…” I continued.

“Ah yes, well I would expect so. I’ve heard descriptions of your house,” Mrs. Weasley laughed.

“Yeah, it’s kind of in the middle of the woods and is like a treehouse. Mum just planted a bunch of trees that literally invade the deck,” I laughed, “We’re basically nestled.”

“I’m sure you love it though,” Mrs. Weasley smiled.

“I do, you’re right,” I paused, “I don’t think I could ever live in the city.”

“Very few wizards can. There are a lot of muggles and it’s very hard to use magic in them. Even though we all have to be careful out in the country, it’s not the same level of care needed in cities. From what I hear, living in London is a nightmare,” Mrs. Weasley agreed.

We continued to chit chat for a while, and then Mrs. Weasley excused herself to go and start making dinner. George turned to me, grinning.

“I think you handled that well,” George laughed.

“Now the fun part – dinner,” I groaned sadly.

“You’ll be _fine_ ,” George reassured, “Everyone already knows you, and Fred and Ginny are two of your best mates.”

“Yeah, but you’re also related to _Ron_ and _Percy_ ,” I scowled.

“A fact I try to ignore every day. And Charlie and Bill are still around and they’ll think you’re awesome too, I guarantee it,” George reassured.

“You guys think I’m awesome?” I laughed.

“Please, Fred and I tell you that all the time, and you _know_ Ginny idolizes you,” George smiled slightly, before frowning, “Which worries me.”

“The whole Harry thing?” I whispered, “I know. I can’t… Ginny’s my second choice, don’t get me wrong, but I want Harry to end up with Hermione…”

“I do too, does that make me a bad brother?” George shook his head, “I mean, I’m sure I don’t think about it nearly as often as you do, but when the topic is forced to my brain I agree with Hermione.”

“It doesn’t make you a bad brother, but we shouldn’t probably talk about it now,” I sighed, “Anyone could hear us.”

“True,” George smiled and then started grinning mischievously at me.

“What is it?” I laughed. He then, without saying another word, placed his hands on the sides of my waist and leaned in to kiss me. I instantly smiled into the kiss and placed my hands on his shoulders. He kissed me a few more times before a gagging sound rang throughout the room.

I pulled away from him and glared at Fred, who had appeared at the other end of the room and was now pretending to vomit all over the carpet.

“Thank you for your performance, Freddie,” George scowled, his hands still on my waist.

“It’s just… So disgusting…” Fred teased, walking over to us and sitting in the chair Mrs. Weasley had just been sitting in.

“Then why do you remain here?” I rolled my eyes.

“Mum thought you two could use a bit of company, meaning, she was worried about you two snogging all over her couch,” Fred chortled.

“Thank you for taking the task of our supervisor into your hands,” George was still scowling in irritation.

“Any time. So! Maggie! We have new prank ideas for you!” Fred began, and the three of us eagerly began plotting the various ways we intended to torture Draco Malfoy this upcoming school year, though George never let go of my waist. It seemed that his policy of not making Fred feel awkward didn’t apply to snogging interruptions.

“Fred, George! Come help me set the table!” Mrs. Weasley suddenly called from the kitchen. They left, and I got up to go look at the pictures of the family throughout the house curiously. One particularly odd one in a dusty corner of the living room caught my attention – it was a photograph of two young girls, one only slightly older than the other, sitting in this very living room.

 _I wonder who the other girl is_ , I thought in confusion, since I assumed one was Ginny.

I frowned at the picture for a few more moments before a voice said quietly behind me, “That’s me.”

I whirled around in shock to see Ron standing there, his arms folded across his chest.

“You?” I asked in confusion.

His face was colored bright read and he took a deep breath, “Look… I know we don’t get along much, but you’re dating my brother, and I should probably just get this over with.”

“Okay…” I responded, still horrifically confused.

“I was… when I was born, the outward appearance of my genitalia had everyone decide I was a girl,” Ron spluttered. I silently waited for him to continue his story.

“But when I was little, I hated it. I hated being called a girl, I hated dressing like a girl, I hated it when my mum insisted I was a girl. None of it felt right in the slightest. I was young, but I remember it very clearly because it was just… so… _horrible_. Eventually, my dad looked into it all. I’m… transgender. It’s a thing, it means my outward, societally imposed gender doesn’t match the gender I identify.”

“I’ve read about that I think, yeah,” I nodded.

“So when I was little my parents decided that, rather than try and fight it – because that leads to all sorts of problems, most noteably depression and suicide – they’d help me battle any problems later on, early. So I got these… treatments, that ensured I wouldn’t go through female puberty, and I got some magical surgeries that gave me the right parts – muggle surgeries can’t do that, so I’m really thankful I’m a wizard – and then over the course of these past few years I’ve been getting the hormones that I need to have male puberty, and here we are,” Ron shrugged, “Laugh if you want.”

“Laugh? Why in the blazes would I do that,” I shook my head, “I’m glad you’re able to be you.”

Ron looked touched, an expression I wasn’t used to seeing from him, “Thanks. I just… I keep it secret cause it’s not really… acceptable, you know?”

“Yeah, but that’s bullshit,” I nodded, “How did your mum take it?”

“She was upset, but she’s gotten used it, and is very supportive now,” Ron shrugged, “A good mother would be.”

“Obviously,” I smiled.

“She was more upset she had to get rid of all the pictures of me before I transitioned, honestly. I let her keep that one cause I felt bad about it, but I forgot to ask her to take it down,” Ron explained.

“Well, don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone,” I reassured.

“Thanks,” Ron smiled again as his mum called us to dinner.

The entire Weasley family was there, a rare occasion, and it was slightly overwhelming. I sat in between George and Ginny, taking my glops of spaghetti in nervous silence.

“So Maggie, tell us about yourself,” Bill beamed. It seemed to be a theme with this family. So I went into the spiel about my personality and my interests as the rest of the family ate – Ron was shoveling food into his face in a moderately disgusting manner.

“You like dragons, huh?” Charlie laughed, “I bet you’d like working with them in Romania, that’s what I do – there’s a large reservation down there.”

“I remember someone telling me you worked with dragons. What’s that like?” I asked eagerly.

“Thinking about a career with the fire breathers?” Bill laughed.

“I dunno, it’s one of the options I’m considering,” I flushed.

“Well it’s a lot of hard work – you’ll have to be really up to hard manual labor. Not to mention, you’ll have to get over your whole dislike of broomsticks – they’re all we use,” Charlie explained.

“Great,” I groaned, “How do you people get used to riding on _sticks_?”

Everyone in the room chortled and continued eating.

“What else do you enjoy, Maggie?” Mr. Weasley asked calmly as I swallowed another bite of food.

“Well, I love transfiguration,” I felt like I was repeating myself a lot now, “If I could do something with that, I would.”

“Professor McGonagall is getting on in years,” Mrs. Weasley suggested, “I mean, when Professor Dumbledore retires she’ll take over for him – you could probably try and replace her.”

I felt my eyebrows rise, “That would actually be rather brilliant.”

“She could totally do it, too,” Ginny piped up, grinning at me. I grinned back at her.

“How is your mum doing? Is she enjoying her new job?” Mr. Weasley continued conversationally.

“She’s… well, she likes finally being recognized for all her hard work, but… she’s worried,” I frowned.

“Worried about what?” Bill looked concerned.

“There are a lot of signs… Um…” I flushed, realizing I probably wasn’t allowed to talk about it.

“Signs about You-Know-Who returning?” Mr. Weasley answered, “Yes, we’ve noticed them too.”

“Yeah, she wishes the Minister would take them more seriously, like Dumbledore,” I nodded.

“The Minister is taking the proper precautions to prepare for an increase of dark activity,” Percy responded pompously, “Your mother is worrying quite unnecessarily…”

“That’s your boss, you prat,” Fred scowled, “You should show her more respect.”

“Furthermore, Mrs. Johnson knows what she’s talking about. The signs _are_ increasing, and I’m not just talking about four muggles being murdered in the night,” Mr. Weasley frowned, “Things feel like last time.”

“What was the last war like, Dad?” Ginny asked curiously.

“Bad,” Mr. Weasley answered simply, “Everyone lived in constant fear and paranoia. Your mother and I weren’t actively involved in the resistance movement; to be honest, we left school when You-Know-Who initially rose to power, got married soon after, and started having children immediately. It was the whole ‘carpe diem’ – you know, seize the day – sort of mindset. We didn’t want to wait in case one of us died. But because of that neither of us got involved in all that.”

“Would you this time? If he came back?” Fred asked.

“Most definitely,” Mr. Weasley answered immediately, “We wanted to last time – obviously all of our friends are on the anti-You Know Who side. But now that we’re done with even having children in the house, an active role would suit us better.”

“I certainly hope he doesn’t come back,” Mrs. Weasley frowned, looking upset, “I wouldn’t want any of you kids getting into danger to fight him.”

“But we’d _have_ to fight,” Fred insisted.

“I couldn’t just sit by and let him take over,” George agreed.

“Absolutely out of the question. Not until you’re out of school,” Mrs. Weasley insisted.

“It was a crazy time, kids,” Mr. Weasley clarified, “Many kids would just join up the minute they left school or while they were still in school – _both_ sides. The Order of the Phoenix didn’t have an age requirement until two years before You Know Who was defeated…”

“Order of the Phoenix?” I asked.

“The anti-You-Know-Who resistance movement. It was led by Dumbledore and worked alongside the Ministry, but was separate from it,” Mr. Weasley explained, “I only heard tell of it, I wasn’t really a part of it. Mrs. Weasley’s brothers were, and your parents of course, Maggie. Your father joined when he married your mum. And Harry’s parents were huge members. I could go down the list.”

“Mum’s brothers?” Ginny asked.

“Gideon and Fabian,” Mrs. Weasley had tears in her eyes, which she quickly wiped away, “They died for the cause. Right after they died I had the twins and I named them for them, their middle names.”

“Why’d they set an age limit?” I asked.

“There was this group of kids that joined up while they were still in school – they were all in the year below Harry’s parents at school. They were Charlotte Sato, Gregory Lee, Charles Dewhurst, and Barbara Morgendorffer. Charles was killed the year they joined up, their sixth year, in a violent accident. Barbara was killed their seventh year when Death Eaters found her in Hogsmeade and tortured her and killed her in front of everyone. Charlotte and Gregory got married the year they came out of Hogwarts. They had a son a little time afterwards, but they were killed two days after their son was born by You-Know-Who himself,” Mr. Weasley explained, “Dumbledore realized that having kids in the Order was a bad idea, not because they couldn’t help, but because having anyone put themselves into such danger at such a young age…”

“Did a lot of people get married early back then?” Ginny asked curiously.

“Most did, sweetheart,” Mrs. Weasley sighed, “Everyone was so terrified they were going to die, they rushed into marriages right and left. It didn’t matter so much for a lot of people – your father and I have obviously done well and so has Maggie’s parents. But almost every marriage in those years was done rapidly and without forethought. It was a time of very rash decisions.”

Mrs. Weasley’s eyes noticeably flickered to George and me before going back to Ginny. I felt like sinking to the floor in embarrassment and before anyone could comment on the exchange asked, “What happened to their son?”

“He was raised by his aunt I believe, who was a bit older than them all, Iseul Lee. His name is Sam,” Mr. Weasley responded.

“I think he’s in our year,” Ron interjected with his mouth full of food.

“Oh yeah…” I frowned, “I never notice him.”

“He’s in Ravenclaw,” Ginny interjected. Everyone looked at her.

“What? I’ve seen him around. He never talks to anyone. I’m friends with Luna Lovegood – she’s a Ravenclaw – and she says he doesn’t like talking to people,” Ginny explained.

“That’s sad. His parents were very friendly people,” Mrs. Weasley lamented.

I frowned. I decided that I would try talking to him in Astronomy this year, the class we shared with the Ravenclaws. I also remembered he was in Ancient Runes; I would try there too.

“Well!” Mr. Weasley declared as we all finished our food, “Dessert?”

We all ate pieces of chocolate cake together and drank tea. The rest of the evening passed pleasantly, with me getting along with the entire family, honestly. I found I liked the two oldest Weasleys a lot and enjoyed talking to them.

The evening winded down and everyone said goodbye, leaving George and me standing in front of the fireplace.

“Sorry about Fred earlier,” George sighed.

“It’s alright,” I laughed, “I think you were more irritated by the interruption than I was.”

“There is that,” George chuckled, “I think that all went rather well.”

“Even with the depressing dinner conversation!” I laughed. George sighed.

“I intend to do what I can to fight You-Know-Who. I don’t see how I couldn’t,” George frowned.

“And you think _I’m_ just going to stand by? _Me_?” I raised my eyebrows.

“I would never even consider it,” George smiled slightly before leaning in and kissing me again. I enjoyed the kiss immensely, and didn’t really feel much like leaving, but I knew I had to, so I pulled away reluctantly and left back to the Nest.

September first finally came, a grungy day filled with rain and soot and sadness at the end of the summer holidays. We were using Floo powder to get to the Leaky Cauldron, and then take a cab to King’s Cross. Everyone was in chaos; Neville kept forgetting things and had to run back up to Harry’s room to get them. Elena and Mum were engaged in a shouting match and Hermione already had a headache.

“I remember my farewells being this chaotic,” Uncle Sirius commented as I shared a cup of coffee with him at the kitchen table.

“Really? I didn’t think they could ever be this bad,” I frowned.

“I’m sure it’s worse at the Weasleys,” Hermione grumbled.

“ELENA, YOU DO _NOT_ NEED EVERY BOOK THAT YOU OWN!” I heard my mother roar above our heads.

“YES I DO MUM! YOU KNOW I NEED THEM!” Elena screamed.

“YOU CAN’T POSSIBLY TAKE THEM ALL!” Mum insisted.

Harry raised his eyebrows and ran a hand through his hair in annoyance as Neville ran down the steps for the eleventh time, rather out of breath and flustered as he put down a large magical cactus on top of his things.

“Alright. _That’s_ everything,” he panted.

“No, you forgot Gretchen,” Hermione shook her head.

“You’ve got to be _kidding me!_ ” Neville roared.

“I still can’t believe you thought she was a boy owl,” I laughed.

“Look, I wasn’t exactly _looking_ for gender-identifiers, and Gran only saw because she excreted on the damn carpet!” Neville defended as he ran upstairs for his tiny owl.

“I think he has everything now,” Harry commented.

“At the very least we’ll send it along, I don’t want him to die,” my dad chuckled softly.

Elena came stomping down the steps, and it was clear from her expression that she wasn’t taking all of her books.

“Well goodbye kids,” my dad smiled at us all, “It was nice having you in our home, Hermione, Neville.”

“Thank you for putting up with us,” Hermione smiled back.

“Oh no trouble at all,” my mum insisted.

“I have a present for you, Harry,” Uncle Sirius interjected, “And I suppose you all can use it.” He pulled out from behind him a small ornate mirror that he handed Harry calmly.

“Aunt Melinda went and got this for me. There’s two of them,” Uncle Sirius explained, “Your dad and I used them to talk to each other when we were in separate detentions. All you have to do is speak into the mirror and mine will show your face, and yours mine. We can talk to each other. I usually have mine on me.”

“Really?” Harry raised his eyebrows, “That’s _awesome_.”

“I figured you’d like it,” Uncle Sirius smiled, “At any rate, this way if you have any more dreams or scar twinges, or you just have something to talk to me about, you can without worrying about exposing me.”

“Thank you Uncle Sirius,” Harry threw his arms around him and then pulled back from the hug. We all waved and left through the fire place, rushing through the pub, grabbing the cabs, inching through the traffic, and managed to rush onto the train just in time. Elena immediately separated from the four of us, going down the train to the other side of it. I wondered if she would find anyone at all to sit with as the four of us took a compartment and sat together.

“Why does Elena hate you two so much?” Hermione asked as we made ourselves comfortable.

“When we were kids, we dragged Elena on all of our adventures with us,” I began calmly.

“But unlike us, she’s not… well, she’s _not_ very adventurous,” Harry continued.

“She isn’t very brave,” I sighed, “Not that she’s a bad person or anything, or someone who doesn’t stand up for the right thing… she is just completely comfortable having all her adventures in books.”

“You should see her collection, I think she has every fiction novel known to man,” Harry laughed.

“Anyway, soon before we all came Hogwarts – it was the singular month when Harry and I were both ten years old – we decided to go exploring this Giant Cave near our house,” I continued.

“And we dragged Elena along,” Harry sighed, “This was a mistake.”

“There was this huge bear,” I frowned, “It was monstrous, terrifying, and territorial.”

“Mostly to Elena. Maggie and I had already come across an overgrown shark in the lake, as well as a million other things, and we didn’t get too scared,” Harry clarified.

“But Elena was traumatized. She stopped talking to us and wanting to hang out with us, and she retreated to her books in her room,” I sighed.

“Occasionally she’d try hanging out with us again, but all we ever did was explore the forest. She never wanted to follow,” Harry lamented.

“Then we came to Hogwarts. We had all sorts of adventures, as you know, and she felt left out of the mystery-solving. And then our letters became less frequent because we got so distracted with everything,” I sighed.

“We used to write her every week. By the end of the year I hadn’t written to her in a month and a half,” Harry admitted.

“She was so angry with us when we came home she barely said a word. We tried writing to her at the beginning of second year but even then she never wrote back to us,” I continued.

“Eventually we gave up, and now she hates us,” Harry sighed.

“I’m sure she won’t hate you forever, I mean she’s in Hogwarts with you now,” Hermione insisted.

“She’s your sister, she still loves you,” Neville agreed.

“I don’t know. I mean she’s still pissed off that we’re the indirect cause of her childhood home being completely changed and having a new person added to it,” I frowned.

“Well we’ll see what happens,” Hermione nodded. The train then lurched forward and we made our way towards the school. There weren’t many incidents; Fred, George and Ginny popped in at one moment to talk to us and I managed to keep George’s hands to himself. For some reason I felt awkward having him all over me in front of Harry, Hermione, and Neville. Harry and Neville especially, though I really didn’t know why in the latter’s case. At one point, Draco Malfoy walked by, and Hermione literally had to hold me down so I wouldn’t freak out and start attacking him. He was talking about some place named Durmstrang and how he almost went there for school.

“Durmstrang?” Harry asked when the three idiots had left and Hermione could let go of my hands. I was still reeling about my defeat last spring.

“It’s a magical school in Eastern Europe,” Hermione explained.

“There are three wizarding schools in Europe,” Neville furthered, “Gran always talks about the one for Western Continental Europe – it’s called Bauxbatons.”

“America has three schools too, if I remember correction,” I nodded, “There’s one in Boston, one in Chicago, and one in Las Vegas.”

“There are three in Asia as well,” Hermione nodded, “And two in Africa. There’s two in South America and one in Australia.”

“Canadian students come to the American ones, I think,” I agreed.

“I wish Malfoy had gone to Durmstrang. Then I would never have had to deal with him,” I scowled.

“Life goes on,” Harry laughed before frowning, “I wonder why Malfoy would bring it up now?”

“Who knows?” Neville rolled his eyes, “I’ve decided that worrying about Malfoy’s motivations is too tiresome.”

“Truth,” I agreed as I raised a cauldron cake in Neville’s honor and the train continued on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wooo! Character development bombs in this chapter! Just falling all over the place! Wow! Let me know what you think!


	29. Chapter Twenty - Eight: September 1 - September 2, 1994, Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Hey sister why you all alone? 
> 
> I'm standing out your window 
> 
> Hey little sister, can I come inside, dear? 
> 
> ...Little sister can't you find another way 
> 
> No more livin life behind a shadow." 
> 
> ~ Queens of the Stone Age, "Little Sister"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slight - SLIGHT - sexual content. The slightest. The most slight. We're talking. Not really. Worth noting.

Chapter Twenty - Eight: September 1st – September 2nd, 1994, Hogwarts

The rain was coming down in sheets as the train rumbled up to the castle. We all stepped off the train together, the four of us rushing towards a carriage to try and keep as dry as possible.

“I feel bad for Elena, having to cross the lake in this,” Harry sighed.

“She’s really starting off Hogwarts on the right foot,” I nodded with a frown as the carriage rattled and rolled through the water and cobblestones up to the castle. Lightning flashed dramatically and we all managed to scurry into the castle. The real feat was sneaking by Peeves, who was dropping water balloons on students, and who was currently being screamed at by Professor McGonagall as we rushed inside and took our seats at the Gryffindor table, soaking wet.

“Hey Harry, Maggie, Hermione, Neville,” Ginny beamed when we sat across from her. I immediately sat next to George on the other side of Harry and he grinned at me as well.

“Hey Gin,” Neville smiled at her and wrung out his tie of water onto the ground below the table, “I need some sort of drying spell.”

“I think we learn them in sixth year in charms,” Hermione commented in response.

“Darn, something I will never learn,” I grinned.

“What house do you think your sister will be in?” George asked.

“No idea,” I frowned, “Actually… any house except for Gryffindor really.”

“Shame,” Fred shook his head sadly.

I looked up to the long table and frowned.

“Who d’you think is the next Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?” I asked.

“Maybe they couldn’t find anyone to do it? I mean people think the job’s jinxed, don’t they?” Hermione responded in puzzlement.

“But then what would they do, Hermione? It’s not like they can just cut the subject,” Fred responded with a grin. Hermione raised an eyebrow at him and turned back to face the table again.

“I’m starving,” George grumbled next to me.

“They are taking their time,” Harry agreed.

“I’m sure the students are all sopping wet and need help,” Hermione answered reasonably.

“We need help drying up too,” Neville rolled his eyes.

“They’re _First-Years_ , Neville,” Hermione scolded.

At that moment though Professor McGonagall came in, dripping wet, leading the train of first years up to the front of the Hall. A very short boy with mousy hair was wearing Hagrid’s Moleskin overcoat, making him look like he was draped in a tent. I could see my sister, her red hair pulled into side braids. She was standing next to a girl around her height, with wavy, dirty blonde hair that she had pulled into a ponytail. She was somewhat tanned, with a large nose, and large lips; she had a very proud expression on her face.

Professor McGonagall placed the Sorting Hat on the stool and the tear in the brim opened, bursting into song.

“ _A thousand years or more ago_  
When I was newly sewn  
There lived four wizards of renown   
Whose names are still well known:  
Bold Gryffindor, from wild moor,  
Fair Ravenclaw, from glen,  
Sweet Hufflepuff, from valley broad,  
Shrewd Slytherin, from fen.  
They shared a wish, a hope, a dream,  
They hatched a daring plan  
To educate young sorcerers  
Thus Hogwarts School began.  
Now each of these four founders  
Formed their own House, for each  
Did value different virtues  
in the ones they had to teach.  
By Gryffindor, the bravest were  
Prized far beyond the rest;  
For Ravenclaw, the cleverest  
Would always be the best;  
For Hufflepuff, hard workers were  
Most worth of admission;  
And power-hungry Slytherin  
Loved those of great ambition.  
While still alive they did divide  
Their favorites from the throng,  
Yet how to pick the worthy ones  
When they were dead and gone?  
‘Twas Gryffindor who found the way,  
He whipped me off his head  
The founders put some brains in me  
So I could choose instead!  
Now slip me snug about your ears,  
I’ve never yet been wrong,  
I’ll have a look inside your mind  
And tell where you belong!”

Since my sister was going to be sorted, I made sure to pay close attention to her future classmates and the names of the people going up, for the first time since I was sorted myself.

“Ackerley, Stewart!” A shaking boy walked up to the stool and sat down.

“RAVENCLAW!”

“Baddock, Malcolm!”

“SLYTHERIN!”

“Branstone, Eleanor!”

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

“Cauldwell, Owen!”

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

“Creevey, Dennis!”

I recognized the name and the boy with the sopping wet overcoat walked up. He looked remarkably like Collin, his older brother.

“GRYFFINODR!” The hat shouted and the little boy ran down eagerly to sit with his brother.

“Dewar, Claire!”

The blonde girl who had been standing next to my sister walked up. She had a very confident smile on her face and you could tell that she would be remarkably pretty when she got older.

The hat took its time on her; after a long pause, it finally opened its brim and shouted, “SLYTHERIN!”

I frowned, hoping that wouldn’t influence my sister at all.

The list went on.

“Dobbs, Emma!”

“RAVENCLAW!”

“Edgecomb, Nia!”

“GRYFFINDOR!”

The next Gryffindor was another blonde girl, her hair going down to the small of her back as she skipped down to join our table.

“Everett, Katherine!”

The hat took barely two seconds before it shouted, “GRYFFINDOR!”

The girl was darkly tanned, much like myself in her complexion honestly, with long brown hair braided down her back. She looked like she didn’t want to make any friends at all and I hoped that she would bond with my similarly minded sister.

“Fitzgerald, Collin!”

“RAVENCLAW!”

“Flint, Vincent!”

“SLYTHERIN!”

“Fudge, Luke!”

“HUFFLEPUFF!”

“Goldstein, Nathaniel!”

“RAVENCLAW!”

“Greengrass, Astoria!”

“SLYTHERIN!”

“Harper, Nick!”

“SLYTHERIN!”

“Hornby, Caroline!”

“RAVENCLAW!”

“Hughes, Lisa!”

“RAVENCLAW!”

“Johnson, Elena!”

I felt panic enter my soul as my little sister followed Lisa Hughes up to the stool. I gripped George’s hand and he held mine tightly as the hat took its time with her too, seemingly debating. She looked fairly calm underneath it, until –

“SLYTHERIN!”

“ _No_ ,” I groaned, burying my face in my hands as my sister walked down to the Slytherin table. She sat with the Claire girl, but on her other side the boy who had preceded her – Nick Harper – slid over father away from her. In fact, most of the Slytherins moved away from her as “Jones, Gwyneth” was sorted into Hufflepuff.

“Oh no,” Harry whispered when he noticed the same thing.

“She’s not going to have many friends,” Hermione murmured sadly.

George frowned, looking troubled as well, watching my sister with concern as eventually only Claire was sitting by her. I was surprised she stayed.

Thomas Leach and Phillip Levitt came over to join us at the Gryffindor table, and Mei Li followed as well. Laura Madley and Peter Marlow went to Hufflepuff. Peter Marlow was a blonde boy who looked very cheerful and appreciative of everyone around him, which made an impression on me. Then Natalie McDonald went to Gryffindor, followed immediately by Toshiko Nogi. William O’Callaghan also went to Gryffindor. Jimmy Peaks also came to Gryffindor; Graham Pritchard went to Slytherin, Orla Quirke to Ravenclaw, Jennifer Rosenthal to Slytherin, and Barbara Russell to Hufflepuff. The list continued. Ignatius Smith went to Ravenclaw followed by Emily Stevenson. Asgar Sury went to Hufflepuff with Vanessa Taylor following him. Samantha Thompson went to Slytherin, Hari Tushar went to Ravenclaw, Sean Watson went to Slytherin and finally Kevin Whitby went to Hufflepuff.

“I can’t believe it,” I moaned when the sorting had finished, staring over at my sister and her friend who were now completely isolated. Claire, however, looked rather pompous about her position, as though she was better than everyone else for being Elena’s friend willingly. And perhaps, in a way, she was.

Professor Dumbledore got to his feet, opening his arms wide and declaring, “Well, tuck in everyone!”

I piled food onto my plate but I found I wasn’t hungry much. I had never been this upset at a sorting ceremony. I kept looking up at Elena and seeing how she wasn’t touching her food much, either.

“Try to eat, Maggie,” George murmured, “You’ve got to have something.”

“I’m not hungry,” I responded blankly. Harry nodded next to me, pushing his plate away.

“You should eat, you know,” Nearly Headless Nick reprimanded next to us, “The House-Elves worked very hard in the kitchens all evening and –“

 _Clang_.

Hermione had knocked over her goblet in horror and I turned to look at her in shock.

“There are house elves _here_?” she gasped, “At _Hogwarts_?”

“Um… yeah?” I asked, frowning at her, “They work in the kitchens, don’t they?”

“There’s loads of them,” George nodded.

“I’ve never seen _one_!” Hermione cried.

“They’re always in the kitchen, aren’t they?” I asked calmly.

“They come out at night to see to fires and things, but you aren’t supposed to see them,” Nearly Headless Nick added on.

“Why didn’t you _tell_ me?” Hermione asked, looking horrified.

“I thought you knew?” I responded, grimacing. Hermione looked at her own plate of food and pushed it away as well.

“Slave labor made this food. I refuse to eat it.”

I had never thought it that way before, and it was startling to consider. Luckily, I had already lost my appetite.

Eventually everyone made their way through the rest of the meal and then pudding, Harry Hermione and I just staring at our plates. Dumbledore then finally came up to the head of the staff table, looking around at all of us with a smile on his wise old face.

“So! Now that we are all fed and watered,” Dumbledore began.

Hermione made a noise of fury and Fred patted her on the shoulder.

“Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to tell you that the list of objects forbidden inside the castle has this year been extended to include Screaming Yo-yos, Fanged Frisbees, and Ever-Bashing boomerangs. The full list comprises some four hundred and thirty seven items, I believe, and can be viewed in Mr. Filch’s office, if anybody would like to check it.”

Fred and George grinned mischievously at each other and I giggled.

“As ever, I would like to remind you all that the forest on the grounds is out of bounds to students, as is the village of Hogsmeade to all below third year. It is also my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year.”

“ _What?!_ ” Harry gasped in protest. Fred and George both looked like they were going to punch someone.

“This is due to an event that will be starting in October, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers’ time and energy – but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts…”

The door suddenly opened as a great roll of thunder came in to the Great Hall. A man stood in the doorway to the hall, leaning on a staff, shrouded in a cloak. We all turned to look at him as lightening illuminated him. It was Alastor Moody, the friend of my parents. Harry and I looked at each other in shock as he walked up to the staff table and moved around to the other side, sitting down and drinking from a flask and eating sausages.

“He must be the new Defense against the Dark Arts teacher,” I hissed in Harry’s ear and he nodded in agreement as Professor Dumbledore assured the same thing.

Fred and George, however, looked confused.

“ _Mad-Eye Moody_?” Fred muttered irritably. Hermione looked at him, as she was sitting next to him, and frowned.

“Mad-Eye?”

“He’s a bit on the loony side. He used to be a dark-wizard catcher, went a bit crazy after the war,” Fred explained to her, turning to face her too, “This morning he had a bit of a bother – thought someone had broken into his house but no one was around. Dad had to go in and help.”

“He didn’t strike me as being overly cautious…” I frowned.

“He was terrified of everyone around him, Maggie, how could you miss that?” Harry laughed.

I rolled my eyes at him and turned my attention back to Dumbledore.

“As I was saying, we are to have the honor of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event that has not been held for over a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year.”

“YOU’RE JOSHING ME!” George roared. Everyone in the hall burst into laughter and I teasingly hugged him in amusement.

“I am _not_ joshing you, Mr. Weasley,” Professor Dumbledore smiled as he continued, “Though I would beware if I were to offer you an acid pop…”

Professor McGonagall shot him a look and Professor Dumbledore continued, “At any rate, the Triwizard Tournament… Some of you know what this involves, so I hope that those who _do_ know will forgive me for giving a short explanation and allow their attention to wander freely. The Triwizard Tournament was first established some seven hundred years ago as a friendly competition between the three largest European schools of wizardry. Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. A champion was selected to represents each school and the three champions competed in three magical tasks. The schools took it in turns to host the tournament once every five years, and it was generally agreed to be a most excellent way of establishing ties between young witches and wizards of different nationalities – until, that is, the death toll mounted so high that the tournament was discontinued.”

“Death toll?” Hermione looked alarmed. I grinned, suddenly deciding that I would definitely be trying for this.

“There have been several attempts over the centuries to reinstate the tournament, none of which has been very successful. However, our own Departments of International Magical Cooperation and Magical Games and Sports have decided the time is ripe for another attempt. We have worked hard over the summer to ensure that this time, no champion will find himself or herself in mortal danger,” Dumbledore continued.

I frowned. I did my best work when in mortal danger

“The Heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving with their shortlisted contenders in October, and the selection of the three champions will take place at Halloween. An impartial judge will decide which students are most worth to compete for the Triwizard Cup, the glory of their school, and a thousand Galleons personal prize money,” Dumbledore continued.

I felt my eyes widen and George hissed in my ear, “I’m _so_ going for it.” I nodded eagerly next to him.

“Eager though I know all of you will be to bring the Triwizard Cup to Hogwarts, the Heads of the participating schools, along with the Ministry of Magic, have agreed to impose an age restriction on contenders this year. Only students who are of age – that is to say, seventeen years or older – will be allowed to put forward their names for consideration. This,” Dumbledore paused as Fred, George and I made sounds of protest, “Is a measure we feel is necessary, given that the tournament tasks will still be difficult and dangerous, whatever precautions we take, and it is highly unlikely that students below sixth and seventh year will be able to cope with them. I will personally be ensuring that no underage student hoodwinks our impartial judge into making them Hogwarts champion. I therefore beg you not to waste your time submitting yourself if you are under seventeen. The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving in October and remaining with us for the greater part of this year. I know that you will all extend every courtesy to our foreign guests while they are with us, and will give your whole-hearted support to the Hogwarts champion when he or she is selected. And now, it is late, and I know how important it is to you all to be alert and rested as you enter your lessons tomorrow morning. Bedtime! Off you go!” Dumbledore finished.

We all started walking up to the Common Room together, Fred and George grumbling to themselves.

“There’s got to be a way to get around this,” Fred grunted.

“Seriously, this isn’t fair, we turn seventeen in April!” George agreed.

“We’ve had the same amount of schooling as someone in our year who has already turned seventeen, what’s the difference?” Fred grumbled.

“I think it’s a good thing,” Hermione declared firmly, “It sounds very dangerous and your mum wouldn’t like the idea of you two risking your necks for a bit of gold.”

“A _bit_ of _gold_?” Fred reeled, “Hermione, it’s _a thousand galleons_. That’s more than any us have ever seen, or are ever likely to see in one place during our entire lifetimes.”

“It’s not worth you risking your neck!” Hermione responded firmly. I laughed slightly at her response; as there had been many things Hermione had risked her own neck for over the years – a stone that turned all metal into gold, for one. But there were different principles at work in that particular situation. Harry suddenly looked embarrassed, staring down at his plate as though he was hiding something. 

I rolled my eyes and stated, “It’s a moot point. If Dumbledore is doing this, then there’s no hope to trick the ‘impartial judge,’ whoever he is.”

Harry had a rather iffy look on his face as we all rose up the steps to the tower.

“I dunno if I’d want to do it,” Harry paused, “I mean, a thousand galleons and eternal glory would be nice, but…”

“You’ve had all the excitement you’ll need for a lifetime?” I laughed.

“Precisely,” he nodded seriously.

“Maybe there’ll be a dragon and you can ride on that one, too,” Neville joked.

“Don’t make empty promises Neville,” I sighed.

“Don’t worry, you’ll find a dragon again,” he chuckled as we entered the Common Room. George then pulled me aside, leading me to a corner of the Common Room.

“You tired?” he asked cheerfully, his hand suddenly on my waist.

“Um, yeah,” I smiled awkwardly, trying to move away from him, “I’m sorry George, I’m exhausted.”

He sighed, pressing the side of his face to mine, “Really?”

“Really,” I leaned up and pressed my lips to his quickly and then backing away, “Tomorrow, I promise.”

“Alright, alright,” George nodded, releasing me, “I understand. Night Maggie,” he squeezed my hand and walked up the boy’s staircase. I walked up the girl’s and clamored into bed, eagerly finding myself comfortable at last.

I walked down to the Great Hall upon waking and sat with my friends, nestling between George and Harry and grabbing a bagel.

“Morning looks good,” Neville offered calmly, looking down at the timetable that Hermione had just handed me, “Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures. This afternoon we’ve got double Arithmancy,” he sighed, “Great. We’re doing advanced calculus date predictions this term.”

“You’ll be fine. I have to deal with the great toad Trelawney,” Harry grumbled.

“You should have dropped it too Harry, and I’ll always say so,” Hermione stated calmly as she read the day’s _Daily Prophet_.

“Anything blasphemous or incriminating in the paper?” I asked curiously as I felt George’s hand pat me on the knee, on the rare space of skin between the end of my skirt and the start of my knee sock. I jumped slightly but managed to pass it off as an itch as I nervously nibbled at my bagel. George smirked slightly as his fingers squeezed my knee. I felt both thrilled and terrified at the same time as I tried to look innocent and finished my food in the least efficient way possible.

“Nothing new,” Hermione shook her head and frowned, putting the paper down.

“It’s quiet for now,” Fred frowned.

A small silence settled over the table as we all stared at each other in mild concern. The lack of noise on the Death Eater front was concerning to us all.

“Shall we go to Herbology?” Hermione asked calmly as George’s hand started to go underneath my skirt and I jumped a little more.

“Sounds good,” I agreed, standing up like nothing was happening with George and grabbing my bag. He looked up at me expectantly and I realized that he wanted a kiss, which I somehow managed to oblige without blushing.

“Happy Birthday Maggie,” George smiled at me and I smiled back, now flushing a little bit. We started walking off to Herbology, Harry Hermione Neville and I, with them all instantly throwing in their own statements of happy birthday as we walked down to the greenhouses.

I stood by Neville, as we always did, Neville smiling at me slightly as we looked at the giant thick plant slugs in front of us.

“What d’you reckon that is?” I asked curiously, looking at the thing and frowning at it.

“Bubotuber. No question,” Neville grinned just as Professor Sprout walked up in front of the class and confirmed this.

“They need squeezing. You will collect the pus –“

“Pus?” Seamus Finnegan gagged. Neville immediately looked like he had been given a great challenge. I smirked slightly in response.

“Pus, Finnegan, Pus,” Professor Sprout snapped, “And it’s extremely valuable, so don’t waste it. You will collect the pus, I say, in those bottles. Wear your dragon-hide gloves, it can do funny things to the skin when undiluted, Bubotuber pus.”

Neville and I immediately began popping the Bubotubers, immediately entering into a competition as to who could pop the most number, somehow unfazed by the sheer disgusting nature of the situation. And, though Neville won the competition, we as a pair turned in the most amount of pus of all, high fiving as we left the greenhouse early and went to sit out near Hagrid’s Hut under a tree.

“You make a worthy opponent in Herbology,” Neville grinned.

“Gotta keep the star on his toes,” I laughed happily, poking him in the side.

“You have animals, I have plants and fungi. We’ve got the living world covered,” Neville smiled.

“Except microscopic organisms,” I laughed.

“Oh lord. Who cares about those?” Neville rolled his eyes.

“Well, people with diseases I expect,” I giggled. Neville poked me again in amusement.

“How is your gran’s research doing?” Neville asked happily as I started playing with the grass underneath my hand.

“Good, she’s working on making sickle claws now,” I nodded, “It’s difficult, though. That’s a complex bit of anatomy.”

“Is it really safe? To make something with those raptor claw things?” Neville grinned, “You showed me Jurassic Park this summer, Maggie. I’m never going to forgive you. I’m going to have nightmares for ages.”

“I drew you a picture of what real _Velociraptors_ were like!” I protested.

“You never know what weird monster they could unearth in those deserts,” Neville shook his head.

“At any rate, Cheepers is small and domesticated. The claw shouldn’t be a problem,” I reassured.

Neville grinned in thanks and then paused for a while. He seemed torn as he blurted out, “Are you happy?”

“Course I am,” I laughed, before frowning, “But I assume you don’t mean in general.”

“I mean with George,” Neville clarified, sighing, “I mean, does he make you happy?”

“Yeah,” I mumbled in embarrassed response, “Why d’you ask?”

“Just cause you’re one of my best friends, and I don’t want to see you hurt,” Neville quickly responded, almost as though he didn’t want me to say anything after that question.

“Thanks Nev,” I smiled, “I can count on you to kick his ass if need be?”

“You can always count on that,” Neville beamed as Hermione and Harry, along with the rest of the class, came out and joined us as we got to our feet.

“Hey you guys, ready for Creatures class?” Hermione asked as we reached Hagrid’s Hut.

“Of course,” I laughed as we walked over to the class and stood next to Hagrid. He was standing next to a bunch of crates, a strange rattling noise emitting from them.

“Mornin’! Be’er wait fer the Slytherins, they won’ want ter miss this – Blast-Ended Skrewts!”

“Huh?” I asked in confusion. I’d never heard of that.

Hagrid pointed down in the crates for us to see somewhat mutilated looking lobsters, pale and greasy, with legs sticking out at strange angles and no clear cephalization to be seen. I grimaced and looked over at Harry, who looked rather ill. Each was half a foot long, and there were around a hundred in each crate, like little maggot scorpions moving over one another.

“On’y jus’ hatched!” Hagrid declared, “So yeh’ll be able ter raise ‘em yerselves! Thought we’d make a bit of a project of it!”

“Um… what exactly are they?” Hermione asked. I looked and saw the Slytherins had walked up behind us, but there were only two – Pansy Parkinson and Theodore Nott. No Draco Malfoy to be found. I turned to Harry and beamed widely and he looked equally excited back at me.

“Looks like Malfoy dropped this class,” Neville hissed happily to us.

It seemed Pansy had not been informed of this, as she appeared peeved to be alone amongst all the Gryffindors and Nott.

Hagrid, however, was having trouble answering Hermione’s question.

“The skrewts are interesin’ creatures, but we’ll discuss that in the next lesson. Yer jus’ feedin’ ‘em today. Now, yeh’ll wan’ ter try ‘em on a few diff’rent things – I’ve never had ‘em before, not sure what they’ll go fer – I got ant eggs an’ frog livers an’ a bit o’grass snake – just try ‘em out with a bit of each,” Hagrid ordered.

“Joy,” Neville sighed as we four took to a crate and tried to feed them, however we couldn’t seem to figure out anything that they enjoyed eating. In fact, I wasn’t sure they had mouths.

I reached down into a crate and tried to give a skrewt a snake when I got stung, the end exploding and a burn appearing on my hand.

“Hagrid!” Neville immediately shouted.

“Ah, yeah, that happens when they blast off,” Hagrid explained quickly as walked over, “We’ll get yeh some ointment.”

“Thanks Hagrid,” I nodded.

“What’s the pointy thing?” Dean Thomas asked curiously.

“Some of ‘em got stings,” Hagrid eagerly explained, “I reckon they’re males… the females’ve got sorta sucker things on their bellies… I think they might be ter suck blood.”

“Great,” Pansy Parkinson sneered, “These are definitely things I want as a pet and not something I’d call a pest in any way.”

“Just because they’re not very pretty, it doesn’t mean they’re not useful,” Hermione snapped, “Dragon blood’s amazing magical, but you wouldn’t want a dragon for a pet, would you?”

Neville elbowed me in the side and I shook my head calmly, grimacing down at my hand burn. Eventually we finished with the class and walked back up to the castle.

“Alright, usually I’m on board with Hagrid, but even I have some lines that cannot be crossed,” I grumbled.

“Yeah, I’m not really a fan of them,” Neville sighed.

“At least they’re small,” Harry offered.

“For now,” Hermione sighed, “I think we need to get rid of the lot of them before they start attacking us.”

As we walked up to the Great Hall Hermione held me back with a jolt.

“I want to get to the library, to start working on the elf liberation society,” Hermione explained, “Do you want to come with me?”

I remembered George wanting to eat lunch with me and maybe hanging out afterwards, but at the same time, I wasn’t really eager for a similar situation to the morning so soon. I had much too many feelings about the situation to sort them out now.

“Sure, let’s just skip lunch. Are you even hungry?” I asked. She shook her head and beamed.

“I’m glad you’re on board with this, I was _so_ afraid I’d have to do this alone,” Hermione sighed.

“Don’t worry, I want to help them too,” I laughed as we headed up to the library. I never thought I would willingly go to the library with Hermione, but I guess all words are eventually eaten.

We spent that whole afternoon eagerly looking through law books – a situation I wasn’t entirely happy about. Eventually, Hermionen realized we were making such slow progress that she had me take notes as she dictated to me what to write down – a task I found myself much better equipped for.

“So those are all the stipulations on House-elf attire _alone_ ,” Hermione groaned, “Merlin, this is going to take a while isn’t it?”

“Forever,” I nodded, “I can only imagine how many laws there are.”

“A lot,” Hermione nodded, “And plenty of judicial precents. The presecution against this species is _ancient_. As in, before the Norman conquest _ancient_.”

“This is just horrifying,” I groaned, “And you heard that elf at the World Cup. Most of them are dillusioned into thinking its okay!”

“A part of me is worried that we’ll never make any progress for that exact reason,” Hermione paused, “But enslavement is never okay, no matter what.”

“Of course its not,” I nodded in eager agreement, “It’s almost time for Arithmancy.”

“Oh bullocks, we have to get going don’t we?” Hermione groaned.

“I dare say so,” I nodded and we rapidly packed up, running down the corridors to the Arithmancy tower. We managed to get to class on time, where Neville was waiting for us with an expression of amusment.

“Where were you at lunch?” he asked as we sat on either side of him, hurriedly pulling out our textbooks.

“We were looking up – oh we’ll tell you later,” Hermione sighed as Professor Vector walked into the room.

“George was looking for you,” Neville explained in a hushed whisper.

“I know, I forgot that I promised to see him at lunch,” I lied smoothly, starting to scratch out notes about calculus.

“Eh, I’m sure he’ll forgive you,” Neville shrugged, writing out his own notes. That first class was exhausting and terrifying – the maths were significantly harder already than last year. Neville was determined, however, and immediately after class was over he left to go study in the library.

I wandered to the Great Hall to catch some dinner, when I ran into George again.

“Hey Maggie, I missed you at lunch,” he lamented, pulling me into a hug. I enjoyed the hug, holding on for a long time.

 _I enjoy this. When it’s simple_ , I thought to myself.

“I was… researching some stuff with Hermione,” I explained.

George nodded, “Alright. Is everything okay?”

“Yes… I mean…” I pulled him aside to a less conspicuous part of the corridor, “I just… um… felt uncomfortable at breakfast.”

“Oh,” George flushed, “I’m sorry Maggie.”

“It’s okay, I’m just not quite ready for… a lot of physical stuff yet,” I blushed even more than he did.

“Of course not. You literally turned fifteen today,” George looked angry with himself, “I feel really stupid right now.”

“Don’t! I mean, we act like we’re the same age,” I reassured, “It’s perfectly understandable.”

“Alright,” George paused, “We’ll go slowly. I’m really sorry.”

“I forgive you, seriously,” I reassured again, patting his arm.

He still looked angry for a minute before smiling at me, “Happy Birthday, again. Here’s your present,” he smiled and handed me a wrapped parcel. When I unwrapped it, it revealed a large photo album, with pictures of us and Fred littered inside.

“When did you take these?” I gasped in amazement.

“Just at random points since first year,” he smiled, “It’s always just been idle times. Fred’s taken some too. I just… I spent some gold on the camera early on cause I knew I wanted to remember all the fun we were having. I had enough pictures after this summer to finish an album, and I duplicated the photos and made an album for you.”

“Wow,” I sighed as I looked at some great pictures of us goofing around on the grounds, “Thank you _so much_ George.”

“Of course. Anything for my girl,” George smiled and kissed my forehead. I blushed furiously and hugged him again. We walked into the Great Hall and happily ate together before going back to the Common Room, when we spent the rest of the evening snuggling together on the couch. Few people bothered us, and I enjoyed the simple contact again, pleased that the awkwardness of the morning was over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is so short - I'm still editing my old version of the story, and I didn't really have many scenes I could add to make this chapter longer.


	30. Chapter Twenty - Nine: September 3 - September 5, 1994, Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "When you see yourself in a crowded room 
> 
> Do your fingers itch? Are you pistol-whipped? 
> 
> Do you step in line or release the glitch? 
> 
> Can you fall asleep with a panic switch?" 
> 
> ~ Silversun Pickups, "Panic Switch"

Chapter Twenty-Nine: September 3rd – September 5th, 1994

The next day I met with Professor McGonagall again. Today we started the hard part – actually transforming.

"I don't expect anything to happen on the first day," she stated grimly as I stood before her, as disheveled in my uniform as I could possibly be. "However, we will continue until you do, understood?"

"Or until I'm so exhausted I can't continue," I verified.

"Yes, that goes without saying. Alright," she pulled out her wand, "Point your wand at yourself and say,  _Anima pur._ "

I did so, concentrating my face and remembering all I had learned about the transformation. Of course, nothing happened.

"Not surprising. Again," Professor McGonagall ordered.

And I did it again. And again. I cast the spell on myself over and over again with no seeming result. Finally, it drew close to eight in the evening, and I was exhausted.

"You may go. Tomorrow we may see some progress," Professor McGonagall ordered. I nodded and left her office, collapsing on my bed in exhaustion. Even though nothing had happened to me, I could still feel the energy draining from me every time I cast the spell.

The next day I was walking with George in the hallway, simply holding hands as we headed together to lunch. I was happiest like this – just walking with him, no invasion of personal space or sudden intimacy. Just us. He had taken what I had said to heart, calmly respecting my boundaries while still showing me much-welcomed affection.

As we walked, an unwelcome voice rang out behind us.

"Oi! Johnson, Weasley!" We turned to see Draco Malfoy walking up behind us.

"What do you want?" I snapped.

"Manners, Johnson," Malfoy sang, "Your dad's in the paper, Weasley! So's your mum, Johnson!"

George took the paper from Malfoy wearily and read, me reading over his shoulder as well. It was by Rita Skeeter – so I was already hissing under my breath.

Severe Mistakes at the Ministry For Magic

It seems as though the Ministry of Magic has not yet gotten its act together after the events of the World Cup,  _writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent._  Recently under fire for poor crowd control and inability to save human life, and still unable to account for the disappearance of one of its witches, the Ministry was plunged into fresh embarrassment yesterday by the antics of Arnold Weasley of the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office. Arnold Weasley, who was charged with possession of a flying car two years ago, was yesterday involved in a tussle with several Muggle law-keepers ("policemen") over a number of highly aggressive dustbins. Mr. Weasley appears to have rushed to the aid of "Mad-Eye" Moody, along with Melinda Johnson, recently appointed head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation. The aged ex-Auror retired from the Ministry when he was no longer able to tell the difference between a handshake and attempted murder. Mr. Weasley and Mrs. Johnson found, upon arrival at Mr. Moody's heavily guarded house, that Mr. Moody had once again raised a false alarm. Several memories were modified before the policemen could be assuaged, but both refused to answer as to why they involved the Ministry in such a scandal.

I looked up from the article and snarled at Malfoy, "And why, pray tell, do you feel the need to point this out to us?"

"Oh, just thought you could marvel over it together. I'm simply amazed your mum is the head of a department – I mean, she  _is_  a Mudblood…" Malfoy commented.

I snarled and threw myself at Malfoy, but George immediately locked his arms around me and held me back.

"Good job you've got your little protector here. Granted, he is probably teeming with jealousy – after all, his father is such an idiot that he doesn't even know what a promotion is," Malfoy sniggered.

Now George was launching himself at Malfoy, the two of us rushing forward to punch him in the face. At that moment, a loud voice rang out in the corridor.

"Enough! The both of yeh, enough!"

We looked up to see Alastor Moody walking towards the three of us, pushing George and me off of Malfoy.

"No fighin' in the corridors! Now get to class," he turned away from us.

"Too bad your mother looks like she smelled something horrible all the time – prolly cause she has a git like you for a son," I hissed.

"Don't insult my mother, Johnson," Malfoy snapped, "Not when you have that filth for yours."

"I'll do whatever I like, you prat," I snarled, turning around with George to walk away. A loud BANG occurred and I felt something hot graze my cheek, and I was just about to turn around and face Malfoy when another BANG occurred.

"OH NO YOU DON'T, LADDIE!"

George and I turned to see Moody standing over a completely white ferret, which was shivering on the floor where Malfoy had just been. Moody looked at us, saw that I was alright, and turned back to the ferret. Moody pointed his wand at the ferret and grunted, "I don't like people who attack when their opponent's back's turned! Stinking, cowardly, scummy thing to do… Never – do – that – again," Moody said all this as he waved his wand up and down, forcing the ferret to bounce up and down from the floor.

"Professor Moody!"

I turned again to see Professor McGonagall rushing down the stairs and coming up to Moody, her arms filled with books and looking amazed.

"Hello, Professor McGonagall," Moody greeted calmly, still bouncing Malfoy. I was having a lot of trouble not laughing.

"What – what are you doing?" Professor McGonagall demanded.

"Teaching."

"Teach – Moody,  _is that a student_?!" Professor McGonagall shrieked, the books falling from her arms.

"Yep."

"No!" Professor McGonagall cried, waving her wand and forcing Draco Malfoy to reappear (unfortunately,) lying in a pile on the floor.

"We  _never_  use Transfiguration as a punishment! Surely Professor Dumbledore told you that?" Professor McGonagall demanded.

"He might've mentioned it, yeah," Moody grumbled, "But I thought a nice, sharp shock would-"

"We give the students  _detention!_  Or speak to the offender's Head of House!"

"Right, I'll do that, then," Moody grunted, looking at Malfoy scathingly. Malfoy looked like a withering ball of humiliation on the ground, glaring at Moody and muttering (true to form) about his father.

"Oh yeah?" Moody remarked softly, "Well I know your old father, boy… You go ahead and tell him, you tell him that Moody's keepin' a close eye on his son… you tell him that from me… Now, your Head of House'll be Snape, right?"

"Yes," Malfoy snapped.

"Another old friend," Moody snorted, "I've been looking forward to a little chat with him… Alright come on." Moody grabbed Malfoy's arm and dragged him away to the dungeons.

I was so proud of my ability to not clap throughout this affair, though I admit my feathers were rather ruffled that I was stopped from facing him myself. I turned back to George and he had his eyes closed.

"What is it George?" I laughed, walking over him to hold his hand again.

"I'm trying to etch that image in my head so I can have it with me for eternity," George replied, his eyes still closed, "Malfoy, the amazing bouncing ferret."

I burst into laughter, holding tightly to his arm, "I'll be sure to let Harry know."

George grinned happily at me and said, “I say our next prank is to fill the dungeons with ferrets.”

“I second this motion,” I laughed happily.

“Glad to know you have my back,” George beamed widely.

I smirked and kissed George on the cheek, walking to lunch and sitting down with our usual group. Neville was pouring over an Arithmancy textbook, brow furrowed tightly, his hands running anxiously through his hair. Harry, Fred and Ginny were in the midst of a heated debate over the precise composition of the tasks of the Tournament. And Hermione was scarfing down so much food so rapidly I thought she was about to choke.

"Hermione?" I asked in surprise, sitting down and grabbing a roll as George joined in with Harry and his siblings' discussion, "What are you - ?"

"I'm going back to the library," Hermione explained between bites, "I have to keep working."

"It's the beginning of term, 'Mione," Neville remarked, frowning. I frowned at him. I had never heard the term before, and wasn't aware it was a nickname for her. It was much too affectionate for my taste.

"You're studying," Hermione shot back, setting down her fork with a clatter, "Maggie, you coming?"

Everyone stopped what they were doing to look at me in surprise. I widened my eyes with my own shock but replied, "Sorry Hermione, I promised George I'd spend some time with him at lunch today."

“Good to know that what you said wasn’t a lie,” George commented.

“I wouldn’t lie to you,” I responded defensively, looking at him in shock.

“I know, I’m just… insecure,” George admitted softly to me, so the others couldn’t hear.

“You shouldn’t be –“

“I just… when you told me you felt uncomfortable I was worried you had lied about where you were to not hurt my feelings,” George explained.

“Don’t worry,”I paused, “I wasn’t lying.”

“Good,” George kissed the top of my head, “Cause we should be completely honest with each other.”

“Of course,” I agreed. George kissed me again, now on the lips. I flushed slightly and concentrated on my food, which didn't escape the notice of Neville. As I gathered my books and bid George goodbye with a small kiss, Neville followed me out of the Great Hall.

"You don't have Ancient Runes right now," I remarked, watching him in confusion as he shuffled along next to me, "Not to mention, you were going to really start studying Arithmancy early."

"I can get more work done in the library where Harry and the Weasleys aren't chattering," Neville paused, "Did you seriously only skip lunch two days ago because Hermione asked you for help on one of her research projects?"

Oh good, he called her Hermione this time.

"Why do you ask?" I answered innocently, not meeting his eyes as I focused on the corridor ahead of me.

Neville stopped me in my tracks and pulled me aside in the corridor, letting kids pass us in a flurry of robes and chatter. He muttered so that I could only barely hear him over the din of students, "Because George seemed genuinely hurt that you weren't there, okay? He kept looking for you and asking everyone if they had seen you. He seemed to think that something could be wrong."

I swallowed nervously and stated in what even sounded to me as a fake cheery voice, "Nothing's wrong with George at all."

Neville scowled at me, an expression I rarely saw on his face. "You're lying."

"No I'm not," I insisted.

"Yes you are. When you lie you always make an effort to sound more English, and you sound practically Cockney right now," Neville snapped.

I looked at him in irritation, "And what gives you the right to ask and know if anything's wrong with George?" I folded my arms defiantly across my chest.

"Because I'm your best friend," Neville responded calmly, seemingly pacified by my return to my usual accent, "I always look out for you."

I flushed slightly in spite of myself, "Well don't worry about this, okay? It's not a big deal."

Neville frowned again, "What is it, come on."

"I'm going to be late –"

"You left lunch early, come  _on._ "

"I've never known you to be this forceful, Neville Longbottom," I hissed. Something in the way I said it made Neville's eyes soften slightly.

"Sorry, Mags," he lamented, and I was startled by yet another nickname, "I just… I've seen you hurt so many times since we met. I don't want to see you hurt when you're not, you know, trying to save the world."

I smiled a little in spite of myself, "Thanks Neville… Um… let's just say that the age gap between me and George was brought somewhat into relief and I was a little startled."

Neville sighed, "That's all I'm getting, isn't it?"

I nodded, shrugging my shoulders.

"Fine," Neville shook his head in annoyance, "Stubborn as ever."

"That's me!" I replied brightly, twisting my face into a much too large grin.

"Well if you need to talk about it, please, just come to me, okay?" Neville squeezed my arm, "Please."

"I will," I answered honestly, "Seriously."

"Thanks Mags," he repeated the nickname, making me smile a little in a more honest fashion, "See you later." And he turned, walking through the corridor on the way to the library, as I leaned against the wall and exhaled loudly.

I quickly rushed along and sat next to Hermione in Ancient Runes, stacking my Rune dictionaries on the corner of my desk and frantically searching for a quill in my bag as she looked at me in amusement.

"Everything alright?" she asked, smirking at me as I managed to find a quill and set it neatly on my desk.

"Yes," I snapped, and at her expression I sighed, "Sorry, yeah, I guess."

"You've been acting odd since yesterday," Hermione rolled her eyes, "Someone piss you off?"

"Other than Malfoy, no," I shook my head, "But don't worry about me too much. How goes the research?"

"Brilliantly, thank you for asking," Hermione beamed, "I've started making buttons. Oh  _do_  help out again won't you?"

"'Course," I smiled, "I will again tomorrow."  _Now that I have to avoid spending time with Neville_ and _George in the same place._

"Excellent," Hermione cheered, "I want you to read up on former House Elf Magic legislation… There are a lot of really horrible entrenched laws against them utilizing magic and I feel like, well, if you read them yourself rather than hear me complain about them, you could get really riled up."

"Counting on my anger issues?" I snorted, "You sly minx."

"I try," Hermione practically sang as Professor Babbling came out in front of the class. At the same time I looked over to the desk next to me and noticed Sam Lee sitting down. He was on the shorter side, a few inches taller than Harry. He had really long black hair that practically covered his entire face, Korean facial features, extremely pale skin, and oval glasses that looked like they were constantly slipping down the bridge of his nose. However he didn't look overly nerdy apart from the glasses; his tie was lose around his neck, he refused to wear his jumper, and he seemed to have some sort of tattoo on his arm, which you could just begin to see with the sleeves rolled up. Hermione tapped me on the shoulder as I observed him leaning on his hand and doodling on a piece of paper.

"What  _are_  you staring at?" she hissed as Professor Babbling wrote the topics to be covered this term on the blackboard.

"Nothing," I hissed back, frowning slightly. I wondered why I had never noticed him before. He certainly wasn't unremarkable; he was quite handsome and definitely interesting in the strange air of mystery he held around him. I thought about Neville and how easily he avoided Harry and me in the beginning of first year.

 _Some people can just stay invisible if they want to_ , I thought shrewdly as I started copying down notes on Aztec characters,  _but I guess once I notice people they can't stay hidden forever_.

Class ended and I split off from Hermione to approach him. He looked up from his books and seemed to be extraordinarily confused that I was standing in front of him.

"Hi," I extended my hand, "Maggie Johnson."

"I know you," Sam frowned, not taking my hand, "You're the girl that bites people."

Hermione burst into laughter behind me and I scowled, "Yeah."

"Right," Sam paused, "Well if you'll excuse me, I have to get to Muggle Studies." He packed up his books and walked out of there, not even rushing just taking his time as he left, as though he knew I wouldn't follow.

Hermione was still laughing so I turned around and stuck my tongue out at her.

"Sorry Maggie, but come on. Lee doesn't talk to  _anyone_ ," she chortled.

"No one?" I frowned in confusion.

"Absolutely no one. He sits by himself in the Great Hall, has his own corner of the library to study in that  _no one_ encroaches, and when he's not in the library or in class no one knows where he is, he never is in the Ravenclaw Common Room," Hermione snorted.

"How do you even know that?" I snapped.

"Because, being the smartest Gryffindor, Ravenclaws, and I tend to talk," Hermione rolled her eyes, "Last year the only other people in Muggle Studies I could talk to were Ravenclaws, and they all hissed about how Sam  _never_  talked to anyone. And first year I tried to be friends with him, but he would have none of it.”

"You're kidding," I laughed as we left the classroom and started walking back to the Common Room.

"Oh yeah. He seemed lonely, like I was at the beginning of the year if you recall," Hermione reminded, causing me to cringe in guilt, "And he seemed studious. He always is up there with his marks, if you noticed that kind of thing. But whenever I tried to talk to him he did just what he did to you," Hermione shook her head in amusement.

“I’m just still sorry that we ditched you as friends,” I groaned.

“It was a mutual ditching, remember? We were both pretty stupid kids,” Hermione laughed.

“In my defense, _you_ followed _me_ to the third floor,” I giggled.

“Oh lord. You’ve always been a magnet for trouble,” Hermione groaned. I continued to laugh happily as we reached the Common Room.

On Thursday, we had our first class with Moody. I was somewhat excited. He was a man with whom I was familiar; he seemed edgy and like he had been out there on the front lines. George, Fred and Lee Jordan had confirmed my assessment after their first class. And, needless to say, a teacher who had really been in the thick of things was the sort of teacher I greatly appreciated.

I rushed to the classroom with Neville, Harry, and Hermione, taking our seats near the front of the class in eagerness. We were sitting right across from the Ravenclaws, with whom we had Defense with this term. Sam was, once again, sitting completely alone in the back of the room, doodling on a piece of paper and then waving his wand to make the piece of paper float above his head. On it was written the words, large enough so that I could make them out, _LEAVE ME ALONE_. I felt my eyes widen and I scowled, turning to face the front of the class. Hermione was shaking her head sadly and seemed to be holding back laughter. I swatted her upside the head just as Moody came inside.

"More violence from you, eh?" he snorted. I rolled my eyes and shrugged my shoulders. By this point it was routine.

"You should know sir, I mean my mum must have told you about it," I replied nonchalantly.

"Your mum?" Moody's good eyebrow rose in confusion. Harry and I looked together in a similar sentiment.

"Melinda Johnson…?" I offered in confusion.

"Right," Moody acknowledged.

"You met us at her party three years ago," Harry continued in confusion.

"Yes, I remember now," Moody said, turning to the blackboard. I looked at Harry and he shrugged. Moody hadn't seemed like the kind of man who would forget first encounters with people, especially Harry Potter.

Moody gestured at our books on our desks, "You can put those away. Those books, you won't need them." We all did so, me forgetting my confusion and bouncing a little in excitement.

"Right then," he continued after taking roll, "I've had a letter from Professor Lupin about this class. Seems you've had a pretty thorough grounding in tackling Dark creatures – you've covered boggarts, Red Caps, Hinkypunks, Grindylows, Kappas, and werewolves, is that right?"

We all nodded and murmured in affirmation.

"But you're behind – very behind – on dealing with curses," Moody declared, "So I'm here to bring you up to scratch on what wizards can do to each other. I've got one year to teach you how to deal with Dark –"

"You aren't staying then?" Ron Weasley commented from the back of the room, sounding dejected.

Moody's magical eye spun around to examine Ron, who looked like he wanted to melt into the floor. But after a minute he smiled, which was a rare sight indeed. I couldn't remember him having smiled at all during the party. Harry also looked startled and Neville seemed to be almost cowering in fright in front of Moody.

I scribble down a note in the corner of my desk,  _What's wrong?_  Hoping that Moody wouldn't see it. However, there would be no such luck.

"No note passin' in class, Johnson," Moody ordered. I froze but the note was already on Neville's desk. Neville read the note, looked at me and mouthed _Later._ I nodded and focused back on Moody.

"Right, you'll be Arthur Weasley's son, eh?" Moody continued, facing Ron again, "Your father got me out of a very tight corner a few days ago… So did your mum, Johnson. Yeah, I'm staying just the one year. Special favor to Dumbledore… One year, and then back to my quiet retirement."

He laughed humorlessly, and then continued on, "So – straight into it. Curses. They come in many strengths and forms. Now, according to the Ministry of Magic, I'm supposed to each you counter curses and leave it at that. I'm not supposed to show you what illegal Dark curses look like until you're in the sixth year. You're not supposed to be old enough to deal with it till then."

I snorted very audibly.

"But Professor Dumbledore's got a higher opinion of your nerves, he reckons you can cope," Moody continued like I hadn't made a sound.

"I'll say," Harry muttered under his breath. Hermione covered her mouth to mask her appreciative laughter.

"And I say, the sooner you know what you're up against, the better. How are you supposed to defend yourself against something you've never seen? A wizard who's about to put an illegal curse on you isn't going to tell you what he's about to do. He's not going to do it nice and polite to your face. You need to be prepared. You need to be alert and watchful. You need to listen to what I say to Johnson as advice to all, Mr. Longbottom."

Neville had just finished writing me a return note while Moody was focused on talking and now looked like he wanted to melt into the floor. I read the note quickly, it saying  _He gives me a strangely bad feeling, I can't explain it_. I frowned at Neville and nodded imperceptibly. He still looked like he was going to die of embarrassment. I reached to gently squeeze his arm underneath the table. Moody's magical eye swiveled to look but he didn't comment on it.

"So… do any of you know which curses are most heavily punished by Wizarding law?"

Three hands rose in the air: Ron's, Hermione's, and Neville's. While Hermione had been a given, the other two confused me. It wasn't Herbology, and for Ron to raise his hand in any context would be considered ludicrous.

Moody called on Ron and he answered awkwardly, "My dad told me about one… er… the Imperius Curse, or something?"

"Of course," Moody nodded, "Your father  _would_  know about that one. Gave the Ministry a lot of trouble at one time, the Imperius Curse."

I vaguely remembered my mum talking about that, and my dad saying something about having it placed on him by Malfoy. I mentally kicked myself for not remembering it, though how I would know what it did was beyond me.

Moody walked slowly towards his desk and took out a jar from the drawer, in which were three large spiders. I grimaced in irritation, not happy with this reminder of second year. Harry frowned appreciatively at me. Moody reached into the jar, caught a spider, and held it in the palm of his hand so we could all see it. He then pointed his wand at it and muttered, " _Imperio!_ "

The spider suddenly leapt from Moody's hand on a fine thread of silk and began to swing backward and forward, like he was on a string. It stretched its legs out rigidly and breaking the thread, landing gracefully on the desk before beginning to cartwheel in circles. Moody jerked his wand, and the spider rose on two of its hind legs and went into what was unmistakably a tap dance.

I couldn't even control my laughter as everyone in the class chortled at the spider's actions, except for Moody.

"Think it's funny, do you?" he snapped, "You'd like it if I did it to you, then?"

Everyone immediately stopped laughing. Neville looked apprehensive again.

"Total control," Moody continued quietly, "I could make it jump out of the window, drown itself, throw itself, down one of your throats, bite one of you and kill you, follow you around… Years back, there were a lot of wizards and witches being controlled by the Imperius Curse. Some job for the Ministry, trying to sort out who was being forced to act, and who was acting of their own free will. The Imperius Curse can be fought, and I'll be teaching you how, but it takes real strength of character, and not +everyone's got it. Better avoid being hit with it if you can. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" he suddenly roared. Neville's face went completely white and I almost hissed defensively in response.

I was more amazingly pissed at learning my father had had that curse placed on him, and by _Malfoy_. What had Malfoy made him do? How did my dad break out of it? My curiousity was bubbling over and I knew I would have to demand answers, and soon.

Moody put the spider back into the jar and stated, "Anyone else know one? Another forbidden curse?"

Hermione raised her hand eagerly in the air and so did Neville's, once again, though he seemed to be trying to hide his frightened look. I looked over at him inquisitively and he pretended to ignore me.

"Yes Longbottom?" Moody asked, but from his tone it actually sounded like he knew what Neville was about to say.

"Um… The Cruciatus Curse," Neville murmured softly. I continued to look at him in confusion.

Moody nodded, as though his deduction had been indeed confirmed. He then took the next spider and put it on the desk, where it stood almost perfectly still.

"The Cruciatus Curse," Moody continued, "Needs to be a bit bigger for you to get the idea." He then pointed his wand at the spider and cast, " _Engorgio!"_

The spider swelled to be larger than a tarantula. I backed away slightly, scowling at the thing.

Moody raised his wand again and muttered, " _Crucio!_ "

The spider's legs bent inwards to its body; it began to twitch and roll around uncontrollably, as though some invisible force was stabbing it all over with knives. It couldn't make sound but it was almost as though its vibrations were like screams, its torture made all the more gruesome through its silence. The spider began shuddering and jerking violently and I managed to tear my eyes away to see that Neville was clenching the desk so hard his knuckles were white, his eyes were wide and more terrified than I had ever seen him – and I'd seen his expression when we saw it was Sirius Black that had taken us into the Shrieking Shack, or when the basilisk was fighting us in the Chamber, or when we had to face the chess pieces on the third floor. He looked like he was about to vomit and I immediately put my hands on his arm.

"Professor, stop it," I said in a low and almost deadly sounding voice. Even I was shocked by it. Harry looked at me in fear and Hermione's face was a mixture of terror at the curse, disgust with our professor, and apprehension of me. Someone in the back whistled.

Moody's eyes flickered to me but he raised his wand, causing the spider to relax. Neville remained clenched underneath my grip, so I started to gently rub my hands up and down his arm as Moody shrunk the spider back and put it in the jar. Neville had beads of sweat underneath his hairline and he still looked very green in the face. I slipped my hand down into his and gripped his tightly. Neville's eyes flickered to mine and were still filled with fear. I wish I could do more. I didn't know what else to do.

"Pain," Moody continued, and I turned my eyes to his and glared at him slightly, "You don't need thumbscrews or knives to torture someone if you can perform the Cruciatus Curse… That one was a very popular one too. Right…. Anyone know any others?" He seemed eager to leave the curse at that. Neville relaxed a little, his shoulders slumping, but now he simply looked dejected. I was so frustrated I wanted to cry.

Hermione raised her hand a third time, but she looked significantly less eager than usual. Indeed, her eyes flickered to Harry in fear as her hand shook madly. I frowned at her and she shook her head imperceptibly. Harry, however, hadn't noticed this, and his body visibly tensed up.

Moody pointed wordlessly at Hermione.

" _Avada Kedavra_ ," Hermione whispered.

Everyone looked at her in unease. Neville squeezed my hand tightly and I looked up at him to see he was staring nervously at Harry now too. He looked like his stressed had doubled just from having the added worry of one of his best friends. Because of the looks of Hermione and Neville towards Harry – as if he was a dead man – I looked at him nervously too.

Moody smiled in a way that made me sick to my stomach, "Ah… yes, the last and worst.  _Avada Kedavra…_ The killing Curse."

He put his hand in the jar and pulled out the last spider, which he had to trap to keep it from running away. Moody raised his wand and aimed at the scuttling spider, roaring, " _AVADA KEDAVRA!_ '

There was a flash of blinding green light and a rushing sound, as though some strange invisible force was rushing through the air, and immediately the spider rolled over on its back, unmistakably dead, no marks on its body to show evidence of the event. People in the class cried out and I was forced into a flashback, from when I had found out about magic itself.

" _You haven't done anything wrong, Harry. I just know there's… well, we'll get to that," Mum paused._ I remembered being so confused by everything going on that I couldn't quite comprehend it, or process it. I was only eleven, and despite my chaotic childhood, I really hadn't seen anything terrible yet in my life.  _"Anyway, You-Know-Who eventually found your parents, Harry, and killed them- they didn't even have a chance when he got there. But when he got to you, something stopped him. He couldn't kill you, the spell he sent rebounded."_

 _Harry's eyes widened and I felt my own do the same._ I might have understood the words, but it wasn't until now that I understood their full meaning. The impact hit me like a ton of bricks and I actually felt the wind getting knocked out of me.

" _The curse rebounded and hit You-Know-Who himself, making him weak enough to have to flee, go into hiding. Many believe he's dead, but your father and I believe that is ridiculous- he was too powerful to not return from this. But ever since then, our world has been at peace," Mum explained._

I looked at Moody critically. How could anyone perform these curses so… eagerly, as Moody had, even to demonstrate?

_Harry nodded, looking pensive._

" _But the thing is, Harry, no one had ever survived a killing curse before. No one, in all the history of magic. So you… well, you became a legend. Famous, for something that you couldn't even control!" Mum shook her head, "Known as the Boy-Who-Lived to everyone in our world. A hero."_

I looked at Harry again. His eyes were wide. I knew what was really affecting him, more than even the fact that he had survived it. He knew he survived the killing curse. That wasn't a startling revelation.

What he had just seen was his parents' murder weapon.

Of course he was freaking out.  _I was freaking out_. I reached out to hold his hand underneath the table and I was already holding Neville's. I squeezed both as tightly as I could though I still didn't understand why Neville had been so affected. He still looked like he was going to throw up. Harry, on the other hand, had a distant look on his face; like he was so far away he didn't know how to come back down to earth. Hermione's arms were stiff at her sides, as though she was fighting the urge to throw her arms around Harry and never let go.

Moody suddenly started speaking again. "Not nice, not pleasant. And there's no counter-curse. There's not blocking it. Only one known person has ever survived it, and he's sitting right in front of me."

Harry looked like he wanted to melt into the floor. I squeezed his hand harder.

" _Avada Kedavra_ 's a curse that needs a powerful bit of magic behind it," Moody continued as though nothing odd or special had occurred at all, "You could all get your wands out now and point them at me and say the words, and I doubt I'd get so much as a nosebleed. But that doesn't matter. I'm not here to teach you how to do it. Now, if there's no counter-curse, why am I showing you? BECAUSE YOU'VE GOT TO KNOW. You've got to appreciate what the worst is. You don't want to find yourself in a situation where you're facing it. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" he roared, and Neville whimpered slightly next to me.

"Now… those three curses –  _Avada Kedavra_ ,  _Imperius_ , and  _Cruciatus_  – are known as the Unforgivable Curses. The use of any one of them on a fellow human being is enough to earn a life sentence in Azkaban. That's what you're up against. That's what I've got to teach you to fight. You need preparing. You need arming. But most of all, you need to practice  _constant, never-ceasing vigilance_. Get out your quills… copy this down…" Moody finished.

We spent the rest of the lesson copying down notes on each of the curses. I was impatient and wrote so quickly it was almost illegible. I wanted to be out of that room, and I wanted Neville and Harry to be out of there too. Hermione seemed to have the same sentiment. Harry was doodling, not really paying attention to the notes, and Neville wasn't writing anything, just staring at his parchment. There wasn't a sound in the classroom until the bell rang, when everyone began chattering eagerly about the lesson, a flurry of "Did you see it twitch?" "Or when it bounced back and forth on the string?" "Man when it rolled around and…" "And when he killed it – just like that!"

It was like it was some sort of show. I wanted to rip out all their vocal chords. We hurriedly exited the room and Neville paused on the stairs, looking at the window like he was going to throw up.

"C'mon Neville," I murmured softly. I was dying with curiosity as to how he knew that particular curse and was so affected by it, but I didn't pry. He looked like he was going to keel over, "C'mon. Let's go to the Common Room."

"Yeah Neville, sit down, get some rest," Harry agreed, walking over to us and looking almost as struck as Neville did.

"Nev, please, you need to lie down," Hermione whispered. Neville nodded at us all and we continued walking down the steps. I was a little irritated that she called him a pet name. I was just bristling with anxiety.

"Longbottom! Potter!" We all turned around on the steps to see Moody approaching us.

"Yes, sir?" Harry managed to state, but his voice was dull and quiet.

"May I have a word with the two of yeh? Especially you, Longbottom," Moody continued.

"I think Neville needs to come to the Common Room and lie down," I responded coolly. Both of Moody's eyes examined me critically.

"You've got to know. It seems harsh, maybe,  _but you've got to know_. No point pretending," Moody responded with equal hostility.

"Well now the damage should be dealt with," I hissed, "C'mon Neville." I grabbed Neville's arm and dragged him down the steps. I didn't remember being this antagonistic with Moody three years ago.

 _A lot changes in three years_ , I thought pensively, frowning at the corridor as though perhaps it would hold the answer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short one, sadly. These past two chapters have covered such short periods of time that I really don't know what I would add in. Still, important character development! Hope you guys enjoyed!


	31. Chapter Thirty: September 6 - October 30, 1994, Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Don't you remember when you were young 
> 
> And you wanted to set the world on fire? 
> 
> Somewhere deep down 
> 
> I know you do 
> 
> And don't you remember when we were young 
> 
> And we wanted to set the world on fire? 
> 
> Cause I still am 
> 
> And I still do 
> 
> Make no mistake 
> 
> We are not afraid 
> 
> To bear the burden of repeating 
> 
> What they're thinking anyway 
> 
> Let's raise the stakes 
> 
> On the best we made 
> 
> Let's decide to be the architects 
> 
> The masters of our fate." 
> 
> ~ Rise Against, "Architects"

Chapter 30: September 6th – October 30th, 1994, Hogwarts

The next evening I ran from my final class to the library, having been told to do so by Hermione earlier in the day. I reached her at one of the tables, setting down my bag in a rush and looking at her questioningly. I was in a rush because of my Animagus lessons. I was constantly in them with McGonagall now, repeating the incantations and repeating the wand-work, trying to get myself to transform into an animal. I hadn't yet. Furthermore, I had to practice the wand movements in private even when I wasn't in the lesson. McGonagall wanted me to really memorize the movement so I wouldn't screw up and get permanently transfigured into a bird or something. I would just sit at a table and practice the movement underneath it with my wand so no one could see, turning it into muscle memory. Sideways eight, signs of the zodiac, sideways eight, signs of the zodiac, repeat, repeat, repeat.

"Did you read the book I asked you to read?" she hissed softly as I sat down.

"Yes," I responded as quietly as I could, "It's insane."

"Good," Hermione pulled out a box and inside were a million badges, "Then you'll help me with this?"

"'Course, but I have to be honest Hermione," I paused, "I don't know how much we can actually  _do_. These laws are older than Hogwarts."

"I know," Hermione sighed, "But we have to try."

I looked at her for a moment before saying, "Alright. But we have to have an agreement here."

"Oh?" Hermione went back to fiddling with the badges, clearly more preoccupied by such matters.

"If there's a more pressing issue, that always has to take preference. Like if…  _You-know-who_  comes back," I hissed. I knew saying Voldemort would just make her freak out.

Hermione looked at me for a long moment, "You're really worried aren't you."

"Absolutely, completely terrified," I responded lightly, pulling a badge out of the box. It said  _SPEW_  on it.

"SPEW?" I asked curiously.

"Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare," Hermione answered brightly, "I figured we could wear these and get the boys to wear them too."

"And by boys you mean…"

"Neville and Harry," Hermione clarified.

"Good, because there's no chance of George wearing this," I shook my head sadly, "I mean come on, Hermione.  _Spew_? You couldn't have come up with a better name?"

"Like what?" Hermione snapped in response, folding her arms over her chest defensively.

"I don't know! Just something that doesn't conjure up the image of someone violently returning their dinner to the world," I rolled my eyes.

Hermione opened her mouth to retort in anger when a large clatter of books filled our ears. I stood up rapidly and she followed me as I ran to the source of the noise.

Covered in a pile of fallen books was my little sister. She was groaning slightly underneath all the books. Two Slytherins in the year below me, whose names I just couldn't place, were standing over her and laughing quite cruelly.

"Hey!" I shouted, running over to Elena and pulling books off of her, "Leave her alone!'

"You can't protect her Johnson," the girl Slytherin snorted, "She's pretending to be one of us now."

"She  _is_  a Slytherin," I snapped in irritation, "She holds the same values that you do."

"Whatever," the boy Slytherin rolled his eyes, "She can't  _really_  belong. Not with  _you_  and  _Potter_  in her family."

I hissed at them and they cackled, walking away. Hermione and I had finally finished picking up all the books off of Elena. She was covered in bruises and cuts from where the books had hit her, but there were also scars and faded, discolored bruises- ones that had been around a while already. She hadn't had any such marks when we left for school.

"Elena…" I sighed in amazement. She stumbled to her feet angrily and grabbed her bag from the ground.

"I don't need your help," she muttered, turning and walking in the opposite direction of the two Slytherins. I watched her go in bemusement, turning back to Hermione with sadness.

"I don't know what to say," she lamented.

"That's a first," I muttered irritably, grabbing my own bag from the table and the box of badges from the table.

Hermione looked at me in almost patronizing concern as I stomped out of the library, heading towards the Common Room. Inside, Neville and Harry were both trying to understand the Transfiguration homework from that day. Hermione and I had each completed it in only ten minutes and yet these two dunderheads were still working on it. I smashed the box onto the table and Hermione rushed forward, grimacing at my irritation as I sat in a chair in a huff.

"What's wrong with Maggie?" Neville asked, rolling up some parchment into a ball and chucking it angrily into the fire. Harry grimaced and muttered, "Neville those were our figures for the past hour."

"They're here now, they can help!" Neville responded brightly, "That is… er… if they want to."

"You should do your own homework," Hermione scolded slightly.

"But ' _Mione_ ," Harry groaned. I rolled my eyes and snatched his parchment from him.

"You forgot the second animal bone transformation, it makes the rest of the spell actually, you know, work," I snapped, handing back the parchment. Harry looked at me, moderately hurt.

"Sorry," I sighed, "But have you seen Elena lately?"

"No," Harry paused, "That's really weird, now that you point it out."

"Well I saw her today. Some Slytherins in third year shoved books on top of her and she almost got crushed to death," I glowered.

" _What?!_ " Neville and Harry gasped in unison.

"It's true," Hermione sighed.

"I wish I could ask why, but we all know why," Harry muttered in anger.

"I want to bash their heads in, all of them," I roared. People throughout the common room stared at me, mouths agape, especially the first years who weren't used to me yet.

"Maggie calm down," Hermione urged, "Yelling isn't going to solve anything."

"Ha!" I barked, "Like that's ever worked on me."

"Worth a shot," Neville shrugged.

"Look, she clearly didn't want your help," Hermione paused, "It might be better for her in the long run if she distances herself from you as much as possible."

"Separate her from you in their minds so eventually she'll just be the quiet bookish girl she always wants to be," Neville agreed. I looked at him and reflected in his eyes I saw the terrified first year who didn't know how else to save himself from bullying except to leave me behind. He reached over and held my hand tightly in his, "It doesn't mean she doesn't love you."

I swallowed heavily and pulled back, suddenly feeling my hands get clammy. I looked away and at Harry.

"What do you think?" I sighed softly. Harry frowned in annoyance, clearly feeling as helpless as I did.

"I think we should give her space. She's in Slytherin, so approaching her is hard enough as it is. If she's being bullied because they think she doesn't belong, then emphasizing the reason they think so, isn't a good idea," Harry lamented. He looked at my dejected facial expression and added, "I don't like it any more than you do, but we should give it some time at least. It's still the first week of term."

I nodded and pulled Neville's transfiguration homework from him. It was so wrong I cringed. Neville groaned.

"Go back to the book and actually read about muscle structure," I rolled my eyes in spite of myself, "Then talk to me again."

Neville blanched and looked at Hermione's box, "What's that there, 'Mione?"

"I'm glad you asked, Neville!" Hermione responded, brightening up dramatically. I groaned a little underneath my breath.

"Spew?" Harry asked, picking up a button, "What's this then?"

"It's not  _Spew_ ," Hermione snapped, "It's…"

"The  _Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare_ ," I finished dully. Hermione glared at me slightly.

"Did you make this up?" Neville frowned in confusion.

"Yes, we've only just started it," Hermione pointed to me and I smiled thinly.

"And I'm assuming for now it's just us?" Harry asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Well, yes," Hermione sighed.

"Hermione, I'm not going to walk around wearing a badge that says spew," Harry shook his head sadly.

"S-P-E-W!" Hermione responded defensively.

"Told you it was a bad name," I rolled my eyes.

"You should have come to the library when I asked you to, more!" Hermione snapped.

I frowned. How was I supposed to tell her that I was in McGonagall's office working on Animagus spells whenever I had a free minute?

"At any rate, I was going to put  _Stop the Outrageous Abuse of Our Fellow Magical Creatures and Campaign for a Change in Their Legal Status_ … but it wouldn't fit. So that's the heading of our manifesto," Hermione continued.

"Hermione…" Neville groaned.

"Look Hermione, I agree they have a horrible place in society," Harry paused, "Seriously, it's obscene. But I just don't think we can really do much."

"I mean I agree, Hermione," I nodded, "But from what I've heard from George…"

"Oh?" Hermione snapped, "What has George said, then?"

I flushed in irritation, "Just that they like to be enslaved. I agree that doesn't make it right, but at the same time, if all wizards and witches hold this view…"

"For the most part, they do," Neville sighed.

"That's just despicable! Does anyone even  _question_  whether or not…" Hermione cried.

"I'm sure they do, 'Mione," Harry responded calmly.

"I don't think so," Neville frowned, "I agree with you Hermione that they should, but you overestimate the goodness of the Wizarding community."

Everyone fell silent. I thought of the Ministry of Magic, how long it took for my mum to get promoted. I thought of the Malfoys, the Chamber of Secrets, and the persecution of Muggleborns. I thought of Lupin and how few rights he had as a werewolf. I thought of Voldemort, and how our society had allowed him to rise to prominence, with a large following.

Hermione slammed her fist down on the table in irritation, "Well then we should be working to fix it!"

"I think it's a general problem of ideology," Neville frowned, "There are so many things stemming from one root problem. To tackle one of the branches will help that branch, but it won't cure the problem. And, knowing the nature of this particular plant, when we leave the branch alone it'll probably just grow right back again."

Harry reached out to Hermione and held her hand lightly. I hid my smirk by looking up at the ceiling in fascination.

"Hermione, I agree that this is bad, and we should be doing something to stop it. I just think you're… too optimistic."

Hermione looked really upset, tears coming to her eyes, "But we have to do  _something_  Harry!"

Neville and I looked at each other. What  _could_  we do?

"Leaflets and badges aren't going to change the minds of enough people," I sighed, "Hermione, to fix this we have to start a revolution."

"I'm all for that," Harry chuckled. I rolled my eyes.

Hermione crossed her arms in front of her chest and sat down in a huff. I patted her arm in consolation.

"Then let's start a revolution," she muttered. Neville, Harry and my mouths all dropped open in unison.

"Revolution?" Neville gasped.

"Of the whole Wizarding World?" Harry furthered.

" _You_?" I finished, my eyebrows flying into my hairline.

"I'm not saying right away, not right now. We're still in school," Hermione paused, "But when we leave school. What else are we going to do? I mean we'll all have jobs and things. But just think. Maybe we can stop… You-Know-Who… from rising to power again, just by combating the public's thinking. We can really spread the word, write books and papers and things and spread them around. We can give speeches, we can gather followers, get people to see that all of this is fundamentally _wrong_. Get the word out through smaller newspaper, letter correspondence to people we know would be sympathetic. We can start thinking of what we'll say, now," she started getting really excited, bouncing a little in her chair, "Start formulating our thoughts now, gathering data about prejudice wherever we see it. We have four years here in which to just compile everything we see wrong with the Wizarding World. By the time we leave, we'll have enough to change the minds of everyone but the most adamant in their prejudices."

"You know, Hermione, that's not a bad idea," Harry frowned in amazement.

"I think we can do that," I beamed, happy to hear something a little more reasonable.

"Definitely sounds like a better plan," Neville nodded.

"Then it's settled," Hermione packed up the box of badges in her bag, "Starting now, we gather information. Just like when we worked on Buckbeak’s case. We are on the lookout. Wherever we see prejudice of any kind, we take a note of it. Constant vigilance," she joked. Neville and Harry's faces fell.

"Too soon?" I chuckled. Hermione rolled her eyes to me and we all went back to our homework.

The next few weeks passed without further incident. I spent my time in classes, with McGonagall doing Animagus lessons, and with George or with my other friends. Everything, really, seemed to be going well, for once, though timing my Animagus lessons were hard. I didn't want anyone noticing my disappearing for multiple hours of the day without explanation, and as our workload increased dramatically as the term went on, it became harder to explain where I'd been, if my homework was still the same amount as it had been when I left.

A few weeks into term, Moody surprised us all once again by announcing that he would be putting the Imperius Curse on each of us to demonstrate its power and to see whether we could resist it. Hermione, needless to say, was appalled.

"But… but you said it's illegal, Professor," Hermione frowned as Moody cleared a large space in the center of the room, "You said… to use it against another human was…"

"Dumbledore wants you taught what it feels like," Moody's magical eye swiveled onto Hermione and stared, giving me the shivers, "If you'd rather learn the hard way – when someone's putting it on you so they can control you completely – fine by me. You're excused. Off you go." He pointed to the door and Hermione went red, hiding behind Harry and muttering about how she didn't want to leave.

Moody then began calling students forward. No one seemed to be able to shake off the curse, and they all only recovered when Moody had removed it. Hermione sang a song at the top of her lungs… she did not have a nice voice. Ron recited a list of all the London Underground stops, which he couldn't have possibly known, being not from London and being a wizard. Neville performed a series of amazing gymnastics I  _knew_  he couldn't do normally. Dean Thomas hopped three times around the room, singing the national anthem.

I was called forward and I cringed in preparation as Moody said, " _Imperio!_ "

I suddenly felt like I was floating upwards, every thought and worry in my head being wiped away as I felt rather empty and strangely happy. I wasn't really aware of everyone watching me, or really where I even was.

In the back of my brain I heard Mad-Eye order  _Run around the room, run around the room_. I happily did so, sprinting in circles around my classmates without a second thought. I didn't even notice myself getting out of breath as I did so.

_Wave your wand around aimlessly_

I did so, waving in a methodical pattern. Since I couldn't understand what I was doing, I just did muscle memory. Sideways eight, zodiac signs, sideways eight, zodiac signs.

 _Cast a spell, any non-harmful spell will do_.

Well, in my mind-washed state, I decided to mutter under my breath the series of incantations for my Animagus lessons, since they had been all I was thinking about for the past month. I suppose in retrospect I shouldn't have been worried; it had never worked before.

But suddenly I was a Bengal Tiger.

The Imperius curse lifted and I was aware of my surroundings again and I  _panicked_. I quickly transformed back into a human, feeling like I was going to throw up. My insides were like jelly, churning around inside of me madly. I could barely feel my feet and I could feel myself fainting, falling towards the floor, but my vision was blurry because my eyes had just rapidly changed. Before I hit the floor I felt someone catch me, hoisting me up back onto my feet as my vision returned to me. I could see everyone gaping at me throughout the room. The Ravenclaws – Terry, Mandy, Michael, Renee, Mia, Anthony, Frank, Padma and Lisa – had their mouths open in shock. There was no way they didn't know what just happened. Sam, however, was frowning, his arms crossed over his chest as he seemed to  _study_  me. The Gryffindors – Ron, Lavender, Parvati, Seamus, Dean, Siobhan – just looked confused, amazed that I could do that when under the curse. Harry looked confused and concerned, reaching out for me with his left hand, his right pointing his wand at Moody. Hermione had her eyes wide, but her mouth was pressed into a thin line. I knew she knew. Moody looked completely shocked, his wand slack in his hand. And, as I looked up, I could see that it had been Neville who caught me, looking at me with a look of completely tender concern.

I managed to break way and dust myself off, trying my hardest to not vomit on the floor as I pocketed my wand and wiped the sweat from my brow.

"Erm… er… sorry about… that," I managed to gasp out, "Uh, someone else should go, yeah?"

No one stopped staring at me and I felt like I wanted to sink into the floor. This was the exact opposite of what I was supposed to do.

"Right…" Moody frowned, "Potter… you next."

I went and sat down at the edge of the room, and Neville came to sit down with me. I didn't look at him, but just stared at my feet, frowning at them as I tried to think of a way out of this situation as Moody cast Imperio on Harry.

Almost immediately Harry's knees bent, as though he were about to spring. I didn't like seeing all my friends and classmates get forced to do all sorts of crazy acrobatics and I averted my eyes again. But a long pause occurred in which Harry didn't jump, and then a large clatter occurred where Harry somehow jumped and didn't jump, fighting with himself as he smashed headlong into a desk and knocking it over.

"Now,  _that's_  more like it!" Moody growled, seemingly invigorated by this event, "Look at that, you lot… Potter fought! He fought it, and he damn near beat it! We'll try that again, Potter, and the rest of you, pay attention – watch his eyes, that's where you see it – very good, Potter, very good indeed! They'll have trouble controlling  _you!_ "

The moment the lesson ended I sprinted out of the room through the corridors to McGonagall's office, praying she didn't have a lesson in this hour. I slammed the door behind me and, in my Moody-heightened paranoia, locked the door behind me.

"Johnson, what is the meaning-" I heard McGonagall shout behind me. Luckily, we were alone.

"Something horrible just happened, and I mean worst case scenario horrible," I gasped.

McGonagall instantly frowned, "What  _now_ , Miss Johnson?"

"So we were practicing the Imperius curse in Moody's class," and I went on to describe all the events that had occurred. McGonagall frowned angrily.

"I'll be having a talk with Moody. I don't think you have to worry too much about the damage, though. I'll feed Moody a story about a new experimental transfiguration spell that you were reading up on. Your fellow students shouldn't know what was really going on, no Johnson, not even the Ravenclaws," McGonagall reassured.

I could definitely tell that Hermione knew, though.

"So it was a tiger, then," McGonagall continued. I was shocked by her cavalier nature.

"Look Johnson, there was minimal adult presence and honestly, you were in a room filled with fourth year Gryffindors and Ravenclaws. We were going to have a slip up, it's impossible to keep this completely concealed, and it could have been a  _lot_ worse," McGonagall sighed. I nodded weakly.

"Well then you probably aren't going to be any sort of big cat. That's a shame, I have a fondness for felines… Not to mention that cuts out an aggressive animal group, which as we both know, is what you ideally want to be," McGonagall finished. I nodded in understanding, having thought of that myself.

"Well since you're here and don't have another lesson to go to, let's keep practicing," McGonagall ordered. I groaned automatically but fell into the wand work and incantations, nervous to turn into an animal and feel sick again. It didn't happen right away – I was disappointed – but by the end of the hour I had managed to turn into a tiger again, just a different kind, and then a lion, before she was satisfied and turned me away.

When I got back to the Common Room, I ran into Neville, who seemed to be waiting for me with a concerned look on his face.

“What was that about? Are you alright? You looked positively ill after you – turned into a tiger – are you okay?” Neville asked hurriedly, running forward to me and holding my arms. I was startled by the level of concern he was showing.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I just… I’ve been doing personal studies with McGonagall in transfiguration,” I half-lied, “I really am starting to think I want to go into research and such, so I was talking to her about it and we’ve been practicing things.”

“Oh?” Neville asked.

“Yeah. So that’s just an experimental transfiguration I’ve been working on – and I’ve been refining it so much that when Moody told me to just do some random spell it was the first thing that came to mind. It just hasn’t ever worked before, so I felt really ill after doing it,” I explained.

“I gotcha,” Neville nodded, releasing my arms, “You just – it was so startling – you turned into a tiger! Who could have expected that?”

“Absolutely no one,” I agreed wholeheartedly.

“And then you practically fainted, and I was worried you had really hurt yourself or something,” Neville finished.

“Well I’m fine. I just went to talk to McGonagall and she reassured me of that. And then she insisted we do some extra work since I was in her office anyway,” I rolled my eyes.

“Just don’t hurt yourself or anything,” Neville begged.

“I promise,” I smiled reassuredly, “Did you tell anyone about this?”

“I think Harry might have told George, but _I_ didn’t, no,” Neville explained.

 _Great. Now I have to lie to everyone_! I thought in annoyance.

“I better go let them know I’m okay,” I explained.

“Last I heard they were all on the grounds getting in some flying practice. In the absence of Quidditch, they don’t want to lose their skills or anything,” Neville offered.

“Thanks!” I waved and ran off to the grounds. Harry, Fred and George all accepted my story readily, which was a huge relief.

Now I had to deal with the damage with Hermione. However, she didn't say anything for a while, not until we received word that the delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang would arrive at 6 o'clock on the 30th of October, a Friday. As everyone milled about and got excited about the upcoming event, Hermione pulled me into a corner.

"Do you want to talk to me about something?" she asked quietly, taking advantage of everyone's distraction. I knew she had been waiting for the right moment, now.

I frowned, looking around, "Okay, you know and I know you know and you know I know you know."

"You have to say it," Hermione hissed.

I sighed heavily, "I'm training to become an Animagus with Professor McGonagall."

Her eyebrows flew up into her hairline, "You're training with  _McGonagall_?"

"Yeah," I frowned.

"I thought you were doing this on your  _own_ , like… Padfoot and Prongs and Wormtail," she hissed very quietly.

"No, McGonagall insisted she help me," I explained, "She found the potion in Myrtle's bathroom."

"Of course you started it there," Hermione rolled her eyes, "When did you start?"

"This time last year, I suspect," I shrugged, "She made me read a lot of books."

"I'm sure. I've read them all too, that's how I was the only person in the room to recognize what was actually going on," Hermione frowned, "And it's all going okay?"

"Yup," I responded cheerfully, "Bit painful and gross, though."

"I'm sure," Hermione looked thoughtful and let me go, seemingly satisfied that I had proper adult supervision.

And so over the next few weeks all anyone ever talked about was the Triwizard tournament and the upcoming arrival of our visitors. It was, legitimately, all George could even talk about to me; and I admit I was getting rather bored.

"Durmstrang, they'll be tough," George rambled to me one afternoon as we walked together through the grounds, "They live in really horrible conditions. Snow and ice and mountains and everything. They'll probably be big and brutish and hardy and will withstand more than us, by far."

"Mhm," I acknowledged, sitting underneath my favorite tree, near the Lake.

"Beauxbatons though, I dunno. I mean the French are always a joke but they have the Spanish and the Italians too, don't they? They are amazing at Quidditch, so they'll probably be good at other sporting events too. And I guess really stereotypes don't mean much anyway, the schools can only bring a certain number of candidates so they'll only bring the best. I hope we have a good person, not that Cedric Diggory fellow."

I snorted, remembering how much George hated him last year.

"You laugh but I was really jealous of the bloke for a moment there," George rolled his eyes. I smiled, happy that he seemed to be coming off of Triwizard conversation. It wasn't that I wasn't excited – I was plenty excited. I just didn't see the point of talking about it constantly.

"Please, me and Diggory. What a laugh," I smirked. George chuckled in response.

"Oh I know. I was being irrational. Plus with Fred blocking me at every turn…." He rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"Oh it's okay, he had a real legitimate reason to not be okay with the idea," I soothed. George sighed.

"I  _know_ , but it still ultimately wasn't his decision, and he tried to make it be his…" George suddenly curled up next to me, resting his head in my lap underneath the tree. I froze for a moment but then forced myself to relax, stroking his hair softly. I enjoyed playing with the little strands everywhere, so much different than my hair.

"Fred and I still can't figure out how to enter the Tournament," George sighed, "I asked McGonagall how the champions are chosen but she wasn't having it. She just told me to shut up and get on with transfiguring my raccoon."

"I'm sorry," I sighed, cursing in my head that the conversation had returned to this topic.

"We'll figure it out when it's time," George paused, "We have some preliminary ideas figured out. Do you want in?"

I laughed, "Course I do, but I want to see you two do it and make sure it actually works out and doesn't ruin your hair or brand you with some embarrassing message on your forehead or something, first."

"Fair enough. I'll talk the fall for you like a true knight in shining armor," George shot his arm in the air triumphantly. I giggled despite myself, saying "My hero."

"Oh of course," George beamed at me, sitting up and putting his face close to mine, "I mean who else would be?"

"I'm my own hero," I responded cheekily.

"That you are," he chuckled, leaning in to kiss me. I kissed him back softly, hesitantly placing my hand on his cheek. I was still so new at this and everything made my heart pound out of my chest. But I tried to force myself to be confident, knowing that I was going obscenely slow with him. I ran my fingers through George's hair and he made a small sound on my lips, causing my heart rate to speed up even more. I finally broke away, my quota having been met for the evening, and George smiled at me.

"I keep forgetting you're only fifteen," he murmured the words we both knew he had been thinking since my birthday. I swallowed slightly.

"Sorry," I apologized quietly.

"Don't be sorry!" George insisted, looking shocked, "We go at your pace, no question, no apologies necessary."

I nodded; still feeling flushed around my ears, and pulled him in for another kiss despite myself.

And then, finally, Friday the 30th rolled around. All of us were in the entrance hall, our books deposited in our Common Rooms as we waited for our Heads-of-House to usher us outside in lines. George and the other sixth years were far back behind us fourth years, so even though I strangely wanted to go and just find someplace to sit down and kiss George for hours and hours, I was stuck with my friends. And then I felt guilt for wanting to be with George more than my mates.

“So I’ve been working on a new selective breeding project,” Neville said behind me. I turned around and grinned at him happily.

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” Neville beamed, “I’ve been selecting for certain properties – Sprout’s been helping me of course – and this plant I’ve bred, when you eat it, it deflects very minor curses – as in, Professor Sprout ate it and then when I tried to disarm her, it didn’t work.”

“Neville that’s brilliant!” I grinned.

“Isn’t it?” Neville laughed, “I’ve been crossbreeding them and the newest generation has slightly stronger protective properties. I couldn’t get stunned. So I’m going to keep that up, testing each generation, and hopefully I’ll be able to get it to a point where it’s plenty strong.”

“Oh that would be so useful, Nev,” I praised happily.

“I don’t know what compound is causing the protective properties, though,” Neville continued, flushing slightly, “I need to isolate it somehow.”

“You need to study some muggle sciences,” I offered calmly.

“Oh lord, I wouldn’t even know where to begin,” Neville groaned.

“It’s really not that complicated,” I reassured, “You’re going to need to do some extractions and such. I’m sure there are magical ways of doing it, too.”

“Professor Sprout has some ideas,” Neville admitted, “I just want to try and get the plant to be as defensive as possible first. In theory, it should have the most of whatever the compound is, right?”

“That makes sense,” I nodded, “If that’s how the compound works, which it should be, if breeding two plants with it produced an extra-defensive plant.”

“And the next plant in the generation – I only bred the plants that were especially good at it. As in, they could all block stunners, but the ones that completely blocked it I bred, while the ones that still allowed a tingling sensation I left,” Neville explained, “Like you told me to.”

“Great!” I grinned, “Then in theory you should get higher concentrations of the mystery compound.”

“All thanks to you, Mags,” Neville smiled happily at me. I flushed again in embarrassment.

“Oh come on. Anyone could have told you that,” I dismissed. Neville shook his head in bemusement.

Meanwhile, Hermione and Harry were chatting up a storm as well.

“So I found a statute in one of the law books – it’s absolutely mental,” Harry said.

“Oh, what on?” Hermione asked eagerly.

“Basically all these laws – stemming from the Middle Ages. Apparently a lot of witches and wizards held great estates, they were feudal lords and things,” Harry explained.

“Oh!” Hermione gasped.

“Yeah, so there are a lot of stipulations – if you have been a member of this one ancient wizarding society from the medieval ages, you get all these perks in the wizarding government – it’s sort of like the muggle parliament, then? Like the Wizengamot is almost half based on who your family is,” Harry explained.

“Merlin, that’s horrible,” Hermione shook her head.

“And you can’t just become one, either. Like I think the muggle parliament has stipulations for becoming a member of the House of Lords, right?”

“Yeah,” Hermione agreed, “And they have very little political power anymore. It’s all about the House of Commons.”

“Yeah, well these families are very old wizarding families, that have been rich and around since those times, and they have the _same power_ as the elected members of the Wizengamot, and are _equal in number_. It’s mental!” Harry groaned.

“That’s horrible. No wonder nothing changes,” Hermione shook her head sadly.

“So the statute I found – basically there are committees, that they have. The Wizengamot serves both as a sort of high court and a legislative body – which is confusing, because those powers should probably be separate, yeah? I don’t remember much from when Aunt Melinda taught me civics but I remember _that_.”

“Of course they should be,” Hermione nodded eagerly.

“Well this statute says that these committees – they have to have half familial members and half elected members. And these committees put forth all major laws in the Wizarding World. I mean most laws are still made by the Ministry, but the big picture laws – they’re always decided at least in part by some pure blood, old fogey!” Harry shook his head in disgust.

“So… we either have to change the minds of entrenched power…” Hermione gasped.

“Or we have to change the entire wizarding government,” Harry finished.

“Viva la revolution,” I interjected, having finished my conversation with Neville in that moment.

“I guess that’s the way it has to go,” Hermione agreed sadly.

Snape suddenly passed my vision and behind him was his train of Slytherins. They came to stop right in front of us. Elena was at the front of their line, almost cowering in Snape's cloak, and I wanted to throw up when I saw her. She had bruises all over her face and cuts everywhere too, a fat lip and two black eyes. Her glasses were breaking at the bridge and Snape turned around and muttered  _Reparo_  so softly that only Elena and I must have heard, and her glasses were repaired. Furthermore, Snape patted Elena almost imperceptibly on the shoulder before turning to face the doors to the castle again. I took comfort that he was looking out for her. As we all started walking through the castle, though, I noticed she was walking with a noticeable limp. I wanted to start crying and I could feel Harry grip my shoulder tightly. I turned and saw that he could clearly see what I saw, and looked at me with the most pained nightmare face I had ever seen him wear.

As the Slytherins passed, the third years that had been Elena's main tormenters all laughed when they saw our faces, and one of them pointed at Elena and made a sword-slicing motion across his throat. I was so angry, so terrified for my sister, so upset that Harry, Neville and Hermione immediately reached to stop me from lunging as the Slytherins passed.

"Johnson,  _control_  yourself," McGonagall ordered, but didn't say anything more when she saw the look on my face, "Weasley, straighten your hat. Follow me, please."

"It'll be okay," Harry whispered as we walked towards the front. I looked at him in disbelief and he amended, "It just has to be."

We stood out in the front of the doors, the cold wind nipping at our cheeks and blowing our cloaks out behind us. The moon rose clear overhead and I could see many of the students around me shivering madly with cold, Hermione included. It made me smile inside despite of myself, however, when Harry wrapped an arm around Hermione's shoulder to keep her warm. The look on Hermione's face was absolutely priceless.

"Almost six," Neville remarked, looking at his watch, "Wonder how they're coming…"

"By train?" I suggested, my teeth chattering.

"I doubt it," Hermione frowned, still flushed in her cheeks as Harry's arm was still around her.

"How then? Broomsticks?" Harry asked, his gaze turning upward to the night sky.

"Not from that far away…" Neville refuted.

"A Portkey?" I asked, "Or they could Apparate – maybe you're allowed to do it under seventeen wherever they come from?"

"You can't Apparate inside the Hogwarts grounds though," Hermione muttered.

Everything around us was still, silent and dark, and I was getting extremely cold now. Neville wrapped an arm around me and I felt my heart quicken in rate as if George was kissing me, leaving me extremely confused. He then huddled me towards Harry and Hermione and we all wrapped our arms around each other to keep warm.

Suddenly, Dumbledore's voice rang out from the back where he stood with the other professors, "Aha! Unless I am very much mistake, the delegation from Beauxbatons approaches!"

A chorus of where's erupted from the students, everyone looking about chaotically. A sixth year yelled, "There!" pointing over the forest as a very large something hurdled through the sky towards us.

"It's a dragon!" a first year in Gryffindor shrieked.

"Don't be stupid… it's a flying house!" said a small boy, if I remembered correctly, Dennis Creevey.

The thing kept getting closer and closer to us all, and as it pulled up it came into view as a huge, light blue horse-drawn carriage, the size of a large house and pulled by a dozen elephant-sized winged horses.

Students jumped backwards as the carriage came to an abrupt landing, crashing loudly and making us all stumble even more backwards. The door to the carriage opened and a boy in pale blue robes jumped down, fumbling to open a set of golden steps before stepping back respectfully. Suddenly, a giant woman appeared from the carriage, the size of Hagrid but still somehow abnormally big, perhaps because we were all used to Hagrid now. She looked around over the crowd with a handsome, olive-skinned face; large, black, watery eyes, and a beaky nose. Her hair was drawn back into a bun at the base of her neck, and she was dressed from head to foot in black satin.

Dumbledore began to clap, the students breaking into applause in response. The women burst into a smile and walked forward to Dumbledore, extending a hand for Dumbledore to barely manage to kiss.

"My dear Madame Maxime," Dumbledore greeted, "Welcome to Hogwarts."

"Dumbly-dorr," Madame Maxime rumbled in a deep, French voice, "I 'ope I find you well?"

"In excellent form, I thank you," Dumbledore responded.

"My pupils," Madame Maxime continued, waving one of her enormous hands carelessly behind her.

Suddenly I was forced to notice a group of a dozen boys and girls in their late teens emerging from the carriage and standing behind Madame Maxime. They were all shivering even more than we were, and they were supremely unprepared, given that their robes were made of fine silk and none of them had cloaks. All of them were looking at Hogwarts apprehensively, some even with scarves and shawls around their heads. One of the students, a very tanned looking boy, was actually standing without his robes fully wrapped around him, like he was strangely immune to the cold. He had large, rippling muscles and long black hair. I could hear some of the girls around me murmuring in appreciativeness of this boy. Siobhan, Parvati and Lavender were giggling loudly and oohing at him like a piece of meat.

"'As Karkaroff arrived yet?" Madame Maxime asked.

"He should be here any moment," Dumbledore responded, "Would you like to wait here and greet him or would you prefer to step inside and warm up a trifle?"

"Warm up, I think," Madame Maxime decided, "But ze 'orses-"

"Our Care of Magical Creatures teacher will be delighted to take care of them," Dumbledore reassured, "The moment he has returned from dealing with a slight situation."

We had been caring for these beastly concoctions of his, called Blast-Ended Skrewts, which I just preferred to not think about as much as possible.

"My steeds require – er – forceful 'andling," Madame Maxime said doubtfully, "Zey are very strong…"

"I assure you that Hagrid will be well up to the job," Dumbledore smiled.

"Very well," Madame Maxime bowed, "Will you please inform zis 'Agrid zat ze 'orses drink only single-malt whiskey?"

"It will be attended to," Dumbledore bowed in response.

"Come," Madame Maxime ordered her students, and they passed into the castle. We all turned, waiting anxiously for Durmstrang now. Everything was silent as well all huddled eagerly to keep warm, the cold truly nipping at us now. I was anxious to go inside and eat something, my stomach growling slightly. But suddenly a loud, oddly eerie noise drifted towards us through the darkness. It was a muffled rumbling and sucking sound, as though an immense vacuum cleaner were moving along a riverbed.

"The lake!" Lee Jordan shouted from behind us, "look at the lake!"

We all had a clear view of the lake, but the surface appeared to be bubbling oddly, and suddenly whirling around into a giant spinning whirlpool. Slowly, from the heart of the whirlpool a long, black pole began to rise up slowly, along with rigging. It was the mast to a ship. The ship rose out of the water slowly and magnificently, gleaming in the moonlight. It looked almost like a resurrected wreck, ghostly and skeletal, the moonlight heightening its appearance. The ship emerged entirely and bobbed on the water, anchoring near the bank as people left the shift and walked towards the castle, all huge and bulky as George had predicted, but that was more seemingly because they had on huge cloaks of matted fur. The man leading them was sleek silvery furs, which matched his hair.

"Dumbledore!" he called, "How are you, my dear fellow, how are you?"

"Blooming, thank you, Professor Karkaroff," Dumbledore replied. I instantly didn't trust Karkaroff. He seemed oily and cold, and rather menacing looking.

"Dear old Hogwarts," he continued, looking up at the castle with a smile that didn't reach his eyes, "How good it is to be here, how good… You'll forgive that we have a slightly smaller pool of contestants, one of our students was sick with a cold and we felt it was best to leave him."

"Not at all," Dumbledore bowed, "If you do not mind."

"No, we have a good pool of potential champions, not to worry not to worry," Karkaroff simpered. I looked over at them all and saw a blond girl, who had eyes colder than Karkaroff. She looked straight at me, her eyes narrowing when I wouldn't immediately avert my gaze. The staring contest only stopped when Karkaroff motioned for his students to follow him inside the castle. I frowned at Harry and he frowned back.

"Well, I'm a little nervous about the competition now," I muttered under my breath as we all reentered the castle. Harry nodded, watching the Durmstrang students go with moderate apprehension. I pitied the Hogwarts Champion in my heart, knowing I still would probably try for it anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now we're cooking with fire! Let me know what you think (again)!


	32. Chapter Thirty - One: October 30 - October 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Abraham took Isaac's hand and led him to the lonesome hill 
> 
> While his daughter hid and watched 
> 
> She dare not breathe, she was so still 
> 
> Just an angel cried for the slaughter 
> 
> Abraham's daughter raised her voice 
> 
> The angel asked her what her name was 
> 
> She said, 'I have none.' 
> 
> Then he asked, 'How can this be?' 
> 
> 'My father never gave me one.' 
> 
> And with his sword up, raised for the slaughter, 
> 
> Abraham's daughter raised her bow. 
> 
> 'How darest you, child, defy your father?' 
> 
> 'You better let young Isaac go.'" 
> 
> ~ Arcade Fire, "Abraham's Daughter".

Chapter 31: October 30th – October 31st, 1994, Hogwarts

We all crowded into the Great Hall, the students from the other schools crowding together almost defensively. I rolled my eyes as I took my usual spot at the Gryffindor table, watching as the Beauxbatons students took their seats at the Ravenclaw table, still shivering and wrapping themselves in shawls.

“It’s warmer in here,” Hermione muttered in irritation. I nodded in agreement. The Durmstrang students made their way to sit with the Slytherin table, and they formed a clear barrier between Elena, her friend, and the rest of the Slytherins. I secretly praised everything good in the universe. Back at the Ravenclaw table, the buff immune-to-cold boy had at least five different girls fawning over him, one of who was Cho Chang.

I could see in Harry’s eyes the immediate jealousy at the sight and I actually felt a little bad for him, but mainly happy for Hermione. She was busy examining the Durmstrang students, who seemed significantly happier than the Beauxbatons lot, looking up at the starry sky with amazement and pulling off their furs, marveling at the golden plates and goblets.

Up at the Staff table, Filch was adding chairs, but he added four, not two. I looked over at Harry in confusion and he frowned back at me.

“I wonder who else is coming?” Harry offered, looking puzzled.

“Surprise!” a familiar American voice rang out behind us. We jumped and turned around to see my dad.

“Dad!” I cheered happily, wrapping my arms around his ever-growing middle.

“Uncle Nathaniel! What are you doing here?” Harry asked, standing up to hug him too.

“You’ll see, but do you mind if I sit with you all? I’d sit with Elena but the Durmstrang students give me the creeps,” Dad asked.

“Well I would say of course, but the thing is…” I sighed.

“Elena’s been having a tough time… sitting with you might do her good,” Harry lamented. Dad frowned, looking over at Elena, sitting in a corner of the table and talking with Claire quietly.

“Alright,” he nodded, “But I’ll check in with you guys later.” He got up and went to the Slytherin table, sitting down with Elena. She looked shocked to see him there, and appeared to be trying to hide her bruises and cuts with her hair. But my dad forced her to show him, and he looked downright appalled.

“That isn’t going to help her,” Neville sighed. I looked at him and frowned.

“I know, they’ll tease her more for having her dad there to help her out, right?” I asked.

“Well yeah, but also just… having a parent know… I dunno, your dad can’t do much to help her out, since I don’t think he’ll be here all the time. So he brings false hope,” Neville lamented.

I frowned and stared at my plate. All this was tearing me up inside and I wanted to scream at the night sky until I was hoarse.

“Wonder why Dad’s here,” I finally sighed, looking over at Harry. He shrugged wordlessly.

The staff entered the hall now, Karkaroff and Maxime entering with Dumbledore. When she appeared, the students of Beauxbatons stood up rapidly, much to everyone’s amusement. But they didn’t seem embarrassed in the slightest and only sat down when Maxime had. Dumbledore remained standing, and everyone in the Great Hall fell silent.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, ghosts and – most particularly – guests,” Dumbledore beamed around at us all, “I have great pleasure in welcoming you all to Hogwarts. I hope and trust that your stay here will be both comfortable and enjoyable.”

A girl from Beauxbatons clutching a muffler around her head gave a large, derisive laugh.

“No one’s making you stay,” Hermione whispered in irritation.

“The tournament will be officially opened at the end of the feast,” Dumbledore continued, “I now invite you all to eat, drink, and make yourselves at home!”

The plates in front of us filled with food as usual, but it was an even greater variety than usual, including many foreign dishes. When I saw the presence of Italian food, I eagerly grabbed as much as I could and started shoveling it into my mouth.

“Don’t eat too much, you’ll get fat… well, fat _ter_ ,” a cruel voice stated behind me. I turned around to see Pansy Parkinson, sneering at me cruelly.

“At least I’ll be happy,” I rolled my eyes, glaring at her, “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to pass along a warning,” she replied smoothly. George next to me reached to grip my hand tightly as I glared even more at Parkinson.

“And what is that?” I asked coldly.

“I wouldn’t try to interfere in your little sister’s life if I were you,” Parkinson continued, “She might have even worse consequences.”

“Are you threatening her?” I hissed.

“I wouldn’t say that. But just know with every punch you throw at Malfoy,” she leaned down to speak quietly into my ear, “She’ll get worse.”

I gripped the table in front of me angrily as she walked away, flipping her hair over her shoulder. George reached to hold tightly to my shoulder in consolation. Harry looked like he was trying really hard to not run after her and punch her.

“My little sister is going to get killed at this rate,” I hissed underneath my breath.

“We’ll stop it before that happens. _Dumbledore_ will stop it before that happens,” George soothed. I leaned into his arms and tried to calm down my heart rate. Neville and Ginny were exchanging worried looks. I took the moment to examine my appearance in the reflective surface of the spoon. I looked rather ill, indeed. I even looked a little blue. I frowned and put back down the spoon, eating the rest of my food halfheartedly.

All of us were very quiet as we finished eating, not even Fred making a sound. When we were all done, we looked up to see the two remaining empty seats had been filled. One was filled by Ludo Bagman, whom I remembered from the Quidditch World Cup. And the other person was none other than my mum.

“That’s why Dad’s here!” I gasped in understanding.

“They must be organizing the Triwizard Tournament,” Harry nodded, “It makes sense, sports and diplomacy.”

“I’m so proud of her,” I beamed, my feet tapping uncharacteristically. George, Ginny, Fred and Neville looked considerably cheerier because I looked considerably cheerier.

We received the second course and I happily filled up on dessert, now getting excited with the rest of the students about the tournament itself. Even if I didn’t get to put my name in – and I certainly hadn’t given up on that yet – it would be nice to have all the horrible adventure stuff happen to someone else for one year.

The golden plates were wiped clean and everyone immediately fell silent, watching Dumbledore with apprehension and excitement. Fred and George were leaning as close to Dumbledore as they could to listen, though I felt like on the part of George it was also an excuse to get closer to me, his chin resting on the top of my head. I muttered “Giant” under my breath and he chuckled.

“I’m not a giant, you’re just short,” he laughed.

“I’m taller than Hermione,” I muttered and he continued to laugh softly.

“The moment has come,” Dumbledore finally announced, “The Triwizard Tournament is about to start. I would like to say a few words of explanation before we bring in the casket…”

“What now?” Neville muttered.

“Sounds moderately ominous,” Ginny joked and Neville laughed appreciatively. I looked at the exchange with a slight frown.

“Just to clarify the procedure that we will follow this year. But first, let me introduce Mrs. Melinda Johnson, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation.” there was a smattering of applause from most of the Hall, but my friends and I clapped even louder, me letting out an appreciative, “ _GO MUM!_ ” My mother waved from the table, smiling at me in what was clearly pure amusement.

“And Mr. Ludo Bagman, Head of the Departmetn of Magical Games and Sports,” Dumbledore finished.

There was an equal amount of applause for him, probably because of his previous fame as a beater. He waved at the crowd, playing up their applause, and I could see my mother visibly rolling her eyes and muttering to Snape in the chair next to her.

“Mr. Bagman and Mrs. Johnson, with the aid of the prior head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, Mr. Crouch, have worked tirelessly over the last few months on the arrangements for the Triwizard Tournament,” Dumbledore continued, “and they will be joining myself, Madmae Maxime, and Professor Karkaroff on the panel that will judge the champions’ efforts.”

Everyone in the hall seemed to sit up a little straighter, their ears perking up just a little more; their eyes focused intently on Dumbledore on the mention of the word _champions_.

“The casket, then, if you please, Mr. Filch,” Dumbledore introduced. Filch brought up to Dumbledore a huge wooden chest with jewels littering the sides, looking as old as the castle itself. Everyone started muttering excitedly and George peered over me even more to look at it.

“The instructions for the tasks the champions will face this year have already been examined by Mrs. Johnson and Mr. Bagman,” Dumbledore explained, “And they have made the necessary arrangements for each challenge. There will be three tasks, spaced throughout the school year, and they will testh the champions in many different ways… their magical prowess, their daring, their powers of deduction, and of course, their ability to cope with danger.”

 _Just live my life the past three years_ , I thought cynically. Harry met my eye and we both fought to contain our chuckles.

“As you know, three champions compete in the tournament,” Dumbledore continued, “one from each of the participating schools. They will be marked on how well they perform each of the tournament tasks and the champion with the highest total after task three will win the Triwizard Cup. The champions will be chosen by an impartial selector: the Goblet of Fire.”

Dumbledore now tapped the casket with his wand three times, causing the lid to open slowly. He reached inside and pulled out a large wooden cup, filled to the brim with dancing blue-white flames. He put the goblet carefully on top of the casket so everyone could see it.

“Anybody wishing to submit themselves as champion must write their name and school clearly upon a slip of parchment and drop it into the goblet,” Dumbledore explained, “Aspiring champions have twenty-four hours in which to put their names forward. Tomorrow night, Halloween, the goblet will return the names of the three it has judged most worthy to represent their schools. The goblet will be placed in the entrance hall tonight, where it will be freely accessible to all those wishing to compete. To ensure that no underage student yields to temptation, I will be drawing an Age Line around the Goblet of Fire once it has been placed in the entrance hall. Nobody under the age of seventeen will be able to cross this line. Finally, I wish to impress upon any of you wishing to compete that this tournament is not to be entered into lightly. Once a champion has been selected by the Goblet of Fire, he or she is obliged to see the tournament through to the end. The placing of your name in the goblet constitutes a binding, magical contract. There can be no change of heart once you have become a champion. Please be very sure, therefore, that you are wholeheartedly prepared to play before you drop your name in the goblet. Now, I think it is time for bed. Good night!” he waved us off and everyone began muttering and milling about excitedly.

“An age line!” Fred gasped in excitement.

“We should be able to fool that with an Aging Potion,” George cheered, “And once your name’s in the goblet it’s gold!”

“But anyone under seventeen just hasn’t _learned_ enough, I don’t think,” Hermione frowned.

“Hermione, Harry is the case in point that that is just _not_ true,” I rolled my eyes.

“Plus speak for yourself,” George snorted, “You’ll try to get into right, Harry and Maggie?”

The light in his eyes was so overwhelming I forced myself to nod. But Harry next to me didn’t look at all as gun ho.

“I don’t think I will, no,” Harry paused, “I’ve had enough excitement for a lifetime. Time to let other people go out and do things and I watch from the sidelines.”

“That’s fair mate,” Neville nodded. Hermione looked so pleased I rolled my eyes at her.

The next morning everyone woke up early, simply to mill about the Goblet of Fire. It was sitting in the center of the entrance hall and a thin golden line in a circular shape was around it with a ten-foot radius.

“Anyone put their name in yet?” I asked Ginny, who was standing there already.

“Everyone from Durmstrang,” she explained, “But no one from Hogwarts yet. I’m waiting to see what my idiot brothers try to do.”

“Well your wait is over,” I heard George call out from behind me.

“Done it,” Fred declared triumphantly, coming down to me with George, hopping off the last step, “Just taken it.”

“The Aging Potion?” I asked.

“One drop each,” George beamed.

“You look so much older,” Ginny teased.

“You’re so aged,” I grinned, “It’s like a different person is staring at me.”

“You really should get those wrinkles checked,” Ginny furthered.

“Oh goodness, is that a white hair?” I laughed, pointing at George’s head. He squeaked in horror and immediately checked where I pointed – his hair was so long he could do so – but immediately saw that it was all still orangey-red. He stuck his tongue out at me in amusement.

“No, I’m seriously, you have crow’s feet,” Ginny giggled.

“Your hairline is definitely receding,” I nodded.

“Are those some age spots? Oh dear, we’ll have to clear those up,” Ginny was laughing extremely hard now.

“I mean, your spine is getting all hunched up, you should definitely see some sort of muggle doctor for that,” I high fived Ginny as we both laughed uncontrollably, Fred and George glaring at us.

“Oh stop,” George groaned, “We only need to be a few months older. We’re going to test it out and if it works we have extra for you Maggie.”

“Taking the fall for me, eh?” I asked, laughing.

“Gotta look out for my girl,” he teased, before whispering in my ear, “Even though I know she can look out for herself just fine.”

“Well I do appreciate you taking the fall, thanks,” I laughed, watching as they walked up to the Goblet.

“I really don’t think this will work you know,” Hermione warned, her, Harry and Neville appearing at the bottom of the steps, “Dumbledore would have thought of this.”

“Don’t count us out sweetheart,” Fred sang. I immediately looked between them with my eyebrows raised as high as they could go. Hermione flushed and I immediately turned my gaze to Harry. But, much to my chagrin, Cho was passing at that point and he was predictably preoccupied.

“Ready?” Fred asked George, “On three. One,” he nodded at his brother.

“Two,” George winked at me and I laughed.

“Three!” they jumped in together and nothing happened for a moment. I whooped slightly, thinking that it had worked, but then suddenly there was a loud sizzling sound and both of them were hurled out of the circle as though from a gun. They landed painfully ten feet from the circle itself, and a loud sizzling popping noise sounded. I ran forward to George as he and Fred sprouted identical long white beards.

I couldn’t help myself, I burst out laughing; everyone else did too, including Fred and George. I actually fell on the ground clutching my stomach tightly as I laughed.

“You almost came in too! Don’t laugh at us!” George snorted.

“I’m – so – glad – I – didn’t!” I roared, having trouble breathing.

“I did warn you,” Dumbledore suddenly called out behind us from the Great Hall, “I suggest you both go up to Madam Pomfrey. She is already tending to Miss Fawcett, of Ravenclaw, and Mr. Summers, of Hufflepuff, both of whom decided to age themselves up a little too. Though I must say, neither of their beards is at all as glorious as yours.”

Fred stood up and started walking to the Hospital Wing, but George turned to me. I smiled at him and leaned up to kiss him on his bearded cheek.

“So you’ll still kiss me when I’m old and grey?” George laughed. I turned beet red in the face. So did he, when he realized the implications of his words.

“If I’m so inclined, yes,” I stated softly. George nodded; looking flustered, and ran up to the Hospital Wing. At that moment Harry, Hermione and Neville were cheering. I turned to see Angelina Johnson, unbelievably gorgeous as always, coming over and putting her name in. All went smoothly.

“So you’re over seventeen then?” Harry asked, looking at her excitedly.

“Just had my birthday last week,” Angelina beamed.

“Well I’m so glad someone from Gryffindor is entering,” Hermione cheered, “I really hope you get it, Angelina!”

“Thanks Hermione,” Angelina smiled back at her.

“I’m so excited,” Harry grinned.

“And why’s that?” Neville asked curiously.

“FINALLY, a year when _I’m_ not the one everything’s focused on,” Harry clapped his hands together and rubbed them excitedly, “Everyone’s going to be focused on the champions and the tournament, and I get to sit on the sidelines and watch as _other_ people fear for their lives; and its not like I’m being ignoble, I can’t even enter!”

Neville and I laughed appreciatively.

“Nope, no heroic duties for you here, Harry,” Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Apart from, well, you know,” I sighed.

“One second Maggie, I would like _one_ second without the weight of the world on my shoulders,” Harry groaned, but it was half teasing.

“I know, I’m sorry,” I smiled, ruffling up his hair with my hand. Harry stuck his tongue out at me and we all headed to breakfast.

That afternoon we were all lazy and excited for the evening, so we went down to Hagrid’s. Ginny came too, though Fred and George were busy with getting their beards removed, and then they were hanging out with Lee. We both grabbed our bows and were shooting targets together in the grounds, making them move with magic.

“You know, that’s a really useful skill you both have,” Hermione commented as she read her book underneath the shade of a tree. Harry and Neville were tossing a small ball back and forth with their wands; the trick was to catch it with magic when the other person let go, and to send it back before the other person had the chance to catch it. It was a game only people good at charms could do, which both Harry and Neville were. I was abysmal.

“Yes, we can go hunting in the woods,” I rolled my eyes.

“I dunno Maggie, there are lots of situations when using magic is less than advisable,” Ginny paused, “I mean the statute of secrecy and all that.”

“Her dad would know,” Neville shouted. Ginny stuck out her tongue at him and he stuck his out back. I watched the exchange with irritated bemusement before turning back to Hermione.

“Well then why don’t you try it?” I teased. Hermione’s eyes widened and she shook her head frantically _no_.

“In primary school, I had an archery unit in physical education. I could aim just fine; it was just the physical act of pulling back the bowstring and letting it go that I was not good at. I sent an arrow through a grate and it went through to the London underground! It was exacerbated by the fact that I am, you know, a witch, so I couldn’t get the physical bow to do what it’s supposed to, but I was magically willing the arrow to move forward, so it went into a grate in the gymnasium and it went straight down into an underground train! I read about it in the news, no one in school suspected that my arrow had done that of course, but my parents and I knew. I was always doing weird stuff like that,” Hermione sighed.

“That’s hysterical,” I chortled, clutching at my sides for the second time today, “You shot the London Underground.”

“The District Line was right underneath my feet, what can I say,” Hermione sighed.

“You’re from London?” Neville asked curiously, “I never knew that.”

“It’s because you never asked,” Hermione replied shrewdly.

“Geez Neville, pay more attention,” Ginny teased. Neville stuck out his tongue at her again. I could feel the hairs on the back of my neck bristling slightly as my teeth clenched without my permission.

“Anyone else want to give archery a try?” I suggested, unclenching my teeth and grinning at Harry and Neville.

Harry rolled his eyes, “I’m better at catching things than trying to let them go.”

“I just feel like I shouldn’t be trusted around particularly sharp objects,” Neville shook his head madly. Harry didn’t realize he wasn’t paying attention – or maybe he did. At any rate, he magically tossed the ball back at Neville, who wasn’t ready to catch it. It hit him in the side of the face and he fell to the ground in shock, shouting, “Ow!”

“Oh! Sorry Neville!” Harry groaned.

“See?” Neville grunted, rubbing the side of his face, “Keep me away from sharp objects.”

“What about the sword of Godric Gryffindor?” I laughed. Neville flushed again.

“Alright. Sharp objects that you’re supposed to fling around, I guess,” Neville rolled his eyes.

“You could fling a sword,” Ginny laughed.

“It wouldn’t be _advisable_ ,” Hermione sighed.

“Don’t give anyone any ideas about throwing swords,” I agreed, laughing.

“Throwing a sword would have made fighting the basilisk easier, though,” Harry commented thoughtfully.

“If you could aim it correctly, it wouldn’t be a _terrible_ idea,” Ginny agreed.

“You just have to account for the weight and the balance of the thing, and you’d have to practice a lot with the sword in question,” Harry furthered.

“Oh lord, please don’t practice throwing the sword of Gryffindor,” Hermione groaned, burying her head in her eyes.

“This is the worst idea that has ever been conceived,” I agreed.

“They’re going to do it, guys, let’s just give up,” Neville laughed.

I laughed with him and was distracted from my friends by the sound of a door slamming shut. Hagrid left his hut, looking strangely well groomed for once. He was wearing his nicest, uncomfortably hairy brown suit, a painfully vibrant yellow and orange tie, and his hair looked like he had tried to comb through it but had used axle grease to calm it down instead. We all looked at Hagrid in complete shock, our mouths hanging open.

“You lot come inside,” he ordered, rather than acknowledge our ogling, “It’s going to rain soon.”

We all scurried inside the hut, and with the five of us in there it was very cramped. But we all took cups of tea from Hagrid, who positively reeked of cologne.

“You lot excited for the tournament?” Hagrid asked cheerfully. We all nodded, eagerly sipping our tea. It had been moderately chilly outside and the warm beverage was a surprising godsend.

“You wait,” Hagrid beamed, “Oh jus’ you wait. Yer going ter see some stuff yeh’ve never seen before. The firs’ task… ah, I’m not supposed ter say.”

“Oh please Hagrid!” Neville and Ginny begged in unison. I hid my frown in my cup. How much time had they been spending together? If Ginny was just going to use Neville to make Harry jealous… He didn’t deserve that at _all_.

“I don’ want ter spoil it fer yeh,” Hagrid insisted, “But it’s gonna be spectacular, I’ll tell yeh that. Them champions’re going ter have their work cut out.”

At this point it was getting to be the evening, and the feast was approaching. We all stood up and got ready to go, but Hagrid was staying behind.

“I’ll catch up with yeh,” he waved his hand, “Go, go.”

We all left, looking at each other in confusion.

“He was wearing cologne right? I wasn’t making that up?” I asked in confusion.

“Nope,” Harry shook his head reassuringly.

Hagrid stomped out past us suddenly, hurrying over to a point a little ways away. We all watched with pure amazement as he approached none other than Madame Maxime. He was talking to her with the same expression I saw on Harry’s face whenever he was lucky enough to get Cho Chang to talk to him.

“Oh my goodness, he’s going to the castle with her!” Hermione gasped.

Hagrid trudged up with Madame Maxime, the Beauxbatons students jogging to keep up behind them. I looked at the others in amazement, my bow going slack in my hand. Ginny’s fell to the ground with a clatter.

“He fancies her,” Neville stated. We all nodded mutely.

“Their kids will be _enormous_ ,” Harry commented.

“Records will be broken,” Ginny sighed, scrambling to pick up her bow.

“This is just not feasible,” I muttered.

“He is a living organism,” Neville defended. I looked at him incredulously.

“Well I mean come on. He could have… urges,” Neville shrugged.

Harry and I both pretended to vomit violently before we all hurried up into the Great Hall. Ginny and I stood out with our giant bows and quivers of arrows, but we didn’t care much, too eager for the feast to want to go all the way to the seventh floor to put away our things in the Common Room.

“Oh I _do_ hope it’s Angelina,” Hermione gasped.

“So do we,” two voices rang out in unison. Fred and George appeared behind us, clean-shaven and young looking again. George beamed at me and sat down next to me, putting a kiss on my head. I blushed and smiled back at him. Fred rolled his eyes and sat next to Hermione.

“And how was your lot’s day?” he asked calmly.

“Oh fine, we were outside,” Hermione paused, “And how was removing the beard?” Her voice had a teasing ring to it.

“Oh brutal. It took so long to shear off,” Fred groaned.

“Well that’ll teach you for trying to fight against Dumbledore,” Hermione smirked.

Harry watched the exchange in bemusement and I smiled behind my hand. Whatever Hermione was doing, it was clearly confusing the boy in question.

“Oh please, since when do I learn a lesson like that?” Fred teased in response, now turning to talk to Lee Jordan on his other side. Ginny and Neville were deep in conversation about something involving arithmancy, which Ginny had started taking this term, so absorbed in the conversation that I wondered almost scathingly how they were going to hear the announcement of the champions. George could feel that I had gotten tense and was now gently massaging my arms. I turned to him and smiled in thanks, leaning up to give him a quick kiss. Harry blanched nearby and I stuck my tongue out at him.

The Halloween feast seemed outlandish this time, probably because we had already feasted the day before. I wasn’t really up to eat so much food as I had been yesterday, or was normally. Everyone was constantly looking over at Dumbledore in excitement, anxiously awaiting the part of the day we had all been waiting for. I looked over to the Slytherin table. The Durmstrang students were still in between Elena, Claire, and the other Slytherins. However, my dad wasn’t there with them today.

“I’m going to sit with you all today,” my father stated behind me right at that moment. I jumped slightly in my seat in surprise. He sat in between Neville and me, which I was surprisingly irritated with. I was probably irritatd mostly because he was trying to keep an eye on George and me.

“Why, Uncle Nathaniel?” Harry asked in concern.

“Elena asked me too,” Dad sighed, “It’s really bad, isn’t it?”

Harry and I nodded grimly.

“I’ve talked to the Professors and they’re going to keep a look out. And your mum and I will be here a lot this year. I just am so worried. She’s not Elena,” Dad shook his head sadly.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“She isn’t herself. She seems defeated. She’s being so abused and she just seems to have lost the will to even fight anymore,” Dad explained as he lightly picked at his food, “Her friend Claire is helping but she doesn’t enjoy having her battles fought for her, either.”

“I wish they would just bloody leave her alone,” I muttered underneath my breath.

“I do too,” Dad frowned, “But kids are kids, and unfortunately too much intervention by anyone could just make things worse.”

“I know,” I sighed, looking in Neville’s direction without thinking.

“But we have to do something,” Hermione blurted without thinking. I raised an eyebrow at her.

“You saw what happened Maggie,” Hermione shook her head, sadly, “I don’t know your sister that well, so I don’t know if she’s acting any differently than normal. But I saw what happened. Those Slytherins _pushed books on top of her_ from the other side of the bookshelf. She didn’t even see it coming and they just covered her in a lot of heavy books! She could have been seriously injured, or worse.”

I cringed and swallowed heavily. My dad held his face in his hands for a brief moment before looking at Hermione.

“There will be a better lookout,” he paused, “But there’s only so much we can do. She’s going to have to learn to stick up for herself again.”

I looked at Neville a second time before hurriedly turning back to my food.

Soon after, Dumbledore stood to his feet and everyone suddenly fell silent. My mum smiled at me almost imperceptibly from the table and I beamed back. Everyone was watching Dumbledore with rapt attention, and you could hear a pin drop.

“Well, the goblet is almost ready to make its decision,” Dumbledore explained, pointing to the moved cup that was now in front of him at the table, “I estimate that it requires one more minute. Now, when the champions’ names are called, I would ask them please to come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through into the next chamber,” he pointed to the door behind the staff table, “Where they will be receiving their first instructions.”

Dumbledore waved his wand so that all the candles would be extinguished, making the room eerily dark. The Goblet of Fire sparkled blue and white in the room, casting everyone into strange shadows as everyone leaned towards it, tense and excited. Even my dad was clearly on edge, his fingers gripping the table. Suddenly, the flames of the Goblet turned a bright red and sparks flew from it. A tongue of flame shot into the air, and a charred piece of parchment flew out. I gasped in shock without thinking, covering my mouth immediately afterwards.

Dumbledore caught the parchment and held it out to read it in the light of the Goblet. I couldn’t even breathe.

“The champion for Durmstrang,” he read, “Will be Effi Rosenthal.”

There was a smattering of applause from everyone but the Durmstrang students cheered somewhat. A blonde girl arose from the Slytherin table – I recognized her as the girl who had stared at me yesterday. She was strongly built, very tall and very muscular. She had very thick blonde hair separated into two long braids on either side of her head. She had a broad jaw and thick eyebrows and she looked like she had never smiled before a day in her life. She held her head proudly and walked through the hall down to the door to the next chamber, her cloak billowing out behind her as she stomped out. I looked at Harry with my eyes wide.

“I don’t envy the people who have to fight against _her_ ,” I whispered softly. Harry nodded in eager agreement.

“She was downright terrifying,” he hissed. We immediately fell silent as the goblet turned red again. The second piece of parchment flew out, and Dumbledore caught it and read it.

“The champion for Beauxbatons,” Dumbledore introduced, “Is Matteo DiSalvo!”

I recognized him, too – he was the handsome tanned boy who hadn’t needed any cloak outside the day before. He stood up to quite a bit more applause than Effi had gotten. He was tall as well, and also very buff, with long shaggy dark brown hair. His skin was very tan and he looked like something out of an Italian football magazine. His teeth were also very white; they glowed in the dull lighting as he smiled at everyone. I could visibly see girls everywhere swooning over him.

“Much too pretty,” I muttered in George’s ear, and he nodded in agreement.

He happily walked into the other chamber and the sense of excitement grew even more. It was time to find out the Hogwarts champion and I could taste the anticipation in the air. I gripped George’s arm tightly.

The Goblet turned red again and the parchment flew into the air, Dumbledore expertly catching it. He held it out and read in a clear voice, “The Hogwarts champion… is Angelina Johnson!”

“YES!” everyone at the Gryffindor table stood up and roared with excitement as Angelina, looking flustered but happy (and also scared,) stood up and hurried over to the other chamber. We were all still screaming at the tops of our lungs as she rushed out, smiling widely at everyone. I couldn’t feel my vocal chords after a while, I was shouting so loudly. Hermione was actually jumping up and down and Fred and George were high fiving eagerly. Ginny and Neville were beaming at each other and Harry and I were gripping each other’s hands and grinning in excitement.

It was a very long time before Dumbledore could talk again.

“Excellent!” Dumbledore called happily, “Well, we now have our three champions. I am sure I can count on all of you, including the remaining students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, to give your champions every ounce of support you can muster. By cheering your champion on, you will contribute in a very real…”

Dumbledore suddenly grew very quiet. The goblet had turned red again. Sparks were flying out, and a long flame of fire shot suddenly into the air. Dumbledore seized the piece of parchment attached automatically. Everyone in the room stared at Dumbledore in shock, watching in equal amazement as he read aloud, as clearly as he could muster, “ _Harry Potter_.”

I don’t think my brain was working quite correctly. I turned to look at Harry, my mouth dropping open with shock. Hermione and Neville also were gaping at Harry, as were Ginny, George, Fred, and my dad. Harry looked like all the blood had drained out of his face and he had the worst nightmare face I had ever seen, and I had been with him for a lot.

Up in the front of the hall, my mum and McGonagall had approached Dumbledore hurriedly, whispering with him quite loudly. Everyone in the hall was whispering loudly, like the hum of insects everywhere. No one was applauding or cheering.

“I didn’t…” Harry whispered, “I didn’t…”

I nodded silently in shock.

“You _know_ I didn’t put my name in,” Harry managed to blurt out.

“We know,” all of us in our little crowd managed to say.

“Harry Potter!” Dumbledore’s voice rang out through the hall, “Harry! Up here, please!”

“Go, Harry, you have to go,” Hermione urged. Harry got to his feet and walked rapidly up to the front of the room, apparently in a rush to get out of there, tripping on his robes all the while. My dad immediately followed, running to catch up. I wanted to follow but something kept me rooted to my spot.

 _How did he…_ I thought in bemusement, but I knew he hadn’t done it. You just had to look at his face. Hermione looked at me in terror.

“Who could have done this?” she whispered anxiously.

“Not Harry, that’s for sure,” Neville shook his head.

“Did you see his face?” Ginny muttered, “He looked like he’d seen a ghost!”

“He was so happy this afternoon,” I groaned, holding my face in my hands. George comfortingly rubbed my shoulder.

“It’s okay,” Fred agreed, “They won’t make him compete. I mean come on. There can only be three champions and he’s underage.”

“But it’s a binding magical contract,” Hermione contradicted, glaring at Fred, “He can’t get out of it.”

“That’s bullocks,” I roared. It was so loud that everyone in the hall was staring at me. I didn’t even blink.

“He shouldn’t have to compete,” I hissed under my breath, “He _didn’t put his name in_.”

“But that doesn’t matter, don’t you see Maggie! He’s bound, magically! And it’s in the rules. They have to follow them,” Hermione looked on the verge of tears, “I don’t like this any more than you do.”

I was clutching my bow and I could feel it creaking in my hand. George was trying to sooth me but it wasn’t working.

“Nice going Johnson,” I heard someone shout from the Slytherin table – of course, it was Malfoy. I glared at him.

“What are you on about?” I roared.

“Your idiot cousin had to go and break the rules again and enter! Well it’s just as well, he’ll die in five minutes anyway,” Malfoy laughed. Everyone at the Slytherin table laughed with him. I jumped to my feet and ran across the hall, jumping from table to table to do so, stepping on a bunch of people’s fingers. I smashed Malfoy against the wall next and punched him twice in the face.

“ _Miss! Johnson!_ ” I turned around to see Professor Vector rip me off of Malfoy, “ _Contain yourself!_ ”

“He couldn’t have entered himself,” Neville shouted through the room. I turned around, amazed. He was addressing the hall, his voice shaking slightly and his face pink, but he looked braver than I had ever seen him. “I’ve literally been with him every second since the Goblet was put up yesterday. He couldn’t have.”

“Probably did when you were asleep,” someone from Ravenclaw replied shrewdly.

“Lousy attention wh***,” a Slytherin nearby seethed. I roared again and Vector couldn’t hold me back as I lunged at the oily faced boy nearby. Luckily, George had run over and restrained me tightly in his arms.

“Calm down! You’re not helping Harry right now!” George hissed in my ear. I squirmed for another minute before burying my face in my hands.

“Everyone, get to bed,” Professor Vector suddenly shouted, addressing the hall, “Now!”

George practically carried me away to the Gryffindor Tower, urging the others of our friends to go. We all hurried up there and everyone inside of the Common Room was now staring at each other in shock.

“We believe you, Neville,” Seamus Finnegan stated calmly from one end of the room, “Even if none of the other Houses do.”

“You really do spend all your time together,” Dean nodded.

“Plus I was up all last night,” Ron shrugged. Everyone looked at him in confusion as he amended, “There was a spider in my bed. Anyway, Harry didn’t get up, he was snoring like a log.”

“Plus he clearly had no urge to be in it,” Fred muttered. Everyone nodded in mutual agreement.

“No Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff is going to buy it, much less Slytherin,” I sighed, looking round at everyone, “We all have to be behind Harry.”

“And Angelina,” Alicia Spinnet protested from the other side of the room.

“Of course,” Lee Jordan reassured. Most people got ready to go to bed, but my mates and I all stayed, waiting up for Harry. After a while, he and Angelina appeared through the portrait hole. Angelina clapped him on the shoulder before hurrying up the girl’s staircase. Harry walked over to us and frowned.

“I swear I didn’t…”

“We know,” we all reassured immediately. I rushed forward and threw my arms around him in a hug.

“They’re making you compete then, I assume?” Hermione sighed.

“Yes, though Aunt Melinda was absolutely furious,” Harry paused, “She knew we couldn’t break the rulebook but she suggested disbanding the tournament altogether.”

“Who stopped that, then?” Neville asked calmly. He looked older than I had ever seen him.

“Everyone else,” Harry sighed, “We couldn’t really. Everyone was already over here and they put in a lot of effort to get the tournament going. There wasn’t much of a choice. But she’s ready to kill. No one, except Snape of course, and the heads of the other two schools, really thinks I did it.”

“You looked like someone had died, Harry, of course no one think you put your name in,” Fred rolled his eyes.

“Plus you aren’t the Hogwarts champion, not really,” Hermione responded shrewdly, “The Goblet must have been hoodwinked or something, to make you from an extra school, that’s how you got chosen along with Angelina. And that’s really powerful magic, not something you could do, no offense.”

“That’s what Moody said,” Harry responded dully.

“So what do you know about the first task?” George asked after a long while. Harry swallowed and shrugged.

“Only that we’re not allowed to use magic,” he muttered.

“WHAT?!” we all shouted in unison. He nodded.

“Yup, I have to prepare in non-magical combat methods, according to Bagman,” Harry looked at me desperately, “Will you help?”

I clapped him on the shoulder, “Always Harry.” We all looked gravely at each other as I repeated, “Always.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun duuuun! Please let me know what you think!


	33. Chapter Thirty - Two: November 1 - 14, 1994, Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You find your way back down 
> 
> And I'll keep the area clear 
> 
> Please clear the area 
> 
> When you find your way back down 
> 
> In one piece 
> 
> Then I'll just be waiting here 
> 
> Right here." 
> 
> ~ Imogen Heap, "Clear the Area"

Chapter 32: November 1 – 14, 1994, Hogwarts

The next morning I ran down to breakfast as soon as I woke up, which I forced myself to do earlier than usual. The last thing Harry needed was to go down to the Great Hall, where everyone would accuse him of lying and breaking the rules. He didn't need a thousand eyes on him at once.

I ran to the table and began stacking food onto my plate, shoveling it into my mouth. I was so focused on eating fast that I jumped when I felt a hand tap my shoulder.

"How'd he do it, Johnson?" I heard a snide voice ask. I turned around to see Malfoy, sneering at me in hatred.

"He didn't," I snapped back, standing up and piling toast for Harry into my hands, "Now let me be."

"He won't last five minutes in the tournament," Malfoy continued, "You better get your goodbye ready."

"Oh just leave me alone Malfoy," I snapped, shoving my shoulder into his as I walked past. I returned to the Gryffindor common room and found Neville getting out of bed for the morning.

"Mind giving this to Harry?" I asked calmly. He nodded, grabbing the toast and going back up the stairs as I turned around and walked back out, going to Professor McGonagall's office calmly.

When I opened the door, however, I was met with a surprise. Hermione was sitting in front of Professor McGonagall's desk, a goblet in her hand.

"Miss Johnson!" Professor McGonagall gasped. I looked at Hermione in shock.

"What are you doing here?" I asked in confusion.

"Same as you," Hermione responded calmly.

"Wait  _what_?"

"Miss Granger has been coming in the morning the past couple of weeks to take the Animagus potion," Professor McGonagall clarified, "She expressed interest at the end of last year and insisted when the term began."

"You're kidding," I gasped, "I couldn't tell at all."

"You've been busy with George," Hermione rolled her eyes, gulping down the goblet, "I was going to tell you soon, but one thing after another has come up."

"You've got that right," I paused, looking at Professor McGonagall.

"May I ask why you're here Miss Johnson?" she asked.

"You have to let Harry off," I begged, "Look, he didn't want to be in the tournament in the first place, and he could bloody well  _die-"_

"Please don't swear Miss Johnson," Professor McGonagall paused, "And I cannot. His name coming out of the Goblet is a binding magical contract. If he does not compete, he will forfeit his magical powers. Which I believe would be a fate worse for him given all that tends to happen in his life."

I scowled and looked at Hermione in irritation. She frowned at me.

"There really is no way out, Maggie," Hermione reassured.

I groaned and left the office in a huff, slamming the door behind me. I would not be a fan of this, no matter what.

The rest of that day Harry spent cooped up in the Gryffindor Common Room, as the entire rest of the school did not believe that he hadn't entered himself. The Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws, usually so friendly with the Gryffindors, were angry that the Gryffindors were once again receiving all the glory, and that Harry was once again at the center of things. And of course the Slytherins always hated the Gryffindors. So, naturally, Harry spent the day locked up where he wasn't bothered.

Neville, Hermione and I tended to form a small circle around him as we walked to class, to hide him from general view. Though he still received ridicule, at least it was only by the boldest of students. When he went to Divination, Ron stood guard; tall enough and glaring frequently enough that people also gave them wide berth.

But after two days of this, however, Harry finally snapped, throwing his books down angrily on the table.

"I don't want to be babied anymore you guys," he almost yelled, furiously glaring at all of us through his messy hair. Hermione looked up from her helping Neville in Transfiguration with shock, as George and I stopped cuddling on the couch. Ron and Fred also looked at Harry in surprise.

"I get it, that you guys want me to get away from all the mocking and hatred and all the rest. Look, I appreciate it. You guys are my best friends in the world. But for the love of  _Merlin,_ I want to be able to walk to class on my own, got it?" Harry snapped.

"You're in danger, Harry," I pointed out, "Someone is clearly trying to kill you."

"Yeah, well, they'll wait until the tournament won't they, it'll be pretty pointless if I die before then, won't it?" Harry scowled, "Just, leave me alone, all of you."

We all nodded in silent agreement, and for the rest of the week none of us actually saw or talked to Harry outside of class. I don't know when he ate or walked to class, or got up or went to bed – Neville and Ron apparently didn't see him enter or leave the dormitory either. But he sat in the backs of our classes and refused to interact or acknowledge anyone. After two weeks of this, Hermione looked positively heartbroken.

"Harry's being a prat, okay?" I reassured as Ancient Runes started up, "He's under a lot of stress and he's being a prat."

"I know," Hermione sniffled softly as we started translating advanced Chinese runes, "I just want to help him. And the potion is making me feel so ill."

"Oh trust me, I remember," I paused, "Why are you doing that, anyway?"

"You've seen Padfoot," Hermione paused, "I figured having a secret skill would come in handy if and when You-Know-Who comes back." She said all of this in a whisper, trying to not draw attention to us. I could see Sam watching us from his corner of the room, frowning. I purposefully ignored him, annoyed by his standoffish attitude, which was much like Harry's attitude at the moment, really.

"Well you're right, but having  _two_ of us is bound to draw more attention than one," I muttered softly.

"Well that's why we're not going to include Harry or Neville in this," Hermione paused, "Not to mention, Neville is an absolute clot at transfiguration and would get himself hurt. No offense to the boy but that's not his talent."

"And Harry doesn't have the determination," I furthered, "I mean the kid would be great at transfiguration if he bothered to do the reading. Or write the essays in advance. Or practice outside of class."

"So put in effort, you mean?" Hermione giggled softly, no longer sniffling with sadness.

"Exactly what I mean. Honestly the boy is a prat, Hermione, just let him work out whatever he's working out," I rolled my eyes. Hermione nodded and we focused on the lesson. After class I started packing up my books when Sam walked up to us.

"I just want you both to know that I don't think Potter put his name in," Sam paused, "Many Ravenclaws actually agree, too. Simply because to do so would require a lot of magic that is simply outside of Potter's ability." I scowled at the backhanded slight but nodded.

"Everything always happens to him though, doesn't it?" Sam remarked, smirking. His sleeves were rolled up and I could clearly see the tattoo of a tiger on his upper arm. Hermione was looking at me impatiently, clearly wanting to leave.

"Yeah, well, that's what tends to happen when you defeat a big evil wizard before you're old enough to walk," I paused, "Not everyone has the luxury to mope about their parents' death in solitude."

Sam glared at me and opened his mouth to retort, but Hermione dragged me forcefully away. "Do you  _want to_ make everyone hate you?" she hissed in my ear.

"Just being rude to a rude person, Hermione," I responded equally softly as we headed to potions.

As we stood outside of the door to the potions classroom, the Slytherins were mulling about, muttering to each other and sniggering. I looked at them apprehensively as Neville walked up behind me, instantly scowling.

"I overheard them at breakfast," Neville sighed, "They only ever bash Harry now. Used to be the four of us got equal representation in some form."

I glared over at the Slytherins and scowled. At that moment, Harry finally joined us, standing over in the back of the group.

"Oi! Potter!" Pansy Parkinson called out. Harry didn't acknowledge her, but instead stared intently at a wall.

"Oh Poooooo-tteeeeeeer," she sang, and the group of Slytherins shoved past us Gryffindors towards him. I clenched my fists at my sides and Neville reached over to my arm and squeezed it, probably trying to keep me calm. It wasn't working much.

"How'd ya do it, Potter? You still haven't answered my question," Parkinson sneered. I gritted my teeth and tried to count to ten in my head. Harry continued to ignore her, and she stood right in front of his face.

"Wanna see what Malfoy cooked up?" Parkinson continued, "Look at this, Potter." She shoved a button right into his face. The button clearly stated  _POTTER STINKS_ in flashing green letters. My fists clenched tighter, my nails digging into my palms so much that I felt pain.

"Very funny," Hermione scowled, "Really witty, that is."

"Thanks Granger," my least favorite voice rang out behind us. Malfoy had just arrived, grinning with pride, "I'm very proud of them. Do you want one? I have loads. But do me a favor and don't touch my hand, you see I had a bath this morning and I'd rather not get dirty  _quite_ so soon from a filthy, immigrant Mudblood like yourself."

Harry roared in anger just as I did, but got to Hermione first. He ran in front of Hermione and pulled out his wand, pressing the tip of it into Malfoy's chest, sneering. Neville was holding me back from leaping onto Malfoy's back and actually clawing out his hair, which is what my instinct had been to do.

" _Harry_ ," Hermione begged warningly.

"Come on then, Potter," Malfoy quietly hissed, pulling out his own wand, "Go right ahead, no one's going to look out for you, are they?"

Harry glared and just as Malfoy screamed " _Densaugeo!_ " he screamed, " _Protego!_ "

Suddenly a jet of light bounced off of a clear shield in front of Harry and back at Draco, hitting him square in the chest. Instantly Draco fell to the ground, clutching his mouth in terror.

I rushed forward to help Harry where he fell on the ground and saw that Draco's front teeth were extending past his jaw, going down to his chin, like a beaver. I let out a snort of laughter as I helped Harry to his feet. He glared at Draco, brushing off his shirt.

"Don't you  _dare_ attack Hermione ever again," he snarled softly. I looked at Harry in complete shock, and Hermione's eyes were as wide as saucers.

"And what is all this?" drawled the voice of Snape. I turned around and stood tall, clearing my throat before anyone on Malfoy's side could.

"Malfoy and Parkinson were taunting Potter, sir," I stated calmly, looking him straight in the eye, "Malfoy cursed Potter and Potter used a shield charm to protect himself and Granger. It bounced back and hit Malfoy and now his teeth are growing quite a lot."

Snape surveyed the scene and all the Gryffindors were nodding eagerly, some glaring at the Slytherins as if to challenge them to disagree. Parkinson was seething.

"Potter, twenty points from Gryffindor for using magic in the corridors. Malfoy, thirty points from Slytherin for attacking another student. Parkinson, take Malfoy up to the hospital wing," Snape finally snapped, before rushing into the classroom. I looked at him and sighed in relief, happy that he believed me.

Harry sat next to me instead of by himself, slamming his bag down next to the desk. I looked at him in shock and raised my eyebrows in his direction.

"Sorry," Harry muttered, "I'm just… this is all overwhelming."

"I know," I muttered in response as the class began. I immediately went silent, not wanting to draw attention to myself.

But midway through the lesson, the door opened and Colin Creevey entered. We all looked up and at him in surprise.

"Professor Snape, sir, I'm supposed to take Harry Potter and Maggie Johnson upstairs," he explained calmly, though he did stutter slightly.

Snape's eyes narrowed, "They have another hour of Potions to complete. They will come upstairs when class is complete."

Collin cleared his throat, looking embarrassed, "Sir, sir Mr. Bagman and Mrs. Johnson want them," he stammered, "All the champions have got to go, and they want families too, I'm sorry sir, I think they want to interview them…"

I frowned angrily and clenched my fists at my sides.

"Fine, very well," Snape scowled, "Go, the both of you."

We both gathered our things and headed up the staircase behind Colin. Colin knew better than to talk too much to Harry. I was simply glaring at the walls, angry that this was happening at all.

"The last thing I need is more publicity," Harry muttered angrily underneath his breath.

"Yes well, it's unlikely that you would have avoided it," I paused, "Best to just try to stay as under the radar as possible."

Harry nodded as we reached the room, entering without knocking. It was a tiny classroom, with the other three champions sitting on three chairs next to Ludo Bagman and my mom. Elena and my dad were standing in a corner, though I didn't see the families of any of the other champions.

"Why have they asked us?" I hissed at Elena while Harry joined the other champions. Elena shrugged, not looking at me like always.

"I have no idea. I expect it's because your mother is organizing the tournament and her adopted son is a champion," Dad muttered irritably. I groaned softly and looked up at the ceiling, my arms folded tightly across my chest.

"This is just the wand weighing ceremony, Harry," Bagman cheerfully explained, "No need to worry, no need to worry."

"Wand weighing?" Harry asked nervously.

"We just have to check that your wands are functioning properly, no real problems or the like," my mum explained, "Since, apart from the first task, they are your most important tool going forward. We have a wand expert, Mr. Ollivander **,** **and**  then we have Rita Skeeter here, who wants to do a piece on the champions and myself for the  _Daily Prophet_."

The venom in her voice was palpable. I looked worriedly at Dad and he was sneering, his eyes narrowed in distaste on a woman wearing bright green robes, with rigidly curled blonde hair, somewhat tan skin and jeweled glasses. She was looking at Harry like he was a piece of meat and I felt myself snarl without warning.

"I would like to conduct my interviews before we begin," Skeeter explained calmly, "Just to get their perspectives before the tournament even officially begins."

"Certainly!" Bagman agreed happily.

"I would like to make certain things clear first, Skeeter," Mum stated calmly. She walked forward to Rita Skeeter and stuck a piece of official looking parchment in front of her. It was covered in writing.

"What is this?" Rita Skeeter asked in surprise.

"This is a letter from my lawyer. _Yes_ , my lawyer. You see, Skeeter, even though we may be witches and live mainly under the jurisdiction of the magical government, we still are citizens of the United Kingdom and we still are protected by and must follow its laws," Mum continued, "As such, lawyers exist in the Wizarding world with degrees in Muggle law, allowing them to serve on trials in special magical courts on issues of strictly Muggle law. This protects the statute of secrecy but also protects our rights. You are familiar with the Smith & Jones Firm on Diagon Alley, I presume?"

Skeeter watched my mum calmly, glaring ever so slightly as she nodded her head.

"Now I'm not sure you're aware, but there's a certain set of laws protecting people in the public eye from defamation of character. This means that any published statement which is alleged to defame a named or identifiable individual in a manner which causes them loss in their trade or profession, or causes a reasonable person to think worse of them, can be presented in court and you will have to mitigate damages and retract all statements. So why am I telling you this?" Mum continued calmly.

Skeeter's eyes were completely narrowed now, staring angrily at Mum.

"This means that if you misrepresent what I say in any sort of publication, I will sue you for libel and make your life very, very difficult for you," Mum said sternly, "You must conduct all interviews with all people present in this room in the presence of witnesses, and you may not use a Quick Quotes Quill."

"And why may I not?" Skeeter snapped.

"Because the entire purpose of the Quill, as advertised by its manufacturer, is to take notes for another person and embellish them. While this is useless for students, as it completely makes up facts; this is perfect for you, a sensationalist reporter, is it not?" Mum snapped, "It says in the product description that it embellishes the truth. You may not use it, or I will sue."

Skeeter sat back, looking furious, but muttered, "Alright."

"Excellent," my mum stated, clearly pleased, "Now my lawyer couldn't be present today, but I trust that my family, who I insisted must come to this interview as you are aware, will serve as witnesses. I am familiar with both wizard and Muggle law and will serve as legal council today. Furthermore, the other champions in the room, and Ludo Bagman, may also serve."

Skeeter glared but nodded.

"Excellent," Mum repeated, "You may now ask everyone in the room whatever questions you wish,  _with a regular quill_."

Skeeter pulled out a regular quill from her handbag and a length of parchment, sitting back on a desk and placing the quill angrily to the parchment. She looked to Harry and narrowed her eyes, but this time more in concentration. I knew she would now probably try to trick him into saying something misleading, or something that wasn't even true.

"So Harry, what made you decide to enter the Triwizard Tournament?"

Harry swallowed painfully and stated, "I didn't put my name in, I don't know how it got in, but I did not put it in there."

Skeeter laughed, "Come now, Harry,  **my**  readers love a rebel, and you cannot get in trouble  _now_  for having entered."

"I did not enter," Harry calmly repeated.

"My son says he did not enter, he did not enter," Dad stated calmly behind us. I looked at Dad in shock. He  _never_  called Harry ‘son’.

Skeeter leered and continued on, "And the rest of you? Why did you choose to enter the tournament?"

"I wish to bring honor to Hogwarts, and I want to make my parents proud," Angelina stated calmly, looking nervous.

"Back home in Italia I am always entering dares and competing, yes," Matteo explained in a surprisingly thick Italian accent, gesticulating wildly with his hands, "It's, ah, my favorite, to compete; and this is the-an ultimate competition. And my  _genitori_ said  _molto bene_ , so I am here."

"I believe I can win," Effi practically grumbled, not offering much more information on the subject.

She had a whole bunch of lines scribbled down for Harry, but as each champion answered her question she wrote barely more than a few words, even for the attractive and charismatic Matteo.

"And how do you feel about the tasks ahead, Harry? Nervous? Excited?"

"I haven't thought much about it," Harry frowned, "I suppose I'm nervous."

"Well champions have died in the past," Skeeter said almost  _cheerfully_ , "I don't suppose you've thought about that. Figure you can get out of the tournament since you, ahem,  _didn't enter yourself_ , am I correct?"

"No," Harry replied, "I am aware I cannot exit the tournament. But they say that it should be a lot safer this year than it has been in the past."

"Yes, they have guaranteed that," Angelina interjected calmly. Rita Skeeter frowned and scribbled down something that I couldn't quite make out.

"Would you like to answer the question yourself, Miss Johnson?" Skeeter stated.

"I would prefer if you addressed me by my first name," Angelina responded bitingly, "So it won't be misleading that I am in Mrs. Johnson's family."

"Yes, she is not related to me," Mum stated calmly.

Skeeter scratched something out with her quill, "Fine,  _Angelina_. Would you like to answer the question?"

"Of course I am nervous," Angelina responded, "But I'm excited as well. I have never quite faced something like this before."

"Yes, that is where you have an advantage, isn't it Harry?" Skeeter turned back to Harry, "You've looked death in the face  _many_ times before, haven't you."

"Ah, excuse me," Matteo interjected, "We have not answered your  _domanda_."

"Right," Skeeter's quill was digging into the parchment, creating a giant inkblot.

"I am excited,  _signora_ ," Matteo continued, "I too have never faced a challenge quite like this, and I look forward to utilizing my skills and bring pride to  _Italia_."

"Yes," Skeeter scribbled down one word messily, "And you, Effi?"

"I wish to do my best, so I am nervous," Effi responded coldly, "And I find all this excitement and superfluous rigmarole counter-productive."

"… Right," Skeeter wrote down three words for that one, "Now,  _Harry_ , do you think that your past trauma and experiences might make you keen to prove yourself? To live up to your name? Do you think that it's oddly convenient that you've been entered into the Triwizard Tournament because you feel like you must prove your worth as a wizard?"

"I do not think I need to prove anything," Harry paused, "Everything I've done has made me exhausted; I do not wish to be here. All of my mates here at school can attest to that. But I will do my best so that I do not die, given that I do not know as much magic as my competitors."

I wanted to shout something about Harry and how it was obvious he had nothing to prove to anybody, but Dad was glaring at me and I managed to keep my mouth shut.

"And how do you feel, Mrs. Johnson? Proud? Worried? Angry? How would Harry's  _real_ parents have felt?" Skeeter turned to Mum calmly, and I felt my fists clench at my sides.

"First, I am proud of all that Harry has accomplished in his time here at Hogwarts. He is a good student, clearly cares about his friends, and has done many a thing worth praising to protect the people he cares about. I could not be any prouder of  _any_ of my three children," Mum paused, "Nor could Nathaniel. Am I worried? Of course I am. I'm absolutely worried. Worried? I'm terrified! Harry is only  _fourteen years old!_  We designed these tasks for older witches and wizards. I believe he can handle them, given his background, but I am his mother. I worry about him and Margaret and Elena. I am angry, as well, not at him, because he did not enter himself. I am angry because he cannot get out of this and, once again, a burden has been placed on my son that he should not have to bear."

Skeeter's fist was clenched tightly around her quill.

"Thirdly, I do not know how my late cousin would have handled this situation. To be honest, people have said that I'm a lot like Lily… except that Lily was gentler as a person. She would not have known what to make of your  _unique_  brand of "journalism". So, even though I wish she were here to care for Harry, I am glad I am here to stand up for him. Finally, I know James would have been proud of Harry." Mum finished calmly.

I looked at my mother proudly, smiling widely. Angelina put her hands together in a silent clap. Matteo's eyebrows raised in shock and Effi had a small smirk.

"And your other children, how do you feel about the situation? And you, Mr. Johnson?" Skeeter turned, sneering, to the three of us.

"To be honest, I feel the same as my wife," Nathaniel paused, "Harry is my son. There has never been a point where I have needed to emphasize that more. I had the same reaction to his name coming out of the Goblet as I would have Margaret's or Elena's. Harry has faced many challenges before, and I'm afraid for him, of course, but he is a capable young man of whom I am very proud. I believe in him."

Skeeter turned to me, glaring. I was so proud of both of my parents for being what Harry needed right in this moment – his parents: no ifs, ands, or buts – that I was caught by surprise.

"I believe in Harry," I stated simply. I didn't want to say anything more.

"That's all?" Skeeter asked. I nodded.

"Even though you two are reported as being more like twins than distant cousins, always spending time together, and you've been by his side for each trouble he's had to face? Are you not worried that he won't be able to face these challenges without you? Aren't you a little jealous that he is getting all the fame and glory in this endeavor, while you get pushed to the side?" Skeeter egged.

Mum opened her mouth but I held up my hand, feeling moderately confident.

"I have nothing else to say because that's what it boils down to. I believe in Harry. He could have handled everything we handled together on his own. I just helped. He is a brilliant wizard and an amazing person. He is my brother, my twin brother, for all intents and purposes. I am not jealous because, frankly, I would not want all this attention on myself as he is getting. Furthermore, with all the things he and I have _had_ to face together, I do not feel the need to be in an optional and dangerous situation. But I believe in him," I stated calmly.

Skeeter had a twisted smile and I glared slightly. I wondered how she could  _possibly_  twist those words.

"And you, Elena? The often forgotten Johnson child," Skeeter continued, smiling crookedly.

Elena looked at all of us and paused, "I think he'll be fine." She said it very meekly and quietly. Skeeter smiled wider and scribbled down many notes and then opened her mouth again when suddenly the door to the room opened. Professor Dumbledore and Mr. Ollivander entered.

"Dumbledore!" Skeeter cried in shock, "Yes, we were just…"

"Concluding an interview," Mum stated calmly, "Shall we perform the ceremony now?"

"Yes we shall Melinda," Dumbledore smiled. Behind him Professor Karkaroff and Madame Maxime had entered the room, and they joined Mum and Ludo Bagman. Rita kept out her quill and parchment, ready to take notes.

"This is Mr. Ollivander," Dumbledore introduced, "He will be checking your wands to ensure that they are in good condition before the tournament."

Mr. Ollivander nodded at everyone and state, "Signore DiSalvo, you first I believe."

Matteo went over to Mr. Ollivander and handed him his wand.

"Yes," Mr. Ollivander pondered, twirling the wand around and looking at it, shooting out a stream of water.

"Yes, thirteen inches… flexible… apple… and a core of dragon heartstring," Mr. Ollivander smiled, "Very good. It's in fine working order. Miss Johnson, if you please, come next."

I was always so confused when Angelina and I were in the same room. She came forward and handed him her wand.

"Ah yes, one of mine now," Ollivander smiled, "I remember it well indeed. Unicorn hair, eleven and a half inches, nice and supple, and English oak. It's in a good enough condition, though you should probably polish it, Miss Johnson." Angelina shrugged, smiling slightly. Ollivander conjured some small canaries from the end of the wand and handed it back to Angelina.

"Fehl Rosenthal, if you please," Ollivander nodded at Effi. She approached him calmly and handed him her wand, folding her arms across her chest.

"Yes, this is a Gregorovitch wand, not exactly my style, though he's a fine wand-maker, a fine wand-maker indeed," Ollivander paused, "Yes, I believe this is mahogany and phoenix feather, fourteen and a half inches, unyielding." He waved the wand and a stream of golden light emitted from it, "In perfect order. Finally… Mr. Potter."

Harry walked forward and handed him his wand. Ollivander looked at it pensively.

"Yes, how well I remember," Ollivander paused, spending a long time examining the wand and finally shooting out green sparks from it, "Holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple. Fine working order, Mr. Potter."

"Thank you all," Dumbledore nodded, "You may go down to dinner if you wish."

"Photos, Dumbledore, photos!" Bagman cried excitedly, "All judges and champions I think, eh Rita!"

"Yes, those first," Skeeter paused, "Then I believe a family shot, and then some individual ones."

The photographs went on for ages. Elena, Dad and I didn't need to be in all but one of them; but it was hard for them to get the lighting right in the others with Madame Maxime casting such a large shadow on everyone. The photo of our family had Harry in clear relief, and Elena was much blocked by him, which made me furious. I kept pulling her out more in front of me so she could be seen, but she went back to hide, perhaps not wanting her scars and bruises to show up at all.

As we left the room, Elena scurried away from us as fast as she could. I turned to Harry, frowning, as Dad and Mum walked up to us.

"I mean what I said, Harry," Dad paused, "I know I have been clear about drawing lines in the past, but people have to know that we support you totally and won't back down on anything when it comes to you or your safety."

"Thank you, sir," Harry nodded, looking at all three of us with tears in the corner of his eye, "Thanks,  _all_ of you."

"I'm sorry we will not be in the castle all the time, but I trust Dumbledore to look out for you," Mum sighed, "Remember, we have a family lawyer; if she tries to catch you off guard at any point, you invoke your rights. It's appalling what she's gotten away with in the newspapers despite Muggle laws. Bleedin' elitists, the lot of these purebloods," Mum scowled, "Even when they don't mean to be."

I frowned softly, remembering how none of the Weasleys really questioned the fact that the house elves were enslaved.

"We should go home," Mum paused, "Please write us every day, the both of you."

"And look out for Elena," Dad furthered, "I could not be more worried."

We nodded and they left, muttering quietly to each other. At dinner Harry sat with Hermione, Neville, George, Fred, Ginny, Ron, and me for the first time since he had started isolating himself from us. Hermione looked like she was going to cry tears of joy. Ron clapped slightly underneath the table. Ginny beamed widely and Neville, George and Fred patted him on the back.

"Welcome back mate," George nodded, wrapping an arm around my shoulder that I eagerly leaned into.

"Had us right worried for a minute there," Fred agreed.

"I was trying to protect myself," Harry paused, "I should have realized no one could protect me more than the people who care about me."

"Here here!" Neville cheered, raising his glass in the air. Everyone laughed and began eating dinner eagerly.

"Maggie," Harry paused, his mouth full of food.

"Yeah?" I responded cheerfully, turning away from George trying to get me to eat some of his pie.

"I want to be trained in non-magical combat starting tomorrow," Harry stated calmly, "I need to get ready for the tournament."

I nodded and looked around, "Does anybody know anything besides how to shoot? That's all I've got."

"I can help," Neville paused, "With the sword. I've been practicing with it."

“You have?” I asked in surprise.

“Honestly, off on on since second year,” Neville paused, “Never know when you might need a skill of some sort.”

I raised my eyebrows in surprise, “I’m impressed.”

"I learned some things from Muggle school," Hermione interjected, "I'll help as well."

"Great," Harry paused, "Meet in the empty classroom on the fourth floor tomorrow, around noon?"

"Sounds good," we all nodded and went back to eating.

And indeed, precisely at noon the next day we all assembled in the empty classroom. George and Fred and Ron did not come, as they had nothing much to offer. But I was surprised to see Ginny there.

"I know you'd want to learn archery from Maggie," Ginny paused, "She is better at it than I am. But I confess I have another skill that I can teach you."

"Really?" Harry asked eagerly, "What is it?"

"I can throw knives," Ginny explained calmly, hitching up her shirt slightly to show a row of knives along her waist in a belt. I felt my eyebrows rise into my hairline in shock.

"Why'd you learn that then?" Neville asked in surprise.

"Cause I figured I should have a more concealed weapon," Ginny paused, "I'm good at archery, but the part I'm best at is aiming; furthermore, it's pretty conspicuous to have that on me all the bloody time. And I'm not too proud to know I need to understand some non-magical combat. There's the age restriction, to begin with, but you also never know when your wand might not be enough, or could get taken away."

"And why are you so obsessed with protecting yourself?" Hermione asked in bewilderment.

"Because I've been helpless before, Hermione," Ginny had such a determined look on her face that I actually feared for my safety, "I'm not going to be so again."

A poignant silence filled the room before Ginny turned towards a target I had borrowed from Hagrid. She pulled out a knife, studied the target for the briefest of moments, before flinging the knife at the target. It whirled through the air and hit the bulls-eye dead on, lodging deep inside the target itself. I clapped happily.

"And Hermione, what did you say you learned at school?" Harry asked, turning to Hermione with an inquisitive expression.

"Well not  _school_ , exactly, but I took self-defense classes and martial arts," Hermione beamed proudly, "I have mastered Yang style Tai Chi."

"You're  _kidding,_ " we all said in unison.

"Nope," Hermione paused, "I've been careful not to use my skills until I mastered it, but I did over the summer before the Quidditch World Cup. And it'll be perfect for you, Harry, it's all about using your opponent's force against them."

"Why'd you take the classes?" I asked curiously.

"My family used to live in the East End of London," Hermione paused, "In one of the Council Estates."

"What's that?" Neville and Ginny asked in unison.

"Public housing," Hermione sighed, "We weren't very rich. We've moved since to Canada Water, a nicer neighborhood in London; but I still remember hearing horror stories about girls getting robbed or raped where I used to live. I carry a Swiss army knife at all times in the city and I can defend myself without magic."

"Seems smart," I nodded, "As always." Hermione grinned at me and shrugged. She looked proud to not be completely one-upped by Ginny in this regard. I was proud of her too.

"Brilliant," Harry beamed, "Well great, it looks like you all will be able to help me out a lot. I really appreciate it, all of you."

“Alright, let’s start with the one that you have some practice in, yeah?” I suggested, “Here’s a sword from a suit of armor. You and Neville be careful, now.”

Harry took the sword and nodded.

“I’ll go easy on you,” Neville grinned.

“This is a bizarre scenario, Nev,” Harry rolled his eyes. The two then started to fight, and it was amazingly clear that Nevill had indeed been practicing. He was visibly holding himself back from going harder on harry, neatly sparing with him and carefully explaining how to block, thrust, and rapidly study your opponent’s movements in order to know where to strike next. Harry was rapidly getting the hang of it, though he clearly wasn’t ready to fight for real with Neville yet; Neville kept critiquing him on how he held the hilt of the blade, and how his feet were positioned, and how he held his torso.

“Alright, I think it’s time for someone else,” Neville sighed after he explained to Harry to hold his body to the side for the fifteenth time, “Who’s next?”

I nodded and stepped forward, handing Ginny’s bow to Harry.

“You’ve seen me do this enough times, you should be able to follow, eh?” I asked.

“It’s not like I’ve been paying attention,” Harry groaned.

“Well, hold it like this,” and I spent the next half hour carefully instructing Harry on how to hold the bow. Ginny had gotten it much faster than he did, but eventually he was holding it correct, and positioning his body correctly. I then helped him aim, which was even more difficult – though he was good at finding tiny objects and grabbing them, he had more trouble aiming with something not directly attached to his body. Eventually, I managed to get him to hit the target, but it was slow going.

“My turn,” Ginny sighed, clearly looking impatient. I nodded and she took the bow from him, handing him some knives. She spent most of the time instructing him on how to throw a knife in general – it was very easy, I could see, to slice your hand open. While it took him longer to get the hang of proper positioning and execution than he did with the bow, he got the hang of aiming much faster, getting close to the bulls-eye already.

Finally, Hermione finished up the practice, teaching Harry the most basic moves and stances of Tai Chi. Harry got this one quickest of all, since a lot of the principles at work were similar to those of being a seeker on the Quidditch Team; still, he would need a lot of work, as he speed and quickness meant he often would rush to defend or strike too fast.

As we left the room, George came running up to me, Fred and Ron following close behind. "Look at  _this_ piece of  _rubbish_ ," George grunted, throwing a bundle of parchment into my face. I grabbed it and saw it was the  _Daily Prophet_. I groaned and looked for the article I knew he was referencing.

While anything that was a direct quote Rita Skeeter hadn't changed, the article was still frustrating. Barely any mention of the other champions was made, and she managed to weasel in some embellishment of the mannerisms of my family, driving me nuts as I practically ripped apart the page. Furthermore, she had interviewed other people on Harry that my mum  _couldn't_ protect. The article stated at one point that "Harry was clearly terrified, and unable to fathom going into such challenges without his honorable sister, Maggie", and that "If he is lying, and did indeed enter the tournament himself, it is clear he is now regretting it."

I was growling loudly and George came around to massage my shoulders as I kept reading, Harry and the others reading over my shoulder.

"Elena Johnson, the often forgotten member of the Johnson clan, has often found herself shunted aside by her powerful and praised siblings. It has never been shown better than it was during this interview, with her quietly in the corner, clearly resenting her Potter-focused family. Her lack of vehement support of Harry, as well as her different house placement from her siblings, calls clearly into question: how has this family been handling the burden Dumbledore placed on it? Have Melinda and Nathaniel Johnson simply forgotten about their youngest child, preferring instead to focus on their adopted one? Clearly some neglectful parenting has been at play here. Furthermore, Margaret "Maggie" Johnson's complete blind faith in Potter has us all wondering: what hold does he have on this family? Are they truly in their right minds about him?"

I groaned angrily and looked over at Harry, who had guilt etched plainly all over his face. Hermione was scowling furiously.

"Indeed, it seems that Melinda Johnson has not quite left the Muggle world from which she came. It is clear through her insistence on protection by Muggle laws that she wishes the entire world to function the same as she used to, and I worry about her competency in the Ministry of Magic, given that she does not seem familiar with the way the Wizarding World is run. If she cannot understand how we conduct ourselves with regards to the law, how can she possibly hope to run an entire department? Furthermore, how can she, to the best of her ability, raise three children in the Wizarding world? People questioned her removal of Harry and her other children from the public eye and the Wizarding world thirteen years ago; it appears now that her focus on the Muggle world is more serious than feared. Perhaps the rebelliousness of her eldest child can be attributed to a sheer disregard for the Wizarding world and its practices. Is that the kind of person we want representing us internationally? I doubt it."

Harry pounded the wall with his fist, looking at me with sheer sorrow and guilt on his face. I grimaced and gritted my teeth to finish the article.

"But Harry is insistent that he did not enter the tournament himself, and a good portion of the school seems to agree with him. However, other students believe that he is getting away with breaking the rules. A Slytherin student in his year, Pansy Parkinson, insists that he must have entered it himself, with the help of his sister and their close friends, Neville Longbottom and Hermione Granger, whom he is rarely seen out of the company of. 'The four of them rule the school,’ Parkinson explained, ‘It's mind-boggling. Johnson has a screw loose, and Potter is highly overrated; I think he and Granger are in a relationship, though, because they're always hanging around each other. But she is a know-it-all and doesn't know her place. Longbottom isn't worthy to hang out with any of them but I think they all pity him.' It is clear that, though Potter insists he did not enter himself, it is not beyond his character to having done so; perhaps Maggie did so for him. At any event, this tournament will be a real chance for the boy to prove himself, given all that he has accomplished during his brief time in the wizarding world. Or, perhaps, it will reveal that he is, indeed, a fraud."

I groaned and looked over at Hermione and Neville. Hermione had turned pink at the article but muttered, "That is absolutely ridiculous" under her breath.

"Don't worry Maggie," Neville rolled his eyes, "You don't think I'm used to people saying that about me since first year? It rolls off my back." Neville made a motion of water going down his back to demonstrate the seriousness of his claim.

"Well, I'll be happy to prove I'm not a fraud," Harry sneered, balling up the article tightly in his hands. We all nodded in agreement and I was seeing slight amounts of red in the corners of my eyes from pure fury with Skeeter. She would pay for this. Even though she never outright said any of this was true, or misquoted anyone, her words would be enough to sway public opinion; and my mum probably couldn't do anything about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah I call bullshit on Rita Skeeter being able to get away with so much shite in the books. It's ridiculous. But still, the muggle media has ways of getting around stuff, it's not like Skeeter wouldn't have found those ways too.


	34. Chapter Thirty - Three: November 15 - 24, 1994, Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Oh, oh, sometimes I get a good feeling, yeah 
> 
> I get a feeling that I never never never never had before, no no 
> 
> I get a good feeling, yeah 
> 
> The mountain top, walk on water 
> 
> I got power, feel so royal 
> 
> One second, I'ma strike oil 
> 
> Diamond, platinum, no more for you 
> 
> Got adrenaline, never givin' in 
> 
> Giving up's not an option, gotta get it in 
> 
> Witness I got the heart of 20 men 
> 
> No fear, go to sleep in the lion's den." 
> 
> ~ Flo Rida, "Good Feeling".

Chapter 33: November 15 – 24, 1994, Hogwarts

To say training on archery Harry wasn’t hard would be a lie. The boy really couldn’t aim for the life of him, which also made knife-throwing difficult. Ginny got so frustrated she threw a knife at the wall and it got lodged so deep we needed to get Hagrid to pull it out. Hermione was amazing with her forms, and Harry was getting the hang of it rapidly, but it was hard to teach someone martial arts in such a short time period. He could use the sword extraordinarily well, though, and he and Neville had taken to sparring for hours just so he would have _something_ decently perfected. But we kept on with the other things too, because if there wasn’t a sword in the task, then he would be completely and totally screwed.

Harry was sparring with Hermione, doing much better, but I was still impatient. We only had a few days before the task, and it was a Hogsmeade visit day and we were all going to head out together, if Hermione was ever satisfied with Harry’s work.

Hermione managed to throw Harry down to the ground, even though he had done the same fairly recently, and shouted “AGAIN.”

“Look guys, I’m sorry, I am,” Harry grunted, getting up and looking sheepish.

“Seriously Harry, you have to work harder!” Hermione groaned.

“He should just focus on tai chi, it’s unlikely there’d be a bow in the task anyway,” I shrugged, playing with the string of mine and strumming it like an instrument.

“Look I don’t want to train him while I’m angry anymore, I’ll end up hurting him,” Ginny snapped, still frustrated from the last incident.

“I’m sorry! Okay! I swear I threw it the way you told me!” Harry whined.

“No, you didn’t!” Ginny roared, practically like a lion. I looked at her in shock and turned to Neville, giving him a half scared, half impressed face. His face just contorted into a wide smirk of amusement at the proceedings.

 “This is all pointless! I’m a wizard! Wizards use magic! I’m a better dueler than the four of you combined and you know it!” Harry protested

“Yes, and when we need instruction in defense against the dark arts outside of class, we’ll come to you,” I rolled my eyes.

“Look, the task is in _three days_ , we’re running out of time!” Hermione groaned, “Harry, _you pick_ what else to focus on, we can’t do it for you. Whatever _you_ feel like you’re closest to getting down, you do.”

“Fine!” Harry shouted angrily, looking around at the three of us. He finally looked back to Hermione, a determined expression on his face, and raised his hands into the first position.

Hermione groaned, but immediately started again with Harry, working with him and trying to instruct him calmly. I could see beads of sweat on both of their foreheads. Ginny sat next to me, taking a stone and sharpening one of her knives, rolling her eyes at me in annoyance.

“And I thought _I_ had the anger issues,” I commented lightly.

“Maggie, somehow you’ve been able to channel them better, you have for almost a year,” Neville responded, sitting down next to Ginny.

“I can’t imagine why. Maybe I’m maturing,” I lied offhandedly. Ginny rolled her eyes.

“If you’re maturing, then I’m turning into a canary,” she snorted.

“Thanks,” I snapped, pursing my lips in irritation as Harry grunted with effort and Hermione instructed as patiently, slowly, and clearly as she could. He _was_ getting better, but again, the stress was impacting his work.

“I’m just saying, you’re dating George, there’s no way in hell you’re maturing,” Ginny shrugged. Neville nodded in agreement next to her.

“Ginny, does this mean that if I marry George, I will never have matured?” I looked at her with a smirk.

“No, it means somehow you got George to mature by default,” Ginny paused, “You needed to mature and you forced him to catch up. It just wouldn’t happen this soon in the relationship.”

I thought about George’s unwelcome, wandering hands.

“He’s more mature than you give him credit for, Gin,” I paused, “Trust me.”

Neville looked at me in curiosity as Ginny shrugged and returned to watching Harry and Hermione. I knew how hard that must have been for her, but I couldn’t really do anything secretive to help her without sabotaging Hermione. And I had picked a side.

Harry was knocked down on the floor again and I groaned, covering my face with my hand when suddenly a knock rang out on the door. We all looked at each other in shock and I jumped up to open the door, finding Elena’s face on the other side of it.

“Hey,” she greeted awkwardly, “Can I come in?”

I nodded wordlessly and Hermione and Harry stopped their sparring, us all looking at her expectantly. She had as many new bruises as she did old ones. It made me want to vomit and I looked away at the wall.

“Can you teach me how to defend myself Hermione?” Elena asked calmly. We all looked at her in surprise, even me.

“Yes?” Hermione responded, but she looked just as confused as the rest of us.

“I’m sorry, I should have said something to clarify,” Elena paused, “I overheard you guys talking about your practice sessions a few days ago. I’ve been working up the courage to come by. I’d also like to learn how to use a knife, Ginny.”

Ginny nodded wordlessly.

“Elena,” I opened my mouth, but she held up her hand.

“Look, you can’t protect me, okay? It would really only make things worse for me. I’ve wanted to ask for your help since the first week. I have to stand up for myself and this is me, figuring out how to do that,” Elena took a deep breath, “I can’t live like this anymore. Obviously Harry’s preparation should take precedent because of the task; but I’m begging you guys for help.”

“Definitely,” Neville reassured, looking at Elena kindly. I knew he, more than all the rest of us, understood what she was going through.

“Alright, well I can teach you for now,” Ginny stood up, guiding Elena over to the target.

Harry looked at Neville and me sitting bored together by the wall, and frowned as Hermione took a giant glass of water.

“If you guys want to go you can go,” Harry paused, “I shouldn’t make you waste your whole Saturday watching me look ridiculous.”

“Thanks Harry,” I nodded, clapping him on the shoulder, “Good luck.”

Harry smiled weakly and I left eagerly, breathing in the air of the corridor like it was the freshest air I had ever tasted.

Neville walked with me through the halls as we headed out to Hogsmeade, but right before we reached the entranceway he pulled me aside.

“Can you _please_ talk to me Maggie?” he asked calmly, looking at me rather intensely.

“What do you want me to talk to you about, Neville? I want to get to Hogsmeade before it gets dark,” I whined, rolling my eyes. Neville was fairly close to me and my heart was doing some sort of weird fast-beating thing that made me uncomfortable.

“Look, something’s not right, you’re nervous about something,” Neville insisted.

 _Yeah, you_ , I thought wryly, biting the inside of my cheek to keep myself from saying so.

“There’s something wrong between you and George and I don’t think you’re telling anyone about it. Hermione doesn’t know, Harry doesn’t know, no one knows; and I don’t want him to be hurting you or anything bad happening that you just aren’t telling us about, okay?” Neville finished.

I felt my eyes widen but then I felt them narrow in anger.

“Look here Neville,” I snapped angrily, “That’s nobody’s business but my own, how things are between George and me. If I don’t want to tell people that’s my prerogative. As it is there is nothing bad going on between us. George is the perfect gentleman and I have no complaints.”

I hated lying to Neville, but he was overstepping his boundaries. Or at least, that’s how I justified it to myself.

Neville looked hurt, and I instantaneously felt bad. He was only trying to look out for me. But I didn’t want him, or anyone else, trying to poke around in my relationship. He backed away and walked in the opposite direction, and I felt the guilt raise up from my stomach and envelope my entire body.

“Neville, wait,” I sighed, accepting defeat. I didn’t get to do that to him. I couldn’t handle how much I had hurt him.

He made a motion as to keep walking, but I could see his shoulders fall with a sigh and he turned around. He looked at me, pain reflecting back at me as clear as day.

“I’m sorry,” I stated, swallowing and forcing myself to continue, “That was rude.”

“Yes it was,” Neville paused, taking a few steps back down the stairs.

“Look I just… I’m trying to figure it out on my own, okay?” I sighed, “I really don’t want to bring anyone else into it.”

Neville frowned, sitting down on the steps, and I walked up to sit next to him. I sat very close to him and patted him softly on the knee. Neville stared at my hand and then back at my face with an expression that I couldn’t quite understand.

“What’s going on, Maggie,” Neville paused, “I thought we were best friends. I just don’t want you to be in trouble.”

“I’m not,” I sighed, “I’m really not. And we _are_ best friends…”

“Then you have to understand that, since you tell me everything unless it’s super-serious, I have to assume this is super serious… and worry about you,” Neville reached over to my shoulder and gently squeezed it. I swallowed with nervousness and nodded, leaning back against the stairs.

“I’ve been made especially aware of the age gap between me and George,” I sighed, looking over at Neville sadly.

“Oh?” Neville looked even more concerned now, “What do you mean exactly?”

“He’s just… he’s sixteen, right? Nearly seventeen and I _just_ turned fifteen,” I paused, “He’s been… moving forward…” I awkwardly grimaced and swallowed, “Physically. Or trying to.”

Neville’s eyes narrowed with anger akin to a lion, something I had actually never really seen before, “He hasn’t pressured you into anything has he?”

“No, no… ”I paused, “He’s respected my boundaries just fine. He just… wants to move faster than I’m comfortable with and it’s making me nervous. I’m worried he will pressure me, or break up with me, or just forget how young I am…”

Neville let out a very deep sigh, running his fingers through his hair, “I honestly have no idea what to tell you. I’ve never been in a relationship, as you know.”

I nodded, pursing my lips together. I _had_ hoped he would have some sort of answer, as immature as that might have been.

“But I do know this,” Neville paused, taking a deep breath, “You do not have to be with him. If this makes you uncomfortable, you should get out.”

I swallowed, “But I care about him.”

“Yes, and if he cared about you, he would respect your wishes,” Neville shrugged, “And you don’t deserve to be with someone who doesn’t care about you as much as you care about them. There are millions of guys out there, all of whom you can learn to care about, if you don’t already.”

I looked at him for a minute, noting the earnest expression in his face. His hair had gotten extremely long, down to his neck, with wide bangs covering his right eye. He was constantly moving the bangs out of his eye so that he could actually see. His hair even curled slightly now that it was longer. He looked so much older than the first day I had met him on the train so many years ago. He still had scars on his face, tiny almost unnoticeable ones, from when Sirius dragged us into the Shrieking Shack the year before. He still had an unfortunate gap between his teeth but it wasn’t really that bad at all.

“You’ve grown up a lot, Neville,” I commented lightly. Neville burst out laughing, his face coloring slightly pink.

“No I mean it, you’re so different than the guy who could barely talk to anyone first year,” I smiled.

“Thanks Maggie,” Neville paused, “And you know, you don’t have to end up with anyone, either. It’s 1994. Don’t let societal expectations of gender performance get you down.”

I laughed out loud, “You’re right. I’m going to stick with George for now, because he hasn’t done anything, but I’ll remember what you said.”

“That’s all I ask,” Neville beamed, “Now let’s go to Hogsmeade before aforementioned George gets worried.”

We got up and went together to Hogsmeade, and sure enough I found George waiting outside of Zonko’s waiting for me. I walked up to George, waving goodbye to Neville, and lightly kissed him.

“Hey firecracker,” George smiled, “Where’ve you been?”

“Helping out Harry. He decided to focus on only knife-throwing and tai chi so we got to escape,” I paused, feeling nervous, “That’s why I was with Neville.”

George looked at me in puzzlement, “Well yeah, course you were. Neville’s one of your best mates.”

I swallowed and laughed nervously, “Right, right. Shall we?”

“We shall,” he beamed at me, holding my hand and taking me to the three broomsticks. As always, I was limited to one solitary butterbeer, but I enjoyed the atmosphere of the place. Everyone was milling about and chatting, cheerful and unaware of any larger problems in the world. It allowed me to ignore my own, if only for a moment. I held hands with George and enjoyed how he rubbed his thumb against the top of my hand and gently leaned over to kiss the side of my head.

A series of fake vomiting sounds awoke me from my delirious state of happiness and I turned to see Fred gagging at us. I stuck my tongue out at him and he sat down next to George, a cup of something that seemed to be flaming in his hand.

“Yo, Johnson, you seen Granger anywhere?” he asked, clearly drunk. George rolled his eyes and took the goblet from him, taking a sip.

 “How’d you manage to swing some Firewhiskey?” George asked, handing him the glass.

“Angelina Johnson got completely smashed at the Hog’s Head,” Fred paused, “And invited me and Lee. Sorry you couldn’t come.”

“That’s my fault,” I apologized, feeling sheepish.

“Yeaaaaah what took ya s-so long?” Fred hiccupped, “Is... s’Granger still tusslin’ with Potter?”

His slurred speech made me laugh and I rolled my eyes, “Yeah she is, sorry mate.”

“Eh,” Fred shrugged his shoulders sluggishly, “She should… make other friends. Potters clearly not into her.”

I raised my eyebrows, “Are you suggesting she be friends with you?”

“Naaaaaaah,” Fred took a swig of whiskey, “I mean… _maaaaybe_. Angelina might’ve asked me out and I _might_ have said no, I suppose.”

“You’re kidding,” I smirked, looking over at George. _Why would anyone say no to that gorgeous person?_ He was rolling his eyes and took the goblet away from Fred.

“Okay, when you start actually talking about your personal life, you’ve had enough,” George walked with the goblet over to the bar and handed it to Ron, who happened to be talking to Dean and Seamus as always. I smirked and rolled my eyes at him as he came back and sat on the side next to me, wrapping his arm around my shoulder.

“You sure that’s smart?” I asked, chuckling softly.

“Eh,” George shrugged, “It’s not my job to make his decisions, and I don’t feel like getting drunk right now.”

“Awwww you’ve turned intos _such_ a wanker,” Fred rolled his eyes.

“Look, Maggie can’t get drunk, it’s not fair on her,” George insisted. I beamed at him and rewarded him with a kiss.

“ _Eugh_ ,” Fred fake gagged, “Geta _room.”_

“And why would we do that when we can gross you out right here?” I teased

“Ugh,” Fred repeated, “Though Is-suppose… it would be nice to have that meself.”

George was looking at him in amazement and I was just laughing uncontrollably.

“You’ve never expressed interest in females before,” George paused.

I felt my mouth drop open, “ _You’re gay_?!”

“I am not gay,” Fred paused, then leaned over and hissed softly, “I’m bisexual. But that’s not the point. I really haven’t dated anyone before.”

“But he had a _huge thing_ for…” George paused.

“Eh! Eh eh! George I told you that in _cooonfidence_ ,” Fred wagged his finger.

“You’re drunk, you’ll blurt it out yourself in about five seconds,” George rolled his eyes.

“No I will not!” Fred insisted.

But I was unable to really respond to the conversation. My mouth was hanging open in complete and utter shock.

“What is it, Maggie?” George asked worriedly, “We know you know about… about Ron,” he whispered quietly, “We figured you’d be cool with it!”

“It’s not _that_ ,” I paused, managing to close my jaw, “But _bisexuality really is a valid sexual orientation_?”

“Course,” Fred frowned at me, “Why didn’t you think it was?”

“When – I mean – I lived in Chicago a little bit when I was younger, with my grandparents, while my Mum was on assignment – lots of interesting people in Chicago, you know – overheard this bloke, saying bisexuals were all liars – bisexual girls wanted attention and bisexual guys were afraid of being gay – so I believed him!” I gasped.

“Nope, bisexuality is a real thing. Unless the past three years of Fred’s life have been a weird sort of phase,” George reassured.

“We’re _eeeeeeverywhere_ ,” Fred grinned.

“Don’t you see?” I gasped in amazement. I was so amazed and relieved to hear this that I didn’t even think whether or not it was appropriate to declare this.

George and Fred looked at me curiously, waiting for my next sentence. I felt my breath catch in my throat as I made the motion to say it. I felt my hands clam up, but I knew I had to say it.

“ _I’m not a freak_!” I finally got out.

George raised his eyebrows.

“I have fancied people of all genders since… since forever!” I whispered softly, looking at them both eagerly, “We’re talking major attraction! I just – I thought it wasn’t a thing – so I figured, ‘I guess I’m just weird,’ and I ignored it!”

Fred was grinning widely. George looked shocked, but was also smiling, much to my joy.

“You’re _kidding_ ,” George laughed.

“Not at all! I’d say the person I find most attractive after you is Angelina Johnson!” I hissed.

“You’re **_kiddin_** ,” Fred gasped, banging the table with his palm, “This is _hysterical!_.”

“Why would you turn her down? Are you mad?!” I laughed.

“Don’t change the focus! There is a much bigger revelation at hand here!” George chortled.

“I’m so happy right now, oh my god, Fred how can I _repay_ you for this?” I gasped.

“You must forever worship me as your bisexual godfather,” Fred joked, still fairly drunk.

“It’s like the entire world has opened up before my eyes,” I whispered in amazement.

“Should I be worried?” George half-joked.

“No, no,” I shook my head, “I’m not going to break up with you just because I realized my sexual orientation was valid. We’re good. I might start pointing out hot people to you though.”

“This is completely acceptable,” George grinned eagerly.

“Isn’t it annoying, how many hot people there are?” Fred shook his head.

“It’s the _worst_!” I agreed eagerly.

“Like, how ‘m I supposed t’ focus on anything?” Fred rolled his eyes.

“It’s practically illegal!” I was giggling madly.

“And how was I supposed to choose a gender? Male or female? I mean seriously,” I groaned.

“Don’t get me _started_ on nonbinary people!” Fred added.

“Nonbinary people?” I asked in confusion.

“People who identify as neither male nor female,” George explained.

“ _Really_?” I said in surprise, “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised – I mean I accept that gender is a totally societally formed concept.”

“Course it is,” Fred nodded, “Nonbinary people are also wonderful.”

“Wow,” I breathed, “This is just a pile of new information.”

“Welcome to the land of the Queers,” Fred raised an invisible glass in a toast. I laughed.

“This is great. It’s like the whole world has said to me that I’m okay,” I felt something weird in the back of my eyes. Tears? That was not normal for this sort of situation. George rubbed my shoulder comfortingly.

“How many nonbinary genders are there?” I asked eagerly.

“Infinite, in theory,” Fred paused, “There’s agender, genderfluid, bigender, trigender…”

“Wow,” I whispered again.

“I’m glad you’re happy,” George grinned at me. I kissed him passionately, causing Fred to gag again. George looked positively dazed when I pulled back and grinned cheekily at Fred.

“So who did you like, then?” I asked joyfully as George just sat there with his mouth open in a daze.

“Oliiiver Wood,” Fred answered calmly. I smirked at him and he slapped himself on the forehead.

“Bullocks, I screwed myself over with that one,” Fred paused, “Ah well.”

“So you like the athletic type,” I laughed, folding my arms across my chest.

“In _guys_ ,” Fred paused, “In girls I prefer more… petite.”

“So, Hermione,” I wiggled my eyebrows. Fred groaned and placed his hands over his hands.

“You’ve neglected to tell me about this little crush Freddie,” George smirked, finally coming to his senses after my kiss. Fred rolled his eyes in annoyance.

“Look I didn’t want to say anyfin until I was sure,” Fred paused, “But yeah, I have a thin’ for ‘Mione.”

I smirked and waggled my eyebrows again. Fred flicked a napkin at my face and I laughed out loud. George rolled his eyes and got up to the bar and bought a glass of water, handing it to Fred.

“You need to sober up. You never admit things when you are sober,” George shook his head in disbelief.

Fred took a large gulp of water, “Naaah, I don’t do I?”

“So what’cha going to do?” I asked teasingly.

“I dunno,” Fred shrugged, “She’s all hung up on Potter, ‘sn’t she?”

“Well there’s that,” George rolled his eyes, “But let’s face it, Potter is a dunderhead.”

“I’m going to pursue Hermione Granger,” Fred declared drunkenly, a determined facial expression painting his head.

“That’s going to come back to masticate you in the gluteals,” I commented lightly, smirking at him. And it would. Hermione didn’t find people attractive all that frequently.

“Shove off,” Fred slurred in response, “It will not.”

“Alright,” George rolled his eyes, “Good luck with that. In the meantime, Maggie and I will be going now.”

I waved cheerfully and walked out with George, way too entertained by the whole of the proceedings to really be concerned. I literally felt freer than I had in my entire life at the realization that I wasn’t just weird. I was filled with such joy as I spent the day with George, going to Zonko’s and running up to the Shrieking Shack. It was such a blissful day that I almost forgot everything going on in the outside world.

That evening, I brought Harry, Hermione, and Neville with me to a small corner of the Common Room. Harry looked stressed because of the task. Neville looked confused, and Hermione looked curious. Ginny walked by as well and I grabbed her, sitting her down with the others.

“What’s up, Maggie?” she laughed, looking at everyone in confusion.

“I have an announcement,” I declared proudly, bouncing on my feet.

“What?” Neville laughed.

“I’m bisexual,” I decared proudly, again. Everyone looked at me in confusion.

“Really?” Harry asked in surprise.

“I had no idea,” Neville frowned.

“I literally never got the impression,” Hermione nodded in agreement.

“Well because I didn’t think it was a thing,” I explained calmly, “So I was like, oh I’m attracted to girls too? Better not tell anyone, that’s really weird.”

“Well that does make sense,” Ginny agreed.

“But today I was talking to Fred and George and, well, they explained to me that it was a valid thing,” I finished eagerly, “They also told me about nonbinary genders, which was awesome.”

“Nonbinary genders?” Harry asked, looking dazed.

“Means you don’t identify with male or female,” I explained, “Gender is a societal construct, Harry.”

“Well that’s true,” Hermione nodded in agreement, “I guess it stands to reason you could identify with neither.”

“Like, you can have no gender, and be agender. Or identify as one one day and another the other day, and be genderfluid. _Or_ identify as two all the time, and be bigender. I mean, I don’t think I’m any of those things, but it’s like, how did I not know about any of this!” I grinned.

“This is sort of amazing,” Neville agreed.

“Well we’re glad that you trusted us enough to tell us about this,” Hermione smiled.

“Of course! I love you guys,” I beamed, “And I wanted you to know this as soon as I could tell you.”

“We don’t think of you any differently, of course,” Ginny laughed.

“Frankly, I’m glad to see you this happy,” Harry grinned.

“It’s _revelating_!” I assured.

“We can tell,” Neville chortled. I did a little dance around the room and as we all continued to discuss these topics well into the night, it was almost as if I could forget that anything terrible was about to happen.

But, inevitably, the first task did come. That morning we were all up early in the practice room, watching Harry as he prepared for the task. None of us had any idea of what was coming, what he would have to face. Fred, George, and Ron joined us for this particular morning’s session, watching with fascination as Harry sparred with Hermione. I burst into applause and Elena actually clapped briefly, a weak smile on her scarred face, as Harry managed to elegantly block and dodge her attacks and even flipped her onto her back at one point. Harry actually managed to win, making me relieved beyond belief.

After that, he then fought with Neville, crossing blades in a clang of metal that actually made my ears hurt a little. In this fight Harry was even more evenly matched with Neville, the two of them dancing across the floor of the classroom. I grew dizzy watching their feet moving so deftly as they blocked each other’s attacks, or went on the offensive. Both were amazingly sweaty, gleaming with the effort. Ginny and Hermione both had identical expressions of appreciation on their faces that made me smirk. But I found myself blushing whenever I looked at Neville, so I quickly focused my attention on, well, anything else.

Finally, Harry practiced with the knives and Ginny, entering into a shootout with her. At this point Elena’s friend Claire walked in, watching the proceedings appreciatively. She was a tiny thing, easily dwarfed by everyone else in the room, even Elena. But somehow she overshadowed all the rest of us as she stood protectively by Elena.

Harry was still subpar with the knives, but he could probably cause some real damage with them nonetheless, hitting the target each time, though not the bulls-eye. I felt significantly happier about his chances than I had even this time last week, my entire body relaxing underneath George’s arm.

“Well,” Fred stated, looking impressed as Harry stood back, wiping the sweat off his brow, “You should probably eat up and relax before the even then.”

“Can’t get any more prepared than that,” George agreed.

“I really appreciate all the help you guys gave me,” Harry paused, looking at us all earnestly.

“No problem Harry,” Neville smiled weakly, still exhausted from his fight.

“I have to admit, that was an impressive show, Potter,” Claire remarked calmly. I had never heard her speak before. She had a fairly thick Irish accent that surprised me.

“Thanks, Dewar,” Harry responded, before frowning, “And thanks for watching my sister.”

Elena flushed rapidly, her face matching the color of her hair.

 “No problem,” Claire paused, “Not like there was really another option.” I scowled in frustration at the truth of her words.

Harry left us all fairly soon after breakfast to go to the Champions’ tent, and the rest of us headed down to the arena they had set up. It reminded me of a coliseum, but a rather fragile and wooden one. I sat between George and Neville, feeling very awkward as a result. Ginny sat on Neville’s other side, and somehow Fred and Hermione were sitting next to each other. I thought nothing of it, too focused on the scene down below. It was a large, dead-looking field, with plenty of trees and a large stream. From our vantage point we could see every inch. In the middle of the field various Muggleweapons were sitting on a rock – a sword, an axe, and a bow and arrow set. I breathed with relief that the sword was there. Elena and Claire were sitting far away from us, but I was glad that no other Slytherins surrounded them.

“How was Potter this morning, Johnson? Did he eat a lot? Wouldn’t want whatever’s going to eat him to be disappointed,” the snobbish voice of Draco Malfoy rang out behind me. I turned around and glared at him in annoyance.

“Nah, he has plans to fling you into its maw,” I snapped angrily.

“Ha! I’d like to see him try,” Malfoy smirked.

“Why don’t you leave us alone, Malfoy,” Neville commented offhandedly. I looked at him in shock – well, we _all_ looked at him in shock.

“Don’t talk to me that way, Longbottom,” Malfoy snarled.

“I’ll give you the amount of respect you deserve,” he said stonily, turning to glare at Malfoy with an expression I had never before seen on his face.

Malfoy snorted, “Like you could be the judge of anything like that.”

“Get lost Malfoy,” Ginny snapped.

“A _Weasley_ telling me what to do is even worse than _Longbottom_ ,” Malfoy snarled.

“How about a fellow Slytherin?”

I looked around in shock to see Claire _and_ Elena standing there. Elena looked absolutely terrified but Claire looked confident and proud, glaring at Malfoy with an expression of loathing I had never before seen.

“I’m a pureblood, I’m a Slytherin, and I don’t talk to Potter,” Claire paused, frowning at Malfoy, “Now leave them alone.”

“Traitor,” Malfoy sneered in response.

“Can’t betray what you were never a part of,” Claire practically sang, before spitting on Malfoy in contempt. I felt my mouth drop open in shock and Elena looked even more terrified.

“I wouldn’t be so cocky if I were you,” Malfoy snarled.

“Same to you, now run along,” Claire rolled her eyes, but she was very clearly holding her wand. She was only a first year, and yet Malfoy seemed scared of her, walking away to where the other Slytherins were sitting. Claire then nodded at us all and, without another word, took Elena’s hand and led her back to where they had been sitting previously.

“Well that was interesting,” Fred commented lightly.

“I’m a bit less concerned about Elena’s safety with a friend like that,” I frowned appreciatively.

“I do hope the task will start soon,” Hermione paused, “That whole exchange made me feel uneasy.”

“Well I think I just saw Ludo Bagman go up into the commentator’s box,” Neville pointed to a more prominent seating position, where the teachers and other official adults were seated. My parents were there too, both looking on edge. Ludo Bagman, who had just walked in, was bouncing with excitement, the largest grin I had ever seen on a face dawning his mug. He pressed his wand to his larynx and suddenly his voice boomed out over the stadium.

“Welcome! Welcome to the first task of the Triwizard Tournament!” Bagman declared, far too cheerful for the event. I groaned, gripping the back of the seat in front of me. George reached over to gently massage my shoulders, making me breathe easier.

“Today, your four champions will each have to face a monster without the ability to use their wand. This task will test each champion’s ability to think on their feet, and utilize the resources available to them. Each monster was handpicked by those who personally knew the champions to represent their own personal dreads and fears, much like a boggart; except, since they can’t use magic, obviously it is not actually a boggart!” Bagman chuckled. I rolled my eyes and grimaced at Hermione, who was frowning.

“What did they get for Harry, then?” Hermione pursed her lips.

“Relax,” Fred soothed. I looked at him critically as he continued, “It can’t be _too_ dangerous if they can fight the thing without magic.”

“You _do_ realize that predatory dinosaurs were non-magical creatures, yeah?” I rolled my eyes.

“And extinct,” Hermione snorted.

“Just sayin, there are scary non-magical animals even today that Muggles have to deal with, so I wouldn’t write it off Fred,” I looked at him earnestly.

“Fair enough,” Fred shrugged.

“Our first champion tonight will be Beauxbatons’ own Matteo DiSalvo!” Bagman continued, “He will be facing a Kamipa, a large ape creature from the Northwestern Congo lowland forests, unknown to Muggles but not particularly magical itself,” Bagman introduced as a giant, ten foot tall ape creature was led out into the middle of the arena, stomping its large fists and roaring to reveal a mouth of exceptionally sharp teeth.

“This animal is an herbivore, but do not let that fool you! It is highly territorial and aggressive. Mr. DiSalvo must procure from it a scroll tied to its ankle, which contains the clue for the next task.”

At that moment, Matteo walked out into the arena. He didn’t look as confident now, dressed in something more akin to Quidditch robes than anything else, crouching and then sprinting to the weapons. He picked the axe, spinning it around deftly in his hand.

“Apes have always been a classic symbol of loss of individuality and pretending to be someone you are not,” Hermione hissed softly to the rest of us, “At least in western mythos. It’s also a symbol of malice and ugliness.”

“So pretty boy is afraid of being ugly,” George rolled his eyes.

“Or he’s afraid of being someone he’s not,” I countered, smirking.

“I’m going with the ugly one,” Fred chuckled.

I turned my attention back to the fight. Matteo was swinging around the axe, clearly able with it, probably having practiced. The ape was giant and terrifying, leering over Matteo and swatting at him with his giant hands. There were a lot of near misses as his hair was swatted at, but somehow Matteo managed to flip his hair back into place.

 _Yeah, he’s afraid of being ugly_ , I thought calmly.

Bagman meanwhile was commentating on the action in his usual charismatic manner, describing each blow and dodge with overexcitement and vigor. Matteo skipped around like a dancer, dodging the swipes and swinging the axe into the flesh of the beast. Each hit made me cringe as the poor animal cried out in pain.

“Oh I hope he doesn’t kill it,” Ginny lamented.

“How else is he going to get the scroll?” Ron scoffed.

“You’re as big of an ape as that thing,” I rolled my eyes, “He just has to get the ape to let its guard down for at least a few seconds.”

“I’m telling you, he’s going to kill it,” Ron countered.

Another axe swing caused my attentions to be diverted to the squeal of the animal, and the gasps of the crowd indicated how bad it was. The animal fought back, however, knocking Matteo full to the ground. Everyone oohed with surprise and I even heard some female members of the audience scream. But he quickly got back up to his feet and stumbled around the ape, only barely missing the swipes and lunges from the animal now. The ape stomped around the arena, practically making it shake as Matteo stumbled away from it, clearly in pain.

“Well, our first casualty ladies and gents,” George snorted.

“Give him a minute,” Fred rolled his eyes.

The ape left a trail of blood behind him as he chased Matteo, at one point even reaching and grabbing him, wrapping his hand around Matteo’s waist. As he lifted Matteo up in the air, he flung around and kicked and swung his axe deep into the ape’s arm. The ape dropped him, screaming in pain, as Matteo finally dodged and managed to grab the scroll from the ape’s ankle, ducking away and panting in exhaustion.

“He’s done it! Mr. DiSalvo has done it!” Bagman shouted eagerly as everyone, including me, cheered. The ape was led away back into a pen, a team of what I could only assume were wizard and witch veterinarians sedating the animal and tending to its wounds. Matteo was lead off into a tent, probably for the same reason.

“Well that was a close one folks! And now we wait for him to return to receive his score, each judge giving him a mark out of ten,” Bagman explained. It was only a bit before he stumbled back out, still clearly needing medical attention. Each of the judges waved their wand and created a number out of a long silver ribbon. Madame Maxime gave him an eight, which surprised me, as he was her champion. My mum gave him a seven, Dumbledore gave him an eight, Bagman gave him a six, and Karkaroff gave him a three. The last two seemed remarkably unfair, but Matteo looked pleased, going back into the tent.

“Next up we have Hogwarts’ first champion, Angelina Johnson! She will be facing a Mega Fire crab, native the Naga Manipuri Chin Hills Moist Forests in India, a close relative of the regular sized fire crabs of Fiji. More like a turtle than a crab, this animal can shoot fire from its rear end,” Bagman introduced as the large, turtle like animal was lead outside. It was the size of a rhino, and looked angry, already shooting a giant ball of fire out of its ass and towards the handlers, who scattered out of the way. A handler took the axe just used by Matteo and replaced it with a spear.

“Oh no, I hope she doesn’t pick the sword,” I grimaced.

Angelina came out then, looking terrified. Luckily, she picked up the bow and arrow set, though she didn’t look like she knew how to use it well. I reached and clenched George’s hand tightly in my own, squeezing for dear life.

“So turtles in western mythos symbolize a fear of facing reality,” Hermione paused, “But crabs symbolize a negative situation.”

“I think it’s a combo,” Fred paused, “She’s terrified of this tournament, when Harry was chosen she realized she made a mistake.”

“A true Gryffindor faces their fears head on,” I paused, “I’ve never been more impressed.”

Angelina notched and arrow and, while the crab’s back was turned, managed to shoot it directly into the thing’s butthole. The crab screamed out loud, and tried to shoot fire out of its ass, and found itself unable to without being in so much pain that it would scream. Angelina deftly ducked around, skipping away from the pincers of the thing, scurrying into the forest.

“What is she doing? She can just grab it off the thing’s pincer,” George frowned.

“The thing is going to poop out the arrow eventually, she’s distracting it from that,” Ginny explained.

Angelina led the crab on a merry chase, skirting around the edge of the arena like she would skirt around her opponent players in Quidditch, clearly not getting out of breath at all as she ran laps. The crab, however, was getting exhausted, ever slowing down as it lumbered after Angelina. Meanwhile, the rest of us were cheering for her at the top of our lungs, screaming “COME ON ANGELINA”

It took a long time for the crab to tire out, but Angelina was still going strong. Our cheers turned to happy ones as she merrily jogged around the field, waving at us happily. Ginny, Hermione and I were even bouncing up and down with excitement. Finally, the crab collapsed, falling with exhaustion on the ground. Angelina jogged back to the crab and took the scroll off its pincer, holding it up with excitement.

“And she’s done it! Excellent! Going to be hard to rehabilitate the crab though,” Bagman commented lightly as Angelina went to the medi-tent, though I didn’t know how much healing she really needed. Everyone in my section of the stands high fived each other happily, cheering and jumping up and down with excitement. I turned and hugged everyone around me, before gripping George’s forearms with mine and hopping happily with him.

“Brilliant!” Ron cheered.

“And now, her scores!” Bagman continued.

Madame Maxime also gave her an eight, probably marking off for time. My mum gave her a nine, and Dumbledore also gave her a nine. Bagman only gave her a five, and Karkaroff gave her a four.

“Wait _what? A FOUR?_ ” Ron roared at the top of his lungs, “That’s _BULLOCKS_.”

“He’s clearly favoring his own champion, I bet they’ll yell at him for that,” I rolled my eyes.

Eventually the stands calmed down. The handlers were bringing out the next monster, and a collective gasp went up all around us. I recognized the creature well. It was an acromantula. Ron actually screamed, hiding it behind his mouth. I shivered violently and George wrapped a protective arm around my shoulder.

“Jesus,” Neville whispered.

“And after that triumphant show, our next champion is Effi Rosenthal, facing the legendary Acromantula. This giant spider is native to the Island of Borneo, in Southeast Asia, and is a surprisingly sentient and intelligent beast, though bloodthirsty. There are even rumors of a colony right here in Scotland!” Bagman explained as the handlers sprinted away from the spider. I rolled my eyes and smirked at Fred and George, who both scowled.

“Spiders have always symbolized traps, falling into them, such as an evil individual tricking someone or falling into a bad habit,” Hermione hissed under her breath.

“Wonderful,” I rolled my eyes. Effi walked out, looking proud and confident as always. She grabbed the spear, much to my relief. The bow and arrows had been replaced with a mace. A spear, I suppose, was the smartest tool available to use against the monster.

Effi twirled the spear in her hand and ran into the forest.

“She’s making the thing chase her, too?” Ron snorted, “Repetitive.”

But she had disappeared into the forest, the spider following her and also not coming out.

“It appears Miss Rosenthal has climbed a tree! The spider cannot reach her from there!” Bagman commentated, “She appears to be waiting the spider out.”

“Great,” George rolled his eyes, “That’s boring.”

“It’s smart,” Hermione countered.

“I agree with ‘Mione,” Fred stated cheerfully.

I couldn’t believe that Neville’s little nickname was catching on.

“What do you think, Mags?” Neville asked me calmly. George’s face contorted into a slight glare, which confused me immensely.

“I think she’s being smart, but it doesn’t lend itself to good entertainment value,” I shrugged.

“I agree,” Neville smiled slightly, turning back and chatting with Ginny. I was annoyed that I was being ignored, but I turned to George and smiled at him. George was still frowning but soon smiled back at me, giving me a small kiss.

“Ugh, keep that out of the stands,” Fred rolled his eyes.

“Shove off,” I smirked, as suddenly a collective gasp went up in the audience. The spider walked out of the forest, still alive, but the spear sticking out of its back. Effi ran out from the other side, her face scratched and bloody, and sprinted to the weapons before the spider could reach them. She grabbed the mace and swung it around, the heavy ball bouncing up and down threateningly. She swung it around angrily and flinging it threateningly in the spider’s direction. The spider hissed and clicked its pincers in response.

“Look,” she said, loud enough for the entire stadium to hear, her thick German accent revealing how out of breath she was, “You do not want to get hurt any more, you want to go home, yeah?”

The spider clicked its pincers angrily.

“I know you understand me and I know you know you want to live,” Effi pleaded.

“Would not expect her to try and reason with it,” Ginny frowned.

“I suppose that’s why this particular spider was picked, she probably can’t beat it without trying to reason with it,” Hermione commented.

“I need to get that scroll and I’d rather not die. And you won’t die either. Wouldn’t you rather we both live? I did not ask for them to capture you,” Effi continued, “I am sorry that they did.”

The spider clicked menacingly for a few moments, scurrying around Effi. But eventually it moved one of its spindly legs to the scroll tied to another leg and threw it at Effi, hissing angrily. Effi grabbed the scroll and backed away quickly as the handlers came out, grabbing the spider and sedating him.

“Bring it back home to its family!” Effi shouted as she was dragged into the medical tent.

“Well that was certainly an interesting and unorthodox performance!” Bagman shouted over the cheers of the Durmstrang student, “Very fascinating indeed. And here come the scores.”

Effi came back out of her tent the quickest, looking coldly at the judges. Madame Maxime, probably to counteract the unfair Karkaroff, gave her a five. Mum gave her an eight, Dumbledore gave her a nine, Bagman gave her a four (which caused boos from all corners of the stadium,) and Karkaroff gave her a ten (which also caused boos.)

“Our last, but certainly not least, champion is Harry Potter. He will be facing a Runespoor, a seven foot long three headed snake from the Burkina Faso in Africa,” Bagman transitioned.

The snake was lead outside at that moment, all three heads menacingly rearing and hissing at everyone menacingly. It had large, terrifying fangs. Luckily, unlike the basilisk, you could look into its piercing yellow eyes without, you know, dying. The mace was replaced with throwing knives, and the spear was replaced with a whip.

Harry came out, looking even more nervous than Angelina had. We all started screaming in support from our section, my lungs going hoarse as I was shouting both to encourage him and to release my own fears and worries. Harry waved at us all meekly before running to grab the sword, swinging it deftly as the snake hissed loudly and charged at him. Two of the three heads lunged and Harry dodged it gracefully, skipping around the rock where the weapons were and dashing around the stadium. The snake followed him angrily, hissing and spitting madly, lunging whenever it got close and missing as Harry ran away from the heads and spun away.

“He’s using tai chi!” Hermione shouted proudly, but it was lost amongst the many shouts of all of us encouraging Harry. I was still screaming at the top of my lungs, my head feeling lightheaded from lack of oxygen actually getting to my brain.

Harry ran around the arena, hiding behind boulders and dodging around branches and trees. Each time a snakehead almost hit him the crowd gasped, but he always managed to roll away. I was gripping George’s hand as tightly as I can, my nails digging into his skin as Harry kept narrowly avoiding the snake. At one point the snake actually managed to trip him with its tail, turning on him with a large hiss, all three heads rearing. At that moment Harry swung the sword and managed to cut off one of the heads. The snake roared, gushing blood everywhere, falling back against the ground. Harry lunged and grabbed the scroll from the tail of the snake, holding it above his head and dodging away from the spitting snake.

“I can’t believe it! I can’t believe it! Our youngest champion, Mr. Potter, is the quickest to get his scroll!” Bagman shouted over the extreme cheering of the crowd. I was so hoarse already but I screamed as loudly as I can, turning to my friends and squeezing each of them as tightly as I possibly could. I even turned and ran to where Elena had been sitting only to find that she had already run over to me, tackling me to the ground in excitement.

“Let’s go find Mum!” Elena cheered, pulling me up from the ground, looking happier than I had seen her in a very long time. I laughed and eagerly followed Elena into the commentator’s box, where my parents both hugged us and we all headed down to the champion’s tent together.

Harry was there, getting his cuts bandaged up, and I literally threw myself on him. Harry laughed appreciatively and I found tears coming to my eyes. I, embarrassed, wiped them away.

“I’m so proud of you,” Mum said happily as Dad patted Harry on the shoulder.

“Thanks guys,” Harry smiled at us all, looking so relieved to be done.

“I have to get back up there, I have to give out the scores!” Mum suddenly realized, gasping and sprinting back up to the box. I giggled behind my hand as Elena hugged Harry round the middle.

“I’m sorry guys,” Elena said softly. I raised my eyebrows in surprise, as did Harry, as Dad started talking to Madam Pomfrey.

“Really?” I asked in surprise.

“Yeah,” Elena paused, “I was jealous that I wasn’t at Hogwarts with you, and I was angry that I might have to be like you guys, in Gryffindor and doing all that saving the world stuff, when all I wanted was to read and learn and everything. But honestly, I miss you guys, and what you do here at Hogwarts is not what I’m necessarily going to do.”

“That’s very mature,” Harry ruffled Elena’s hair with his good arm, the other fractured from the tail of the snake, “I’m proud.”

“Thanks,” Elena rolled her eyes as our friends piled into the tent. Hermione threw herself on Harry, much as I had, in a hug. I looked over at Fred, who was scowling, and I bit back my laughter.

“I’m so impressed Harry!” Ginny beamed; though I could also see she looked pissed as Harry kept his arms around Hermione just a _bit_ too long. I turned to George and held his hand, bouncing up and down on my feet.

“Come on you want to go out and get your score!” Elena urged, pushing Harry outside of the tent. He stood there, grimacing with the pain from his arm, and we all watched with baited breath.

Madame Maxime gave him a seven, which I could understand given that his arm had been pretty badly hurt, my mum gave him an eight, Dumbledore gave him an eight, Bagman gave him a ten, and Karkaroff gave him a three.

“BULLOCKS!” Neville shouted at that, but we were all jumping up and down.

“You tied with Effi! You’re in first place!” I was shouting at the top of my lungs. Harry simply looked dazed.

I felt like a thousand weights had been lifted from my shoulders, but I could only imagine how Harry felt.

“Come on, Harry, you have to hang around in the tent, Bagman wants to talk to you,” Hermione urged. Harry went back in the tent and the rest of us stood outside it happily. Claire had joined us by that point, looking cheerful as well.

“Turns out Harry is the best at learning under pressure,” Hermione was beaming at me, looking so joyful that I laughed out loud.

“Maggie, do you want to come with us?” George asked me suddenly. I turned and cocked my head to the side.

“Where are you going?” I asked curiously.

“Going to nick food from the kitchens, and Butterbeer from Hogsmeade,” Fred paused, “We’re going to throw a party in the Gryffindor common room for Harry _and_ Angelina.”

“Sounds brilliant!” I paused, “We better move fast. Hermione, Elena, explain to Harry where I’ve gone,” I waved to them and they nodded, and we all ran off towards the castle.

“We should split,” Fred stated when we reached the entranceway, “I’ll go down to the kitchens. You two go to Hogsmeade. Don’t spend the whole time acting mushy, split and get beverages.”

“Right,” George nodded, and we sprinted off to the secret passageway.

“I’ll go to the Hog’s Head, since the bartender usually gives me and Fred Firewhiskeywhen we ask,” George paused, “You get Butterbeer from Madame Rosemerta. _Don’t drink it_.”

“Alright,” I gave him a kiss that was probably longer than appropriate, given the situation, before turning and hopping into the Three Broomsticks.

“Ah Miss Johnson,” Madame Rosmerta greeted, the bar mostly empty, “Aren’t you supposed to be at the castle?”

“My mum sent me,” I lied smoothly, “Can I have a couple of kegs of Butterbeer?”

“Your mum sent you for Butterbeer kegs,” Rosmerta stated skeptically.

“Yes,” I responded confidently, raising my eyebrows. Rosmerta rolled her eyes.

“If you can pay, I don’t care much. How many do you want?”

I looked into my coin purse and counted how much I had, which was enough for three kegs.

“Three please,” I beamed. Rosmerta rolled her eyes and got them for me, nicely tying them together, and I levitated them in front of me as I met George back in the square.

We headed back up to the castle and set everything up in the Common Room, and then I ran back outside to find Harry again. I found him out in the grass with Angelina and the rest of the group, chatting together and enjoying the breeze.

“Party set up then?” Harry asked, grinning eagerly at me. I nodded and sat next to him happily, patting him on the back.

“What did they say in the champion’s tent?” I asked, leaning into George’s embrace, who had just appeared behind me.

“Well that the scroll provides a clue for the next task, and each clue is different for all of us,” Harry frowned, “But then I talked to Aunt Melinda.”

“Oh?” I asked calmly.

“Yeah, she said,” Harry frowned, looking around at all the company, before leaning over to whisper in my ear so the rest couldn’t hear, “She said Karkaroff had been a death-eaterbefore, so to watch out for him. I’ve only told Hermione and Neville.”

I nodded, looking down at the ground. It didn’t surprise me, especially after the scores today. He did not seem like a pleasant person. Unfortunately, now all my worries had suddenly returned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I HAVE FINALLY CAUGHT UP. TIME TO WRITE NEW MATERIAL. Oh you guys, I'm so excited. I really hope you've liked everything so far, and please let me know what you think!


	35. Chapter Thirty - Four: November 24 - November 27, 1994, Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "They say freak 
> 
> When you're singled out 
> 
> The red 
> 
> Well it filters through 
> 
> So lay down 
> 
> The threat is real 
> 
> When his sight 
> 
> Goes red again 
> 
> Seeing red again 
> 
> Seeing red again." 
> 
> ~ Chevelle, "The Red"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Trigger warning for mentions of self-harm and suicide.

Chapter 34: November 24 – November 27, 1994, Hogwarts

After dinner, everyone began heading up to the Tower, excited for the party. I looked around madly as I left, however, for Elena.

“What are you doing?” Harry laughed, clapping me on shoulder, “C’mon. Time to celebrate the fact that Angelina and I both have heartbeats!”

“No I know, I just,” I paused, looking at him, “I doubt Elena will have a good time in the Slytherin Common Room tonight.”

Harry raised his eyebrows, “What are you plotting?”

I grinned maliciously, “Just wait.” I sprinted through the crowd of leaving students and found her with Claire, both standing agains the wall and talking quietly.

“Look, let’s just go the library, no one will be there right now,” Claire urged.

“Yeah, then they find out I’m there, and they shove books on top of me again,” Elena groaned. 

“I wasn’t with you then! They wouldn’t attack you with  _me_ there.”

“You’re a first year just like me!”

“A first year who hexed Parkinson! I do have some respect attributed to me,” Claire declared proudly.

“Hey guys,” I interjected, standing in front of them and smiling. Both looked up at me in surprise.

“We probably shouldn’t be seen associating too much,” Claire immediately said, though her face was apologetic.

“I have an idea,” I hurriedly explained.

“What?” Elena asked, looking curious.

“I’ll sneak you into the Gryffindor Common Room,” I explained, “Look, no one will care, we’re celebrating Harry’s victory, you’re his sister, you have just as much a right to be there as anyone. And Claire is your guest.”

Claire and Elena looked at each other for a moment.

“No one would find out we were there?” Elena asked.

“No,” I reassured, “Trust me. We look out for our own.”

Claire shrugged, “Well if they find out, they can’t do much worse. At least there we know we won’t get attacked the duration of the party.”

“That’s the spirit! Come on,” I urged. I led them rapidly through the castle, taking every secret passageway and side route that I knew of.

“How do you  _know_ all of these things?” Elena asked in shock as I high-fived the portrait of Ralph the Vampire on the third floor, allowing for another passageway to open.

“You would be surprised how much exploring I’ve done with the twins in my spare time,” I explained as we crawled through, “I know this castle like the back of my hand.”

“This is useful,” Claire paused, “Can you teach us?”

“I can try. It’s more of a learn-by-doing sort of deal,” I admitted as we climbed out of the passageway and then ran through another corridor, leading to a statue of a gnarled looking wizard. I pulled out my wand and tapped his finger three times, and he moved to the side to reveal a set of steep stairs.

“These lead directly to the seventh floor,” I explained, “Come on!” We ran up the stairs as fast as we could, though they were quickly getting out of breath as we did so. Eventually we reached the seventh floor. The Gryffindor Common Room was right across form us, and I hurriedly said the password and urged them inside.

When we all walked in, everyone immediately fell silent. I was briefly worried that people would be upset before everyone cheered.

“There’s the long lost Potter sibling!” Fred roared, running over and giving Elena a hug.

“Good to see you both!” Alicia smiled happily from her corner, raising a glass of butterbeer.

“You are welcome in our Common Room any time,” Hassan Wasem, the seventh year Gryffindor Prefect, cheered.

“Of course,” a good number of people agreed. Elena was absolutely sobbing and Claire was smiling at everyone, rubbing Elena’s shoulder in comfort.

Harry walked up to Elena and grabbed her, putting her on his shoulders. Elena laughed out loud and screeched, “Put me down, Harry!”

“Never!” Harry declared, and the music was turned back on, and the party resumed. I managed to find George in the crowd and I gave him a happy kiss.

“This was brilliant, Maggie. Why didn’t we think of that before?” George grinned.

“It’s so taboo to have people go in each other’s Common Rooms? But then I remembered that I went into the Slytherin one two years ago. It’s not a big deal,” I shrugged, “I mean, I was in  _disguise_ , but it’s not like when you get sorted your brain gets branded as  **THIS HOUSE**  or anything.”

“Did you use the passageways to sneak them in?” George asked.

“Of course. I don’t think a single Slytherin saw,” I reassured.

“Let’s just keep it that way,” I heard Claire say behind me. I turned around and raised an eyebrow at her.

“Of course,” I agreed.

Claire was looking around at the common room in curiosity, “You know, I literally have no connection to this house.”

“Oh?” I asked.

“Yeah. My parents were in Ravenclaw and Slytherin, and my sister is in Ravenclaw,” Claire explained.

“You have a sister?” George asked in surprise.

“Yeah,” Claire smirked, “You might not immediately connect us, though.”

“Why?” I asked curiously.

“Well, she’s black,” Claire laughed.

“Oh,” I responded in surprise.

“Yeah, my dad’s black and from Rwanda, my mum’s Irish and white. He took her name. I got her skin, she got his,” Claire grinned, “It’s really, really fun to introduce ourselves as sisters to people. She’s in the year between you two.”

“You know, I think I remember her name,” George frowned, “Vicky? Velma?”

“Close. Valerie,” Claire was still chuckling, “I better make sure Elena isn’t overwhelmed.” She then left us to our corner and I looked at George and shrugged.

“I feel like we should get to know her better,” George frowned.

“I think she’s the sort of person who opens up in gradual steps,” I grinned. He then took my hand and we started dancing happily, the entire common room alive with excitement and joy.

“Hey Harry,” Fred drunkenly called out at one point late into the night, when he had had enough Firewhiskey to knock me unconscious.

“Yeah?” Harry laughed. He was, at that moment, entering a very bad dance contest with Neville; neither of them had much rhythm when it came to pop music.

“And Angelina,” Fred continued. Angelina at that moment was chatting happily with Lee Jordan. She looked up in amusement.

“Read us your scrolls!” Fred explained, “C’mon, we all wanna know!”

“Yeah!” I piped up eagerly.

“Let’s hear it, then!” George agreed.

“Oh fine. Harry, you want to go first?” Angelina laughed. Harry nodded and took the scroll out of his pocket. The music was silenced and everyone listened eagerly. Harry cleared his throat and began,

“ _This is your clue, you will have no second,_

_There will not be a simple solution_

_Your brain must make a contribution_

_In order to find a pathway only reckoned_

_That dealt with, you will only face_

_Those demons that once haunted you_

_And those from another’s world view_

_It won’t be obvious, in any case_

_Thirdly, you will have to trust_

_Only your deepest of natures_

_Or else you will be faced with failures_

_And ye shall be not more than dust_ ,” Harry read aloud, his voice filled with confusion, his brow furrowed in curiosity.

Everyone looked at each other in confusion.

“Erm… what about yours, Angelina?” George asked, scratching the top of his head. Angelina didn’t look any happier than Harry as she read aloud,

“ _There is no way through the jungle_

_Without the ability to solve the jumble_

_You must be aware, and you must be humble_

_To get through the first part of this struggle_

_The second part will consist of horrors_

_That once only inhabited the corners_

_These are everyone’s myriad of monsters_

_There shall be no dividers or borders_

_Thirdly, you will need to understand your mind_

_And go into the next portion blind_

_Trust your gut, and you will find_

_Yourself through the task, confined._ ”

“Alright, now I’m even more confused,” Harry groaned.

“You’re telling me,” Angelina agreed.

“Maybe the other two have better clues?” Neville asked. Hermione groaned.

“Neville, technically, Angelina and Harry weren’t supposed to share. You’re not supposed to help each other out!” Hermione explained, “I doubt Effi or Matteo would help.”

“They did seem awfully competitive,” Angelina furthered, “I think it’s best we stick together on this.”

“Well, we have a while until the task, yeah?” Harry asked, “I mean, it’s in February. I think we should give ourselves a rest till then. We’ve earned it.”

“That is true,” Angelina nodded. The music started up again, the party resumed. I turned to George, a little tired of dancing.

“Want to get out of here?” George asked, seemingly reading my thoughts. I nodded and we snuck out of the common room, wandering out of the castle and onto the grounds. We sat together by the lake; me curled up underneath his arm, leaning against a tree. George was gently playing with my hair and resting his cheek against the top of my head.

“Wonder how long Hermione will let Harry get away with not preparing for the task,” I commented thoughtfully.

“Probably a while,” George answered, “I mean, he  _does_ have until February, and the guy’s exhausted.”

“I hope so,” I snuggled up closer to him, feeling the wind nip at my legs, “He trained extremely hard for today.”

“And it paid off! Oh man, did you see Malfoy’s face at the end of the task?” George grinned.

“No, I was too focused congratulating my brother,” I laughed, “What was it?”

“Oh he looked like he was going to blow a gasket,” George was bouncing slightly in happiness, “We’re talking purple face, steam out of the ears, the whole nine. He was shouting about how it must have been a fluke, there was no way Potter could have done that without getting hurt, or without dying.”

“Course he was,” I giggled.

“And then he just looked at me and said that it must have been my dirty girlfriend’s fault, teaching him how to be some sort of wild animal. And of course I got bloody furious, right? And I just tackled him to the ground and punched him in the face. And then Fred dragged me away cause everyone was celebrating, but I really punched him hard, so I think I might have broken his nose,” George looked proud of himself.

“Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?” I gasped, “That’s the most romantic thing anyone’s ever done for me.”

George grinned, “Punching a git in the nose.”

“That makes him sound like he’s an  _ordinary_  git.”

“Fair point,” he kissed me on the side of the head and left his lips there for a long time, making me sigh happily. I leaned in closer to him and stared at our now intertwined feet.

“Remember when we sent the Harry poster after him last year?” I grinned at the memory.

“Oh god, he nearly wet himself. It was the best time in my life,” George laughed.

“Or when we turned his hair red my second year?” I continued.

“So many fond memories,” George kissed the side of my head again, “What about when we got lost in the fourth floor passageway your first year?”

“I can’t believe our second adventure, and you got me lost,” I rolled my eyes.

“Fred and I have never claimed to be responsible individuals,” George was laughing silently, his chest moving rapidly against me.

“No, you never did. It’s why we are a great team,” I laughed. George gently wrapped his arm around my waist, facing me toward him somewhat. I looked up at him and smiled at him.

“Don’t we, though?” George beamed. I smiled at him and gave him a small kiss.

“Remember when you rescued me from an acromantula?” I asked. He flushed madly and nodded.

“I think I started to like you around then,” he explained calmly.

“ _Really_? I would have thought later than that,” I asked in surprise.

“Well, I dunno. I liked holding you. It wasn’t a serious fancy or anything, not until later in the year, we were pulling some pranks on some Slytherins and I just realized I liked you more than in a physical sense,” George furthered, “And then when you had that depressive episode I just… I dunno… I didn’t like seeing you like that. I mean, neither did Fred, but I was basically torn up inside.”

“I had no idea,” I felt sincerely touched, “I’m sorry I made you sad.”

“Not really your fault you were depressed, eh?” George smirked, “It’s okay.”

“Still, I don’t like making other people upset,” I shrugged.

“Again, not your fault. Sometimes you have to look out for yourself, you know,” George kissed my forehead again and I laughed.

“Fair enough.”

There was a long pause as we snuggled together, before George asked, “When… did you start fancying me?”

“Oh lord, I’m bullocks at this sort of thing, you know,” I paused, “I probably liked you  _ages_ before I knew I did. I mean, I’m always aware of who I find physically attractive, but I have this suspicion that it literally takes me having a club beating me over the head to realize I have a serious crush on someone. But I realized I did when I got drunk that first time.”

“ _Really_?” George grinned, “So I could have asked you out then and you would have said yes?”

“Probably,” I laughed.

“That’s hilarious. No wonder you were so defensive about the Valentine,” George was laughing hysterically.

“Wait,  _did_ you send that?” I gasped in amazement.

“Nah, I have no idea who sent that. If I had sent that, Fred would have murdered me, probably,” George shrugged, “And of course he would find out, he’d see that I had a little less money than before.”

“You two really should set up some boundaries,” I joked.

“Boundaries, shmounderies,” George mocked, “We’re twins. Boundaries are for lesser beings.”

“You’re such a wanker,” I laughed, leaning my head against his shoulder.

He chuckled for a minute before responding, “I know.” We sat in silence for a long time again, and I almost felt like I could fall asleep like that.

However, before I could, I felt George shuffle for a minute. I looked up sleepily at him, blinking my eyes somewhat.

“I… erm…,” George stammered. In the low light I could see that he was blushing horrifically.

“What is it, George?” I asked.

“Uh…” George visibly swallowed, “I have something I’m trying to say.”

“Okay,” I paused, feeling somewhat nervous.

“Erm… ah… Merlin, this is more difficult than I thought it would be,” George groaned.

“You can do it,” I laughed, though my chest wasn’t laughing; what if this was bad?

“Erm… alright,” George took a deep breath. He was playing with my hair again, and I was so close to him I could hear his heart – it was practically beating out of his chest.

I looked at him, my eyebrows raised in question. He swallowed again, pursed his lips together, and nodded.

“Maggie, I love you,” he finally said, his voice surprisingly confident.

I felt my breath catch in my throat, I was so surprised by this revelation that I swear my heart skipped a beat. I then felt my mouth pull into a wide grin involuntarily. I leaned up and kissed him, hard, and he tightened his hold around my waist.

When I pulled back, I answered in complete honesty, “I love you, too.”

It was George’s turn to grin now. He kissed me again, and I pulled my legs up over his to sit in his lap, and we were kissing and kissing and kissing and kissing, and I was happily wrapping my arms around his neck and holding onto him for dear life. He was holding onto me in much the same, his grip on my waist tight, his arms enveloped around me.

After an infinite number of kisses, I began to have trouble breathing. I pulled back from him and rested my forehead against his, closing my eyes and breathing heavily. When I opened them, George was smiling at me.

“You are bloody brilliant,” George whispered.

“So are you,” I affirmed. He kissed me again, his lips leaving mine slowly, leaving my knees uncharacteristically weak.

He looked down at his watch, “Bloody hell. We should get back.”

I nodded and he helped me off the ground, holding my hand tightly as we snuck back into the castle. We crept up through the passageways and scurried through to the seventh floor, creeping back into the common room.

The party had died down; there were only a few people milling about in the common room now. Fred and Hermione were talking in a corner, her hands gesticulating wildly; Fred was eagerly responding to everything she said, and they seemed to be agreeing about it, whatever it was. Harry and Neville were playing wizard’s chess in the corner, both of them staring at the board in concentration, Neville’s foot tapping against the ground. A second year girl, a third year boy, and a girl who’s year I didn’t know were playing gobstones in the corner, and were making almost all the noise as the boy’s gobstone missed and expelled that nasty gob. My sister and Claire were both fast asleep on the couch, a blanket covered over them, both so short that they easily fit lying down on the couch, their feet dangling over the arm rests, their heads next to one another. They were facing each other in a sort of fetal position spiral.

“There they are!” Harry grinned, getting up at the sight of George and me.

“Sorry about that, gents,” George grinned.

Fred and Hermione were still talking, and now I could make out they were discussing house elves. Fred actually appeared to be listening to Hermione, and agreeing.

“No, seriously, it’s so hard for purebloods to see outside of their bubble –“

“Don’t you see? Don’t you  _see_ why it’s not okay?”

“Of course I do,  _now_ , but how do you explain sociology to a bunch of wizards?” Fred was laughing and Hermione was rolling her eyes.

“So what were you up to?” Harry smirked at me. I whacked him upside the head and he chortled madly.

“What are we going to do about your sister and her friend?” George asked, bringing back the focus to the issues at hand.

“Guess we should leave them here?” I asked, “Unless we try to sneak them back now.”

“Might be for the best,” Neville had stood up and walked over to us, folding his arms across his chest, “Don’t want to people to see them not in their beds.”

“Good point,” I nodded.

“They also should come out of their Common Room for breakfast,” Harry furthered.

“I’ll sneak them down,” George offered, “I mean, you could, Maggie, but I’d be happy to do it for you…”

“Go right ahead,” I laughed, “You could always claim to be pranking and hide them behind a suit of armor or something.”

“Exactly what I was thinking,” George nodded. He went over to Elena and Claire and gently shook both of them awake. I turned to Harry and Neville and beamed at them.

“Seriously though, what were you two up to?” Harry laughed as the George, Claire and Elena snuck out of the portrait hole.

“We were just hanging out on the grounds and talking,” I shrugged dismissively, feeling my cheeks color madly.

“Talking? Is that what the kids are calling it these days,” Neville joked. I flicked him, but was laughing with him and Harry.

“No but seriously, we mostly talked,” I repeated.

“You missed Ginny chugging a whole keg of butterbeer,” Neville laughed.

“Oh  _man!_ ” I gasped, “Please, please describe this wondrous occasion.”

“She did not throw up,” Harry declared proudly.

“She was  _very_ drunk, though. Angelina took her to bed,” Neville chuckled.

“And Ron  _did_ throw up, but because he decided to drink, like, three firewhiskeys,” Harry rolled his eyes.

“In a row,” Neville was laughing even harder now.

“In under five minutes,” Harry grinned.

“I can’t believe I missed these precious moments,” I giggled.

“Also, Alicia and Katie were definitely making out, but this wasn’t so much news as it was confirmation of what we all already knew,” Neville explained.

“Good for them,” I beamed.

“And everyone knows not to breathe a word of Elena and Claire being here,” Harry reassured.

“I guess that covers everything, then,” I nodded, before yawning.

“We should all sleep, I reckon,” Neville agreed with my silent statement.

Harry looked over at Hermione and Fred, who were still talking eagerly.

“Oh leave them be,” I rolled my eyes, “Come on, boys. Bed!”

We all wandered towards the stairs together and I collapsed on my bed, joyful with the weight of Harry and the first task off of my shoulders.

Peace never lasts long for me, though. I woke up in the morning and I came downstairs to see Ginny lying down on the couch. She had a cloth over her forehead and was muttering softly to herself.

“Hangover?” I asked, laughing. Ginny sat up immediately, looking at me with terror.

“Oh shite. What?” I demanded, sitting next to her in worry.

“Erm. There was a hang up in the plan,” Ginny groaned, massaging her head, “And yeah, I have a bloody terrible hangover, but I wanted you to know before you left.”

“Oh no, what happened?” I groaned.

Ginny looked at me with pity, “Well, we forgot that a few Gryffindors aren’t the hugest fan of you.”

I frowned at her, “Like who?”

“Like  _Siobhan_ ,” Ginny spat. I felt my eyes widen.

“What… did she do?” I growled.

“She told some Slytherins about your sister and Claire. This morning they were beat up in the Great Hall. They’re both in the Hospital Wing and the bullies in question have been suspended, but…” I was already leaving.

“Maggie, wait!” I wasn’t going to be called back by this. I ran up to the boy’s dormitory and saw Harry’s trunk. I dug through it desperately before I found the Maurader’s Map. I looked everywhere before I found Siobhan’s name, out on the grounds. I threw the map back into Harry’s trunk and sprinted out of the dormitory, out of the common room, down some secret passageways all the way out to the grounds.

Siobhan was still there, laughing with Parvati and Lavender about  _something_. I stomped over to her, my fists clenched at my sides.

She looked up at me and I saw all the color drain from her face as I grabbed her by the shirt collar and threw her agains the very tree that George and I had been sitting under yesterday.

“What the  _bloody fucking hell_ did you do?” I screeched, holding her against the tree.

“I didn’t know they would do that!” Siobhan squeaked.

“Like  _hell_ you didn’t!” I roared.

“No, I didn’t! I just, I – I’m jealous of you with George, okay, and so I said they were up there cause of that, I didn’t know they would attack them, it was horrible!” Siobhan begged.

“You are a horrible, horrific person! My sister did nothing to you!” I screamed.

“Seriously, Maggie, she didn’t know they would do that,” Parvati begged. I had always liked her; I felt inclined to believe her.

“What other fucking thing would they have done?” I hissed, “Why do you think she was  _in the common room_?”

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Siobhan begged.

“I don’t think you are!” I roared, trying my hardest not to strangle her.

“Maggie, please!” Lavender begged.

I threw Siobhan to the ground but stepped away, “You better fucking make up for what you did. You’re such a catty little –“ and then I swore, fairly loudly. Siobhan was still white, but she nodded rapidly.

“I’ll make up for it! I will! I’m sorry!” she begged. I growled, but said nothing more, not wanting to get in trouble for fighting for the millionth time. I stomped away, up to the Hospital Wing as fast as I could.

Elena was unconscious in a bed, but Claire was sitting upright, talking quietly to a girl at her bedside. The girl had many tightly woven, black dreadlocks; dark brown skin, and ravenclaw robes. She was fairly curvy in body type, and was wearing trainers instead of uniform shoes. I decided immediately she must be Claire’s sister.

Claire looked up and saw me. So did Valerie.

“Go away,” Valerie stated coldly, looking at me and glaring. She had the same thick Irish accent Claire did.

“No,” Claire shook her head, “She has just as much a right to be here as you do. And it wasn’t here fault.”

“Bringing you two into the Gryffindor Common Room was her fault,” Valerie hissed. She had square glasses and brown eyes, and brilliantly white teeth. Her nose was round, like Claire’s, and her lips were large, like Claire’s. You could tell, when they were next to each other, that they were related.

“She was looking out for Elena. Odds are if we had been anywhere else last night we would have been attacked, the Slytherins were furious after the task,” Claire rolled her yes, “And it’s not Maggie’s fault that some jerk in her year was jealous of her.”

Valerie harrumphed and sat back in her chair. I took a seat next to Elena and looked at Claire sadly.

“I really am sorry,” I affirmed.

“Oh I know,” Claire agreed, “I’m just glad that some teachers caught it and the perps are away from the school. Hopefully people will stop messing with her soon.”

“I really hope so,” I sighed, holding onto Elena’s bruised hand. I took it in mine and examined it as Claire and Valerie went back to talking. I rubbed her palm gently with my thumb, feeling tears come to my eyes. As I massaged her hand, I felt a strange ridge on her wrist. I pulled up her hand to investigate and saw many red lines all over her wrist.

“Shite,” Claire shouted behind me.

“Since when do you swear? Mum will have a fit,” Valerie groaned.

“This calls for it,” Claire groaned. I turned and looked at Claire. I was having trouble processing what I was seeing, and I felt my mouth open to say words, though none came out.

“I don’t… I don’t know if I should be telling you this,” Claire stammered.

“Telling her  _what_?” Valerie hissed.

I looked back at Elena’s wrist. Tears in my eyes, I pulled her other arm up and looked at it. The same red markings were there, though in a different pattern.

“Oh Merlin,” Claire groaned again behind me. I didn’t know what to do. I was paralyzed with shock. Elena was still out cold, her chest rising and falling with her breathing.

I began pacing in the Hospital Wing, wringing my hands and running my fingers through my hair. I still hadn’t formed a single coherent thought. Claire was looking at me in terror and Valerie looked more frustrated than any person I had ever seen in my whole life.

The weight of my emotions finally caught up with me. I collapsed on the ground, kneeling against the wooden floor. I crouched down, my elbows against my knees, holding my head in my hands. Immediately, I was sobbing.

I don’t know how long I cried. All I knew was that I couldn’t do anything else. I sobbed and sobbed, feeling my entire body shake, until finally I had no tears left to shed. I stared at my knees for a long time once I had finished crying, pulling my hair slightly.

“Maggie? What – what is it –“ I heard Harry ask me behind me. I looked up and saw that he was standing in the doorway to the Hospital Wing, looking on at the scene in shock.

I opened my mouth, but again no sound came out.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here sooner, I just knew she was unconscious and I wanted to get word to Aunt Melinda and Uncle Nathaniel – and then I wanted to yell at Siobhan, but apparently you had already done that, but I yelled at her some more – and then I found Malfoy in the hallway and we fought, I have detention, which is bloody fantastic, and – why are you crying so much?” Harry begged, trying to pull me off the floor. I refused, remaining in my kneeling position.

“Claire, what’s going on?” Harry demanded, panic entering his voice.

Claire made sounds of uncertainty behind me.

“I have no bloody idea what’s going on, either,” Valerie muttered.

I looked up at Harry, trying to mouth the words now. Harry shook his head.

“I don’t understand, Maggie, I really don’t. You’re going to have to tell me,” Harry begged.

I finally managed to point at my wrists, and then at Elena. Harry looked at me in confusion, before going over and looking at our sister. I could hear him rustling around, and then I looked to see him slowly turning around to look at me. His face had lost all of its color, and he looked as horrified as I felt.

“What the… is this… what I think it is?” he choked out.

“Yes,” Claire admitted, sounding dejected.

“Oh my god,” Harry whispered.

“ _What_ is it?” Valerie demanded.

“Elena’s been cutting herself,” Harry whispered, even quieter now. I let out another wail and found my tears again, lying down on the floor now, sobbing.

Valerie didn’t say anything, and I wasn’t interested in what she would have said. Harry helped me up off the ground and pulled me into a chair forcefully, though I could see he was also crying.

“I’ve been trying to get her to stop,” Claire sobbed, “I really have been. She won’t listen to me, and she told me not to tell anyone, I’m really sorry, I should have gone to her parents or to you or –“

“No,” Harry shook his head, “You’re just a kid, how would you have dealt with that? I just… I don’t… oh my god,” he said again.

I swallowed heavily and took Elena’s hand in mine, holding it tightly. Harry went and sat on the other side of her, to do the same. We sat there like that for a while, just staring at her while she slept. Valerie eventually left, though she did look apologetic at me as she did so. I didn’t really care much.

It was dark before Elena finally woke up. When she did, she stood up rapidly, looking around in terror.

“Elena! Elena!” Harry reassured, rubbing her shoulders, “Elena, you’re going to be okay, okay? You’re safe, you’re in the hospital wing.”

Elena looked at both of us and visibly relaxed.

“It wasn’t your fault, guys, I don’t blame you,” she managed to choke out.

“We blame ourselves, though,” Harry sighed, “This has gone on long enough. I am going to demand that something be done.”

“You don’t have to, Harry, really –“ Elena sighed.

“I will,” Harry cut her off, “This is too much. You should not have to deal with this. This is  _so_ much worse than what Neville went through first year. This is cruelty. I will be talking to everyone – Dumbledore, McGonagall, even Snape. It’s time to end this.”

Elena was crying, but she nodded.

“I will not let this happen to my sister,” Harry reaffirmed. Elena smiled a watery smile and they hugged tightly, me still holding onto her arm.

“What’s wrong, Maggie? Besides the obvious things,” Elena asked, her voice still somewhat hoarse.

I still couldn’t speak.

“Well… erm…” Harry stammered, “Look, we have to say something, okay? Well, I do. I think Maggie’s been rendered mute.”

“I’m confused,” Elena looked at us both, her eyes wide.

“We… we saw the cuts on your arm,” Harry sighed.

Elena’s face, already pale, was now completely white again. She opened her mouth and closed it again.

“I don’t know how to… properly address this. I just… I don’t… I can’t stand to see you hurt yourself, Elena. I love you,” Harry begged, “You’re my little sister.”

Elena was weeping openly, holding her face with her free hand. I still wouldn’t let the other one go.

“I know, I didn’t… I told Claire, I just… I’ve just been so… this bullying has been so horrible, I’m in so much pain, all the time,” Elena sobbed.

“I know, I know,” Harry reassured in a soft whisper, rubbing her arm.

“And I… I’m a freak, Harry. I’m a freak. I deserve everything I get. I’m a little weirdo, but unlike Maggie or you, I don’t save the world. I’m not worth anyone’s time,” Elena sobbed.

“That is  _not true_ ,” Harry insisted, “You are wonderful. You are intelligent, and you have common sense, and you are a gift to everyone in our family and in your life. I promise.”

Elena was still sobbing heavily. I finally managed to let go of her hand and I pulled her into a hug, still unable to speak. I wouldn’t let go for a long time, but she was hugging me too, and we were holding onto each other tightly. Harry joined the hug, and we stood like that for a long time, just holding each other.

“We’re going to get you some help. We’re going to get people to protect you now, all the time, in the castle. And you’re going to talk to someone. There has to be a – a wizarding version of a psychologist, yeah? There’s gotta be one of those,” Harry rambled.

Elena nodded, still crying heavily.

“I just don’t want to lose you. Neither does Maggie,” Harry begged, “Neither do your mum and dad.”

“I-I know,” Elena whimpered.

“I promise, it’ll get better. Eventually you will be old news, the Slytherins won’t give a flying pile of shite about you,” Harry reassured, “I promise. I  _know_ it’ll get better.”

“You can’t know that!” Elena retorted.

“It  _has_ to,” Harry shook his head, “It has to.”

I didn’t know why I couldn’t talk, still.

“I’m going to talk to Madam Pomphrey about a psychologist or something,” Harry declared, “Maggie, watch her.” I nodded, able to do that at least. Elena looked at me, tears still streaming from her eyes.

“Why haven’t you said anything?” she begged. I opened my mouth again, but the words choked in my mouth.

The look on her face finally broke me. Something inside of me snapped. I felt red creep up to the corners of my eyes again. I had trouble not screaming.

“I love you,” I said simply. Elena looked at me in shock as I got up, trying my hardest to not explode.

“Claire, make sure she’s alright,” I asked. Claire nodded. I walked out of the room in a rush, going down the staircase. I didn’t know where he would be, but it didn’t matter. I would find him.

I ran through the corridors, sprinting through everywhere, until finally I reached the Great Hall. No one was in there; dinner had already ended. I frowned, hissing to myself. I turned around and went back up to the Common Room. Everyone was there, and shouted after me as I went upstairs to the boy’s dormitory again. I took out the map and read it hurriedly. He was in the Slytherin Common Room.

I didn’t give a flying fuck. I ran out of the tower again, sprinting all the way down to the dungeons. When I got to the entrance, I just stood outside of it, waiting. He would have to come out some time.

Eventually, a girl, probably in the sixth year, walked out. She saw me and jumped in shock.

“What are  _you_ doing here?” she demanded. Though the older students didn’t have as much of a beef with my brother and me, they still didn’t particularly like us. I got up and slammed her, violently, into the wall. She squeaked with terror.

“Go get me Malfoy.  _Now_ ,” I hissed. She nodded furiously, scampering back into the Common Room.

A few minutes later, she came outside, dragging Malfoy by the hood of his robes. She dropped him in front of me and then ran off, to wherever she had been headed before. I pulled Malfoy up from the ground, and immediately punched him in the face. He cried out in pain and I punched him again, and again, and finally threw him angrily to the floor like a rag doll. I started kicking him, hard, in the side, my vision still colored red.

“I didn’t do it!” Malfoy shouted, his face covered in blood. I hissed angrily.

“You might as well have! You don’t know the blood  _extent_ of what you’ve done!” I screamed.

“You’re completely mad!” Malfoy roared.

“YOU’VE MADE MY SISTER DEPRESSED!” I shrieked, “THE BULLYING, THAT I AM SURE YOU HAVE ENCOURAGED, HAS PRACTICALLY MADE HER SUICIDAL. SHE IS  _CUTTING HERSELF_. SHE COULD BE DEAD,  _DEAD_ , BECAUSE OF  **YOU**.”

Malfoy sat up, sneering slightly, “Do you honestly think I care what –“

I knelt down to his level. I looked him straight in the eye, “Do you get it, you bloody prick? She’s cutting herself. She could kill herself. I don’t give a flying  _fuck_ what you care about.”

Malfoy watched me silently as I opened my mouth again, “If she dies – if you cause this – I will murder you.”

Malfoy’s face paled considerably. It seemed to be a trend that day.

“I am not bluffing. I am not kidding. If she dies, you die. That’s how it goes. I’ll go away for the rest of my life if I have to. She is my sister, and I will  _not_ let her murderer live. You know that I can murder you. I have the means. So this is what you have to do to stay alive. You will call off the Slytherins. They will leave her and Claire alone. You will no longer bully her, at all. If I hear one word of bullying,” I sneered, “I’ll remind you that I’m capable of murdering you again. If I see one more cut on her wrist, I will scream at you until it gets through your thick skull. And if she kills herself,” I laughed humorlessly, “ _You will die_.”

Malfoy appeared to have wet himself.

“Got it?” I sneered. He nodded hurriedly. I gave him another kick in the side for good measure, before walking off to Snape’s office.

I went in without knocking, and he appeared to be writing something furiously on a piece of parchment. He looked up at me in shock.

“I’m writing for a therapist as we speak, Miss Johnson, I don’t –“ Snape began, but I cut him off.

“I just beat up and threatened Malfoy. I think you should give me detention,” I stated dully.

Snape raised an eyebrow in surprise.

“I explained to him that if my sister commits suicide,” I continued, “I will kill him.”

Snape pressed his lips together in a thin line reminiscent of McGonagall.

“But I just punched him and kicked him a bit. I think you should give me detention so that when he comes whining to you, you can say you’ve already dealt with me. I also want you to threaten him yourself,” I grunted, “I don’t care how. Just make sure he has the fear of God in him.”

“Alright. I will see you in my office next Saturday at five o’clock,” Snape agreed.

“Good,” and I left, slamming the door behind me. When I walked by the Slytherin Common Room again, Malfoy was still lying on the ground. At the sight of me, he screamed, running back into the safety of his Common Room. I smiled without mirth, walking back up the stairs.

I really meant it. I would kill him.

I didn’t tell anyone about my threat, however. When I got back to the Common Room, I just told half the story, and said I had been talking to Snape. George spent the rest of the evening trying to comfort me, but I was not to be comforted.

The next day, Mum and Dad came back, and spent the rest of the week with Elena in the hospital wing. She didn’t leave, though I was sure she was healed, as Claire came back only a few days after going in. The Slytherins still didn’t talk to her, but they didn’t do anything to her either. Every time I passed Malfoy in the hall, he squeaked and ran away like a bloody coward. 

“What… did you  _do_ ,” Harry asked the first time this happened, on our way to Care of Magical Creatures.

“I told him I’d kill him if Elena died,” I stated dully, walking down the hill to Hagrid’s Hut.

“You  _what_?” Harry gasped.

“I meant it,” I shrugged, “I will. I honestly don’t care if I go to Azkaban for the rest of my life. He’ll have deserved it, if that happens.”

Harry frowned, but he didn’t say anything more. He could tell from my tone of voice that this was the exact sort of thing he wasn’t going to be able to persuade me out of. Neville and Hermione were already there, and looked at us all in concern.

Harry looked at me, and I shrugged. I didn’t care who knew. He hissed it to them in their ears, and they looked at me in fear.

“I’m not kidding, guys, and don’t try to talk me out of it,” I said dully, fending off their protests.

“Maggie, are you  _mental_?” Hermione hissed.

“Maybe. Doesn’t mater,” I shrugged.

Neville looked at me and then back at Hermione for a minute, “You know what? I’m not going to argue with this. I’m confident we can keep Elena alive, and if this keeps the Slytherins in line, what harm has been done?”

Hermione groaned, but didn’t say anything. I smirked and continued to work on our Skrewt, somehow able to focus on it with a somewhat cheerier mood.

That night, I was working with McGonagall again, transfiguring myself into animals. That day, I turned into a wolf, and then a hyena, and then a bear.

“So many angry animals,” McGonagall groaned, “I wish you wouldn’t go through every one.”

As I morphed back from the hyena, I shrugged, “Mammals don’t feel right, anyway.”

“This worries me,” McGonagall pursed her lips together tightly, “What if you turn into a komodo dragon? Or a shark?”

“Then I’m a shark,” I laughed. McGonagall looked at me sternly.

“I heard about your threat with Malfoy. I don’t approve,” she stated calmly.

“Well, let’s keep my little sister alive, and it won’t matter,” I muttered.

“This isn’t the proper way to go about this. I would punish you, but this has been a horrifically emotionally charged time for you. I don’t feel comfortable punishing you for something that would make anyone act in a rash way,” McGonagall sighed.

“Well, thank you for that,” I mumbled. McGonagall hesitated for a moment, before patting me on the shoulder.

“Miss… Maggie, you have had to deal with more than most students who come through this school,” McGonagall paused, “You and your three other friends. I’m astounded that you haven’t needed psychological aid yourself, much.”

I shrugged again.

“If you would like to come and talk to me at any time, please, do. I feel like I am a more… understanding person than Professor Snape,” McGonagall continued. I looked at her for a minute, feeling genuinely touched.

“I don’t know what I’m feeling right now,” I sighed. McGonagall went and sat at her desk, and I sat in front of it, playing with my fingernails.

“It’s more than anger. It’s more than  _rage_. It’s different. Usually I’m passionate – I’m angry – I’m firey, it’s like there’s some sort of red hot  _thing_ inside of me scratching and clawing to get out,” I explained calmly, “But now, it’s more like, something – just – determination. I’m not passionate. I’m steadfast. I am calmer than I ever have been. This isn’t fury and rage. This is justice,” I whispered.

“It is not your job to carry out the law, Maggie,” McGonagall frowned.

“I’m not carrying out the law,” I shook my head, “I’m… I’m defending my family.”

“Maggie,” McGonagall sighed, “I understand the emtions here. I understand what it would do to you to lose your little sister. But you have a bright,  _exceptionally_ bright future. You are the singular most gifted transfiguration student I’ve ever seen. More than Miss Granger, because you don’t just learn it, you question it; you want to understand every aspect of it. You could replace me when I retire, you could continue on your grandmother’s work, whatever you wish. You also could do so many other things – work at the ministry, join your… friends, in making the joke shop – it’s literally all at your fingertips. I do not want to see you throw it away.”

“For my little sister, I would do anything,” I stated dully.

“Killing Mr. Malfoy wouldn’t bring her back,” McGonagall stated wisely.

I felt tears come to my eyes, “But maybe threatening him will keep her here.”

McGonagall watched me as I started to cry, hurriedly wiping away the tears.

“Well, that is true,” she agreed after a long while, when I had finally stopped crying.

“We are doing everything to help your sister. She is going to be getting full time psychiatric care,” McGonagall reassured, “Your parents are going to be at the castle a frequent amount. The Slytherins have appeared to heed your warnings. I think the worst of it is over.”

I began sobbing again, feeling my shoulder shake madly with the effort. McGonagall was patting my shoulder again as I continued to sob, clutching tightly at my knees.

“I felt – so –  _hopeless,_ ” I managed to choke out.

“I know, Maggie, I know,” McGonagall reassured.

I finally pulled myself together, swallowing heavily, looking up at her.

“I think I should keep practicing,” I stated determinedly.

“If you are sure,” McGonagall frowned, looking skeptical.

“I’m sure,” I nodded, standing up and practicing. That evening, I turned into two more types of animals – a sabre toothed cat, and then a strange little animal called a cynodont, a close relative of the ancestors for mammals.

“Well, we appear to be getting somewhere, I think,” McGonagall smiled at me. I grinned back.

“I definitely would like to know what I am,” I nodded eagerly.

“And you will. Now go get some sleep,” McGonagall ordered. I left her office, feeling somewhat better. As I walked through the hallways, I ran into the prick again – Malfoy.

He squeaked, but tried to pull himself together, glaring at me. I rolled my eyes.

“Malfoy, has it ever occurred to you, how many lives you are desperate to try and ruin?” I chuckled humorlessly, “You really should examine that in yourself.”

Malfoy watched me go with shocked, but angry eyes as I laughed all the way up to the Common Room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New material! Thank you guys for your wonderful comments!! I hope you enjoy!


	36. Chapter Thirty - Five: November 28 - December 11, 1994, Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "All my life I've been searching for something 
> 
> Something I can put my finger on 
> 
> Baby, I've been living for the weekend 
> 
> Baby, I've been living for this cyber soul 
> 
> Every Friday just about midnight 
> 
> All my problems seem to disappear 
> 
> Everyone that I miss when I'm distant 
> 
> Everybody's here 
> 
> I need love cause only love is true 
> 
> I need every waking hour with you 
> 
> And my friends cause they're so beautiful 
> 
> Yeah my friends they are so beautiful 
> 
> They're my friends." 
> 
> ~ Band of Skulls, "Friends"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: Mentions of self harm and suicide

Chapter 35: November 28 – December 11, 1994, Hogwarts

The next two weeks passed by in relative quiet. The next task was in ages; my sister was safe in the hospital wing with my parents; Claire was being left alone. Malfoy, though not quite cowering in fear of me every time I passed, still had not attempted any retaliation. My threats had probably sunk _somewhere_ in that thick skull of his.

In fact, something about the castle was starting to feel positively _normal._ Hermione, Harry, Neville and I had gone back to looking up things for our little revolution, scouring law books in the library, hissing to each other eagerly over the things we found. I continued my animagus lessons, still not settling on any one animal form, now passing through _Jonkeria, Diictodon, Inostrancevia, and Lophorhinus_ – all extinct therapsids, a group of animals that includes mammals and their closest relatives. Neville’s selective breeding experiments were working – he now had plants that could protect you from _Petrificus totalus_ , much to his joy. Ron even paid him a galleon for some.

George was constantly trying to calm me after the events of the past week, which I did appreciate on some level.

“We will protect them, okay?” he reassured for the umpteenth time the weekend after everything. I rolled my eyes at him, patting his arm.

“I know, George. Seriously.”

“I just don’t want you – to do that – the thing,” George spluttered.

“You shouldn’t want me to,” I agreed, giving him a kiss on the cheek. George sighed.

“I’m just… disappointed. We said I love you. We should have spent this past week in bliss,” George muttered, “Not anyone’s fault we didn’t, but still.”

“Of course,” I agreed, “Just… this is my life, George. Shite like this is constantly happening to me. I’m used to it now, but this is what you signed on for.”

“I know,” George nodded, pulling me in for a long kiss even though we were in the middle of the corridor, “And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

I grinned happily and walked with him to the grounds, where we spent hours playing fetch with the giant squid.

The next Care of Magical Creatures lesson, as we all tried to take care of the skrewts, I was given a rather unpleasant vision.

“Maggie! Harry!” a simpering voice called out cheerfully. I looked up to see Rita Skeeter walk up to us, a wide, creepy smile on her face.

“Bloody hell,” Harry groaned.

“What do you want, then?” I asked, not in the mood to play nice.

“I was just hoping to get an interview with Harry after the task! I couldn’t find him anywhere the day of,” Skeeter smiled a little too wide, “Care to give me a few words? I promise not to distract you from your lesson!”

“I really,” Harry grunted as he tried to get a skrewt to go into a crate, “Don’t have the time.”

“Well what about you, Maggie? There are rumors your family is still in the castle, despite the task being over with! Care to comment on why?” Skeeter continued.

“Not particularly,” I muttered as I finally managed to slip a leash onto one of the skrewts.

“Who’re you?” Hagrid called out. He looked absolutely confused, and I internally groaned.

“Rita Skeeter, a reporter for the _Daily Prophet_ ,” Skeeter beamed at him, walking into Hagrid’s pumpkin patch and holding out her hand for him to shake.

“Dumbledore said yeh weren’ allowed inside the school,” Hagrid responded, frowning, “Yer disturbin’ my students.”

“What are these fascinating creatures?” Skeeter asked, as if she hadn’t heard him.

“Didn’t yeh hear me?” Hagrid stated again, “Get outta my lesson!”

“I am terribly sorry, I only wanted to get a word with Harry!” Skeeter responded defensively.

“You heard him,” I interjected tertly, getting another rope around a stinger, “Go!”

Skeeter’s eyes narrowed, “You’re as difficult as your hard-headed mother, I see.”

“And you’re as nasty as she told me you were,” I retorted, “Now leave, unless you want to get stung.”

Skeeter saw the validity of my claim and snuck out of the pumpkin patch, walking through the grounds to the road that lead to the village. I breathed a sigh of relief.

“Thank yeh for that, Maggie, but yeh didn’t have to,” Hagrid said, beaming down at me.

“Are you kidding? I would punt her across the planet if I could,” I laughed.

Hagrid looked around at my classmates, who were still struggling with the skrewts.

“Maggie, yeh got a real talent with ‘em!” he praised. I grimaced slightly before smiling appreciatively.

“Just gotta know the right way to approach them,” I explained. It was the truth; my personal opinion of the skrewts notwithstanding.

“That’s what I’ve been sayin’!” Hagrid praised. I looked at my watch as Neville ran away from one of the skrewts, panting against the fence once he’d gotten away.

“Erm, I think it might be time for class to end, though,” I suggested. Hagrid sighed and nodded.

“Yeh best be goin’, everyone, I’ll see you next week!” The class hurried out of Hagrid’s yard, everyone breathing sighs of relief. Pansy Parkinson, constantly annoyed that she was the only Slytherin left in the class, looked at me with pure loathing as we left.

“You got something to say?” I asked calmly, folding my arms across my chest.

“I don’t know what you said to Draco,” she simpered, glaring at me, “But he’s told people to stop going after your sister, so you should tell him that you won’t do… whatever you threatened him with.”

“Nah,” I responded simply, walking away.

“Hey!” she shouted angrily. I turned around and glared at her.

“The moment I let him off the hook is the moment you lot start torturing her again,” I snarled, “So no, I will not let him off. Don’t ask me again.” I then hurried up to the castle with Neville and Hermione; Harry going off to Divination while we went to Arthmancy. Nothing much new happened in Arithmancy; we were applying basic calculus to predict situations in the distant future (for example, when humans would go extinct was my chosen event; by my calculations it would happen in about one million years, though we would have descendents. Hermione calculated when no pure blooded wizards would be left; that would only happen in a hundred thousand years. Neville managed to calculate when the next asteroid would hit the earth; that was in a frightening short hundred years, which we all hoped he had gotten wrong, even though Hermione checked his calculations.)

“Maybe it’ll be a small asteroid,” Neville reassured calmly.

“Maybe we’ll be dead? I mean wizards and witches live longer than muggles but the odds of our little foursome living long are small,” I encouraged.

“ _Why_ must you talk about our early deaths in such a cavalier manner,” Hermione groaned.

“Well, I figure embracing our corpse-strewn future is the best possible way to deal with it,” I grinned.

“I’m actually with Maggie on this one,” Neville laughed.

“You two are depressing,” Hermione shook her head.

“It’s better than dwelling on our corpse-strewn past!” I giggled.

“Gotta always be looking forward,” Neville chortled.

“You two are _horrible people_ ,” Hermione harrumphed.

“You know you love us,” I beamed, high-fiving Neville over her head.

“Good lord, stop taking advantage of it!” Hermione rolled her eyes. Neville and I hugged her from either side, making her groan in both amusement and bemusement.

“ _Honestly_ , you two,” she snorted as we let go and all left the classroom together at the end of the lesson.

“We love you, Hermione,” we laughed in unison. She rolled her eyes again as we headed off to dinner. But then, she frowned and looked at us right before we were about to enter the Great Hall.

“Mind waiting a minute? I want to investigate something,” Hermione asked.

Neville’s stomach audibly growled.

“Oh alright,” she sighed before we could say another word, “I’ll see you later.” She then ran off, leaving Neville and I very confused. He looked at me and shrugged, and we sat together at the Gryffindor table. Harry was already there, laughing with Ron about that day’s Divination lesson.

“Trelawny was a prat again?” I asked curiously, sitting next to him and grabbing a heaping of soup.

“When is she not,” Harry grinned, “I’m going to die, don’t you know.”

“You know, at this point, when you die it’ll just be weird,” I rolled my eyes.

“Harry’s ability to escape death is world renowed,” Neville nodded.

“Books have been written in his honor,” I grinned.

“Sonnets composed about his powers,” Neville grinned back at me as Harry groaned next to us.

“The next great muggle films? About Harry’s ability to evade death,” I laughed.

“The spectre of death is so frustrated at this point he threatens to _never_ collect Harry,” Neville fake-sighed heavily.

“’I’m too old for this shit,’ the spectre was heard saying one blustery November afternoon,” I giggled.

“But the spectre accepted that everyone must die, regardless of how many times they spat in his face in the past,” Neville was laughing so hard as he said this he was clutching his stomach.

“’Mark my words, though, the kid owes me big time’, Death finished in his formal statement to the press after the events of the First Task of the Triwizard Tournament,” I grinned.

“Alright, alright, yeesh!” Harry groaned. Ron next to him had fallen under the table from laughing so hard.

“We’re on a roll today, Neville,” I grinned, high-fiving him again. He grinned back.

“Honestly you two, it’s not like you haven’t evaded as many deadly situations as me,” Harry grumbled.

“Neither of us faced Voldy-pants in the final part of the third floor corridor,” I countered.

“And neither of us are in the Tournament,” Neville agreed.

“And yah know, I’m pretty sure neither of us had Voldemort come after us as infants,” I finished beaming at Harry.

Neville paused for the slightest of moment before saying, “Yeah,” though his voice was a little subdued. I looked at him in questioning, but Harry had not caught this moment.

“Well, yeah, but we all fought a bloody basilisk,” he interjected.

Neville, looking visibly relieved said, “True, but you got bitten!”

“You hit your head on a pillar and got a concussion!”

“Fawkes fixed that in a second!”

“Well, Fawkes got rid of the poison!” Harry was grinning happily.

“I scratched my leg?” I offered, deciding to let Neville’s comment go.

“Oh that barely counts,” Harry shook his head.

“She was sort of struggling not to drown when she did, though,” Neville defended.

“ _Thank_ you, Neville,” I beamed at him. He grinned back at me.

“Oh please, that’s nothing compared to getting bitten by the basilisk!” Harry laughed.

“Wait, I think we’ve switched sides here,” Neville commented.

“Yeah, aren’t _we_ supposed to be arguing that you’re more danger prone?” I roared with laughter as Harry’s brow furrowed in anger, him muttering, “Wait!” in surprise at the turn in the discussion.

“Did it again, Neville!” I grinned, high-fiving him for a third time. He was beaming wider than ever as he shouted, “A flawless team!”

“What is going on?” I heard a voice ask in amusement. I looked up to see George grinning at me, Fred sitting down next to him and grabbing food.

“Neville and I are ragging on everyone apparently,” I laughed.

“It’s amazing, the ability we have to annoy people,” Neville was giggling happily.

“They’re in peak form,” Ron gasped, breathless as he managed to stop laughing and crawl out from under the table.

“I’ll get you guys back for this,” Harry grumbled in annoyance.

“I’m so proud,” George laughed, leaning across the table to give me a small kiss. Ron, Fred, and Harry made audible noises of disgust. Harry, who was closest to me, I managed to whack upside the head for this.

“So where’s Hermione?” Fred asked curiously, his mouth stuffed with food.

“Oh you’re not _still_ on about that, are you?” George groaned.

“Wha’?” Fred responded defensively.

“She said she had to check something out and then she ran off,” Neville explained calmly.

Fred grumbled in annoyance and continued to eat food.

“Why does he care where Hermione is?” Ron asked in confusion.

“Ron, you bloody well have the emotional range of a teaspoon,” I rolled my eyes.

“Oi!”

“What did my brother do now?” Ginny asked, sitting down with us.

“Acted like a prat,” George chuckled.

“What else is new?” Ginny grinned.

“I’m sitting _right here_!” Ron protested.

“Yes, and we’re all proud of you for that,” Harry laughed, clapping him on the shoulder.

“Oh, this weekend Luna wants to hang out with us. Is that okay, guys?” Ginny asked.

“Who is Luna?” Neville asked.

“My friend, she’s in my year, in Ravenclaw,” Ginny explained, “I’ve been hanging out with you lot so much I’ve sort of been neglecting her. And I mean, most of the time I can excuse it cause we’re in the common room, but we’re planning on playing Quidditch on the grounds and I said she could watch.”

“Of course!” Harry reassured.

“Any friend of Ginny is a friend of ours,” I beamed.

“Thank you so much,” Ginny grinned at me, turning back to eat her food happily.

As we left the Great Hall, chatting amicably with one another, we ran into Hermione running towards us.

“There you are!” Neville beamed.

“Where the bloody hell have you been?” I laughed.

“You missed us making fun of Ron, your favorite sport,” Harry chortled.

“I heard that!”

Hermione rolled her eyes, “Come on, guys, I have something to show you, we have to go _right now_!” She then grabbed the three of us and dragged us through the corridor, down the set of stairs that lead to the kitchens.

“Hermione, why are you bringing us here?” I asked in surprise as she tickled the green pear.

“I thought we said we weren’t going to do any hands on stuff until we had collected enough info?” Neville furthered.

“No, trust me, I was just curious, I wanted to get their first hand accounts of what they thought about it all, you know, that _is_ data, I swear I was just hear to listen, and – oh just wait!” Hermione shook her head madly as she dragged us through door.

I looked around in curiousity when suddenly Harry was tackled to the floor. I looked down to see that Harry had been tackled by none other than –

“Dobby!” Harry gasped in shock.

“Harry Potter!” Dobby greeted back happily, “Dobby has been hoping and hoping to see Harry Potter, sir! And Harry Potter has come to see him, instead!”

Dobby got off Harry and looked at him, beaming. He had actual tears in his eyes. He looked the same as he had two years ago, but now he was wearing clothes instad of a pillowcase. In fact, he was wearing a tea cozy as a hat, a tie with horseshoes over his bare chest, children’s football shorts, and two mismatched socks.

“Dobby, how are you here?” I gasped.

“Maggie Johnson!” Dobby squeaked, “Oh, it is wonderful for Dobby to see Maggie too, miss!”

I laughed and pulled Dobby in for a hug, making him squeak.

“No one has ever hugged Dobby before!” Dobby gasped.

“Well, of course I hugged you,” I smiled kindly at him.

“Maggie Johnson is much kinder than the other elves says to Dobby!” Dobby squeaked.

“But seriously, Dobby, why are you here?” Harry asked curiously.

“Dobby has come to work at Hogwarts, sir!” Dobby explained, “Professor Dumbledore gave Dobby and Winky jobs, sir!”

“Wait a second,” I interjected, “Why does Winky need a job?”

“Very unfortunate, Maggie, miss, very unfortunate. Winky was _fired_ , miss. Winky disobeyed Winky’s master, and Mr. Crouch was _very_ upset with Winky!” Dobby explained.

“That’s horrible!” I snarled.

“Tis normal, miss!” Dobby insisted, “Come, Harry and Harry’s friends! Come!” Dobby then basically dragged us through the kitchens, past all the elves looking at us, bowing and curtsying. We finally stopped in front of the fire, where Winky was sitting in front of it on a stool. She was wearing a skirt and blouse and a blue hat, but she wasn’t taking care of her clothes at all.

“Hello again, Winky,” Harry greeted. Winky looked at him for a moment before bursting into tears.

“Oh no,” Hermione sighed, “ _Please_ don’t cry, Winky.”

But she cried harder at that, and Dobby beamed up at us.

“Would Harry Potter and Harry Potter’s friends like cups of tea?” he squeaked over Winky’s sobs.

“Er, sure, yeah,” Harry answered nervously. Immediately, six house elves came up to us, handing us cups and filling them with tea. The elves all bowed happily as we stared at them in shock.

“Merlin, I had no idea what house elves were like,” Neville muttered quietly.

“How long have you been here, Dobby?” Harry asked him.

“Only a week, Harry Potter, sir!” Dobby explained happily, “Dobby came to see Professor Dumbledore, sir. You see, sir, it is very difficult for a house-elf who has been dismissed to get a new position, sir, very difficult indeed…”

Winky began sobbing even louder. I had no idea what to do to help her.

“Dobby has traveled the country for two whole years, sir, trying to find work!” Dobby continued, “But Dobby hasn’t found work, sir, because Dobby wants paying now!”

All of the house-elves looked as if Dobby had said some sort of racial slur. Hermione, however, praised him, going, “Good for you, Dobby!”

“Thank you, miss!” Dobby agreed, grinning broadly, “But most wizards doesn’t want a house-elf who wants paying, miss. ‘That’s not the point of a house-elf,” they says, and they slammed the door in Dobby’s face! Dobby likes work, but he wants to wear clothes and he wants to be paid, Harry Potter and Harry Potter’s friends… Dobby likes being free!”

Now the elves treated Dobby like a pariah, backing away from him. Winky was still crying heavily, though she was staying put.

“And then, Harry Potter, Dobby goes to visit Winky, and finds out Winky has been freed too, sir!” Dobby continued. Winky was now screaming with misery, lying facedown on the floor, slamming her fists into the stone and bawling her eyes out. I leaned down and patted her shoulder, but she didn’t seem to have noticed, and I looked up at Hermione with complete disbelief etched into my face.

“And then Dobby had the idea, Harry Potter, sir! ‘Why doesn’t Dobby and Winky find work together?’ Dobby says. ‘Where is there enough work for two house-elves?’ says Winky. And Dobby thinks, and it comes to him, sir! _Hogwarts_! So Dobby and Winky came to see Professor Dumbledore, sir, and Professor Dumbledore took us on!”

Dobby beamed at us, tears welling in his eyes in happiness.

“And Professor Dumbledore says he will pay Dobby, sir, if Dobby wants paying! And so Dobby is a free elf, sir, and Dobby gets a Galleon a week and one day off a month!”

“What?” I gasped.

“That’s not much at all!” Hermione shouted in amazement.

“Professor Dumbledore offered Dobby ten Galleons a week, and weekends off,” Dobby’s face was etched with horror, “But Dobby beat him down, misses… Dobby likes freedom, misses, and he isn’t wanting too much, misses, he likes work better.”

Hermione frowned heavily, and opened her mouth to speak, but I shook my head. She glared at me a minute before sighing and nodding.

“Are you happy to be free of the Malfoys, then?” Harry asked.

“Oh yes, sir, yes!” Dobby nodded eagerly, “Dobby is _very_ happy! Dobby’s old masters were…” Dobby choked on his words.

“You don’t work for them anymore, Dobby,” I reassured.

“Yeah, you can say whatever you want about them, no matter how bad,” Neville agreed.

Dobby looked at the four of us, opening his mouth. He then managed to choke out, “Dobby… Dobby can, yes, sir… Dobby could… Dobby could tell Harry Potter and his friends that his old masters were… were… _very bad, Dark wizards!_ ” Dobby was shaking all over, and made a move to grab a nearby table to bang it on his head, but Harry grabbed him and pulled him away.

“Thank you, Harry Potter, thank you,” Dobby gasped.

“You just need to practice,” I grinned.

“Practice!” Winky suddenly stopped sobbing, sitting up in horror, “You is ought to be ashamed of yourself, Dobby, talking that way about your masters!”

“They isn’t my masters anymore, Winky!” Dobby answered angrily, “Dobby doesn’t care what they think anymore!”

“Oh you is a bad elf, Dobby!” Winky moaned, “My poor Mr. Crouch, what is he doing without Winky? He is needing me, he is needing my help! I is looking after the Crouches all my life, and my mother is doing it before me, and my grandmother is doing it before her… or what is they saying if they knew Winky was freed? Oh the shame, the shame!” Winky buried her face in her skirt and bawled.

“Well, Crouch retired, didn’t he?” I shrugged, “He can look after himself in his house. Old bigot can look after himself.”

“You should not talk about my master like that!” Winky protested.

“I can talk about any man who refuses to promote my mother because she’s muggle-born and a woman, like that!” I snapped back.

“You do not know my master, miss!” Winky continued, “My master is a good wizard, my master has burdens you cannot know!”

“Yeah, and he can deal with it by himself,” I glared at her.

“Master is needing his Winky!” Winky insisted, “Master cannot manage all by himself!”

“Oh I bet he can,” I snapped again, feeling my hands ball into fists, “He kept my mother in a position she was overqualified for for _years_ , and then he retires right during the Quidditch World Cup and Triwizard Tournament, when the workload was highest! He pawned off his problems on her! Serves him _right_ to lose his house elf!”

“You take that back, miss!” Winky snapped.

“No,” I retorted back, “Dobby, sorry, but we’re going to go now. It was good to see you, though.”

“Thank you, Maggie,” Dobby beamed, “Dobby is going to buy a sweater next!” He pointed at his bare chest.

“You know, I think I have a friend who can give you an extra one,” Harry grinned, “Do you like maroon?”

Dobby beamed happily.

“We’ll shrink it to fit you, but you’ll love it,” Harry laughed. We left the kitchens then.

“Thank you, Dobby,” Harry smiled at him, “See you!”

“Harry Potter… can Dobby come and see you sometimes, sir?” Dobby asked shyly.

“Of course,” Harry smiled again. Dobby beamed at him.

We left the kitchens, climbing off to the Common Room in a daze.

“I do not even know where to _start_ with that,” Hermione sighed.

“Again, big picture, Hermione. Let’s focus on the big picture,” Neville reassured, clapping her on the shoulder.

“You really hate Crouch, huh?” Harry asked in amazement.

“Can you blame me? With how he treated Mum?” I rolled my eyes.

“Of course I don’t blame you, I’m just amused,” Harry shrugged.

The next day, Hermione and I had Ancient Runes class, and we sat down together, pulling out our Mayan Rune Dictionaries. We were due to translate a large portion of text that day as a sort of final assignment in Mayan; the term was nearly up, and next term we’d be working with Hebrew; meaning Hermione had a giant leg up on the rest of us.

“I’m telling you, we spend the Christmas Holidays learning,” I insisted, “Well, we spend them having _you_ teach _me_.”

“You’ll be fine, it’s the same as any other alphabet,” Hermione smirked.

“Nuh-uh, you’re going to give me a leg up on this one,” I stuck my tongue out at her.

“And why will I do that?” Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Cause I am the coolest person you know,” I looked at her with puppy dog eyes. She groaned and nodded.

“Victory is mine!” I raised my arms over my head and grinned. When I looked back in front of my desk again, Sam Lee was standing in front of me.

“Oh, hey,” I answered, only somewhat cooly.

“Hey. I just wanted to say, I’m sorry about what happened to your sister,” Sam said.

I looked at him in surprise, “Oh, thank you.”

“Yeah. I saw what happened. It was horrific,” Sam grimaced, “I sort of… told one of those Slytherin wankers that I would claw his eyes out if I saw him do it again.”

I grinned, “Really?”

“I can’t stand bullies,” Sam shrugged, “I think my tattoo scared him enough. He ran away.”

“Nice,” I laughed.

“He didn’t get suspended, but I make clawing motions whenever I pass him in the corridor. Anyway, yeah. See yah,” he went and sat down at his desk, pulling out his dictionaries. He never sat with anyone else.

“That was amazingly friendly for him,” Hermione commented.

“I’m genuinely touched,” I nodded.

“Sam Lee: the mysterious enigma,” Hermione giggled. I rolled my eyes at her as we started our lesson. The translations weren’t too bad, but Mayan wasn’t my favorite of the alphabets and rune meanings we had learned. When we left the lesson, Sam didn’t smile at us, but he did give us a nod as he went into the corridor.

“I’m not exactly certain that stranger things have happened,” Hermione frowned.

“He probably just feels sorry for me ‘cause of Elena,” I shrugged, “She’s still in the Hospital Wing.”

“Want to go visit her? We have time before charms,” Hermione offered. I nodded and we went up to the Wing. Inside, Elena was sitting up in her bed, reading one of her books; my parents were talking to the therapist in a corner, whispering quietly together.

“Hey Mum, Dad, Elena,” I greeted, waving awkwardly from the doorway. Elena smiled slightly at me and my mother rushed forward to hug me.

“How have you been doing, sweetie?” my mum asked, “I’m so sorry, we’ve literally been with Elena nonstop, we haven’t come to visit –“

“I wouldn’t expect anything else, Mum, it’s fine,” I laughed, “How are things going?”

“I’m making progress,” Elena shrugged.

“It’s going to be a long process. This term has done a number on her,” Dad frowned, reaching over to pat her on the leg.

“Eventually we’re going to have to leave, but not until the therapist declares she isn’t a danger to herself anymore,” my mum continued, “Till then, she stays here, and we stay here, and she does her schoolwork in here.”

Elena was scowling in her corner.

“Don’t… don’t they only do that if you attempt suicide, Mrs. Johnson?” Hermione asked nervously.

“Well, Elena didn’t tell Maggie the whole story,” my dad sighed. He looked older than I had ever seen him.

“In my defense, Harry told me they knew I had cut myself, and then Maggie flipped out and left go bully Malfoy,” Elena muttered.

“How do you know about that?” I asked.

“Claire has _ears_ , you know,” Elena laughed somewhat.

“Well, apparently Elena tried to kill herself a week before the first task,” Mum stated, before bursting into tears. Dad stood up and rubbed her back soothingly.

“Claire found me and managed to save me. I didn’t do a good job,” Elena muttered.

“We’re all glad of this!” Mum wailed.

“Anyway, it _was_ a wake up call. I came to you guys for help in defending myself. Then the Task, Party, and Incident happened. These cuts were a week old when you found them,” Elena explained. I nodded, rushing forward to hug her tightly.

“Thanks Maggie,” Elena whispered softly.

“But she is making progress,” Dad insisted firmly.

“I am,” Elena agreed.

I nodded, wiping tears from my eyes.

“And no one has come here trying to –“ I began to ask, but Elena cut me off.

“Trust me, no one is going to talk to me from Slytherin anymore. You apparently scared the pants off of not only Malfoy, but Theresa Malone.”

“Theresa Malone?” I asked in confusion.

“She’s the sixth year prefect. Malfoy might scare everyone into doing what he asks, cause he’s _Malfoy_ , but Malone is actually… a leader. She doesn’t get too caught up in the pureblood stuff, but she does enough to command everyone’s respect; she is one of the best duelers in the school, apart from probably Harry and some other kids; she gets top marks in everything, but she doesn’t _always_ follow the rules; and she’s rich, which is important in Slytherin, obviously. She’s the girl you basically tackled and ordered to get Malfoy from the Common Room,” Elena explained.

I felt my eyebrows go up into my hairline.

“Yeah, she was leaving to go on Duty and you attacked her. She was really pissed, according to Claire, who found out from one of the first years who doesn’t, you know, automatically hate us or anything. She basically told everyone to grow up and stop attacking us before ‘Johnson comes in and kills us all.’ It worked more than Malfoy coming in with pee all down his front begging everyone to stop,” Elena giggled.

I grinned happily. Mum sighed heavily.

“ _Please_ stop taunting that boy, Maggie,” she begged.

“I have, actually,” I laughed, “Can’t blame me that he’s a bleeding coward.”

“I couldn’t be prouder,” Dad half-joked, his face smirking. Mum hit him upside the head and Elena and I burst into giggles.

“See? Progress,” Elena insisted once we had calmed down.

“Well, I still don’t want you leaving the Hospital Room until the doctor says its okay,” Mum insisted. Elena nodded.

Hermione looked at her watch, “Maggie, we’d better get going.”

“Right,” I agreed, “Bye Elena, Mum, Dad!”

“Good luck!” Dad called after us.

“ _Pay attention in Charms_!” Mum insisted.

“Yes, Mum!” I waved, not turning around as we sprinted down the stairs.

The next day, Transfiguration went smoothly. We all were transfiguring guinea fowl into guinea pigs; Neville’s still had some feathers, but everyone else’s looked fine. Hermione and I had actually finished early, and had spent the rest of the lesson writing notes about the animagus process, and where we were at in it. Hermione was still taking potions, but was doing fine with them; I had now transformed into an _Edaphosaurus_ and a _Dimetrodon_ , which confused me as I was going increasingly back in time, so to speak. Hermione reckoned it was because I was going to be a reptile, and in my transformations my brain was subconsciously going down the synapsid branch of the amniote tree, to back up around to the reptiles. It made some sense.

 _Of course, you thinking in terms of phylogenetic trees_ , Hermione wrote, smirking at me in a teasing way.

 _It’s the only logical way to think!_ I wrote back, grinning. Hermione was scribbling back a note when McGonagall’s voice rang out through the classroom.

“Granger, Johnson, I dare say that’s a conversation you can carry out later?”

We both looked up rapidly. Hermione flushed wildly, still not used to getting told off by a teacher; I just beamed at her.

“Sorry, Professor, just discussing our outside of class work,” I grinned cheekily. I knew she knew what I was talking about, but to pursue the subject would be to reveal it to the rest of the class. McGonagall harrumphed in annoyance.

“We can discuss that after class, then. Now that you are all _paying attention_ , I have an important announcement to make.”

Neville and Harry were sniggering behind us. I turned around and stuck my tongue out at them.

“The Yule Ball is approaching, a traditional part of the Triwizard Tournament and an opportunity for us to socialize with our foreign guests. Now, the ball will be open only to fourth years and above, though you may invite a younger student if you wish,” McGonagall explained.

I raised my eyebrows into my hairline. Hermione looked apprehensive. Parvati, Siobhan, and Lavender had started giggling in their corner of the classroom.

“Dress robes will be worn, and the ball will start at eight o’clock on Christmas Day, finishing at two in the morning in the Great Hall. Now then,” McGonagall paused, glaring around at everyone, “The Yule Ball is of course a chance for us all to… er… let our hair down. But that does NOT mean that we will be relaxing the standards of behavior we expect from Hogwarts students. I will be most seriously displeased if a Gryffindor student embarrasses the school in any way.”

The bell rang, and everyone began to pack up.

“Potter, a word. Johnson, Granger, stick around for a minute, if you please,” McGonagall urged. Neville frowned.

“Johnson and Granger will be longer, Longbottom, you can wait for Potter in the classroom,” McGonagall rolled her eyes. Neville perked up considerably.

Harry walked up to her desk as Neville, Hermione and I stood in our corner of the classroom, watching curiously.

“Potter, the champions and their partners…”

“Partners?” Harry asked in confusion.

“Your partners for the Yule Ball, Potter. Your _dance partners_ ,” McGonagall affirmed.

Hermione burst into giggles and I swatted her upside the head.

“Dance partners?” Harry asked, “I don’t… I don’t _dance_. I mean, parties in the Common Room don’t count –“

“Yes, yes you _do_ dance. Or, you will at the Yule Ball. Traditionally, the champions and their partners open the ball,” McGonagall insisted.

“I’m – not dancing,” Harry said, almost in a begging tone of voice.

“It is traditional,” McGonagall reaffirmed, “You are a Hogwarts Champion, and you will do what is expected of you as a representative of the school. So make sure you get yourself a partner, Potter.”

“But… B-But –“

“You heard me, Potter. Since you three are here as witnesses, you’ll make sure he has _someone_ to dance with, yes? Now go, Potter, Longbottom, I have to talk to Granger and Johnson,” McGonagall dismissed. Harry walked out of the room, looking terrified. Neville was snorting with laughter at his face, laughing all the way down the hall as they left.

“Now, you two, I don’t need to remind you how dangerous it is to discuss your studies in any context,” McGonagall scolded.

“We know,” we both answered in unison.

“Alright. Will you both be staying over the holidays?” she asked.

“The only time either of us haven’t was first year, and that was Hermione,” I laughed.

“And now there’s this Ball that we should probably be at,” Hermione agreed.

“If only to laugh at Harry. Oh, this will be a _lark_ ,” I was practically singing. McGonagall gave me a look and I calmed myself.

“Good, then I expect us to keep our weekly appointments. We are making good progress on both fronts, and I do not want to lose the time over the Holidays. You may go,” McGonagall dismissed. We left eagerly, grinning at each other.

“Okay, so, I’m not saying that Harry should ask you to the Ball, but I _am_ saying that if he _doesn’t_ , we need to get pictures of him dancing,” I grinned. She rolled her eyes.

“I doubt he’ll ask me. I don’t think he’s ready yet,” Hermione sighed mournfully.

“Go with someone else then. Have a good time with a friend,” I suggested.

“Like who?” Hermione looked at me. I shrugged.

“I dunno, only you know who your friends are,” I laughed.

“ _You know who my friends are_!”

I grinned, not wanting to give away Fred, “Do I? Strange.”

“ _Maggie Johnson, you tell me right now_!”

She then proceeded to chase me down the hall; me giggling all the way back to the Gryffindor Common room.

“You tell me right now!” she screeched again, tackling me to the ground. I burst into more laughter, pushing her off me in complete amusement.

“Nope!” I grinned, doing a little dance and running away. George was in the common room and he blocked me from Hermione, looking at the proceedings in bemusement.

“What the bloody hell –“ George gasped.

“Maggie isn’t telling me which _friend_ I should go to the ball with!” Hermione shrieked.

“Of course not,” I grinned, dancing behind George. Hermione shrieked again in anger and I ran around George as she ran around George, us running in circles around him.

“This is mental!” George shouted at the top of his lungs.

“Oh for the love of Merlin, it’s _me!_ ” Fred shouted from a corner. We stopped in our tracks, me so shocked that I slid on the floor and fell flat on my ass. George burst into hysterical laughter.

“You?” Hermione asked in shock.

“Yeah,” Fred was flushed bright red, “I… erm…”

The entire common room was watching in shock. Harry’s mouth was hanging open and Neville looked like he was trying hard to fight back roaring laughter.

“Erm… I rather fancy you, Hermione Granger, and you know, I think it would be brilliant if we went to the ball together,” Fred declared. It seemed impossible, but Harry’s jaw dropped open even more.

Hermione flushed completely red; the Common Room was still completely silent.

Finally, she stammered out, “S-sure, Fred, I’d love to go with you.”

I grinned madly and looked up at George, who was beaming back at me. Fred was still blushing, and Hermione was still blushing, but he awkwardly hugged her and said, “Brilliant,” before ducking out of the Common Room in embarrassment. Hermione turned to me in shock.

“How… erm… long has _that_ been a thing?” she asked in shock.

“Well, he told us soon before the First Task, but we reckon it’s been a thing since at least September, since Fred never shares details about his personal life,” George explained.

Hermione nodded, looking embarrassed, before grinning at me.

“So you’re happy about this?” I laughed.

She nodded, running over to me and whispering.

“You know, we’ve been chatting so much, and hanging out so much, I was starting to… like him a _little_ ,” Hermione admitted in my ear. I beamed widely and bounced up and down happily with her for a good minute before she ran up the stairs to write a letter to her parents, asking for dress robes.

“So, we’re going together then, yeah?” George asked me, grinning widely.

“God no,” I joked. He looke fake-offended as I laughed and kissed him happily.

Harry, however, was not having as much luck. Every time we walked through the corridors, girls around us would start giggling inssesently. Hermione was beaming happily, and I knew that no matter how much she was probably still hung up on Harry, having a guy she liked even a little like her back was boosting her confidence through the roof.

“Neville, I don’t know what to do, mate. Do you have any ideas?” Harry groaned the evening after the announcement as we sat down to dinner.

Neville looked at Harry and opened his mouth, before closing it and grimacing awkwardly.

“Oh _no_ ,” Harry groaned louder.

“What?” I laughed.

“Not you _too_ ,” Harry begged at the top of his lungs.

“You have a date?” Hermione asked eagerly. Neville nodded, flushing madly.

“ _Who_?” all three of asked in unison. Some weird feeling was creeping up in through my stomach into my throat. I didn’t like it; it made me feel practically ill.

“Erm…” Neville paused, looking at us all, “Erm… Ginny.”

“ _Really_?” Hermione gasped.

“Good for you, Neville!” Harry grinned.

All three looked at me expectantly. I didn’t know what I was feeling; it was something I had never experienced before, and I _did not like it_.

“That’s wonderful,” I managed to choke out, and in a pretty convincingly cheery voice, to boot. Neville grinned weakly at all of us.

“Yeah, we hang out a lot, and I dunno, we get along well. It’ll probably just end up being for the dance, but you never know,” Neville shrugged.

The feeling was making me want to cry. Now I _especially_ hated it.

“That’s great,” Hermione beamed.

“It is, but now I’m in trouble, because all the women in my life are accounted for,” Harry groaned, putting his hands over his eyes.

“You know what you could do,” Neville began.

“What?” Harry grumbled.

“You could ask Cho Chang,” Neville grinned cheekily. Harry’s mouth dropped open and his face turned as red as a tomato.

“Wh-what?”

“We all know, Harry,” I managed to say, still pretending to be cheerful, though I was digging my fingernails into my palms.

“Y-you, do?” Harry stammered, looking like he wanted to melt into the floor.

“Yup,” Hermione smiled, though her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes still.

“Um… do you think she’d go with me?” Harry asked nervously.

“Definitely,” I nodded.

“You’re _Harry Potter_ ,” Neville rolled his eyes.

“Any girl would be lucky to go with you,” Hermione said, now her face looking honest.

Harry blushed furiously and looked over at the Ravenclaw table, where Cho was talking to some of her friends. He visibly swallowed, stood up, and started walking over there.

“This should be good,” Neville chortled.

“I shouldn’t have drunken all that water at lunch, I’m going to pee my pants with laughter,” I managed to force out.

“Thanks for sharing,” Hermione snorted.

“Anytime,” I responded, but I was troubled. _Why am I feeling this way_?

Harry was walking up to the Ravenclaw table. He was running his hand through his hair nervously, making it much more messy, and he was shuffling his feet. I could hear a shitton of giggles coming from the table. But then –

“She’s nodding!” Neville cheered.

“She nodded!” I laughed, grinning with some happiness.

Hermione smiled, but I gently patted her on the shoulder.

Harry was grinning and he ran back over, taking his seat and smiling.

“We’re going together!” he beamed.

“That’s great, Harry,” Neville laughed.

“See? Now you don’t have to worry about it anymore,” Hermione smiled.

“What would I do without you guys,” Harry laughed.

“Probably go with someone you barely know?” I offered.

“Well, in my defense, I barely know Cho,” Harry blushed, “I just think she’s pretty.”

“Well there’s that,” Neville laughed.

“Still, it’s good to get it out of the way,” Hermione nodded fiercely.

“And now I have to actually… go,” Harry groaned, burying his face in his arms at the table.

“Worse things have happened to people,” I laughed, though I felt like there were ten thousand frogs in my throat. I did not like any of these frogs one bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm proud of myself; I'm no longer editing and still I managed to get in two chapters today. Woo! Please let me know what you think!


	37. Chapter Thirty - Six: December 12 - December 25, 1994, Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "If I traded it all 
> 
> If I gave it all away for one thing 
> 
> Just for one thing 
> 
> If I sorted it out 
> 
> If I knew all about this one thing 
> 
> Wouldn't that be something 
> 
> I promise I might 
> 
> Not walk on by 
> 
> Maybe next time 
> 
> But not this time 
> 
> Even though I know 
> 
> I don't want to know 
> 
> Yeah I guess I know 
> 
> I just hate how it sounds." 
> 
> ~ Finger Eleven, "One Thing".

Chapter 36: December 12 – December 25, 1994, Hogwarts

That Saturday, I woke up to the first snowfall of the season, the entire grounds covered in a blanket of crisp white. I had been so determinedly ignoring all of my terrible feelings from the day before throughout the night that the sight gave me more joy than I thought possible. It wasn’t quite the holidays yet, but it certainly felt like it.

I eagerly jumped to my feet and shook Hermione awake, bouncing slightly on my toes. She groaned loudly.

“ _Maggie_ , **why** ,” she muttered, looking at me and blinking furiously.

“Snow!” I grinned, “Let’s go!”

“Oh my lord,” Hermione muttered, “Alright, but we wake up everyone else, too.”

“Of course!” I laughed. I got dressed rapidly and urged Hermione to do the same, her glaring at me consistently while doing so. I then grabbed her arm and dragged her down to the third-year girl’s dorm, knocking happily. A girl opened the door, looked at us, and shouted groggily, “Ginny!” Ginny walked up to us, still dressed in her pajamas, complete with fuzzy slippers.

“Yes?” she muttered irritably.

“Maggie’s going on about snow,” Hermione sighed.

“Alright, alright,” Ginny rolled her eyes at my excited expression and went to get dressed. In a few minutes she came out, looking somewhat more cheerful.

“I am deeply looking forward to waking up the boys,” Ginny laughed. We all scampered down the rest of the girl’s stairs and back up to the boy’s dormitories, reaching the Fourth Years first.

I didn’t even knock, but leapt inside, grinning happily. Ginny ran over and pulled the blinds, and Hermione shook her head in amusement in the corner of the room. At the opening of the blinds, all five of the guys groaned, rolling over in their beds.

“Dean, Seamus, you can go back to bed if you wish, but the rest, there’s snow!” I cheered happily.

“Maggie, I’m going to bloody murder you,” Ron moaned into his pillow.

“Oh cheer up, snow is exciting,” Harry laughed.

“I’m going to murder you, too,” Ron grumbled. Neville walked over to Ron’s bed and basically threw him out of it, making the rest of us laugh.

“Neville, what the bloody hell?” Ron shouted, looking up at Neville in anger. Neville grinned cheekily.

“You heard them, get dressed!” Neville turned to the three of us, “Go wake up the twins.”

We nodded and scurried up the stairs to the sixth year boy’s dormitory. We crept in quieter this time, and I ran to George’s bed (I could only tell the difference because George had a picture of him and me on his nightstand,) and Hermione and Ginny went to Fred’s. I grinned, sitting on the side of it, peering down at George eagerly.

He was extremely cute while he slept. I watched him stir sleepily and mumble something I couldn’t make out, until he opened his eyes and looked at me tiredly.

“Wh – Maggie!” he squeaked, looking at me in shock.

“Good morning,” I squeezed my eyes shut with the width of my smile.

“Bloody hell! Give a bloke some warning!” George muttered, pulling the covers up around his bare chest. I grinned. I could hear Fred swearing at Ginny and Hermione next to me.

“There is snow on the ground outside and I insist on playing in it,” I was still beaming like a cartoon character.

“Bloody hell,” George repeated, though he was smiling at me. He pulled me in for a kiss and I giggled into it, hearing Ginny and Fred (probably not Hermione) distinctly gag behind me.

“This is inappropriate!” Fred said, “Ginny, cover your eyes! _Protect the innocence of the children_!”

“Oh bugger off,” George stuck his tongue out at Fred while Hermione and I giggled. Ginny rolled her eyes.

“I was possessed by You-Know-Who at age eleven, I have no innocence. Let’s go!” Ginny grinned.

“Way to be a buzzkill, Ginny,” I stuck my tongue out at her.

“You woke me up at eight o’clock in the morning!” Ginny retorted.

“Don’t extend the favor to others,” Lee grumbled from his bed.

“Alright, we’re getting up. Come on, Freddie,” George grunted, “You girls leave. Let us preserve our dignity!”

I laughed out loud but left willingly with Hermione and Ginny, walking back downstairs to the Common Room. I looked outside at the snow and smiled happily; clearly aware I was desperately trying to ignore things that I hadn’t yet wrapped my head around

The boys more or less shuffled down in unison, some grumbling (Fred, Ron), some smiling (George, Neville, Harry).

“Maggie, you owe me,” Fred groaned.

“Nah,” I beamed.

“I second that motion,” George laughed.

“You both are wankers,” Fred rolled his eyes. We all started heading out of the Common Room.

“Want to see if Elena can make the trip?” Harry asked happily.

I frowned. The last time I had tried to include Elena, I nearly killed her.

“It’s not the same anymore, Maggie. You put the fear of God into Malfoy, you know that,” George soothed into my ear.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” I nodded, “Let’s go then.” We changed course as a group, heading to the Hospital Wing.

“I hope she’s doing better,” Hermione sighed.

“Me too,” Harry agreed.

“I’m sure she’s making progress. She has so much help,” Neville reassured. We reached the Hospital Wing and I knocked softly on the door.

“Just a minute!” my mum called. She came over and opened the door, looking at the sight in amusement.

“May I ask what this is all about?” she smirked.

“Can Elena come and play in the snow with us? It’ll do her some good, Mum, please,” I begged.

Elena walked over, looking healthier than even the last time I had seen her a few days ago. She looked around at all of us and then at Mum.

“Can I go, Mum? I’ll be under their supervision the whole time. Claire can even come, too, and make sure I’m alright,” Elena asked.

Mum sighed, “Oh, alright. You’ve been cooped up in here for ages anyway.”

Elena’s face broke into a wide smile, “I’ll go get dressed and eat something. I’m not ready to go to the Great Hall yet. You guys let Claire know, yeah?”

“Definitely,” I beamed, and we all headed down to breakfast again.

“We’ve got to stop traveling in a pack,” Ron grumbled.

“Why aren’t you hanging out with Dean and Seamus more, anyway?” Fred questioned.

“How dare you question our traveling methods,” George joked.

“I’m affronted,” Ginny agreed.

“Simply appalling,” Neville shook his head in mock disgust.

“You’ve come into our lives, questioned our honor,” Harry chortled.

“It’s so rude, I just, we raised you better than this Ron,” Fred shook his head.

“If you _must_ know, I can’t tell you. Dean and Seamus are… doing something,” Ron sighed.

“Doing something,” Hermione repeated skeptically.

“That is literally the least descriptive phrase in the English language,” I sighed.

“It could be anything. Have they taken up knitting?” George asked.

“Are they breeding blast-ended skrewts now?” Neville joked.

“Oh my god, they’re poisoning the breakfast food,” Harry mock-gasped as we sat down at the table.

“Oh shove off you lot,” Ron rolled his eyes as he bit a piece of toast vigorously.

“I’m going to go tell Claire,” I suggested, giving George a parting kiss and hopping off to the Slytherin table. Claire looked up from her newspaper at me and smiled somewhat.

“What’s up, Maggie?” she asked. The rest of the Slytherin table pointedly ignored me.

“Elena is going to come with us to play in the snow. She wants you to come, to make sure she’s okay; you know, yet another pair of eyes,” I explained, “We’re going after breakfast.”

“Sounds fun,” Claire smirked, “Sure. I’m almost done here so I’ll go and get her and bring her down soon. Meet by the lake?”

“Sound good,” I smiled, “See you,” and I walked back over to the Gryffindor table. Ginny was standing with a blonde girl in Ravenclaw robes.

“Maggie, this is Luna,” Ginny beamed, “My friend from my year. Luna, this is Maggie, surely you’ve heard of her.”

“Yes, I have,” Luna smiled, “I’ve seen her around, too.” She had a breathy voice, and earrings made of acorns, which was moderately bizarre.

“Good to meet you,” I smiled, sitting back down and eating some food.

“Come back over when you’re done with breakfast, yeah?” Ginny asked. Luna nodded and skipped back over to the Ravenclaw table.

“Isn’t she, you know, Loony?” Ron asked, his mouth filled with food.

“She is a very nice girl, Ron, she’s just a little eccentric,” Ginny snapped angrily.

“Whom among us _isn’t_ eccentric?” Neville laughed.

“Me,” Ron claimed.

“Oh that is a filthy lie,” George chortled.

“You’ve been eccentric since before you could walk,” Fred agreed.

“We would know, we were there,” George rolled his eyes.

“All _right_ ,” Ron muttered irritably.

“At any rate, I’d appreciate if you were all nice to her, you know, since she used to be one of my best friends, and it’s for _you_ lot that she’s not,” Ginny rolled her eyes in annoyance.

“Don’t worry, Gin, we’ll be perfectly accepting,” I nodded.

“We have two Slytherins joining us, our little group can be diverse,” Harry laughed.

“Here’s to the addition of a Ravenclaw,” George held up his glass in a toast.

“Oh god, we’re becoming a clique,” Hermione groaned, holding her face in her hands.

“One for all,” Fred chanted.

“And all for one!” George cheered.

“You guys are dorks,” I rolled my eyes.

“But you love me,” George hissed in my ear. I beamed up at him happily.

“I do,” I grinned. He kissed me, and everyone around us blanched again.

“Oh shove off, you wish you could be this cheesy,” George stuck his tongue out at everyone.

“Yes, that’s the dream,” Neville rolled his eyes.

“To have someone to be cheesy with,” Ginny giggled.

“And make everyone around you gag,” Harry laughed.

At about that time we all had finished eating, so we got up and started heading down to the grounds. We reached the lake, and I immediately collapsed into the snow, making snow angels happily.

“Who’s going to help me with the snow person, then?” Neville laughed.

“I’m in!” Ginny responded cheerfully, and the two of them began rolling up giant balls of snow.

“Hermione, come on, the lake is frozen,” Harry urged, “Remember the skate charm you figured out last year?”

“Of course!” Hermione laughed, and the two of them immediately started skating.

“Oi! I want in!” Fred demanded.

“Right,” Hermione blushed and she put skates on his shoes as well, and the three of them began skating around each other.

George, meanwhile, had collapsed on the snow next to me. Ron went and decided to help Ginny and Neville with the snow person.

“Having fun?” George asked, grinning. I nodded, sitting up and beaming at him.

“Hi guys!” a voice called out. I looked up to see Luna walking over to us, with none other than Sam Lee.

“Sam? What are you doing here?” I asked in surprise.

“Luna dragged me,” Sam muttered.

“Sam and I have been friends for ages!” Luna beamed, “I wanted him to have fun for once and not spend all of his time reading in his room.”

“I also practice art,” Sam grumbled.

“Yes, and you’re getting _very_ good, but you haven’t been outside in ages,” Luna shook her head, “Is this okay?”

“Yes!” Ginny called from the distance, where she was climbing a tree.

“What the bloody hell are you doing?” I asked, laughing.

“Finding the perfect sticks for the arms!” Ginny retorted.

“You’re a witch! You have a wand!” George snorted.

“Logic means nothing to me!” Ginny shrieked as she reached out and grabbed two twigs, “Got it!”

“Oooh, ice skating!” Luna gasped, “I’m coming!” Luna also apparently knew how to conjur skates onto trainers; she immediately joined Harry, Fred and Hermione on the lake, skating up to them happily.

Sam grumbled and walked over to the tree and sat below it with a sketchpad, immediately beginning to draw on it.

“Wonder where Elena and Claire are,” I asked worriedly.

“Here we are!” an Irish voice called out. Claire and Elena walked over to us, Elena smiling weakly.

“Come on, Elena,” I grinned happily, “Let’s make a snow dinosaur to eat the snow person!”

“Oh god, again?” Elena laughed.

“Yes, but this time we have _wands_. It will look _real_ ,” I beamed.

“I am all for this plan,” George grinned.

“Hell, so am I,” Claire grinned.

“I guess I’m overruled,” Elena rolled her eyes, “Alright.”

We all immediately started gathering snow and pilling it up. We shaped it carefully, making sure to sculpt the legs with the utmost care, to allow it to balance.

“I want this authentic,” I dictated, “We’re talking life sized _Allosaurus_ with the proper posture.”

“We’re going to need to use magic for it to stay upright, you realize,” George grunted, waving his wand to get snow to go up to the head.

“It’s worth it!” I laughed.

“I am covered in snow, standing underneath the hypothetical genetalia of an _Allosaurus_ , and trying to magic snow onto its tail,” Elena grumbled. It was a very amusing site, though she had color in her cheeks that I hadn’t seen in ages, and a smile on her face that seemed genuine.

“I will not apologize for art!” I grinned, walking over to her and waving my wand to help her levitate the snow onto the tail.

“Oh bloody hell,” I heard Sam groan from the tree. We all looked at him in surprise.

“ _Fine_ , I’ll help,” Sam got up; rolling his eyes, and walked over. He levitated snow onto the back, neatly putting it in place.

“Why the change in heart, Lee?” George asked.

“My fingers were getting cold,” Sam muttered. I burst into peals of laughter and Sam rolled his eyes at me.

Eventually, the masterpiece was complete, and it towered over the snow family that Neville, Ginny, and Ron had made.

“It shall eat the people!” I cackled madly.

“You are terrorizing our snow people!” Neville joked, but he was grinning.

“Is that really how big those things got? Wow,” Ron commented.

“This isn’t even the biggest predator, there’s _Giganotosaurus_ and _Spinosaurus_ and – “ but I was cut off by Elena.

“Oh my god you literally are incapable of change,” she laughed.

“Oh please give her a break, dinosaurs are awesome,” Sam muttered. I looked at him in shock.

“What? I needed to occupy myself as a child. My aunt is boring. I spent the time reading about dinosaurs,” Sam shrugged, “You know, Ron, predatory dinosaurs were actually a lot smaller than the biggest dinosaurs. Those were the ones with long necks, the sauropods. They got to be bloody _enormous_.”

“Can we make one of those tomorrow?” Ron laughed.

“Is there… enough snow?” I asked, looking around madly.

“We’ll go to the other side of the castle, and all pitch in,” George grinned.

“ _A new masterpiece_ ,” I breathed.

“I admit, the challenge is intriguing,” Sam paused, looking at me, “ _Argentinosaurus_?”

“Go big or go home,” I grinned.

“Is that the biggest dinosaur?” Hermione asked, walking over to us with the other skaters.

“I think so,” Harry rolled his eyes, “Is this happening tomorrow, then?”

“You know it,” I beamed.

“The crazy things we do with Maggie: a novel, by me,” Neville laughed.

“Chapter one: How much snow are we going to need,” Fred joked.

“Oh shush, this is going to be brilliant,” I laughed as we all walked back into the castle.

Building the _Argentinosaurus_ the next day went surprisingly well; the twelve of us worked together relatively flawlessly, easily delegating jobs and assigning tasks. The thing was life sized and enormous, easily noticeable from all angles of the castle.

McGonagall called me into her office shortly thereafter and had the most torn expression on her face.

“I do not know whether to be unbelievably amused or unbelievably furious,” she finally explained, looking at me and shaking her head.

“What? There are no rules against building this sort of thing,” I grinned cheekily.

“No, but we’re trying to impress our foreign guests! Surely you’ve seen the increase in Christmas décor?” McGonagall asked.

It was true; the castle looked more gorgeous than I had ever seen it.

“Nothing says Christmas like giant archosaurs,” I laughed. McGonagall groaned loudly and waved me away with her hand.

The end of term went by in a flash; the final day saw Elena’s triumphant return to her studies in the castle, making us all stand up and clap as she entered the Great Hall. Even Sam and Luna joined in, Sam looking mostly amused with himself for being a part of such shenanigans. Elena, who hated having attention drawn to her, glared at all of us, but rolled her eyes and joined Claire at the table. There was literally no reaction by the rest of the Slytherins, who just ignored them.

“Ignoring is better than literally anything else that could have happened,” I cheered joyfully.

Indeed, the week leading up to Christmas also went by rapidly. The only thing anyone talked about was the Ball; not a single person was able to discuss anything else.

“So I asked Luna to the Ball,” Ron stated dully. We all looked at him in shock.

“ _Really_?” Ginny asked in amazement.

“Mostly because I haven’t got a bloody date, and I reckon she’ll be interesting,” Ron shrugged.

“Well she’ll be delighted, I’m sure she didn’t think she would be able to go,” Ginny beamed.

“So Fred is going with Hermione, you’re going with Luna, you’re going with Neville, Harry’s going with Cho, I’m going with George,” I paused, “That’s everyone, right?”

“Claire and Elena can’t go, and why would they want to; I guess that leaves… Sam?” Ginny asked hesitantly.

“He’s still a loner, Ginny,” I frowned, “I doubt he wants to go.”

“Are you kidding?” a voice rang out behind me. I turned around to see Sam smirking at me.

“I am decidedly going alone, and I will decidedly be laughing at everyone,” Sam rolled his eyes, “Give my antisocial tendencies more credit.”

“You’re right, I apologize,” I smirked.

“I do admit, the _Argentinosaurus_ was fun,” Sam paused, “You’re alright.”

“I seriously am taking this as the highest of praises,” I grinned.

“Don’t let it go to your head. I’d better go make sure Luna isn’t stealing radishes to make earrings out of again,” Sam groaned, heading over to his table.

“Luna is a lovely girl, but she _is_ very eccentric,” Ginny sighed.

Christmas Day came all too soon, and I woke up in a daze of excitement and nervousness for the upcoming event. I looked to see a moderate pile of presents on the foot of my bed as usual, and grinned happily before reaching for them.

“Oh! I have a gift from Fred!” Hermione gasped. I grinned cheekily at her and she was flushing madly.

“Do you like him?” I asked cheekily. She flushed even more and made mumbling sounds before opening the gift.

“Wow,” she breathed, pulling out a book on the history of house-elves, “This is amazing.”

“Is it biased?” I asked curiously.

“ _Dear Hermione_ ,” Hermione read aloud, “ _I recognize this book was written by an English wizard, but I felt like you should read what the other side thinks in a language other than legalese. You know, so you can argue with wankers who don’t understand basic personhood. Enjoy, Fred_.” Hermione was blushing furiously. 

“Well then,” I grinned, and Hermione buried her face in her pillow as I pulled out my gift from George. When I opened it, I found a necklace inside – it was exceedingly simple, with a small turquoise gem hanging from it.

“Bloody Hell, George,” I whispered, “How much did you spend on me? I _told_ you not to spend that much.”

Hermione managed to remove herself from the pillow, and gasped, “That’s gorgeous.”

“I really hope he didn’t spend that much,” I muttered.

“Well how much did you spend on him?” “Hermione laughed.

“I… erm… _may_ have bought him the Nimbus Two Thousand and Two,” I admitted.

“Isn’t that _also_ a lot of money?” Hermione grinned.

“Yeah, well, my Dad managed to open a new location in Glasgow, and Mum got a huge raise with her promotion, so my allowance increased dramatically,” I mumbled.

“Just appreciate the present. Wear it tonight, it’ll go with your dress,” Hermione smiled. I blushed furiously and went to open another gift.

“Thanks for the book on animagi, Hermione,” I laughed, opening hers next.

“I should say the same to you,” Hermione held up the identical book that I had bought her. We both started laughing loudly.

“Well it _is_ the only animagus book I could find that wasn’t in the library,” I grinned.

“Same!” Hermione beamed.

From Ginny I had gotten a book on advanced bow hunting techniques; from Harry I received a t-shirt with various birds on it; Ron had actually gotten me some toffees and a note saying _Thanks for not telling anyone_ ; Neville had gotten me a very large book on reptilian anatomy; my mum and dad had gotten me new arrows for my bow and replacement strings, as well as a polishing kit; Hagrid had gotten me a calendar with different dragons as the pictures; Fred had gotten me kazoos that would play the most annoying melodies all of their own accord; and Elena got me some seeds to grow elaborate flowering plants from the Amazon. Hermione and I then quickly got dressed and headed down the steps to wait for our other friends.

George came down fairly soon and ran to pick me up from the ground, spinning me around happily.

“Oi! Put me down!” I shouted in amazement.

“Thank you thank you thank you!” he laughed in my ear.

“Bloody hell, you’re welcome!” I shrieked, “Let me down!”

George squeezed me tightly but then did so, beaming at me happily.

“Your gift was much too nice, by the way,” I smirked at him.

“I want to give you pretty things, is this a crime?” George stuck his tongue out at me.

“No, but still,” I kissed him softly, “Thank you.”

Soon after, Fred came down, and Hermione thanked him for the book shyly.

“Well thank you for the pranking potion ingredients,” Fred beamed, and the two began talking to each other about their gifts. I grinned at George, who grinned back at me.

“I honesty did not think that was going to work out for him,” he hissed my ear.

“Stranger things have happened,” I laughed. Harry and Neville walked down then, as did Ginny.

“Maggie!” Neville called out happily. I looked at him with a smirk.

“Your gift was _wonderful_ , thank you!” Neville gasped, “I already read the first few pages and – just – I think I know how to extract what I need now, thank you! Or at least, I will once I’ve read the thing.”

“Anything to help,” I grinned.

“What did you get Neville, then?” George asked, laughing.

“Two books, one a muggle university level textbook on botany, another an introductory book on organic chemistry,” I smiled, “So he can extract the compound that causes curse protection in his leaves.”

“That’s actually a really great present,” George chuckled, “I just know if you had got _me_ that I would have thought you were mental.”

“Well of course, you and Neville are drastically different people,” I rolled my eyes, “Let’s go to breakfast.”

We spent most of the day enjoying each other’s company, playing elaborate games of charades, goofing off in the common room, enjoying the magnificent lunch in the afternoon, and having elaborate snowball fights in the snow. Sam, Luna, Claire, and Elena joined us for that again; the twelve of us then dividing into teams.

“Alright, we need to divide the Weasleys evenly,” I stated grimly.

“Oh come on,” Ginny whined.

“Definitely not fair if you’re not,” Harry laughed.

“So there are four Weasleys. Each team, thus, gets two Weasleys. The twins are _not_ on the same team, got it?” I continued.

“Alright, but on that note, Maggie, you can’t be on the same team with George,” Neville grinned.

“And why ever not?” George asked, looking affronted.

“You will either help your team by being well too coordinated or hinder it by being all… cute,” Neville rolled his eyes, “And Maggie can’t be on a team with Harry for the same reason that Fred and George can’t be on a team.”

“So, we have a team definitely of Fred and Maggie, and then one definitely of George and Harry,” Elena nodded.

“Well, I would like to be on Ginny’s team,” Luna smiled, “Just in case there are Wrackspurts, you know. I’m very good at spotting them for her.”

“What is a Wrackspurt?” Hermione asked in confusion.

“Let’s… _not_ talk about that now,” Ginny shook her head madly, “Anyway, alright, Luna and I will be on someone’s team, then.”

“Here, you guys can be with Harry and me,” George offered.

“Hermione, you and Neville can join us,” Fred offered.

“I’ll go with you guys, too,” Ron offered.

“I’ll join Luna,” Sam insisted.

“Oh no,” Elena groaned.

“Don’t make _us_ split up,” Claire laughed.

“It’ll be good for you?” I offered.

“You are both small, mischievous, and quite frankly, nearly as attuned to each other as either of our twin sets,” Ginny shook her head, “You gotta split.”

“I’ll go with Harry,” Elena laughed.

“Guess I’m with Fred and Maggie,” Claire nodded.

“Great. Everyone, split!” Ginny ordered. The two teams split up, going to either side of the Grounds. We immediately formed a giant snow pile to serve as a fort, which did not take long; we then all crouched down behind the snow.

“Alright,” Fred paused, “I know my brother’s weaknesses. We have a clear plan.”

“What?” Hermione asked, smirking.

“We distract him with Maggie,” Fred nodded.

“Oh _come on_!” I cried.

“It’s a foolproof plan. We distract him, we take out one of their most valuable players,” Fred shook his head.

“There’s still Ginny,” Neville pointed out.

“With George taken out, we can all focus our efforts on Ginny,” Fred explained.

“Harry?” Ron rolled his eyes.

“Leave Harry to me,” Fred stated grimly.

“Watch, Luna is going to become an asset, just wait,” I muttered.

“Don’t count out Elena, either,” Claire insisted. We all looked at her questioningly.

“That girl is _fast_ ,” Claire shook her head, “She can run faster than anything I’ve ever seen. It’s all _your_ fault,” she pointed at me, “For dragging her into the woods and her having to run away from danger all her childhood!”

“Running fast comes in handy in life!” I responded defensively.

“Well, then, Claire, your job is to keep a lookout for the speeding bullet. Everyone has their goals?” Fred asked.

We all nodded. Neville was having trouble holding back giggles.

“Are you ready?” George called from across the field.

“Yes!” Fred answered.

“One!”

“Two!”

“THREE!” both shouted in unison, and everyone charged from around their mounds, gathering up snow and throwing it at each other. I immediately ran to George and danced around him.

“Oh no you don’t! You will not distract me!” George shouted, tearing his eyes away from me and running forward. I shrieked in determination and leapt up onto his back, tackling him to the ground.

“Bloody hell!” he shouted into the snow. I laughed happily and smushed snow into his hair.

“Oh my God get off of me!” he groaned in the snow as I sat on top of him, gigging madly.

“I WILL RESCUE YOU!” Harry shouted behind me, and before I could react I was being bombarded with snowballs, forcefully removed from George’s back. I shrieked and got up, sprinting away as quickly as I could, practically flying across the snow as I ran a loop around the entire proceeding. I slid in the snow like one of those muggle American baseball players, scooping up a ball of it and turning around to fling it at Harry behind me. He grunted in surprise as I hit him in the face and I laughed, running away to go and join Neville, who was being pelted by Ginny.

“I’ve got this!” I shouted, grabbing a snowball and throwing it in the back of her head.

“Oh you’ll pay for that!” Ginny laughed, and the three of us pelted each other madly, snow flying back and forth.

The snowball fight went on for hours, but eventually we all grew to be absolutely freezing, and the dance was coming up soon. Hermione basically had to drag me away at six o’clock, explaining that we needed to get ready. Ginny followed us, waving goodbye at everyone else, who stayed to continue playing.

“Why in the name of Merlin do I need two hours to get ready?” I grunted in annoyance.

“Because we’re going to actually have fun doing girly stuff for once,” Hermione insisted.

“Oh this’ll be good for you,” Ginny giggled.

“I’m going to murder the both of you in your sleep,” I moaned. We got up to the dormitories and I struggled to put my dress robes on; they were in brilliantly shimmering turquoise, much like the gem on my new necklace, and they flowed down neatly to my feet. Hermione’s robes were in a more periwinkle blue color, and were made of a gossamer material, where as mine was more substantial and thick.

“This thing is impractical,” I muttered in annoyance.

“That _thing_ is traditional,” Hermione laughed. Ginny then appeared, dressed in robes of bright green, which were somewhat shorter than ours to show her calves. She beamed at us and sat down on my bed.

“Come on, Maggie, I’ll do your hair,” Ginny offered, pulling out her wand. There was a lot of pulling and twisting and teasing, but eventually it was curled (a feat), and twisted into neat braids on the back of my head that were then tied together in a bun. Some stray hairs fell from it, but it actually enhanced how nice it looked.

“See? Your hair _can_ exist in states other than pony tail or down,” Ginny teased. I stuck my tongue out at her.

“What are _you_ doing, then?” I asked.

“Oh just curling it. My hair is so short it’s hard to do anything with it,” Ginny shrugged. It was true; her hair only went down to just above her shoulders. She sat down, pointing her wand at it, and curling it.

Siobhan, Parvati and Lavender entered at this point, all giggling in their corner of the room and working together on their appearance. Meanwhile, Ginny and I worked together with Hermione to help tame her giant bush of hair, straightening it, basically pouring potions on it, and pulling it up into a high, admittedly gorgeous bun.

“That,” Ginny gasped once we had finished, “Is what we call magic.”

Hermione beamed at us, “Now, I’m going to do something my parents will _not_ approve of, but I learned it from Madam Pomphrey.”

“What?” I asked, chortling. She pointed her wand at her rather beaver-like front teeth, and shrunk them – to what would be considered normal sized.

“Your parents are going to kill you,” I laughed, “What about straightening them the muggle way?”

“I don’t see anything that needs straightening,” Hermione grinned mischievously.

“Are you just taking this opportunity to correct things?” Ginny laughed.

“Just the teeth. Did you see how much work my hair took?” Hermione shook her head.

“I believe I was there for that,” Ginny rolled her eyes.

“I dunno, I can’t feel my hands,” I teased.

“Anyway, no, just took the opportunity to fix my teeth. Ready?” Hermione asked. We all nodded and headed downstairs together, finding the Gryffindor guys all sitting around the fire, milling about. In fact, nearly every member of the house above third year was there, chatting amicably.

Harry turned around to see us and his jaw visibly dropped open. I stuck my tongue out at him in amusement, but both Hermione and Ginny had turned red as tomatoes.

 _Bloody hell, you two_ , I thought in amusement.

George got up and ran to me, pulling me into a kiss that surprised me and made my heart flutter madly.

“You look beautiful,” he whispered in my ear. I blushed and looked at him. His dress robes seemed a normal, black color; he had on a pinned, turquoise flower as well.

“You look handsome,” I countered, trying to not feel too awkward in the clothes and the setting.

“Well, er, Ron and I should go get our dates. See you all later,” Harry waved, and the two of them walked out of the common room. Ginny and Neville were deep in discussion about something, and Hermione was laughing with Fred.

Suddenly, coming down from the Gryffindor boy’s dormitory, were Seamus and Dean. They were both dressed nicely, but their dress robes matched, which was a bit odd. And then I saw that they were holding each other’s hands.

“ _That’s_ what Ron was talking about!” Hermione gasped.

I grinned at them as they walked over to me, both looking embarrassed and scared.

“Do you think we can pull this off, Maggie?” Dean asked. I nodded eagerly.

“Are you kidding? You two look awesome,” I beamed. Seamus flushed horrifically and dragged Dean away, looking horrifically embarrassed.

“How is this _not_ surprising,” Fred laughed.

“I get the feeling this evening will be full of surprises,” I chuckled.

“We should be heading out, then?” Hermione asked. I nodded and poked Neville in the shoulder. He and Ginny were sitting extremely close to one another, chatting softly, their heads close together.

“Oi! We’re going!” I tried to not sound too irritable. Neville laughed and grabbed Ginny’s hand, and we all started walking down together.

When we got there, Luna was dressed in bright purple robes, with elaborate jewelry all over. Her pale skin was flushed happily and Ron looked moderately disgruntled.

“Where’s Harry?” I asked curiously as we all converged outside of the Great Hall.

“He had to line up with the other Champions. He won’t be sitting with us, either; he’s got to sit up at the main table,” Ron explained.

We all watched as the champions lined up to go inside. At the head of the procession was Effi, accompanied by a tall, muscular boy with a large nose, who I figured was from Durmstrang, as I had never seen him before in my life. Effi looked as uncomfortable as I felt in her orange dress robes. Behind her was Matteo, with a seventh year girl from Hufflepuff I only knew by sight on his arm; she was extremely thin, with dark skin and black hair, usually in an afro, that had been pulled back into a bun, and shorter, white dress robes. Behind him was Angelina, looking beautiful as ever, with her dreadlocks arranged in a very neat plait down her back, and wearing red, poofy dress robes. She was with Lee Jordan, and his hair was actually matching hers, which made me chuckle. And finally, Harry was last in the line, looking awkward; Cho next to him looked extremely pretty, with her long silver dress robes that had elegant sleeves dangling from her hands. Her hair was done up in an elegant bun that neither Hermione nor I would ever have been able to pull off.

Music started somewhere, and the champions and their dates started to process into the Great Hall; the professors followed them, and then the rest of us were allowed to enter, shuffling into the Hall neatly.

“Alright, well, we should get a table then, eh?” George asked. I nodded and we sat down at the closest one we could find. Fred and Hermione, Neville and Ginny, Ron and Luna, and Sam came to sit with us, leaving three empty chairs. Dean and Seamus walked over to fill two of them, both still looking unbelievably nervous. The empty seat next to Sam loomed dangerously.

“Let’s all form a prayer circle,” Sam rolled his eyes, “For no one to sit in that seat.”

 Luckily, a Hufflepuff girl grabbed the chair and dragged it to a nearby table, using it to sit with her own friends. Sam looked visibly relaxed, now, looking around at the proceedings in amusement.

“People watching is my past time,” he explained when he saw I was watching him.

Meanwhile, Harry had sat up at the top table with Cho, sitting next to Mum and Dad. Dad had a mischievous looking his face, and I knew he was about to mercilessly torture Harry in front of Cho. Bagman was also there, as well as all the professors, Karkaroff, and Maxime. Madame Maxime was actually sitting next to Hagrid, and I hoped that at the very least he was enjoying himself.

Menus appeared in front of us, and up at the front table Dumbledore demonstrated the proper method of ordering food by looking at his menu and then shouting his choice of food at his plate.

Everyone at our table began ordering their food, and I tried to eat my haggis without getting it all over my dress robes.

“Could you have picked a messier food?” Hermione giggled next to me, and I stuck my tongue out at her.

“Aren’t you upset about all the extra work for the house-elves?” Neville asked curiously.

Hermione shrugged, and then began chatting with Fred about Quidditch, which was more surprising to me than anything that had happened yet that day. I turned to George myself, not entirely sure what else to do.

“You really do look amazing,” George grinned at me.

“As do you,” I laughed, “Erm, so, do you like the broom?”

“Haven’t had a chance to look into it yet, but it’s top of the line, only outstripped by the Firebolt. I really am excited to try it out soon,” George beamed, “It’s so great, thank you.”

“Is it going to be awkward, you and Fred having different brooms?” I laughed.

“We’ll make it work,” George chuckled, kissing me on the top of the head. I giggled a little and continued to eat. Neville and Ginny nearby were talking about something – I couldn’t quite make it out, and frankly, I didn’t want to make it out.

 _You’re just upset because Ginny still likes Harry, and you don’t want Neville to be taken advantage of_ , I justified to myself, poking at my food.

 _But Neville knows that Ginny likes Harry_ , my brain reminded me, _it’s hardly taking advantage if he knows the whole situation._

 _Then why am I so… whatever this is_? I thought to myself, now stabbing a piece of meat and forcing it into my mouth angrily.

“You alright, love?” George asked. I nodded, blushing furiously.

“Yeah, just… confused,” I admitted.

“Got a mystery to solve?” George grinned.

I looked over at Neville and Ginny chatting about whatever they were chatting about, their faces close together again, and looked back at George quickly, “Something like that.”

Soon enough, the eating was over, and the champions were all going out onto the dance floor to dance as the Weird Sisters began playing in the back of the Great Hall. Harry was revolving slowly with Cho Chang, and he looked exceedingly awkward, though I was proud to see he wasn’t stepping on Cho’s toes. Cho herself looked happily around at everyone, and was often looking at Harry with eyes that made me feel like he was getting seduced or something. We all watched for a while until Dumbledore and McGonagall walked out onto the floor, the two of them dancing and officially opening up the ball to the rest of the guests.

“Come on,” George urged eagerly, pulling me out of my chair and onto the dance floor. I put my hands on his shoulders, and he put his on my waist, and we began rotating around slowly, him leading me in a very graceful sort of waltz.

“Learned this with Fred,” George explained, “Neville watched too.”

“You’re kidding,” I laughed. Nearby, Fred and Hermione were doing as similar dance, and Neville looked more coordinated than I had ever seen him, elegantly leading Ginny around the dance floor.

“Yeah. He’s actually better at it than we are,” George blushed, “Don’t let on.”

I laughed loudly and rested my head on his shoulder, happily closing my eyes as we swayed along the dance floor. Ron, Luna, and Sam were still at the table, and they appeared to be people watching together, all chatting amicably and pointing at certain things. I heard Ron laugh loudly at one point, and I saw that Sam was smirking proudly, as though he had made the joke of the century. After a long while, Dean and Seamus left them and got up to dance, nervously sticking to a corner of the dance floor, Dean spinning the much shorter Seamus around neatly.

Eventually, the song ended, but soon another one started up again. George beamed at me and we kept dancing, and I did enjoy how close I was to George, and how nice it felt to be spinning around with him, and how rough and course his hand was in mine. It was a faster dance, and so George spun me around faster, and I giggled despite myself, slowly growing more accustomed to the dress robes and the atmosphere, though I still didn’t particularly like it.

After quite a few songs, I felt exhausted, my feet starting to hurt a little from all the dancing in those pointy shoes.

“Can you get me some punch, George?” I asked, smiling at him and giving him a kiss. He nodded and walked off, me going to sit down next to Sam.

“Enjoying the people watching?” I asked, massaging my foot gently.

“Oh yes,” Sam nodded, “Everyone’s a blundering buffoon. It’s the best.”

“I count at least twenty drunk people, and the number’s growing,” Ron grinned.

“I do love all the icicles, though they could be filled with Vladpurs. You know what those are, right?” Luna asked breathily. We all shook our heads.

“They’re small, invisible creatures that live in large quantities of ice, and they make you get cold headaches. It’s really quite nasty. We should be watching out for them,” Luna explained matter-of-factly.

I looked over at Sam questioningly and he just shook his head, rolling his eyes in amusement. Ron looked positively delighted at the ridiculousness of Luna’s claim, however, and the two were now talking about Vladpurs.

“Ron makes it worse by encouraging her,” Sam muttered in annoyance.

George returned then, handing me punch and drinking his own. I smiled at him in thanks and we sat down, talking quietly about the dance while drinking our punch.

Eventually we got up and back to dancing, and I still enjoyed it immensely, though now that I was getting tired I was getting a little sillier, and often would just kiss George incessantly on the dance floor. George wasn’t complaining, however, and he would kiss me back, in what could only reasonably be called public displays of affection. Hermione and Fred were actually nowhere to be found after a while, which concerned George.

“I just don’t know where they would have gone off to,” George grunted, spinning me around and then pulling me back to him.

“Oh if you want to find out just go look for him,” I laughed, “I don’t mind.”

“You could come too, you know,” George grinned.

I looked pointedly down at my feet and then back up at him. George rolled his eyes but nodded in understanding, giving me a parting kiss and running out of the hall. I walked back to the table to see that Harry was sitting there, chatting with Sam.

“What’s up, Harry? Where’s Cho?” I asked curiously, sitting next to him.

“Oh lord, I just managed to shake her off,” Harry grunted.

“You’re _kidding_ ,” I laughed.

“Nope,” Sam shook his head; “Apparently she’s got the same number of interesting conversational topics as a flobberworm.”

“She’s obviously very intelligent, but I have been bored out of my gourd the entire evening,” Harry groaned, “It’s a nightmare.”

“Well, at least you had a date with her and know, now,” I reassured.

“Yeah, I suppose,” Harry groaned. Ginny and Neville walked over to all of us, Ginny positively beaming and sitting down next to me.

“Oh I’m _exhausted_ , Neville is such a good dancer, I’m so impressed,” Ginny grinned. Neville blushed sheepishly, shuffling his feet.

“Where’s George? Or Hermione?” Harry asked.

“George is looking for Fred and Hermione. It’s okay,” I shrugged, though now I was starting to get bored sitting there.

“Well…” Ginny looked at me for a minute, “I could dance with Harry, and Neville could dance with you, if you’re bored.”

Ginny knew me, and the face I got when I was uninterested with my surroundings, a little too well.

“Oh, all right, if Harry and Neville are cool with it,” I rolled my eyes. Harry shrugged, and Neville nodded, and I got up and let Neville take me out to the dance floor, putting his hand on my waist and his other hand in mine. I felt my heart rate speed up exponentially, increasing the amount of confusion settling in my brain a million fold.

“So, having fun?” Neville asked me, smiling down at me. I nodded.

“Yeah, you?”

“Course,” Neville paused, “Ginny’s great.”

“As is George,” I agreed, “Do you, erm, like Ginny?” The frogs were back in my throat as I asked the question.

“A bit, yeah,” Neville flushed, “I mean, she still fancies Harry, more than me, and I… erm… I fancy someone else more than her, so we might date a little, but we’ve already agreed its nothing serious, you know?”

It was as though ten thousand _Argentinosaurus_ had been lifted from my chest.

“Oh yeah, I get that,” I smiled, “Still, having fun is important.”

“That was our thought, yeah,” Neville laughed, twirling me around and bringing me back to him before dancing around more. The song turned into a slow one, and I found myself resting my head on his chest – why was he so much bloody taller than me – and hearing his heartbeat. It was going like the galloping of hippogriffs.

Then again, so was mine.

“So, who do you fancy?” I asked teasingly, trying to cover up whatever the hell was going on with me with humor. Neville shook his head, rolling his eyes.

“Come on, Maggie, you know I don’t tell people that,” Neville chuckled.

“Can you give me a hint?” I grinned cheekily, looking up into his milk chocolate colored eyes.

“Eh, I’ve fancied her for _ages_ , and she has no bloody clue. But I’m okay with it,” Neville paused, “Honestly, at this point, I’m so used to the status quo that changing it would give me a heart attack or something.”

I laughed appreciatively, though I was confused. Who could he have fancied for ages?

“How are things with you and George? Better than the last time we talked about it?” Neville asked. I nodded.

“Oh yeah, loads. He’s actually been really good about everything,” I beamed.

“Oh good,” Neville looked visibly relieved. I cocked my head to the side curiously.

“I just… I don’t want to see you hurt. I really don’t,” Neville shrugged, “You’re my best mate, and if you get hurt, I get hurt.”

I nodded in understanding, “Yeah, so tell Ginny not to hurt you, yeah?”

Neville laughed, “Right.” The look in his face was one that was both familiar and not. It made my heart pound even faster than it had been.

I rested my head on his shoulder again, his words ringing in my ears. _If you get hurt, I get hurt_. The look on his face – it was like the look that George often gave me, and yet somehow more.

The frogs were in my throat again, but now my mind was whirring, moving too fast, going at breakneck speeds. So many thoughts were swimming through my mind that I couldn’t pick one of them out of the stream and concentrate on it, or even process it.

“So I think I’m going to apply this one type of extraction technique to the leaves,” Neville offered.

“Oh?” I asked, unable to say anything more.

“Yeah, I’m going to use this one method that was described pretty early on, it seems to be a basic technique, though I’m going to need Sprout to help me with all the beakers,” Neville continued. I listened to him explain carefully, somewhat squeezing his hand despite myself, unable to not enjoy the look of joy in his eyes as he talked about his plants, and his work, and his breakthroughs.

“What about you? How have things been going in your research to help your Gran?” Neville asked suddenly, pulling me out of my reverie.

“Oh, right,” I answered, “Well, I’ve been finding out more about the unpublished discovery, though its all so covert I feel sort of like a spy,” I explained, my heart trying to leap out of my chest, “But the hind limb wings do seem to be legitimate. I want to get my hands on the specimen, but I’ve been distracted with other things and haven’t tried.”

“What other things?”

“Just, another project McGonagall has me on,” I answered truthfully, “For her own work.”

“Ah, how’s that going?” Neville beamed down at me.

“Oh fine. We’re making progress,” I continued honestly. We had gone down now in the family tree to _Eocasea,_ then _Seymouria, Diadectes, Brazilosaurus,_ and _Concordia_. I was clearly making my way up to the reptiles.

“That’s brilliant,” Neville smiled, “I’m so proud of you.”

I looked at him and smiled, “I’m proud of you, too.”

The song drew to a close as we said this, looking at each other. I felt myself flush excessively.

“Erm, I need to go the bathroom,” I excused myself hurriedly, running off through the corridors to the toilet. I stood in front of a sink, holding the rim and breathing heavily.

_Oh, my god._

My mind was whirring out of control, and I felt myself slide to the floor to sit down. I stared up at the ceiling of the lavatory, completely overwhelmed with everything that had just happened.

 _All right, Maggie. Make a list. You need a list, or else you’re never going to come out of it,_ I thought to myself, _or else you’re going to drive yourself mental._

I stared at the door to the bathroom stall and focused on it, trying to slow down my breathing.

_One. Neville fancies you, and he’s fancied you for ages._

I remembered the valentine second year, and Neville’s face when I joked that someone would have to be mental to fancy me. I groaned out loud, hitting myself angrily in the forehead with my palm.

_Two. Neville more than fancies you. Neville is in love with you._

The look in his eye whenever we eagerly discussed animals or plants; the way he caught me when I turned into a tiger in Defense Against the Dark Arts; the look on his face when I got back from going into the forest second year; every single way he had ever interacted with me, practically since first year.

_Three._

Three was the one I was having the most trouble admitting to myself. I spent a full five minutes trying to get the thought to come through my head.

 _Three. You fancy… no… you’re also in love with Neville_.

I groaned again and held my head in my hands. Fighting the basilisk with him in second year and being equally aware of his whereabouts as my own and the snake’s; trying desperately to rescue him from Sirius third year despite all logic dictating that I let go; the feeling I got deep in my stomach whenever we talked about plants or animals; the fact that he was the third person I saw dead with the boggart.

_Four. The way you love Neville is drastically different than the way you love George._

This was the most heartbreaking of the revelations. I loved Neville much, much, _much_ more than George. I was just too much of a _complete,_ and _utter idiot,_ to have seen it. It was distinctly different. This was an emotion that filled every corner of me, from the tips of my fingers down to my toes, to every single corner of my brain. I hadn’t realized it – I hadn’t even thought of it – because this feeling, this emotion, it wasn’t just something I had added on, like with George; something that grew because I got to know him better, because I had let him in. No, this feeling had come all at once, it had been instantaneous. It had been a part of me from the very moment I met him, probably: an integral part of my soul. I was Maggie Johnson. I loved dragons, birds, dinosaurs, and pterosaurs; I was bloody brilliant at transfiguration; I was angry almost all the time; I belonged outside more than I did inside; I hated being feminine and I was so bisexual it was hilarious; I wanted to change the world; Very little in this world actually scared me; I would stick by my brother to the end; I cared about my friends and family more than I did myself; and I was in love with Neville Longbottom.

I groaned loudly and tried my hardest not to cry.

_Now what?_

The answer was clear in my head. It was only logical. I would stay with George. I had committed to him, that’s what being in a relationship _was._ And there was nothing wrong with our relationship in the slightest; I did love him, he loved me, and we worked well together.

I nodded determinedly to no one but myself. I loved George. I just realized how I had always felt about Neville. But that changed nothing.

I got up and walked up to the door, but I heard voices on the other side. I listened carefully, not wanting to intrude on anyone else.

“Severus, you cannot pretend this isn’t happening!” the cruel, gruff voice of Karkaroff whispered outside the door, as though he did not want to be overheard, “It’s been getting clearer and clearer for months. I am becoming seriously concerned, I can’t deny it –“

“Then flee,” Snape answered him, his voice much louder, “Flee, I will make your excuses. I, however, am remaining at Hogwarts.”

I heard their footsteps lead away from the door, and I frowned in puzzlement. _What_ was becoming clearer?

I realized I had been in the bathroom for ages. I took a deep breath and opened the door, walking back out into the corridor and back towards the Great Hall. It was getting late, and the dance was winding down. I saw George leaning against the entryway.

“Where have you been?” he asked, smiling.

“Oh, I had to go to the loo,” I answered. He frowned at me, however.

“You look like you’ve been crying,” George observed.

“Nah,” I shrugged, “Do you want to dance one more time?”

“Not particularly,” George paused, “Guess where Fred was?”

“Where?”

“ _Snogging_ with _Hermione_. Hermione! They were snogging! And enjoying themselves!” George laughed.

“You’re kidding,” I grinned, “Well, I’m happy for them.”

“Me too, but Merlin, I was _not_ prepared to see that. Anyway, I can take you back to the Common Room if you want.”

“Thanks George,” I smiled and gave him a kiss.

The one flaw in my plan was that I had to act like absolutely nothing was different.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh man I've been waiting for this chapter for obvious and clear reasons. Shit is going to go DOWN. I hope you guys enjoyed, and please let me know what you think!


	38. Chapter Thirty - Seven: December 26 - January 16, 1994 - 1995, Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Free frame on me 
> 
> Mmm, can you read it on my face? 
> 
> Data mining from old memories 
> 
> Sunflowers and a smile catching 
> 
> Mmm, welcoming a heartbeat to the family 
> 
> Light tie lanterns, wish bound in the night 
> 
> Who? What? When? 
> 
> All in one stir of a teaspoon 
> 
> I'm shaken and gasping for air 
> 
> Lifeline, before and after 
> 
> In an instant of great white gravity 
> 
> Hold tight, 'cause all is against me 
> 
> Every cell in my body, brace, and keep breathing 
> 
> Keep breathing." 
> 
> ~ Imogen Heap, "Lifeline".

Chapter 37: December 26 – January 16, 1994 – 1995, Hogwarts

I woke up the morning after the ball staring up at the ceiling.

 _I tell no one about this_ , I thought determinedly. No one needed to know about my private revelations. Not Hermione, not Ginny, not Harry, certainly not Neville, and _decidedly_ not George. No, it was best to keep this under wraps, and try not to act differently around Neville.

I groaned a little and rolled over in my bed, burying my face in my pillow. The castle was quiet; usually I would hear people milling about downstairs, and the sounds of students on the grounds; the dance must have exhausted everyone beyond belief. I looked over at my watch, and saw that it was already eleven in the morning; I forced myself out of bed and into jeans and the shirt that Harry had given me yesterday. But beyond getting out of bed and getting dressed, I had no idea of what to do next.

“Maggie!” a voice hissed from the doorway. I looked up to see Hermione waiting for me there.

“Oh good, you’re awake. I’ve been waiting for you, yesterday Fred and I overheard something, we wanted to tell you,” Hermione explained.

I swallowed heavily. This was already nearly impossible.

“Alright, alright,” I agreed, following her out of the dormitory down to the Common Room.

“So we were, erm, sitting on a bench,” Hermione began.

“Snogging,” George added, coming up to me and giving me a quick kiss.

“Anyway, yeah, we were there, and we overheard _Hagrid_ and _Madame Maxime_ talking,” Hermione continued, blushing furiously.

“The short story is this,” Fred interjected, walking up behind Hermione and wrapping his arm around her shoulder, “Hagrid is _half giant_!”

“You’re kidding,” I gasped, “Well, it’s not _that_ much of a surprise, I guess.”

“Yeah, his mum was a giantess,” Hermione paused, “I dunno what all the fuss is over it, though. Not all giants can be horrible; it’s just another prejudice. Like with werewolves!”

“You’re probably right,” I agreed. Fred looked bemused but didn’t say anything.

“You know what else?” Hermione asked. I looked at her in puzzlement.

“We should probably start hounding Harry about figure out what the clues mean,” Hermione sighed. I groaned out loud.

“Hermione, he is _not_ going to like that.”

“Of course he isn’t, but February twenty-fourth is coming closer every minute,” Hermione paused, “If we don’t hound him about it, it could be really bad.”

“Alright, alright,” I agreed, “Let’s just be nice about it, okay?”

Hermione rolled her eyes skeptically but nodded. I then gave George a kiss in farewell and went down to have a late breakfast, sitting down by myself at the table and glopping oatmeal into a bowl.

“You doing alright, Maggie?” a voice called behind me. I jumped in my seat, sending my oatmeal everywhere, and turned to see Neville standing behind me.

“Oh Merlin, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you, here,” Neville offered, cleaning up the oatmeal and grabbing me another bowl. I flushed horrifically and tried to hide it from Neville with my hair. There was something about waking up this morning that made me feel practically hung-over, though I hadn’t had any alcohol during the ball.

“What are you doing awake this late?” Neville asked cheerfully, sitting across from me as I began to eat my oatmeal, “You didn’t even stay for the whole ball. You missed Ron and Luna doing this really whacky dance, it was hysterical.”

“I wasn’t feeling well,” I admitted. It was true. Everything had made me nearly sick to my stomach.

“I could tell, you sort of ran out of there like a bat out of hell,” Neville frowned, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright,” I paused, “I feel a bit better this morning, I guess.”

“That’s always good,” Neville paused, smiling, “I think I’m going on a date with Ginny this weekend.”

“That’s great,” I smiled, though my heart was twisted up in the tightest of knots.

“Yeah. Like I said last night, it’s just for fun, but still,” Neville shrugged, “You never know. And can you imagine? _Me_ with a girlfriend. Me!” Neville beamed.

“I’m very happy for you,” I smiled a little wider, though now I was clutching my fingers against my palm.

“Anyway, I’m here this late because I was helping Sprout. Some of the spell blocker plants were releasing this weird gas and she wanted me to try and figure out why. Still haven’t, and I nearly choked on it. It smelled like rotten eggs! But I’ll probably go back in the afternoon. Don’t tell Hermione, I promised her I’d bug Harry about the second task,” Neville laughed.

“I won’t,” I smiled slightly, “I’ll even do it for you.”

“You’re the best,” Neville beamed. The knots in my heart tightened.

“Thanks,” I rolled my eyes, “Sorry, I’m just very grumpy.”

“It’s totally fine. I should get going, at any rate,” and he got up and left to the Greenhouses.

Truth be told, soon I couldn’t really focus at all on my new problems of emotion. All the homework our professors had assigned over the holidays was now unavoidable, and I spent almost every day behind a pile of books, trying to get through mountains of reading, essays, and figures. Harry, on top of it, was hunched over his scroll every day with Angelina, the two of them muttering and discussing them with one another, both with identical looks of confusion and upsetness on their faces. Hermione had progressed to the wand waving stage of the animagus transformation, and was constantly practicing under our table in the library, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible. When term finally resumed, Harry still had yet to figure out what the task would consist of, and now was getting antsy.

Out of everything that had happened at the Ball, only a few things stuck. Luna and Sam hung out with us on a regular basis when we weren’t in the Common Room. Hermione and Fred were now dating, and often were seen walking through the hallways holding hands. Ginny and Neville were also dating, and doing the same, though I tried not to look at that too much. Dean and Seamus were out to the school, but mostly spent their time trying to not draw attention to it. Harry had completely lost interest in Cho Chang, who seemed hurt by the way the evening had proceeded; however, he was so focused on the second task that he barely wasted thought on the issue. I was so overwhelmed with schoolwork (learning Hebrew was particularly hard), that George couldn’t tell that anything was different about me.

However, our first Care of Magical Creatures lesson, we were faced with a woman who was decidedly not Hagrid. We all stared at the woman in shock as she urged us to hurry up into Hagrid’s yard.

“Who are you, then?” I asked in shock, “Where’s Hagrid?”

“He is indisposed,” the woman answered, “I am Professor Grubbly-Plank, and I will be temporarily filling in for him until he is once again available for teaching.”

I looked at her in shock and surprise as Pansy Parkinson giggled maliciously behind me. I turned around and glared at her, following this woman down around a paddock. Behind it, there was a large, beautiful unicorn tethered. Lavender, Parvati, Siobhan, and Parkinson all gasped at the sight. Hermione, Neville, Harry and I all looked at each other in worry.

“Boys, now, keep back, unicorns prefer the woman’s touch,” Professor Grubbly-Plank instructed. I looked in surprise and back at Neville and Harry, who shrugged. Hermione and I got into the back of the line, behind Parkinson.

“What the bloody hell is wrong with Hagrid?” I hissed in Hermione’s ear. She shook her head in worry.

“Oh, he’s just too ashamed to show his face,” Parkinson simpered in front of us.

“What are you on about?” I grumbled.

Parkinson just laughed cruelly and reached up to pet the Unicorn. Hermione shook her head in equal confusion as she took her own turn.

I didn’t care much for the unicorn, but true to form it appreciated my touch. I walked away in confusion, facing Parkinson angrily.

“Tell me, what the bloody hell happened to Hagrid?” I snarled.

Parkinson shrugged with a smirk and pulled out a newspaper article, handing it to me in amusement. I practically ripped it from her hands as Harry, Neville, and Hermione crowded around me to read it.

**DUMBLEDORE’S GIANT MISTAKE**

**Albus Dumbledore, eccentric headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, has never been afraid to make controversial staff appointments, _writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent._ In September of this year, he hired Alastor “Mad-Eye” Moody, the notoriously jinx-happy ex-Auror, to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts, a decision that caused many raised eyebrows at the Ministry of Magic, given Moody’s well-known habit of attacking anybody who makes a sudden movement in his presence. Mad-Eye Moody, however, looks responsible and kindly when set beside the part-human Dumbledore employs to teach Care of Magical Creatures.**

**Rubeus Hagrid, an aloof character who refused to sit down with this reporter for an interview, is rumored to have been expelled from Hogwarts in his third year. Since then, he has enjoyed the position of gamekeeper at the school, a job secured for him by Dumbledore. Last year, however, Hagrid used his mysterious influence over the headmaster to secure the additional post of Care of Magical Creatures teacher, over the heads of many better-qualified candidates.**

**An alarming large and ferocious-looking man, Hagrid has been using his newfound authority to terrify the students in his care with a succession of horrific creatures. While Dumbledore turns a blind eye, Hagrid has maimed several pupils during a series of lessons that many admit to being “very frightening.”**

**“I was attacked by a hippogriff, and my friend Vincent Crabbe got a bad bite off a floberworm,” says Draco Malfoy, a fourth-year student, “I and many others quit his class in disgust. We’re too afraid to say anything, so we choose to not take the class instead.”**

**Hagrid apparently has not learned a lesson from the drop in his class’ attendance. This _Daily Prophet_ reporter witnessed for herself the creatures his class was caring for; so called Blast-Ended Skrewts, they appear to be a dangerous experiment in breeding. **

**“He thinks they’re funny,” Pansy Parkinson, another fourth-year Hogwarts student, comments, “But we’ve all gotten pretty bad stingers. Frankly, I think we could die.”**

**As if this were not enough, the _Daily Prophet_ has now unearthed evidence that Hagrid is not – as he has always pretended – a pure-blood wizard. He is not, in fact, even pure human. His mother, we can exclusively reveal, is none other than the giantess Fridwulfa, whose whereabouts are currently unknown. **

**Bloodthirsty and brutal, the giants brought themselves to the point of extinction by warring amongst themselves during the last century. The handful that remained joined the ranks of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and were responsible for some of the worst mass Muggle killings of his reign of terror.**

**While many of the giants who served He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named were killed by Aurors working against the Dark Side, Fridwulfa was not among them. It is possible she escaped to one of the giant communities still existing in foreign mountain ranges. If his antics during Care of Magical Creatures lessons are any guide, however, Fridwulfa’s son appears to have inherited her brutal nature.**

**In a bizarre twist, Hagrid is reputed to have developed a close friendship with the boy who brought about You-Know-Who’s fall from power – thereby driving Hagrid’s own mother, like the rest of You-Know-Who’s supporters, into hiding. Perhaps Harry Potter is unaware of the unpleasant truth about his large friend – but Albus Dumbledore surely has a duty to ensure that Harry Potter, along with his fellow students, is warned about the dangers of associating with part-giants.**

I couldn’t believe what I had just read. The redness was growing in my vision again, so large that I was shaking from head to toe. I had crumpled up the newspaper in my hand and it was practically dust with the force of my grip on it. Parkinson looked absolutely terrified.

“Shit,” Harry whispered behind me.

“Grab her!” Hermione urged. I lunged for Parkinson’s throat, screaming my head off, as Neville and Hermione grabbed my arms from behind and held me back, everyone shouting over each other.

“Maggie, no!”

“Come on, she’s not worth it!”

“Calm down!”

“Bet you don’t really have the guts to kill someone, huh, Johnson?”

I was wildly thrashing against my friends, but Parkinson’s words made my head snap up, my eyes focusing on her angrily. I hissed at her and she laughed dismissively, walking away with a jaunt in her step. I continued growling under my breath, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to catch her, and I relaxed. The three let go of me, audibly breathing with relief.

“Maggie, hurting her is not going to help anything,” Harry gasped, rubbing his arms. I appeared to have, in my blind rage, nearly pulled his shoulder out of its socket.

I hissed in irritation, though I logically knew he was right. I clenched my jaw, flexed my fingers, and stomped back down the hill towards Hagrid’s hut. I could hear the other three scurrying to follow me. I walked up to the door to the hut and banged on it loudly. Fang was barking eagerly from inside.

“Hagrid, open the god damned door!” I roared. No, I actually roared; my voice was louder than I had ever heard it; it was practically the same volume as the Hebridean Black in the forest. But Hagrid did not exit his hut, or appear to make any sound within it. I hissed in anger and left again, not even looking back at my friends, so overwhelmed with anger and confusion I was unable to focus on anything. I sprinted into the forest, running as fast as my feet could carry me.

I used to be quite a slow runner – but since I started taking the potion I had gotten much faster, making me think that whatever I was going to be, I was going to be fast, which eliminated a good number of reptiles. At any rate, I ran and ran and ran, my feet pounding into the ground, my cloak billowing behind me as I went deeper and deeper and deeper into the forest. The twigs and branches on the trees scratched me, and the bramble on the ground gouged me, but I didn’t care much. I just kept running, feeling my pony tail bounce on my back, not even pausing a beat as my sweater got caught on a branch and tore a gouge in my arm. I just kept running.

I was so deep in the forest that I couldn’t see anything around me. I looked around for a moment, wondering if I had gotten too close to spider country; I then shrugged and kept going, running even deeper into the forest, deeper than I had ever been before. I wasn’t even losing steam, which was surprising, as I wasn’t the most physically fit person. It was hard to run when your boobs were constantly bouncing up into your face, but for some reason it didn’t bother me today. It just felt good to practically be flying between all the trees. I bobbed and weaved among them, sliding down a hill deftly and continuing on, so amazed by my continued progress that I just kept going to see if I could at this point. There were plenty of sounds, growls and roars and things of monsters in the forest. But I could outrun them. Or at least, I _felt_ like I could outrun them, and that was enough.

Eventually, the trees started to thin; the light began to grow. I headed towards it, pushing myself further, though my legs were starting to protest now. I sprinted as fast as I could and managed to reach the edge of the forest, running through the underbrush out to a field on the other side.

I began panting at last, keeling over on my knees. Something about stopping had reminded my body that I was only human, and whatever animal that was clawing inside me to get out wasn’t quite there yet. I breathed heavily and clenched my teeth, straightening up and walking around in circles before collapsing to the ground.

Staring up at the clouded sky, I could tell that I hadn’t taken much time to do that at all. It must have still been lunch. But I wasn’t ready to go back yet. I sat up, leaning on my knees, looking into the grass quietly. I didn’t quite know where I was; what _was_ on the other side of the forest? But I chose to not do much about it. I was here, and I knew how to get back, and that was what mattered.

In fact, as I stared out over the grass, I saw that there were large mountains rising in front of me; I must have been on the side of the castle protected by the countryside from muggle view. I looked up at the mountains and idly wondered if I could climb them, before shaking my head.

_You’re crazy, Johnson. You are bona-fide insane._

I sighed and groaned, running my fingers angrily through my hair.

_Pull yourself together. You can’t keep acting like this._

I gritted my teeth angrily, growling softly to myself at my inner monologue.

 _Being in love with Neville is this much of a shock? The signs have been there from the very beginning. You have always deeply cared for him. This is just you growing the fuck up about it_.

I looked up at the sky. What did I want? Did I still want to be with George?

_You chose George in your third year. That’s what happened. Neville gave you plenty of signs that he cared for you. Whether consciously or subconsciously, **you chose George**. _

My thoughts weren’t all that convincing, however. How could I trust my subconscious when I was such a complete dunderhead about this sort of thing? Still, there was no logical reason to leave George. None at all. I sighed, staring out at the mountains, as though they would hold some sort of answer. The anger at everything was bubbling up in me again as I thought about how much Hagrid would enjoy staring at these mountains with me. I screamed at the top of my lungs, the sound echoing off the mountains and through the entire valley that held Hogwarts and Hogsmeade, so loud that it rang repeatedly in my ears. I closed my eyes tightly, took a deep breath, and stood up again.

I turned around and saw that a starling was perched on a branch above me. I looked up at it, watching it glisten iridescently in the light. The bird looked back at me curiously, and I pulled out my wand. Muttering to myself, I waved my wand, remembering the incantations that Gran had told me.

The bird, apparently unaware that anything had happened to it, opened its jaw to sing. Sharp, little, pointed teeth greeted me. I laughed aloud, unable to help myself, and waved my wand again, muttering under my breath, hoping I was remembering Gran’s instructions correctly. The bird yelped, startled, as its tailbone grew, and its tail lengthened out to a fan behind it. I beamed happily, jumping up and down slightly in place. I finally waved my wand again, and the bird suddenly had tiny sickle claws on its feet, replacing some of the normal toes.

The bird cawed madly, still bemused with its tail. I giggled uncontrollably and watched it happily as it looked at the tail. It then looked at me and cawed loudly.

“Oh shush, you’re fine,” I smirked, holding out my arm. The bird leapt from the branch and landed on my arm, chirping madly. I gently pet the back of its head, and put it down on the ground, watching curiously to see if it would walk.

Surprisingly, the bird’s shock at its tail was short lived. It began walking around, not quite like a bird, but not completely different either; its gait changed, and it began to stalk forward more slowly, its head bobbing backwards and forwards elegantly. It then chirped and flew back neatly into the trees.

“So _that’s_ what they would have walked like,” I murmured eagerly, clapping my hands together, “Oh, I cannot wait to tell Gran!”

I looked down at my watch. Arithmancy had started and was now close to being finished. I could tell, despite the clouds, that the sun was getting low, and soon I would be unable to see my hand in front of me in the forest. It would be dangerous to wait much longer to return. I took a deep breath, looked at the forest, and took off running again.

Getting back wasn’t fueled by anger and fear like going through had been, so it went a little slower; I was a little more aware of my surroundings. However, having been through it once, I wasn’t as scared as I would have been otherwise, swiftly running through the forest, up the hills in the forest, following the pathway I had basically bulldozed. It was a useful plan; though I did get scratched by some branches again, running as quickly as I could so I could get to the grounds by daylight.

Finally, I came to a halt outside of Hagrid’s hut, breathing heavily again and leaning against it. I looked up at the castle and the now night’s sky, terrified of going back into the school after whatever I had just pulled. I knew the one person I could trust to not care, scold, or punish me was inside of the hut I was leaning against. My mum and dad would have yelled; Harry would have begged me to work out my anger issues; Neville would have fretted over me going into the forest; Hermione would have scolded me; and everyone else would do a mixture of these things. But Hagrid, Hagrid was understanding. I knew exactly what Hagrid would say.

_Oh, well, yeh know, we all gotta let it out som’how. Yeh just can’ control it, Maggie. ‘s in yer nature, I expect. Yeh don’t yell at a dragon for bein’ a dragon. Here, have a cuppa._

I let out a strangled sob over why anyone would try and defame that man, before getting up and going back to his door. I knocked again incessantly, Fang audibly barking inside again.

“I’m coming in whether you like it or not, so you better be dressed!” I yelled, before forcing the door open. Hagrid was hunched over at his table, clearly drinking too much of something, visible tears raining down into his beard. In fact, his hair looked extraordinarily messy.

“Mag’,” Hagrid hiccupped, “Yeh sho- yeh sho go.”

“No,” I responded fiercely, sitting down across from him, “You are letting this cow get to you. And I understand, what she wrote was horrible. Any normal person would let her get to them. But you know what? What she wrote was bloody nonsense.”

Hagrid looked at me skeptically.

“Those guys left your class because Buckbeak escaped and Malfoy looked like a fool, not cause anything we were doing was dangerous. And yeah, these Skrewts are a bit dodgy, but you don’t mean anyone harm, and I’m learning a lot about how to deal with dangerous animals. You are lively, and fun, and you have been a mentor to _so many students_ , Hagrid. Remember how many people cheered when you were given the teaching job?” I asked. Hagrid harrumphed.

“We love you, Hagrid. We do. We all know we can count on you to accept us how we are, no matter how we are,” I reassured, “Do you really think we wouldn’t extend that courtesy back to you?”

Hagrid was weeping more now, but I knew what I said had struck a chord. I got up and went to hug him. My arms couldn’t wrap all the way around him, but I squeezed tightly anyway, resting my head against his arm.

“I love you, Hagrid. Who cares what that devil says?” I whispered.

Hagrid sniffled heavily, but patted me gingerly on the back.

“Thank yeh, Maggie,” he responded, though he still looked despondent. I took the mead away from him, sticking it in my rather ripped up bag.

“I don’t want to see you drinking anymore,” I stated calmly, “I’ll be coming by every day to make sure you aren’t. If you’ll excuse me, I’m looking for the rest of your alcohol.” I managed to find loads of it in some cabinets, and I quickly gathered up all the bottles. They wouldn’t fit in my bag, so I took the liberty of pouring each one of them – including the ones in my bag, for good measure – out the window. The outside stank like alcohol, but it was worth it.

“Now, I don’t expect you to be ready to come outside or anything,” I frowned at Hagrid, “So you just take your time to come to terms with this, alright? Take your time. Sort out your feelings. I will be here every day for dinner, to check up on you.”

“Thank yeh, Maggie,” Hagrid repeated, “I… I don’ deserve any o’ it, o’ course.”

“Yeah, you do,” I shook my head, “Stop that.”

Hagrid hiccupped again, but nodded.

“Yeh know, Maggie,” Hagrid mumbled, “Yeh remind me o’ me, yeh know.”

“Yeah?” I asked, sitting down across from him now and scratching Fang behind the ears.

“Yeah… yeh got this side tha’ people jus’ don’ understand, do they? But yeh keep fightin’. Yeh won’ let the world tell yeh what to be, what who yeh are means yeh will be. Yeh don’ let anyone stop yeh from bein’ _you_ ,” Hagrid emphasized, “An’… An’ I’m goin’ ter go back ter doin’ the same. Soon, any way.”

“Good for you Hagrid,” I hugged him again, “I should go back up into the castle, now, before my friends have conniptions. You will be alright?” Hagrid nodded. I patted him on the shoulder and left, walking up to the castle. The air was windier than when I had gone into the hut; the movement of air stung my arm, and I realized that I had a truly frightening amount of blood on my arm and robes. I groaned at what I knew my friends would say as I hurried into the castle.

I reached the Common Room soon enough, walking in to see nearly no one there, which surprised me. Only a few second years milled about, taking advantage of the disappearance of my friends by sitting next to the fire. At the sight of me, they all immediately stood up, but I waved them back into the chairs while rolling my eyes.

I went up to the bathroom in the girl’s tower and cleaned off the cut, wrapping it up with a bandage. I then muttered, “ _Reparo!_ ” under my breath at my robes, stitching them back up and managing to remove a lot of the little tears here and there. I then walked back down the steps, expecting to see my friends there, but there was no sign of them. I frowned in confusion, now feeling worried, and I walked out of the Common Room and through the corridors. I checked the library; they weren’t there. Dinner had ended, but I checked the Great Hall anyway; no one was inside. I frowned greatly, wondering where else they could be. I thought about checking the Maurader’s Map, but there was a chance Harry had it; instead, I headed up to Dumbledore’s office.

I had no idea what the password was. I stood outside the gargoyle on the second floor, shuffling somewhat.

“Erm… I need to see Dumbledore?” I asked. The gargoyle didn’t move. I groaned.

“Please?” I begged. The gargoyle still didn’t move. I looked around madly, and then headed off for my next best bet – McGonagall. I headed up the Grand Staircase, running off to her office, banging on the door quietly.

“Come in!” she called. I walked inside and she looked at me with surprise.

“Miss Johnson! We’ve been looking everywhere for you,” she gasped.

I pursed my lips together before responding, “Ah.” It made sense now.

“Where _have_ you been?” McGonagall demanded.

“Erm… running,” I answered.

“Running _where_?” McGonagall furthered suspiciously. I groaned.

“In… the Forbidden Forest,” I admitted.

“You ran into the Forbidden Forest?” McGonagall screeched.

“I ran through the Forbidden Forest,” I explained.

“ _Through it?_ ” McGonagall gasped.

“Yeah. All the way through. Came out on the other side in a field, the mountains were,” I made a gesture with my hand, “Right there.”

McGonagall looked torn between being impressed and being furious.

“Means whatever animal I am, it’s fast, right?” I offered, hoping to distract her from her anger.

“Yes, that’s very – no, do _not_ distract me Miss Johnson!” McGonagall yelled, “That was _extremely irresponsible,_ and against the rules of this school!”

“I was angry,” I responded simply.

“You don’t just get to break school rules because you are _angry_!”

“No, but I couldn’t really control my actions, could I? It was either rip Parkinson’s throat out, or run. Really, you should be proud,” I shrugged.

McGonagall groaned in exasperation.

“A week’s detentions, Miss Johnson, and let’s make no more of that. Please don’t do it again,” McGonagall paused, “I think we should go and find your friends. They’re very worried about you.”

“Where are they?” I asked hurriedly.

“Searching the grounds, I expect!” McGonagall shook her head in exasperation, “Come on, then.”

We walked out to the Grounds, searching for my friends extensively, though in the dark it was hard to find hide or tail of them. McGonagall finally sighed heavily after a good half hour of searching.

“Did any of them _see_ you go into the Forest? When they came asking if I had seen you, they all _acted_ like they had just seen you on the grounds; but your little family is notorious for covering for each other, Miss Johnson, and I want you to be aware of that notoriety,” McGonagall scolded calmly.

“Erm… Neville, Harry, and Hermione saw me, yeah,” I groaned.

McGonagall swore, which made me gape at her in shock. She stalked off to the woods, wand held aloft now as she approached the edge of the woods. I followed her rapidly, holding out my own wand and peering into the darkness.

“I do not wish to disturb Hagrid, but this isn’t a job for me,” McGonagall explained mournfully. I frowned, and then ran back to the hut, entering it quickly. Hagrid looked at me, startled, as I looked at him apologetically.

“They’re all out in the forest – my friends – Hagrid, they went looking for me,” I begged. Hagrid immediately got up, grabbing his crossbow, Fang following him as he left the hut. He walked over to Professor McGonagall, wordlessly entering the forest. McGonagall and I followed, her not even questioning my presence as we walked into the woods.

“Alright,” McGonagall paused, “How do we go about this?”

“See there? Tha’ must be Maggie’s path,” Hagrid pointed, “If they ha’ any brains, they woulda followed tha’.”

“Well the fact that they are in here greatly disproves your initial premise,” McGonagall scowled.

“C’mon,” Hagrid grunted. We followed my old path through the forest, exploring and calling out for them worriedly. It was going a lot slower now, and I realized exactly how big the forest was, and exactly how completely mental it was that I had managed to run all the way through. We walked for ages, looking around everywhere, but there was little to no sign of them. I was so worried I had begun to wring my hands in terror. My body was shaking with fear, and I was already blaming myself so horrifically that I wanted to run away and never, ever come back, so that I would stop hurting the people I cared about.

McGonagall finally noticed I was sobbing and stopped in her tracks. She raised her wand in the sky, sending up brilliant red and gold sparks that lighted like a fireworks show. The sparks pointed down to us with an arrow, serving as a beacon for the entire surrounding area. I looked around wildly and hopefully, searching the darkness for any sign of them.

Finally, I opened my mouth and screamed at the top of my lungs, any creatures that could find us be damned, “HARRY! HERMIONE! NEVILLE!”

There was some moderate rustling in the brush, but no one came. I took a deep breath and tried again, “GEORGE! FRED! GINNY!” The rustling continued, but I swallowed and looked at McGonagall. She shrugged wordlessly, and I took the deepest breath I could.

“ ** _HARRY POTTER_** _!_ ” I screamed as loud as I possibly could, using every bit of energy I had within me, the sound so loud that a large cloud of birds rose up from the trees and flew into the sky.

“Maggie?” a voice in the far distance screamed. I recognized it instantly as Neville.

“ _NEVILLE! NEVILLE, I’M OVER HERE!”_ I shouted, jumping up and down with joy. I ran towards the sound, which definitely was off of my pathway, Hagrid and McGonagall following.

“Maggie?” Neville called again. I could tell he was closer.

“NEVILLE, FOLLOW MY VOICE,” I urged. We kept moving towards each other, shouting at the tops of our lungs, and finally I saw him in the distance. He was tripping over branches, but stumbling towards me nonetheless.

“Neville!” I shouted, tears coming to my eyes in joy as I ran out towards him. I basically tackled him to the forest floor, holding him tighter than what was probably appropriate.

“Mr. Longbottom,” McGonagall shouted, “Do you realize how reckless you’ve been?”

“Someone had to find Maggie!” Neville grunted as I managed to pull myself together, and climb off of him, blushing furiously with complete embarrassment.

“She came back to the castle on her _own_ , Mr. Longbottom, quite alright by the looks of it,” McGonagall shook her head madly, “Where are the rest of your friends?”

“They, uh,” Neville stammered, “They all went back already. ‘Bout an hour ago, I suspect.”

“ _Why_ , may I ask, did you not go with them?” McGonagall snapped.

“I couldn’t… erm… I couldn’t leave Maggie out here,” Neville explained.

“Well, we’ve been looking for you lot for three hours,” McGonagall grumbled, “If you had just stayed in the castle, or better yet, have been honest with me about where Miss Johnson had gone in the first place, none of this would have happened.”

Neville looked ashamed of himself, staring down at his shoes.

“And yet, you acted exceedingly brave,” McGonagall paused, “I know the forest has never been an easy location for you. For that, I award you fifteen points for Gryffindor.”

Neville looked up in complete shock, his mouth hanging open.

“And a week’s worth of detentions,” McGonagall finished. Neville closed his mouth, though his mixture of embarrassment and shock seemed to have rendered him without a prime emotion.

“Let’s go back. I wish to go to sleep,” McGonagall sighed. Hagrid began leading the way, following the path I had basically bulldozed trying to get to Neville. The thought sent me into fits of embarrassment again.

“Erm, thank you for looking for me,” I mumbled.

“Of course I did,” Neville answered, “I was so unbelievably worried about you. _Please_ never do that again.”

“Yeah, I won’t,” I reassured, though I couldn’t tell if I was being completely honest with that answer, “Who… erm… who came looking for me?”

“Nearly everyone,” Neville explained, “Hermione, Harry, Ginny, the twins. Ron was supposed to keep a lookout for you in the Common Room, but I guess he didn’t see you.”

“Ah,” I frowned, “Everyone stopped looking? Even George?”

“Yeah, I mean, it was getting pretty late,” Neville paused, “They all figured you’d gone back up. But… I just… I was really worried you hadn’t. I was pretty stupid.”

“Well… still. Thank you,” I flushed furiously, “Literally, no one else would do that for me.”

I could see in the dull light from our wands that Neville was also blushing extensively.

“Er, yeah,” Neville mumbled. I couldn’t even stop myself; I leaned over and gently kissed Neville on the cheek. He blushed even more, looking at me in complete shock.

“Don’t tell George about that, and we’re even,” I muttered quietly, looking straight ahead and trying to not melt into the ground. I saw Neville nod out of the corner of my eye.

We got back up to the castle, and I found George and the rest of them sitting around the fireplace. They all gasped when they saw us and rushed forward, all asking a million questions, badgering us so much that I felt overwhelmed.

“Guys, look, I came back on my own, okay? Then I was worried you all had gone out looking for me, so McGonagall, Hagrid and I all went out looking for you. We looked for hours, and I’m really upset you all left Neville alone out there,” I stated as calmly as I could.

“We were going to come back for Neville, we just thought you might have come back to the Common Room,” Harry rushed to explain.

“I’m still upset. You know how he is in the forest,” I accused.

“You shouldn’t have run out there!” Hermione scolded.

“Yeah, well, I’m me. I do what I do,” I snapped, “ _You_ lot neglected someone. I’m going to bed,” I grunted, walking up the stairs to the girl’s dormitory without another word.

The next morning, I still didn’t feel like dealing with any of them. I walked downstairs with my bag, fully expecting to go about to my lessons like Sam used to do. When I got there, George was looking at me, his face etched with shame.

“I was going to stay out there with Neville, I just – honestly, I didn’t come back up here with the others. I went looking for you all over the grounds, because I was hoping you weren’t crazy enough to still be out there,” George hung his head, “It still doesn’t excuse not staying with Neville, though. You have every right to be furious.”

I looked at him and frowned, “While I appreciate that you _did_ keep looking for me, I’m still not at the forgiving stage, though. What if something terrible had happened to him?”

“I know,” George sighed.

“It was so irresponsible and negligent, I just,” I scowled, “I need to be alone for a little while.” George nodded, looking resigned but hurt, and I walked out of the Common Room in a huff. I spent the rest of the day sitting in the back, away from everyone, doodling birds in my notes during History of Magic and then in Potions.

That evening, rather than go to dinner, I fulfilled my promise and went to Hagrid’s. The man was still distraught, but doing a little better; his food was still terrible, but I was able to stomach at least some of it.

The next day went much the same; I went to Charms and Ancient Runes, didn’t talk to anyone (not even Sam, though Hermione then sat with him instead of me,) and ate dinner with Hagrid. I was actually enjoying the silence. I had begun to work through the question of leg wing feathers while I sat alone in places.

As I left Hagrid’s hut, I was greeted with Neville standing in front of me, looking at me with a strange expression on his face.

“Hey,” I sighed.

“Hey, Maggie,” Neville paused, “You know, they _did_ urge me to come back in with them. I just insisted.”

“When you insisted, one of them should have stayed,” I retorted. Neville sighed heavily.

“Yeah, I guess. You want to stay outside? You should have company,” Neville offered. I nodded, and we both headed over to the tree by the lake. It was still very cold outside, given that it was January; but we lay down on the ground and stared up at the starry night sky above us, ignoring the coldness of the ground.

“You shouldn’t stay mad at them forever,” Neville murmured. I was sitting at an angle from him, rather than parallel, our heads relatively close to one another, though facing the sky. His hand was lying above his head, his hand curled up slightly. His other arm – the one farther away from me – was spread out, his palm facing the ground. My arm close to him was also above my head, lying on the ground very close to his, my fingers outstretched as though to grab his hand. My other hand was lying on my stomach, rising and falling as I breathed.

“I won’t,” I agreed, “I just need a little time.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Neville responded. We sat in silence for a few more minutes.

“I guess I just… I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you,” Neville sighed. I felt my breath catch in my throat.

“I feel the same about you, you know. Hence my fury,” I responded.

“I also… I’ve been going through… something. And I wanted to… erm… talk to you about it,” Neville stammered out.

“You can tell me anything, Nev,” I reassured quietly.

“Erm… remember when you came out, back in November?” Neville whispered.

“Yeah?”

“Well… you started rambling about… about…” Neville choked on his words.

“Literally, Neville, you can tell me anything,” I reassured again.

“You started talking about… nonbinary genders.”

I turned on my stomach to face him, looking at him seriously, “Yeah?”

Neville also turned on his stomach, facing me, clearly nervous, “I think… I might be…”

I waited patiently, desperately fighting my urge to touch his cheek.

“I might be… agender,” Neville whispered.

“Yeah?” I offered, smiling kindly at him.

“Yeah. I mean, I always knew I wasn’t a girl, but when you talked about that, I started doing some research,” Neville rambled, seemingly comforted that I wasn’t freaking out, “And… I just… I mean I don’t mind the he, him, his pronouns, you know, but gender is more than pronouns and I… I just… I’m not a boy,” he whispered, “I’m not. I’m not a girl; I’m not a boy. What is gender? I don’t like it. I don’t want there to be some sort of… societal thing that defines things about me. Like boy, that says that I should always like girls – and sometimes I don’t, you know, I think I’m bisexual, too – and I should be, commanding, and masculine, and I just, I know I don’t _have_ to be, to be a boy, but I don’t want any part of it at all. Except facial hair. I might grow that,” Neville flushed madly, “But seriously, no part of it. I am me. I like plants, and I like to be with my friends, and I enjoy dancing, and I will protect the people I love at any cost, and I’m a little shy, but I am brave, and I love figuring things out about my plants and – I’m a _person_. What does being a boy even _mean_?”

I beamed at him happily as he finished his rambling, looking at me nervously.

“Neville, I am so, so, _so_ proud of you,” I smiled, “I’m so proud of you for being so accepting of yourself, and going on this journey to understand yourself better.”

“Really?” Neville breathed.

“Really,” I smiled, “So, are you going to do anything major with this? You don’t have to know, I’m just curious.”

“I mean, I don’t really want to cause any confrontation. I like my name fine, and the pronouns fine. And I wouldn’t change my body or anything,” Neville paused, “I just don’t want to be referred to as a boy. Ever. But I don’t know how to tell people that. And maybe I’d like to do some… not-boy things. Like wearing a skirt, or growing my hair out even longer, or something. Makeup would be cool to try, I guess, as long as I can make sure Malfoy doesn’t see.”

I stared at him, frowning slightly, “Well, I’ll start the trend, and see if people pick up on it. If they don’t, it’ll probably be worth telling our friends. Unless you don’t want to; it’s entirely your choice. As for dressing or doing feminine things, go right ahead, I want you to follow your dreams.” I beamed at him and he beamed back, flushing slightly again.

“Maggie, you are literally one of the most wonderful people I know,” Neville murmured. I grinned happily at him and reached out to squeeze his arm, though of course what I _wanted_ to do was kiss him again, and this secretly frustrated me.

“Neville, you are literally one of the most wonderful people I know,” I parroted, beaming at him and squeezing his arm again. He beamed back, his face flushing with bashfulness.

It was getting late, though, and we were getting cold. We both got out of the ground and walked up to the castle, quietly discussing gender together, me reaffirming that his identity was valid, and good.

And so, for a little while after that, Neville and I would spend a lot of time together, talking about this together. He repeated himself a lot, but I could tell that he appreciated being able to talk out his feelings with someone he trusted. And I didn’t mind, mostly because it was a topic of conversation I could navigate safely, without revealing too much that I realized how I felt about him.

Eventually, however, I knew I would have to go and forgive the group. So on the sixteenth of January, I went up to them in the common Room for the first time in twelve days.

“Alright, I forgive you lot,” I sighed, looking at them apologetically, “Sorry for getting so mad.”

“You had every right to be mad,” Ginny responded urgently, “We were prats.”

“Seriously, no hard feelings,” Harry reassured as well, nodding eagerly. I went up to George and gave him a hug, which he returned eagerly; I did enjoy being in his arms again, notwithstanding everything else I was feeling. I gave him a happy kiss and held his hand tightly.

“Want to go out to Hogsmeade?” George suggested. I had promised Neville we would go together, but I knew that that would be a bad thing to suggest. I nodded, and we walked out together. It was snowing again, and I enjoyed it, reveling in the feeling of the flakes on my skin.

“Maggie, can I ask you an awkward question?” George asked as we walked down the path, his face red with cold.

“You just did,” I joked, smirking at him. George rolled his eyes. He opened his mouth, his breath catching in his throat, before closing it again. He then took a deep breath, stopped in the middle of the path, and looked at me.

“Are you… erm… do you fancy Neville at all?”

My heart literally stopped for a full beat before I answered, “No.”

“Alright,” George looked visibly relieved, “I was just… I dunno, a _little_ worried, cause you had been spending so much time together. And it wouldn’t really matter if you just fancied him, I mean people fancy people while they’re in relationships all the time, I just wanted to ask.”

“Well, I don’t,” I continued to lie. And if I just fancied him, I wouldn’t have lied. But the depth of my feelings for Neville was not something I could half-lie about. And being _that_ in love with him – more so than George – would cause major problems. George would break up with me on the spot.

“Good,” George beamed, and we continued walking to the village, though I now had a ball in the pit of my stomach that decidedly felt like pure lead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please guys, let me know what you think! Feedback is my lifeblood! Thanks!


	39. Chapter Thirty - Eight: January 17 - February 24, 1995, Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "And now you steal away 
> 
> Take him out today 
> 
> Nice work you did 
> 
> You're gonna go far, kid 
> 
> With a thousand lies 
> 
> And a good disguise 
> 
> Hit 'em right between the eyes 
> 
> Hit 'em right between the eyes 
> 
> When you walk away 
> 
> Nothing more to say 
> 
> See the lightening in your eyes 
> 
> See 'em running for their lives." 
> 
> ~ The Offspring, "You're Gonna Go Far, Kid."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slight sexual content within

Chapter 38: January 17 – February 24, 1995, Hogwarts

Coming back to the group was an astonishingly good thing, as Harry had yet to figure out the clues to the Second Task. Angelina was as clueless as he was, and she even had Alicia and Katie assisting her in trying to solve the problem. As such, I knew that I had to help him, and I spent my free time pouring over the scrolls; staring at their wording in concentration.

In addition, I was still trying to come across my final animagus form. It now had been so long that I was getting impatient. I had transformed into a wide array of animals – much more than the average, though I was practicing so much I was still good on the _timing_ of it all. I had transformed into _Brouffia, Protorothyris, Araeoscelis,_ an _Ichthyosaurus_ (which was very awkward, as I flopped around on the floor for a good few minutes before I could finally gain my composure enough to transform back,) a komodo dragon, _Rhynchosaurus,_ a crocodile, a _Dimorphodon,_ a _Pteranodon_ , a _Quetzalcoatlus,_ an _Azhdarcho_ , a _Lagosuchus,_ a _Stegosaurus_ , a _Triceratops_ , a _Plateosaurus_ , a _Sauroposeidon,_ and an _Eoraptor_. It was so frustrating for me that I was actually getting rage about the process that was supposed to _cure_ my rage.

The next Wednesday night, I found myself walking through the corridor back to the Gryffindor Common Room, on my way from McGonagall’s office after a long evening of transformations. I was exhausted, and overwhelmed with the number of animals I had transformed into.

 _I gotta be getting close_ , I thought gloomily to myself, though I barely believed the phrase; it could take upwards of a year before I finally got my animal form down, and I was growing impatient. As I walked down the corridor deep in thought, I ran – _SMACK!_ – into another person.

“Woah! Maggie!” George laughed, grabbing me before I fell, “Look where you’re going, eh?”

I laughed out loud, looking up at him, “Yeah, probably. Where are you headed?”

“I was looking for you,” George frowned, “I haven’t seen you all day.”

“I’ve been busy,” I answered honestly, “I got work with McGonagall Wednesday evenings, you know that.”

“Yeah,” George sighed, “You always seem so busy, though. I miss you.”

“George, I have a full course load, research, and my brother is a Triwizard Champion,” I laughed, “You have three courses and endless amounts of spare time.”

“Not true! Fred and I have been working on our joke shop,” George answered defensively. I gave him a look and he sighed.

“Fine, I guess you’re right,” George paused, “Do you have some time now?”

I nodded, smirking, “What do you want to do?”

George grinned and grabbed my hand, dragging me into a nearby broom closet. I was so surprised by this I looked up at him curiously, before he leaned down and started kissing me fiercely. His hand was buried in my hair and his other hand was on my waist, and his entire body was pressed up against mine so forcefully that I felt my heart rate quicken to breakneck speeds. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and kissed him back, almost with equal vigor; but I was caught so off guard that I couldn’t really match it in its entirety. His tongue slipped between my lips, and this wasn’t new; but the eagerness with which he explored the inside of my mouth caught me off guard. I had to admit it was nice; I squeezed his shoulders tightly and enjoyed feeling so much of him against me –

I felt my eyes open in shock as I felt what could arguably be called _too_ much of him. He gripped my shoulders now tightly, seemingly unaware that _I_ was aware of his downstairs situation.

_What is this? Does he want to have sex? What? Should I even say or anything? I’m not ready for that yet, I don’t –_

But he didn’t make any motion as though this was where he was headed; he simply kept kissing me. I enjoyed kissing him back, eventually actually lifting up my leg and wrapping it around his, pushing him closer to me. He let out a sound that made my heart flutter and I dug my fingers deeply into his hair. His hand moved from my waist and onto my shoulder, before slowly moving down to rest on my chest.

I was so shocked that I had to remind myself to keep kissing him. This was entirely new. His hand was gently running along my breasts, finally going back to the closer one to squeeze it softly. I murmured slightly in shock and he pulled back, breathing heavily.

“This okay?” he asked quietly. I nodded, and he went back to kissing me, now massaging my breast a little less tentatively. Honestly, I could tell he had never done it before; it didn’t really do much to make me feel good, but I didn’t particularly _mind_ it. I kissed him back softly, happily holding tightly to his back. I was curious, but tentative, as I slid my hands down to his butt. It was muscular, from years of Quidditch playing, and I happily squeezed it. I rolled it over in my hands happily, and he moaned into my mouth so loud I immediately worried that someone had heard us. George, however, seemed to have no such concerns; he began kissing me in increased vigor, which I suppose I should have expected after touching his butt. He now had his other hand on my own butt and was pressing into me so tightly he must have known that I knew what was going on in his pants right now. I enjoyed it slightly, but it still mostly made me nervous.

It was getting late, though, and I managed to start slowing down the kissing, removing my tongue from his mouth and moving my arms back around his back. I continued to kiss him very gently until finally I broke away, him looking at me with eyes that could only be described as lustful.

“You are amazingly sexy,” he breathed. My heartbeat, which I had managed to calm, started racing again.

“So are you,” I answered honestly. George grinned and gave me a small peck on the forehead.

“Guess it’s getting late, huh?” he asked.

“Yeah, we should go back,” I nodded. He took my hand and we snuck back through the corridors, my heart still beating relatively rapidly.

The next evening, I brought the Marauder’s Map with me as I walked down to the library. It wasn’t so much that I didn’t want to snog George in a broom closet; it was more so that I wanted to be able to do so when I was in the mood, and not when I was surprised in the corridor walking back from spending my entire evening studying my arse off.

Harry and Angelina were in the library, both hunched over their clues, muttering quietly to themselves. I sat next to them and pulled out my arithmancy book, looking at their notes.

“Alright, so far we’ve figured that the first part at least is in a jungle, and you have to solve a puzzle to get through it. Then, the second part appears to consist of monsters that people remember – we think things that each of the champions faced in the past, and you have to face ones from other champions as well as yourself. And then – there’s a third part, probably – you need to trust your gut to get through it? You have to rely on instinct?” Harry hissed under his breath.

“But what will we have to face – what sort of riddles will it be, what do they mean by demons, and what will we have to use instinct to get through?” Angelina sighed.

“Demons would be obvious for me, but not for anyone else… I _hope_ ,” Harry sighed.

“They can’t have us face the monsters from the first task again, and that’s all I’ve got,” Angelina groaned.

“Maybe your worst fears? Like _actual_ worst fears? Like boggarts?” I asked. Harry sighed again.

“ _Maybe_ , but that seems too obvious. They already did the darkest fears thing,” Harry paused, “There has to be something else.”

“Maybe… the thing you hate about yourself?” Angelina suggested.

“Like, your _personal_ demons,” I nodded in agreement.

“Huh,” Harry paused, “Yeah, that makes sense.”

“But how can you fight the things you hate about yourself?” Angelina frowned.

“Would you… have to fight _yourself_?” Harry frowned.

“That would be bizarre,” I laughed. I opened up my Arithmancy book and began to read the chapter for the next day as the two of them continued to discuss the poems in detail, muttering to each other quietly in case Effi or Matteo happened to overhear them. The clock continued to go on and on and it got extremely late; late enough that if Pince happened to find us, we would be in loads of trouble.

“Alright, I’m going to go to bed,” Angelina yawned, “See you both tomorrow.”

“See yeah,” we waved. Harry let out a long sigh.

“We should go back, too,” he suggested. I rolled my eyes and nodded, pulling out the map.

“We can make sure we don’t’ run into any teachers by looking at this,” I explained. Harry nodded and we left the library, creeping along the walls carefully to make sure to not run into anyone. I looked at the map carefully, reading every bit of it.

“What the hell?” I whispered in surprise.

“What?” Harry asked quietly, glaring at me angrily.

“Barty Crouch is in Professor Snape’s office,” I hissed. Harry whipped around and took the map from my hands, gaping at it.

“But he’s _ill_!”

“I know!”

“What is he even _doing_ here?”

“This is insane,” I gasped, “He’s supposed to be so ill he can’t leave the house!”

“Really?” Harry frowned.

“Yeah,” I nodded, “I thought nothing of it at the time, Mum just told me when she was here last – literally, I didn’t even catalogue it in my brain, but – he’s _ill_!’

Harry grinned at me maliciously, a look that I had been more familiar with _before_ coming to Hogwarts.

“Wanna go see why he’s snooping about?”

I grinned happily and nodded, and we changed our course to head towards Snape’s office. It was dangerous, but we had faced a basilisk. We crept along as quickly as we could, me watching the map as we went.

“Wait, wait, wait!” I hissed. Harry stopped in his track and looked at me worriedly.

“Snape!” I whispered. Harry’s eyes widened and I knocked three times on the painting of Richard the Dragonslayer, opening up a passageway. I dragged him inside and closed the door, resting against it with my ear.

“Where does this go?” Harry hissed.

“The grounds. We’ll wait until he passes,” I responded, watching the map as well.

Snape reached the hallway we were in, just as Filch emerged from _another_ secret passageway, from across the way, walking towards him. The two stood right in front of Harry and me, only separated by the wall.

“Filch, someone has been raiding my office,” Snape angrily hissed.

“What do you mean, Professor?”

“I mean I heard a clatter in my office, and I went to investigate, and I saw the torches were lit and a cupboard door was ajar! Somebody has been searching it!”

“Could it have been Peeves?”

“No, Filch!” Snape snapped, “I seal my office with a spell none but a wizard could break! I want you to come and help me search for the intruder, Filch.”

“Yes, of course, Professor. I simply was on my way to investigate – I heard students in the corridors, and I was following them; I believe they could have used one of the secret passageways here –“

“Students? Coming from where?”

“The library, Professor, the library, they were out of bed –“

“I don’t care about the library, Filch! It’s my office that has been raided, I don’t give a damn about students studying late –“

I pressed my ear up against the door nervously, as did Harry, both of us listening to know when to run, if Filch were to investigate this passageway. Listening, we heard a distinct clunking noise in the hallway.

“Moody!” Harry hissed almost imperceptibly. Moody could see through desks – he probably could see through portraits. I felt my breath catch in my throat and I looked at the doorway in fear.

“Pajama party, is it?” he growled.

“Professor Snape’s office has been raided, Professor,” Filch answered.

“Shut up!” Snape hissed angrily.

 _Clunk! Clunk! Clunk!_ Moody walked towards the portrait, and I felt terrified that he could see us. There was a long pause before Moody spoke again.

“Did I hear that correctly, Snape? Someone broke into your office?”

“It is unimportant,” Snape answered coldly.

“On the contrary, it is very important,” Moody growled, “Who would want to break into your office?”

“A student, I daresay,” Snape sneered, “It has happened before. Potion ingredients have gone missing from my private store cupboard… students attempting illicit mixtures, no doubt…”

“Students, eh?” Moody asked. Now I was _definitely_ convinced he could see us. I swallowed heavily.

“Reckon they were after potion ingredients? Not hiding anything else in your office, are you?”

“You know I’m hiding nothing, Moody,” Snape answered dangerously, “As you’ve searched my office pretty thoroughly yourself.”

“Auror’s privilege, Snape. Dumbledore told me to keep an eye –“

“Dumbledore happens to trust me,” Snape hissed, “I refuse to believe that he gave you orders to search my office!”

“’Course Dumbledore trusts you,” growled Moody, “ He’s a trusting man, isn’t he? Believes in second chances. But me – I say there are spots that don’t come off, Snape. Spots that never come off, d’you know what I mean?” After a pause, Snape laughed, “Get to bed, Snape.”

“You don’t have the authority to send me anywhere!” Snape hissed, “I have as much right to prowl this school after dark as you do!”

“Prowl away,” Moody answered menacingly, “I look forward to meeting you in a dark corridor some time.”

There was a long pause. Footsteps finally left, some in one direction, some in another; none of them were clunking.

Three loud knocks issued on the portrait. Harry and I groaned as the door opened, revealing Moody on the other side.

“Close shave, you lot,” Moody muttered.

“Erm, thanks,” I mumbled.

“You would be well served to not wander the castle at night,” Moody paused, “What is that?”

He was pointing at the Maurader’s Map. I handed it to him sadly, knowing it would now be confiscated.

“Map of Hogwarts,” Harry sighed.

“Merlin’s beard,” Moody whispered, staring at the map in shock, “This… this is some map, Potter!”

“Yeah, it’s, erm, useful,” Harry admitted.

“Potter, you didn’t, by any chance, happen to see who broke into Snape’s office, did you? On this map?” Moody asked.

“Erm…” Harry flushed.

“Yeah… it was Mr. Crouch,” I answered calmly, “We were… er… trying to catch him.”

Moody looked at both of us in shock, then back at the map in alarm.

“Crouch?” Moody asked, “You’re – you’re sure, Johnson?”

“Yeah,” I nodded.

“Well, he’s not here anymore,” Moody answered, looking all over the map, “Crouch... that’s very, very interesting…” He stared at the map for a full minute, and I was dying with curiosity, though my trust of Moody was scant at best. Still, I was curious whether or not Moody had thoughts on Crouch… and Mum _did_ trust him…

“Erm, why do you reckon Mr. Crouch would want to look around Snape’s office?” I asked curiously.

Moody looked at us carefully, basically sizing us up.

“Put it this way, you two,” Moody finally admitted, “They say old Mad-Eye’s obsessed with catching Dark wizards… but I’m nothing… _nothing_ … compared to Barty Crouch.”

“Erm… does this have something to do with… do you think Mr. Crouch thinks there’s something going on?” Harry asked.

“Like what? “Moody asked sharply.

“Well, I mean… odd stuff’s been happening lately, right?” I furthered, “The Dark Mark at the World Cup, the murders of those muggles… the Death Eaters…”

“You two are sharp kids, Potter, Johnson,” Moody looked at us and at the Map at the same time, utilizing his magical eye, “Crouch could have been thinking along those lines… very possible. There have been some funny rumors flying around lately – helped along by Rita Skeeter, of course. It’s making a lot of people nervous, I reckon. Oh, if there’s one thing I hate,” he muttered quietly to himself, “It’s a Death Eater who walked free…”

I swallowed. Had Snape been a Death Eater? It only made sense – he and my Mum had had a falling out, and only became friends again after Voldy-pants had fallen.

 _Maybe he switched sides_ , I thought shrewdly.

“I want to ask _you_ a question, Potter,” Moody began, sounding more like a teacher now than before. I groaned softly.

“Can I borrow this?”

“Oh!” Harry gasped. I breathed a sigh of relief, happy that he wouldn’t demand where the map had come from, or insist that we both receive detentions.

“Yeah, sure,” Harry nodded.

“Good, good,” Moody grunted, “I can make good use of this… this might be _exactly_ what I’ve been looking for… Right, bed, Potter, Johnson, come on, now.”

We followed him up the stairs, towards the Common Room. We walked along in silence for a while.

“You ever thought of a career as an Auror, either of you?” Moody suddenly asked.

“No,” Harry responded, looking shocked.

“Er… no,” I agreed.

“You want to consider it,” Moody looked at us and nodded, “Yes… from what I’ve heard, you both have a real knack for fighting the Dark Arts… and solving mysteries.”

I grinned slightly. Harry was flushed, but positively beaming.

“So I take it you two weren’t just on a nighttime stroll, looking for old dark wizard catchers, eh?” Moody asked.

“I was working out the clue in the library,” Harry admitted, “Maggie was helping.”

“Good, good… Good on you for helping him, Johnson… See you both in the morning…” Moody walked back into his office, staring down at the map. Harry and I looked at each other, shrugged, and headed back into the Common Room. I was thinking heavily about everything, confused, still, that Crouch had been in the castle.

The next morning, Neville, Hermione, Harry and I were at breakfast much too early, so Harry could hiss everything that had happened when none of the rest of our friends were there to overhear.

“So Moody also searched Snape’s office?” Neville frowned, “Always knew he was evil.”

“Oh come on, Dumbledore trusts Snape,” Hermione insisted.

“Dumbledore could be wrong,” Neville scowled, “Besides, Dumbledore asked him to keep a look out on Karakaroff, why not Snape?”

“I dunno if Dumbledore asked him to look into Snape, though,” I frowned, “Moody seemed to do it of his own accord.”

“Moody also said Dumbledore only lets Snape stick around because he’s giving him a second chance,” Harry insisted.

“You’re kidding,” Hermione was frowning.

“Maybe Snape put your name in the Goblet of Fire!” Neville urged eagerly.

“Neville, come on,” Hermione sighed, “We’ve though Snape was trying to kill Harry before, and he was saving Harry’s life!”

“The man is _evil_ , Hermione,” Neville shook his head, “I’ll never trust him.”

“Snape hates my dad, too. Dumbledore said him saving my life first year was just to repay my dad for saving his life when they were in school,” Harry muttered, “The debt’s been repaid, now.”

I thought of Snape and Lily, and whatever the heck was going on with Snape’s boggart. But then I thought of his treatment of Neville, and I scowled furiously.

“I don’t care _what_ Moody’s on about,” Hermione shook her head, “Dumbledore is _not_ stupid. He trusts Hagrid and Lupin despite loads of people not giving them the time of day, so why shouldn’t he be right about Snape, even if he is a bit… well…”

“He’s evil, Hermione. Why else would all these aurors be searching his office? He’s evil, plain and simple, and I won’t hear anything to the contrary,” Neville snapped.

“The real question is, why is Crouch pretending to be ill, the wanker?” I muttered, “He can’t do his job, but he can come here in the middle of the night whenever he wants?”

“It’s dodgy, yeah,” Harry nodded.

Hermione paused, “You know who I want to talk to about all this?”

We looked at her questioningly. She rolled her eyes.

“ _Snuffles_. He knows loads; your parents would be a good bet, too, Maggie,” Hermione hissed.

I frowned, “Mum isn’t coming up till the second task, though. And it’s risky to bring Snuffles.”

“I’ll ask anyway,” Harry paused, “You gotta walk the dog, right?”

I grinned cheekily and nodded. We all got up and started walking towards our charms lesson, moving through the crowded corridors together when we heard a loud crash.

“ _GET AWAY FROM ME!_ ” screeched a familiar Scottish voice.

“Elena!” I shouted, immediately breaking into a run towards the crash. The others followed me down the hallways, until we reached a large crowd surrounding two people.

Elena was sitting on top of a third year Slytherin boy, her hand pressed into his face and her leg stepping on his hand. He was crying out loudly in pain. A nearby suit of armor had clattered to the ground around them.

“ _Leave – me – alone!_ ” Elena shouted angrily, kicking him in the side with her other leg.

“Okay! Okay!” the boy cried, “Just get off me!”

Elena did so, spitting violently into the boy’s face, and dusting off her robes. She nodded, pursing her lips together, and walked away. I looked at her in shock, my face breaking into a wide smile.

“What?” she asked, though she was working, “Hermione’s training has been paying off.”

“Oh really?” I grinned, looking over at Hermione. She shrugged, smirking slightly.

“We started after the holidays. Elena is a quick learner,” Hermione grinned.

“And now, if they don’t listen to Malfoy, or Malone, they’ll bloody well listen to _me_ ,” Elena beamed widely at me.

“What happened, anyway?” I asked, laughing.

“He tried to shove me into the armor, and I fell, but I got back up and I shoved him into the wall and managed to throw him to the ground,” Elena beamed, “Then I sat on him so he couldn’t get up.”

“Brilliant form,” Harry praised.

“Thanks, guys. I better get to potions; see you later!” Elena waved, positively cheerfully, as she skipped down towards the dungeons. I looked in amusement at my friends, who were grinning back at me.

“Guess we don’t have to worry much about her anymore, eh?” I asked cheerfully. Harry rolled his eyes but he was also smiling, and we all left to Charms together.

Time continued to move linearly, however, and soon enough the day of the second task came. Harry waved at all of us gloomily in the morning as he left to go to the task, Angelina heading with him and smiling woefully at all of us.

“Wonder where they’re holding it?” Hermione asked. Fred had his arm around her shoulder, and he was resting his head on her arm, his eyes somewhat closed. It was fairly early in the morning, and he and George had been up all the night before working on their canary clusters, sweets that would turn the consumer briefly into a bird.

 “Reckon we’ll find out soon,” Neville rolled his eyes.

“If everyone could head out to the grounds following the sides immediately,” Dumbledore called to everyone in the Great Hall, “The second task is about to begin!”

I got up and held George’s hand, walking together with our friends through the clearly marked pathway. Sam, Luna, Claire and Elena caught up with us, all chatting eagerly about the task.

“Wonder what they’ll have to do?” Elena asked curiously, “Did Harry and Angelina figure it out?”

“Mostly,” I answered, pausing for a long minute, “I hope.”

“He’ll be fine,” Claire rolled her eyes, “He’s Harry Potter.”

“Names are not indicators of talent or skill,” Sam responded shrewdly.

“Were – were you _there_ second year?” Neville asked him, raising an eyebrow. He and Ginny were holding hands, but I purposefully ignored it, as it sort of made me want to scream.

“Yes, but my policy in life is to have the lowest possible expectations. Then, you see, you’re never disappointed,” Sam explained.

“But then you’re also never hopeful! And then wrackspurts come to your head, it’s true,” Luna responded sadly.

“I’ll take my chances,” Sam rolled his eyes, “And hope is just another word for delusional.”

“That’s cheerful, mate,” Ron looked at him in surprise.

“Well it is. For example, I’m hopeful Lord Voldemort won’t come back –“

“Oi!”

“Watch it!”

“Come on, mate!” The three Weasley boys all shouted together.

“Oh get over yourselves,” Sam rolled his eyes, “I’m hopeful he won’t come back, but let’s be realistic,” Sam held out his hand and began counting off fingers as we walked through the cold, frosty grounds, “He tried to steal the Philosopher’s Stone, his bloody snake attacks the castle, his right-hand man escapes from Azkaban and still hasn’t been found,” Hermione, Neville, George and I all smirked at each other for the briefest of moments, “There’s a riot at the Quidditch World Cup, a bunch of muggles are killed, Bertha Jorkins goes missing, Harry’s name gets put into the Goblet of Fire – it’s all very dodgy, if you ask me. So it would be hopeful, but delusional, to think he wasn’t on his way back.”

“Thanks for the cheery introduction to another near death situation for my brother,” I sighed, rolling my eyes.

We walked up to a very, very large enclosure; we walked inside and up into stands that were so high you could see everything down below –

“It’s an obstacle course!” Hermione gasped.

“A what, now?” Ron asked in confusion.

“We have these back in muggle school – you have to go through the whole thing, there are obstacles all along this sort of path, and once you reach the end you’ve run. It’s like a race, but with challenges,” Hermione explained hurriedly.

“So what are the obstacles?” Ron asked in confusion.

“Well, look,” I pointed. There were four, identical courses, leading up to forks in the road. Each of the forks had two paths leading from them. At the beginning of each course there were a series of obstacles, with signs next to them – each sign was next to two obstacles, as though presenting a sort of choice. After that, there was a thick section of fog, which would be nearly impossible to see through – though it seemed odd, like it was magical fog.  Then, at the fork, there were two choices – it was different in each one; two of them the right fork would lead to outside the obstacle course; two of them, the left. The other fork in each one lead all the way back to the beginning of the obstacle course.

“I think the first things – before the fog – are puzzles, that they have to solve, in order to know which way to go,” Hermione whispered.

“The fog must be the demon thing – I wonder what it’ll do,” I agreed.

“Then the end – that’s the choice – they have to go with their gut, or else they won’t get out!” Neville nodded.

“Well then, I’ll just scream at the top of my lungs for Harry to pick the correct fork,” I grinned.

“That _can’t_ be allowed,” Hermione frowned.

“Since when does Maggie follow the rules?” George grinned. His hand was secretly on my butt; no one could tell in the crowd, but I could. I looked up at him with a slight glare and he removed the hand, smirking slightly.

I looked over to the judge’s stands to see my mum there, and I waved. She waved back, though I couldn’t see if my dad (or Sirius) was with her.

“There you all are,” Dad suddenly greeted behind me. I looked around at my Dad and beamed happily. He was holding a dog leash, Sirius looking up at me and wagging his tail.

“Took the dog for a walk, like you said,” Dad rolled his eyes. George was flushing madly, obviously at the near miss he had just had – my dad was seconds away from catching him grabbing my ass.

“Why did you take your dog for a walk to Hogwarts?” Sam asked suspiciously.

“Elena misses her puppy,” my dad lied smoothly. Elena only had a look of indignation for a second before reaching to scratch Sirius behind the ears.

“Dogs are great therapy, you know,” she answered wisely. Sirius woofed, making Hermione burst into giggles.

“Greetings!” Ludo Bagman’s voice suddenly announced to everyone, “Today, our Champions will have to navigate through the paths you see before you. Now, you all are able to see what each champion does and which path is the correct one. We ask that you do _not_ shout any answers at any of the champions; as this will cause them to be disqualified from this event.”

“Darn,” I sighed mournfully.

“Champions, please line up at your designated course!” Bagman shouted. The four of them lined up, Harry taking one of the middle ones.

“GO HARRY!” I cheered, and most of the people around me followed. Sirius next to me barked loudly. Harry waved awkwardly, clearly nervous.

“On my whistle, you may begin!” Bagman shouted, “One, two, three!” He then blew the whistle, and the four of them all went sprinting into the courses, immediately coming up to the first obstacle. I watched Harry avidly, clutching the bench in front of me tightly. He ran forward and came up to two ponds that looked nearly identical, reading the sign rapidly. He waited for a minute after reading it, bouncing on his toes, as though he was expecting something to happen.

Suddenly, from one of the ponds a crocodile leapt from the depths, going straight up into the air before falling back down. Harry then ran and leapt over that pond, continuing on. The next sign was in front of two separate mirrors; Harry read the sign and then went up to one of them, studying it closely. He then knocked on the back of it, which caused the mirror to move aside, revealing the rest of the pathway. He kept running, reaching yet _another_ sign.

On either side of him, Angelina was keeping pace; Effi was ahead of him, already past the obstacle. Matteo was behind both of them, limping, having been bitten by the crocodile, not waiting to cross the ponds.

Harry managed to get past the next puzzle, a brick wall, which he tapped on with his wand and kept moving, sort of like the boundary to Diagon Alley. He then ran up to five different hedges, only one of which would actually be passable; he read the sign, and cast a spell on the wrong one. It rustled angrily and a swarm of spiders fell from it.

“Bloody hell!” Ron shouted next to me.

Harry ignored the spiders, pointing his wand at the correct hedge now, which opened up and allowed him to run through, sprinting down a long stretch of grass before coming up to the next obstacle. Angelina and Effi were ahead of him now.

“I wish I knew what these clues were!” Hermione next to me gasped.

The final obstacle was a large sphinx – a legitimate one, not a statue. The sphinx talked to Harry, clearly giving him some sort of riddle to solve. Harry thought for a minute, before answering the sphinx – I only knew because he was gesticulating with his hands. The sphinx nodded, moving aside, and Harry ran into the fog.

At this point, Effi and Angelina were both trapped in the fog – we couldn’t see anything. Harry also disappeared from view, and I strained my eyes looking for him in it.

“So you all can see what is going on, we have a screen projecting for your convenience!” Bagman shouted. I looked to see a projector above the obstacle courses, showing the inside of the fog.

Harry was facing what appeared to be a projection of himself, wearing Slytherin robes. Except, it wasn’t himself – it as some sort of weird looking version, with somewhat neater hair, and a crueler looking face. He was fighting him, both dueling together back and forth, their wand snapping with curses as Harry ran around fake Harry rapidly. Angelina was facing a version of herself, as well – a version tiny, petite, and wearing feminine clothing, one of the most posh dresses I had ever seen. Effi was facing nearly the complete opposite – a large, hulking version of herself, angry, nearly like a troll in appearance, angrily attacking Effi. She actually appeared unable to fight it.

The weirdest part of all was that here, all four obstacle courses connected. Harry, fighting himself, saw that Effi was struggling. In fact, she was presently being tackled by the evil version of herself, screaming as the demon swung her arm back as though to punch her. Harry cursed the evil Effi angrily, throwing her back. The evil version of Harry was sneaking up behind him, but Harry ran back and managed to curse him, shouting for Effi to run. She did so, running forward through the fog hastily. Angelina was fighting evil Harry now as well, having defeated her alter ego; Matteo was only now getting to the fog, facing a version of him that was stranger than all the rest

“A wolf?” Hermione asked in surprise.

“Is Matteo a _werewolf_?” Neville gasped.

The wolf indeed looked very similar to Professor Lupin last year. Matteo’s face visibly drained of color as he faced the wolf, fighting it deftly, though he looked as though he was going to throw up. Harry shot a curse at the werewolf just as it lunged at Matteo, going for his throat; Matteo managed to scamper away as Harry continued firing curses at the werewolf, before following the others through the fog.

Effi, who had reached the fork in the path, was hesitant. She was bouncing on the balls of her feet, looking at both of them in confusion. Angelina was running as fast as she could; the path from the fog to the fork was long, and she was still not there. When she reached, she immediately took the right fork – which was correct.

“Johnson is the first through the obstacle course!” Bagman called out to the stands. We all cheered, though I was worried heavily for Harry.

Effi had finally chosen her path – and she chose incorrectly. She ran all the way around the obstacle course, back to the beginning, but the paths changed now – now, the one she had chose before was the correct one; the incorrect one didn’t lead anywhere, but appeared to contain a large chasm.

“ _Bloody hell_ ,” Fred whispered.

Matteo had reached the fork and was running through, picking the correct one himself. He then ran over to join Angelina, clutching his bleeding leg tightly.

Harry was coming up to the fork and looked like he was about to pick at the same time as Matteo. Effi was running through, managing to get to the fog again, but with all four demons unoccupied, she was outnumbered. She let out a large, piercing scream. Harry looked visibly torn; in this moment Matteo was able to run through and reach Angelina; but he turned around and headed back to the fog.

“HARRY, WHAT THE BLOODY HELL ARE YOU DOING?” I shouted.

Harry ignored me, running up to Effi and helping her fight off all four of the alter egos, both of them standing back to back. It was quite a show, both of them shooting curses at them and rotating around each other to hit each one. Harry finally dived, managing to kick the wolf into the hedges, and urged Effi to go, before running himself back to his own course.

Effi picked the same path as before, managing to avoid the chasm that looked as though it would seriously wound her if she fell through; Harry ran through the correct path as well only seconds after.

“Dammit, he lost,” Claire groaned.

“He was an idiot, he kept helping everyone else,” Fred groaned.

The four champions were congregating, but Dumbledore and the judges seemed to be deep in conversation. I watched curiously, looking over at Dad.

“What are they talking about?” I asked him. Dad shook his head, frowning.

Bagman finally turned around, facing the crowd, “Ladies and gentlemen, we have reached our decision. We have awarded marks out of fifty for each of the champions. Effi Rosenthal, though she went through the riddle portion of the course the quickest, was unable to fight her demon on her own; furthermore, she did not choose the correct path at the end. For that, we award her twenty-five points.”

Effi looked accepting of this, and appeared to have been conversing with Harry, of all people.

“Angelina Johnson, first through the course, also was able to complete each portion of it to perfection. Therefore, we award her fifty points.”

Everyone burst into loud, raucous cheering; Alicia and Katie nearby were doing a very excited dance.

“Matteo DiSalvo was unable to pass through the riddle portion of the course without becoming injured; furthermore, he did not get through the fog portion on his own. As such, we only award him thirty points.”

Dumbledore cleared his throat in the midst of the cheering from the Beauxbatons students.

“Harry Potter, though he did not go through the riddle portion of the course perfectly, did fight off multiple demons in the fog portion to aid his fellow champions. Furthermore, he would have been the second to complete the course, had he not gone to help Miss Rosenthal. As such, we believe that he exhibited exceptional moral fiber. While this meant many of us wished to give him full marks,” Bagman shot a glance back at Karkaroff, who was scowling, “Instead, we have awarded him forty-five points.”

Harry was still in second place, despite finishing last; I screamed happily at the top of my lungs along with my friends and family, bouncing up and down happily. I turned and gave George a large kiss, much to the disgruntlement of my father behind us; but I wasn’t quite in the mood to care. I turned and gave Hermione and Elena large hugs, and then Neville; with Neville, I probably held on for a bit too long. When I pulled back, George was looking at me with a strange expression on his face. I turned and hugged him again, hoping that it would put his mind off of it.

“The third and final task will take place at dusk on the twenty-fourth of June,” Bagman continued, “The champions will be notified of what is coming precisely one month beforehand. Thank you all for your support of the champions.”

I grinned happily at everyone and ran out of the stands towards Harry, sprinting across the grass much as I had through the forest; however, where before I had been powered by anger and fear, today I was powered by the exact opposite. Joy filled every corner of me as I essentially flew across the grass, reaching Harry and tackling him to the ground. He laughed happily, hoisting me off of him and beaming widely.

“You did it! Harry, you did it!” I cheered, hugging him tightly.

“That was amazing!” Ginny behind me laughed.

“Exceptional moral fiber!” Hermione laughed.

“Harry, you are _incapable_ of not helping people!” Neville was beaming.

“I can do this, guys,” Harry looked at all of us, “Just one more to go! I can do it!”

“And you aren’t that far behind Angelina,” Fred laughed, “You could win!”

“And if you don’t, she certainly will!” George agreed. Angelina walked towards all of us and we tackled her happily too, all cheering excitedly. I was filled with so much joy that I wanted to sing. And I was the worst singer in the world.

“Harry, Maggie, we’d like to have a word with you,” Dad hissed as everyone continued chatting eagerly. I looked over at Harry and he nodded.

“Can we bring Hermione and Neville?” I hissed. Dad nodded, tugging on Sirius’ leash, and leading us away from the crowd. I looked around for George, but he was deep in conversation with Angelina Johnson. I frowned, but followed my Dad hurriedly. Mum soon joined us, and we left the arena area quickly, going towards Hagrid’s Hut, and then into the Forbidden Forest.

“I can’t believe my own mum is taking me in here,” I joked.

“We can’t risk having anyone see,” Mum shot back. I knew she was right and nodded as we went to a clearing in the middle of the forest and stopped.

“Did anyone follow us, Harry?” Mum asked. He shook his head.

“No, not that I saw.”

“Good.” Mum nodded at Sirius, who transformed back into a human. Harry immediately ran up and hugged him.

“Now,” Mum paused, “You lot wanted us to discuss what was going on.”

We all nodded.

“It hasn’t been going well,” Dad paused, “Things have been getting worse. The Tournament has essentially eclipsed any and all media coverage; literally no one has any idea.”

“What has happened?” Hermione asked nervously.

“They still haven’t found Bertha Jorkins, for one,” Sirius scowled, “And for another, Mr. Crouch has completely disappeared off the map.”

We all looked at each other in confusion.

“Which is why you seeing him in Hogwarts is more confusing than ever,” Mum sighed, “He has not returned a single one of my letters. I even sent Percy Weasley to his home – he was not there.”

“There is no reason to suppose that he would be able to come up to Hogwarts,” Dad continued, “But Sirius verified that the map never lied – we even sent Lupin a letter – so we believe you, of course.”

“The last we heard of him, he had visited the wizarding hospital – St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries,” Sirius continued.

“He was not doing well,” Mum sighed, “I saw him around the new year – he was practically on his deathbed. I do not understand how he could be up here.”

“Well, serves him right, for firing Winky,” Hermione muttered.

“Apparently she didn’t stay where he told her to stay, or something,” Neville clarified.

“Mr. Crouch is not the best of men,” Dad sighed.

“Not the best?” Sirirus growled, “Kids, here’s a bit of life advice. If you want to know what a person’s like, take a good look at how they treat their inferiors, not their equals.”

I frowned, “Well, he _did_ keep Mum at a lower position for a long time.”

“Exactly, Nathaniel,” Mum looked at Dad sternly. He nodded in agreement.

“He also put me in Azkaban, without a trial,” Sirius muttered angrily.

“ _What_?” the four of us shouted indignantly.

“Yup,” Sirius was scowling, “Crouch used to be the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. He was on the way for next Minister of Magic, he’s a great wizard, powerfully magical – and power-hungry. Never a Voldemort supporter, he was very outspoken against the Dark Side.”

“A lot of people were against the Dark Side, though,” Mum paused, “It doesn’t matter much what side you’re on, really. There are good and bad people everywhere.”

“The world isn’t divided into good people and Death Eaters. Just look at Rita Skeeter!” Dad grimaced.

“At any rate, I was just an entry level person back then… like Percy, now. I didn’t interact with Crouch much at all, but I heard about him. He was notorious, he would do anything to climb to the top, include throw other people, people he supposedly cared about, under the bus,” Mum paused, “And the atmosphere at the time was terrifying. Voldemort was powerful, and no one knew who was working for him, who his supporters were, who he was controlling with the Imperius curse.”

“It was an atmosphere of pure terror,” Dad agreed. This reminded me.

“Dad… you said once that Malfoy put you under the Imperius Curse,” I paused.

All three of their faces fell. I felt terrible for saying anything.

“When your father first came here,” Mum paused, though she looked choked up. Sirius sighed.

“When Nathaniel got here, he was here for an apothecary convention. It was a bad raid. Many Death Eaters attacked the convention, about half the attendees died,” Sirius began, “It was a bloodbath. Your father survived, fighting the Death Eaters in question. His abilities – he is brilliant and magical defense, don’t try to deny it, Nathaniel – lead to Malfoy targeting him. He was unknown, foreign, and powerful – the perfect mark. Malfoy put him under the imperius curse, and forced Nathaniel to murder the Prewett brothers.”

“Molly Weasley’s brothers?” Hermione gasped.

“Yes,” Sirius paused, “But he was able to fight it off – very soon after that. He went to the authorities and explained everything that had happened, offering to turn himself in.”

“Dumbledore interceded for me,” Dad finally spoke up, “And, truth be told, you just didn’t turn yourself in then. It was the darkest point of the war. If you were a Death Eater, you kept quiet about it. I didn’t have any idea who had put me under the Imperius curse until I met Malfoy a year or so later. He wasn’t invited to our wedding, but people tangentially linked to him were.”

“The Death Eaters knew about it, and attacked,” Mum sighed, “We all fought heavily, but that was a bloodbath too.”

“Lead to your mum and dad marrying in secret, Harry,” Sirius explained.

“I faced Malfoy during that fight, and I recognized his voice as the one that had been in my head when I was under the curse. But he got away before I could apprehend him,” Dad scowled.

“Why couldn’t you put him away?” I asked breathlessly.

“When the war ended, and it was starting to be safe to come forward with such things, we had just gotten you, Harry,” Mum explained, “And we were terrified for your safety. So we fled, not to Chicago – it would have been too obvious, and we wanted to spare your grandparents from being targeted – but to Egypt.”

“ _Egypt_?!” all four of us shouted.

“We weren’t there for long, but it was long enough that by the time we got back, Malfoy had bought his freedom,” Dad scowled, “There was nothing I could do.”

“Why _Egypt_?” I asked in confusion.

“We had literally no ties there, and it had been relatively untouched by the war,” Mum explained.

“But back to the point at hand – Crouch,” Sirius began, “Every week back in those days, there were more deaths, more disappearances, more torturings. The Ministry was in disarray, all they could do was keep things hidden from the muggles, but they were dying too. It was an atmosphere of pure terror, panic, confusion. It was war. And war brings out the best in some people, and the worst in others. Crouch may have been working for good in the beginning – I wouldn’t know.”

“He rose faster through the Ministry than anyone ever had before,” Mum agreed, “And he started ordering very harsh measures against Voldemort’s supporters. The Aurors were given new powers - powers to kill rather than capture, and Sirius wasn’t the only one who was put in jail without a trial. Crouch fought violence with violence, and authorized the use of Unforgivable Curses against suspects. He became as ruthless and cruel as many on the Dark Side, though he was well supported. Plenty of people thought that this was the only way to go about things, and he had immense popular support to be the next Minister. When Voldemort disappeared, it looked like Crouch was right on the precipice of promotion,” Mum sighed, “And then… Crouch’s own son was caught with a group of Death Eaters who had talked their way out of Azkaban. They were trying to find Voldemort, and return him to power.”

“Wait, what?” Hermione gasped.

“They were looking for Voldemort?” Harry demanded, “How?”

“They,” Mum’s eyes flickered to Neville – as did Dad’s and Sirius’s, “Well, they tortured some of the high level aurors. Many, in fact, looking for the truth.”

“What happened to Crouch’s son?” I asked.

“He was brought to Azkaban,” Sirius shrugged, “I was there when it happened. He might have been in the wrong place at the wrong time, but he was definitely in the company of people I would be my life were Death Eaters.”

“Nasty shock for Crouch, though,” Mum sighed, “He lost almost all of his credibility. He gave his own son to the dementors, but this actually worked against him. See, his son died, a year after he went to Azkaban.”

“You’re _kidding_ ,” Harry gasped.

“No,” Dad sighed, “He and his wife went to visit him. Soon after, his wife died as well. Crouch lost it all, and the death of both of them made everyone feel sympathetic towards his family members. Questioned how the son of Crouch could have ended up a Death Eater, or why Crouch wouldn’t show his son mercy. They hit the nail on the head – Crouch didn’t care enough for his family. Neglected them. So Fudge got elected and Crouch was shunted into your mother’s department.”

“Is it true… that he’s obsessed with catching dark wizards?” Neville asked quietly, the first words he had said in a while. He didn’t look quite well. My heart strained in confusion and worry at the sight.

“Yes, it was a mania with him,” Mum paused, “He would get himself into some trouble, occasionally, breaking international laws to chase suspects. I was constantly cleaning up his messes.”

“And now he’s looking into Snape!” Neville insisted angrily.

“It doesn’t make any sense, Neville, if he was looking into Snape – if he was well enough to come to the castle to do that – he wouldn’t have retired. He would have stayed a judge, and looked into Snape when he came down for the tournament,” Mum explained kindly, “Furthermore, Snape is on our side –“

Sirius snorted loudly. Neville looked skeptical.

“Dumbledore trusts him, you two,” Mum paused, “I’m not saying he’s a good person. I’m saying something happened that made him switch sides.”

“Do you know what?” I asked softly. Mum looked at me piercingly, and I knew she was sizing me up, examining if _I_ knew or not.

“Yes, but I am not allowed to say. So I would like no more words on the subject,” Mum finally stated.

Sirius looked skeptical, but I was put at ease by these words.

“What’s especially worrying is Bertha Jorkins. Bagman is claiming she has a bad memory – I worked with her for a while, she was shunted from department to department, you know, and she’s around our age – she has one of the best memories I’ve ever witnessed,” Mum scowled, “She had a real memory for gossip. Wouldn’t stop talking about how I’d married a _native_.”

“Sort of wanted to slap her, to be honest,” Dad chuckled.

“In addition, Erin Willoughby has gone missing,” Mum paused, “She worked under me, and I haven’t seen her for months. I sent parties after her immediately, of course, but nothing has turned up.”

  
“There have been many disappearances, rumors in the wind,” Dad agreed, “There’s a fog of terror settling over everyone outside of Hogwarts. It is legitimately just the tournament that is keeping it from reaching here.”

“It feels spookily like last time,” Sirius agreed, “And I won’t breathe easy until this tournament is over. So, you four, no more ridiculous shenanigans, alright?”

We nodded in unison.

“We _mean it_ ,” Mum urged, “Don’t go looking for trouble. Keep your heads down, get through your schoolwork. There’s a time and a place for heroics, and right now _isn’t it_.”

“Alright, Mum,” I responded calmly.

“Good,” Dad paused, “Let’s get back before you’re missed.”

As we walked back up to the castle, I looked at my friends in worry. We all had identical expressions of fear and apprehension, and frankly, I didn’t know how I was supposed to get through it without being heroic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry that there's only going to be one chapter tonight - I went out and did something social for once. Hope you enjoy, at any rate, and let me know what you think!


	40. Chapter Thirty - Nine: February 25 - March 21, 1995, Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I can fake with the best of anyone 
> 
> I can fake with the best of em all 
> 
> I can fake with the best of anyone 
> 
> I can fake it all 
> 
> Who's to know if your soul will fade at all 
> 
> The one you sold to fool the world 
> 
> You lost your self-esteem along the way." 
> 
> ~ Seether, "Fake It".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: Racial slurs.

Chapter 39: February 25 – March 21, 1995, Hogwarts

The fact that Matteo was a werewolf was not, apparently, a surprise to anyone from Beauxbatons. It was, however, shocking to most of Hogwarts. Luckily, having had Lupin last year, only a few people actually were hung up on the fact; most people just ignored it, or at worst, made jokes about the full moon to him in the hallways. The Slytherins, having been humiliated spectacularly now by my family, had decided instead to start torturing him. Matteo had taken to, instead, staying inside the Beauxbatons carriage.

In fact, the joy we all felt with the end of the second time had left us in a nearly halcyon state; the dry, cruel winds of March barely fazed any of us as we discussed the details of the second task.

"The riddles were completely insane, of course," Harry would explain eagerly, "But I figured them out pretty well – got tripped up on the hedge one – but I remembered Hermione, back in first year, helping me with the potions, and used logic for all of them. Guess I really picked up something, huh?"

Hermione beamed at him in response, blushing furiously.

The next Hogsmeade weekend, Hermione and Fred left on their own, going on a date with one another – they actually seemed to be really hitting it off, though they kept most of their relationship private, much to my happiness. Neville and Ginny also went out, but I could tell that they were really reaching the end of their relationship – though not fighting with each other, Neville actually often looked bored when they were hanging out, as though they had little left to talk about. I didn't pry, however; I didn't want to seem nosy, or like I was happy about it, or anything.

I walked out to the Grounds after the Hogsmeade visit, lying underneath the tree by the lake, reading my book on animagi from Hermione from Christmas. George and I had just gone for some sweets; neither of us really had any inclination to do much. Now he was off doing something with Lee Jordan, as I had requested time alone.

"Can I sit with you?" Neville asked above me. I looked at him and nodded, and he sat next to me in the grass.

"Where's Ginny?" I asked curiously.

"She went off to hang out with Luna," Neville paused, "Looks like this thing is ending quicker than I thought."

"Oh? I'm sorry," I responded, though privately I was rejoicing.

"Yeah. All we do anymore is snog," Neville admitted.

"Thanks for the information I didn't need," I responded honestly.

"You snog with George all the time, everywhere!" Neville laughed.

"Yes, well, I'm a hypocrite," I paused, "I thought you guys got along well?"

"Yeah, as friends. You enter a couple with someone; you end up talking  _way_ more, and without other people around. We have nothing left to say," Neville sighed, "It's alright, though. She's a lovely girl and everything, but we both knew from the beginning it wasn't going to last."

"You know what  _is_ surprisingly lasting, though?" I asked, looking at Neville in amusement.

"Fred and Hermione? Yeah, that's just bizarre," Neville paused, "Though they seem to really like each other."

"That's good," I said, "I want her to be happy."

"Me too," Neville looked out into the sky, playing with the grass with his fingers.

"How are the extractions going?" I asked.

"Alright. Organic chemistry is difficult, especially since I'm not a muggle, and I have little frame of reference," Neville paused, "But I'm getting the hang of it. My products are getting purer every time."

"That's great!" I praised.

"Yeah. Sprout's learning a lot, too. She's bought  _loads_ more muggle textbooks and is reading them voraciously. You should see her with them, she's acting like they're revelation from God or something," Neville chortled.

"That's hilarious," I grinned, "Really, wizarding elitism helps no one."

"Right?" Neville agreed, "Ah well. Taking it down one step at a time. How are things with McGonagall?"

I frowned. I still hadn't settled. I was all over the place in the theropod branch of  _Dinosauria_ ; some days I'd be a bird, other days a large carnivorous theropod. One day I had been a T. rex; McGonagall nearly had a heart attack. Luckily, I changed back rapidly; I didn't fit in her office. Most everything I changed into was something carnivorous; raptors were frequent visitors, and I was getting fairly comfortable with them, though it still didn't feel  _right_.

"It's going slowly," I finally answered, "And I'm getting frustrated."

"Well, I believe in you," Neville beamed.

"Thanks, Nev," I paused, "How is… erm… gender stuff?"

We hadn't discussed it in a while, given the looming threat of the second task, and the gloominess we felt after talking to my parents and Sirius. Neville frowned.

"Nothing's changed much. People are still referring to me as a boy," he ripped up some grass from the dirt, "Guess I'll just have to get used to it."

"That's complete and utter bullshit," I responded, "Your identity should be respected."

"People'll just tell me it's a made up thing," Neville muttered glumly.

"It's  _not_ , it's who you  _are_ , and the people who care about you should understand that," I paused, "Part of the problem, really, is that when I refuse to refer to you as a boy, no one picks up on it."

"Exactly," Neville groaned, "I either have to tell people, or deal with being misgendered."

"I'm so sorry, Nev," I whispered.

"It hurts every time, you know. Every time I'm referred to as a boy. Kind of makes me want to…" Neville choked on his words, "I dunno. Crawl out of my own skin? Stop being myself? Stuff like that."

"Oh Neville," I murmured sadly, patting him tenderly on the arm. He sighed heavily.

"I dunno when I'll be ready to tell people. Harry and Hermione, maybe eventually, I guess. It's not exactly something that I have ease letting escape from my mouth," Neville muttered.

"Well, you'll tell them when you're ready, and they'll be completely accepting when you do," I reassured.

"Thank you, Maggie," Neville smiled. There was a long pause as I worked up the courage in my throat to get out what I wanted to say.

"What… erm… the other day, when my parents were here… you acted really strange, when they talked about what Crouch's son might have been doing," I began. Neville's face immediately drained of color.

"Maggie, I don't tell anyone about that.  _Anyone_. It's not about you, or anybody, it's just… I… I'm incapable of discussing it," Neville sighed.

"It's okay," I answered hurriedly, "Forget I brought it up."

"Maggie?" a voice called out angrily. I looked up to see George approaching us, looking upset.

"What's up, George?" I asked worriedly.

"You said you wanted to be alone!" he accused.

 _Oh shit_. Neville's face mirrored my thought.

"It's my fault, George, I came over asking to talk – " Neville reassured.

"She wants to talk to you, but not hang around with me?" George yelled, "Come on, Maggie, what's up with that?"

"I just wanted to sit outside! You get bored when we do that!" I defended.

"Not that bored! I'd be willing to do that if that's what you wanted to do!" George argued, "We barely see each other anymore! And yeah, you're busy, but I feel like you're avoiding me! And you have time to gallivant with  _Neville_  –"

"Hey, mate, lay off her, it's been a trying term," Neville stood up, glaring at George.

"Oh come off it, Neville, it's not like she's  _in_ the tournament," George rolled his eyes, "And you've seen her all the time, haven't you?"

"What, no –"

"Oh don't lie, Ginny told me. Said that you see  _Maggie_ more than you see her! You guys are going to break up within a week,  _mate_ ," George snapped back sarcastically, "It's completely obvious what you're doing."

"He's doing nothing, George!" I stood up angrily, "He's going through some stuff right now! He doesn't want to just talk about it with anyone!"

"You should talk about it with your girlfriend! That's what they're for!" George yelled, "Come off it, there's only  _one_ reason why he's always talking to you –"

"Oh  _stop it_. He's talking to me because we're best mates, you  _know_ that," I snapped before George could reveal that Neville fancied me. I wanted to spare him the awkwardness of thinking that I was learning it for the first time.

"Yeah, well, we're a  _couple_ , I should take priority!" George demanded.

"You're not going through professional-league stuff right now!" I explained, "He really needs someone to talk to!"

"Why does it always have to be you? Why couldn't it be Hermione, or Harry? I understand maybe not Ginny, I mean you guys aren't as close, but you four are known for being practically incestuously close –"

"He doesn't want many people to know, okay?" I shouted, "Come on, George, you're being irrational!"

"Am I?  _Am I_?" George roared.

"Yeah!" I shrugged, looking at him angrily.

"Are you in love with Neville?" George asked.

 _Fuck_. I looked at him in shock, my mouth hanging open. I was faced with a clear choice: hurt George, or hurt Neville. One involved lying, one involved breaking up.

"No!" I responded, as adamantly as I could.

I hated myself for this choice.

"Come off it, George, you're acting ridiculous," Neville piped up, "We're just talking."

" _Right_ ," George answered sarcastically.

"You can literally ask anyone," I affirmed, "Come  _on_ , George!"

"This is ridiculous," George threw his hands in the air.

"George, I love  _you_ ," I assured, "Please, calm down, okay? I love you!"

George stared at me for a long time. He took a deep breath, and nodded.

"Okay. I'm sorry, I'm just… I'm a little paranoid. I'm sorry."

"It's okay," I answered, though I didn't feel like I meant those words.

"Look, George, we can lay off the talks, its fine," Neville offered.

"No, no… you guys are best mates, I can't do that," George shook his head, "Sorry. I'll just… go." He left, walking towards the castle. I looked at Neville, my face etched with shock.

"You should go after him," Neville nodded towards George with his head, "Go."

I grimaced apologetically at him and ran after George as fast as I could.

"George, please, I'm sorry," I murmured, hanging off of his arm, "Please, you believe me, right?"

"Yeah," George sighed, "I'm just… insecure."

"You shouldn't be," I murmured softly, looking into his eyes, "I love you, I do."

"I love you, too," George paused, giving me a kiss, "I just… I feel like things have stagnated, I guess. We don't talk as much as we used to. I don't feel like I know what's going on with you as much. That's all."

"Then let's talk more," I offered, "I really have been so overwhelmed with everything… please, George. Nothing would make me happier."

George nodded, and we went off to the Common Room together. I snuggled under his arm on the couch, resting my legs on top of his neatly.

"I just, I'm so worried about Harry, and about Voldemort, and everything that's been happening," I murmured softly against his chest, "I don't know what to do – how I'll act if war begins again – how to even  _prepare_ for that sort of thing…"

"The signs are getting worse, I completely understand," George murmured against my head, "I'm terrified too."

"I'm not ready for him to come back, George. I was counting on having my schooling finished – on  _Harry_ having his schooling finished – on having time to prepare so we're  _ready_ to face him when he gets back…"

"You know, Harry doesn't  _have_ to face You-Know-Who. You guys could… I dunno… go to America, if it came to that, finished school there," George offered.

"Voldemort would follow him," I answered confidently.

"Oh come on, that's ridiculous," George shook his head.

"No, trust me, he would follow him," I paused, "I can't tell you why, just… it's guaranteed."

George frowned at me, "This has to do with why he was targeted as a baby, doesn't it?"

"Yeah," I sighed, "It's bad, George. It's really bad."

George nodded, "Then you know what? If anyone can deal with the dark side, and You-Know-Who, and evil, at the ages of fourteen and fifteen, its you and your friends. Hell, you all dealt with this stuff when you were  _first years_."

"Good point," I admitted.

"You guys can do this," George paused, "And you won't be alone for any of it."

"Thanks, George," I murmured, kissing him on the cheek. We talked for a little while longer, but I was still shaken up somewhere over the fight; I knew this wouldn't be the end of it.

The castle was relatively quiet, now. Claire and Elena were always seen in each other's company, but happy and out and about, rather than slinking in the shadows. Ginny and Neville broke up amicably a few days after George's shouting match with us, admitting that their relationship had run its course. Fred and Hermione, on the other hand, were still going strong, and I hardly saw the girl anymore, as she was always in the company of Fred somewhere in the castle.

"I miss her, honestly," Harry admitted as we sat outside together, "She's part of our group, but she's always sucking face with Fred –"

"That can't be  _all_ they're doing," Neville shook his head.

"That's all  _I_ ever see," I rolled my eyes.

"Doesn't it seem out of character to you two?" Harry asked, "She never struck me as the… intense snogging type."

"She's not," we answered in unison.

"Reckon Fred's forcing her?" Harry asked gloomily.

"No," I answered confidently, "She always seems happy."

"If she's having fun, she's having fun," Neville sighed, "Can't really stop her from that without being, you know, horrible people."

"I guess," Harry muttered in annoyance.

The Friday after that – the nineteenth of March – I walked down to potions class expecting nothing out of the ordinary. In fact, I was ready for the weekend, fairly exhausted after a long week of changing into  _every species of troodontid_   _known, and some not known to boot_. I stood outside the door to the potion's classroom, where Parkinson and the Slytherin girls were all giggling heartily. I rolled my eyes, staring at my fingernails, trying to ignore them.

"Oh Johnson!" Parkinson practically sang.

"What?" I asked, not looking up from my nails.

"You  _really_ should read this," Parkinson giggled.

 _Fuck_ , I thought in annoyance,  _Skeeter again_. I walked over to her and grabbed the article from her hands, rolling my eyes.

**The Loneliness of Harry Potter**

**A boy like no other, perhaps – and a boy who could have been so easily condemned to a life without love, _writes Rita Skeeter_. However, the care and comfort of his life amongst the Johnsons seemed to save him from such a terrible fate – until this year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Rarely seen prior to this year without the company of his adopted sister, Maggie Johnson; or their friends Hermione Granger and Neville Longbottom, this year has seen Harry's pals quite preoccupied with other affairs.**

**Miss Johnson, Harry's adopted sister, is a distinctive individual at Hogwarts. Not quite resembling most of the student body, given her nearly half Native American heritage, she also "Has never quite fit in," says Pansy Parkinson, a pretty and vivacious fourth-year student, "She's constantly picking fights, and she threatened my boyfriend, Draco Malfoy, earlier this year. But she's pretty brainy, and all the teachers love her, so she never _really_ gets in trouble." Whether or not this molly coddling of a potentially violent and dangerous student is safe is one thing. It is quite another that she, usually the rock to which Harry Potter anchors, has been spending most of the past year in the company of one George Weasley, son of Arnold Weasley. The two, said to be in a relationship, have left Harry in the proverbial dust; a cruel move in his time of need during the Triwizard Tournament.**

**Furthermore** **, Harry's younger sister could hardly ever be counted on. Elena Johnson, a quiet girl and the forgotten member of the family, was controversially placed in Slytherin House earlier this year. "She doesn't really belong, but there you have it," Pansy Parkinson commented. She and her friend, Claire Dewar, are rarely seen apart; without either of his sisters available to him, the support system Harry had grown up with seems all but absent.**

**Furthermore, his other closest friends also appear to be unavailable for their friend. Neville Longbottom, a clumsy and unpopular boy, seemed to have struck gold in his more talented and attractive friends. However, his ambition appears to be without realism; and he has spent large amounts of time in the company of another Weasley child, Ginny. Rumors of their break up, however, swarm the castle. "It was only a matter of time," said one source. Whether or not this will return Harry Potter's least spectacular friend to him remains to be seen.**

**Finally, Harry Potter seems to be lovelorn on top of everything else. Hermione Granger, once never seen apart from Harry, is rumored to have been his long-term girlfriend for years. This, sadly, seems to have come to an end this year, as she has also been seen in a serious relationship with a Weasley – specifically, Fred Weasley, George Weasley's twin. It has been said frequently that she and Fred Weasley are always seen in compromising positions – even by heartbroken Harry Potter himself. Furthermore, how such a plain girl managed to attract such attention remains to be seen. It also appears that the Weasleys – especially the Weasley twins – appear bent on taking away everyone in Harry Potter's support group. Whether or not this reveals more nefarious motives in the family remains to be seen; what can be counted on, however, is Harry's need to trust more worthy candidates in the future.**

I looked up from the article and smirked at Parkinson, "How is this even  _newsworthy_?" I asked, though how Skeeter managed to hear much of the details in that article baffled me, "Come on, Parkinson, dig up something better than this."

Parkinson snorted loudly.

"Hermione and Harry never even dated, this article is ridiculous," I rolled my eyes, "Come off it."

Hermione, Harry, and Neville walked up then, and I showed them the article wordlessly. Hermione looked horrifically upset, though, and I gave her a long hug before we headed into the potions classroom.

"Harry, I'm sorry, I don't  _mean_ to not be around as much, I just –" Hermione hissed, looking nearly tearful.

"Hermione, it's  _fine_. If I had a new girlfriend I would be with her all the time too. I am completely not upset. This  _cow_ made it all up," Harry hissed. Hermione nodded, the tears still streaming rapidly down her cheeks.

"What I'm confused about, is how she'd know that Hermione and Fred have been… erm… occupied a lot, lately," I scowled, " _We_ all know because we've known their absence, but it's not like you're out in public snogging all over the place."

"We usually are talking!" Hermione hiccuped, "And usually in places he knows about –"

"You don't to describe the Weasley twins' knowledge of every nook and cranny of this castle," I shook my head in amusement.

"The only reason she could know is… erm…" Neville blushed furiously. I turned and glared at him angrily.

"What?" Hermione asked, looking at us in confusion.

"Bloody hell, Hermione, we were all talking about how you two were of disappearing, one day, and we made some jokes about you two snogging, that's all!" Harry groaned.

"But there was  _no one around_!" I hissed.

"Unless Skeeter has an invisibility cloak, she couldn't have known!" Neville agreed.

Hermione looked at us all, hurt etched on her face, "That's what you really think of me?"

I felt my mouth drop open before hurrying to close it. Harry grimaced and Neville looked upset.

"No, Hermione, we were just joking around, honest," Neville rushed to reassure.

"It's just… we're not used to seeing you like that, you know, you're a very serious, studious person, so we were laughing about it a little. Not because it's  _bad_  but because it was a change. And we're sorry," I apologized, "We shouldn't have."

Hermione sniffled and stared down at her cauldron, not saying another word.

 _Fuck_ , I thought, amazed at how much I was thinking that one singular word of late.

Hermione didn't spend much time talking to the rest of us for a little while after that. She also wasn't with Fred as much – once, when I went to the library to look up some experimental transfiguration terms, I saw her huddled in a corner, crowded behind her books. I sighed, and debated going to talk to her, before turning and walking back to the Common Room. We  _had_ done something wrong, and we needed to give her her space.

"My only question is," Neville scowled one afternoon as we all sat in the Great Hall, Hermione still nowhere to be seen, "Why would she target all of us? What kind of story is that? We're relative nobodies."

"Targeting Maggie isn't that much of a surprise," George rolled his eyes, "You and Harry are famous for your closeness, you  _have_  had your time taken up by me, and you are pretty venomous towards Skeeter, which would make her want to lash out in response."

"But why Neville, or Elena?" Harry frowned, "And why be so rude to you lot? She usually treats Mr. Weasley as dirt – she doesn't even get her name right! Why would she even  _name_  you three in her article?"

"Well… did any of us ever talk nastily talk about Skeeter? In a public place?" Neville asked.

"I… erm…." Fred frowned, "May have seen her in Hogsmeade. She asked me for an exclusive on Harry, you know, and I called her a cow. To her face. And then… left."

"And Neville remember? Our last date? We talked about Skeeter for a long time, how much we hated her," Ginny blushed. Everyone looked at her quizzically.

"Oh it's no secret we were running out of things to talk about," she muttered brusquely, picking up her fork and digging it into her steak and kidney pie.

"But Elena? Elena would never have said anything," I frowned.

"Maybe not, but Elena being a Slytherin  _is_ something of a scandal; at least, it was," Harry groaned, "Probably collateral damage. Skeeter decided to write a story about my closest peers and Elena got hit by default."

"Bullocks," I groaned, banging my head on the table angrily.

I was so angry about the whole affair, that even though it was Saturday, I walked up to McGonagall's office to work on my animagus studies. I knocked on the door, waiting patiently.

"Come in!" she answered brusquely, and I walked inside, closing the door behind me.

"Hey, can we practice today?" I asked calmly.

McGonagall looked down at her work, and then sighed, looking back up at me.

"Alright, Miss Johnson. I suppose you are angry about… the latest piece in the  _Daily Prophet_ about your family?" McGonagall asked. I nodded.

"Alright, get started Miss Johnson. Do  _try_ to limit yourself to animals that will fit inside of my office," McGonagall shook her head in bemusement.

I gritted my teeth and set to work. My first transformation was  _Utahraptor_ \- a large raptor, about the size of the raptors in the  _Jurassic Park_ series, though it of course looked nothing like it, given that it was a real animal. I was covered in feathers (as I… usually was since getting to this animal group,) and briefly clicked my claws against the floor. But it still wasn't right, and I immediately changed back into a human.

"Oh thank Merlin," McGoangall sighed, "That thing was terrifying."

"Evolution is crazy, professor," I grinned, trying again. I turned into many small, tree dwelling, almost-birds that were nondescript and even  _boring_. I knew each of these were wrong; none of them would help my anger. None of them were  _like_ me.

McGonagall sighed, looking at me, "Try one more, Miss Johnson, I have work to do."

I groaned, nodding, and transformed one more time. I was still small; I had weird tufts of feathers coming out of my butt and my tail ended short; I was covered in fluff, as usual, and my fingers were long and thin, extending out to hold up a thin membrane.

I squaked in surprise, but it still wasn't correct, and I very rapidly changed back.

"What  _was_  I?" I gasped in surprise. McGonagall's mouth was open in surprise.

"McGonagall,  _what was I_?" I demanded.

"I have no idea, Miss Johnson, but it was probably some type of dinosaur, same as you've always been lately," she answered brusquely.

"That wasn't  _any dinosaur_ ," I gasped, "I mean, it was, but it wasn't  _just_ any dinosaur. That thing was a  _dragon_ – or close to it – or something!"

"Miss Johnson, I will admit that the resemblance is striking, but whatever it is, it's not your final form," McGonagall paused, "You're not here to study dragon evolution, you're trying to pinpoint your animagus form."

I sighed heavily, "Why couldn't that have been my form? I could have studied myself, figured it out – oh man…"

"I understand the disappointment, but we have to focus," McGonagall paused, "The end of the year is coming up, and the longer this goes on, the more chances that people will ask questions. The longer this goes on, the worse your anger issues get. The longer this goes on, the more chances we have – from various angles – of you getting caught."

"I know," I groaned, running a hand through my hair, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be. You're passionate, it's what makes you able to do something like this," McGonagall praised, "Now I have exams to grade. I will see you next week." I agreed, leaving her office in confusion.

_That thing had four limbs – but many dragons have six limbs – perhaps they grew a new set… it's not uncommon for magical animals to do such athing… but the evolution of magical abilities is poorly understood… if I had more evidence, maybe, I could piece together how it happened – and how dragons diversified – are there any dragon fossils? No, there must not be, people would find them, muggles would find them, and say that they were not-bird dinosaurs that survived the mass extinction – but there can't be a sixty six million year ghost lineage, that's insane… but where else could dragons have come from?_

I was exceptionally deep in thought, and I immediately pulled a Hermione, running to the library and pulling every single book on dragons that I could find. There were many, but most were about them in the modern day – guides to different species, the differences between them, how to subdue them if necessary, if they had hoards and what kind ( _of course dragons and birds are related, they both like shiny things_ , I thought shrewdly,) what their fire was like, the whole nine. There was nothing tracking their relationships, and nothing about their ancestors.

I groaned loudly, banging my head on the desk. There were still some books I hadn't checked, but they appeared to be similar to the rest, repeating the same information.

 _Maybe books on magical creatures_? I thought. I walked through the stacks, looking for any and all generic books on magical animals.

"Maggie, could you please be quieter?" Hermione asked behind me, the first words she had said to me in days. I whirled around and looked at her, frowning.

"I'm sorry, I'm trying to figure something out," I apologized, "It's exceedingly frustrating."

"Well, what is it?" Hermione scowled, "The sooner you get out of here, the sooner I have my privacy back."

I sighed. I still felt terrible, "Well, I was practicing with McGonagall, and I turned into this really weird dinosaur – it was a lot like a bird, but it wasn't a bird, it didn't have a lot of close-to-bird traits. It was small, and it had fluff of course, but it had these long fingers – like the fingers of a bat – and they were holding up membranes.  _Wings_. It could glide, at the very least; maybe even  _fly_."

Hermione looked at me questioningly.

"This thing was old! I can usually tell – you know, we and all modern organisms, we've gone through the same amount of evolutionary time – you can't tell the difference between you and someone in the last generation, or someone even a thousand years ago – but a hundred million years? You can just tell when you are that thing. That thing is  _old_. It is old, and it had  _dragon wings_ ," I whispered.

"You… think you turned into the ancestor for dragons?" Hermione asked, frowning.

"I  _know_  I did," I frowned, "I'm going to call it –  _Draco prima_. But here's the thing," I gestured to all the other books, "There is not a  _single_ mention of dragon ancestors. Nothing. It's a ghost lineage of at least sixty six million years, probably longer – because there are  _no_ reports of non-bird dinosaurs after the extinction," I paused, "And dragons?  _Notorious_  for being mistaken for dinosaurs… and vice versa. That's not a coincidence.  _Dragons are a type of dinosaur_."

"Alright, but then what's your question?" Hermione asked.

"What's the ghost lineage? How did some dragons evolve a whole other set of limbs? How did the group as a whole evolve magical properties? Is there any fossil evidence for dragons that wizards have covered up? Has anyone actually  _thought_ about this?" I shook my head, "I haven't found anything."

"Wizards and witches aren't exactly known for their biological research of magical creatures," Hermione smirked.

"Well that's bullocks. Anyway, I'm looking into every book, seeing if I can find  _something_ – Hermione, I have to know," I paused, "I  _have_ to."

"Alright, alright. I'll help you," Hermione nodded. We spent hours and hours scowering the library, pulling every book, looking through all of them for  _some_ sort of mention.

"Look, maybe here – bones found in China –"

"Nah, they were just another giant mammal from the Miocene, look at the density –"

"Maybe this? They called it a pterosaur, but it was weird – muggles deemed it a  _chimera_ …"

"Chimera to muggles means it was multiple types of animals in one fossil – but what if it wasn't? What did they do with it?"

"They just separated out what they saw as different animals and then catalogued it – didn't say it was anything… The only reason it's even in this book is because it's a muggle studies book… the way wizards talk about this stuff…"

"It's practically patronizing, I agree," I groaned, slamming another book, "This has nothing."

"None of these things have anything," Hermione paused, "It's hopeless."

I growled angrily, bnging my head on the table, " _Sixty six million year ghost lineage._ It's as though dragons evolved, then disappeared altogether."

"Maybe they don't fossilize?" Hermione asked.

"Unless they evolved really strange bones… and then evolved back normal bones… no," I shook my head, "We know about dragon bones, they have magical properties, but all the same characteristics that cause normal bones to fossilize. And even if they did evolve magical bones that don't fossilize, there would be some sort of transition – there would have to be transitional forms in the fossil record."

"That makes sense," Hermione paused, "But you're forgetting – you found out about  _Draco prima_ by  **turning into it**. There are no fossils of it either – none that we know about, at any rate."

"That's true," I looked at her with a smile, "You sure you're not a scientist?"

"That's the difference between us, Maggie," Hermione smirked, "I'm good at  _everything_."

I stuck my tongue out at her and frowned, "What if I found fossils of this guy? It  _felt_ like just another dinosaur – a lot like some of the other little dinosaurs I turned into. They all had long fingers and short tails, and were feathered. They were… similar too, but different from, the closest relatives of birds – raptors, you know. It felt no different from then."

"Can you really tell the difference in the bones?" Hermione asked, "I've started transforming – so far I've mainly been things like cats and dogs, honestly – and I barely notice anything except  _this is wrong_."

"When you've transformed as many times as I have, you start to notice differences," I paused, "I mean, I can't tell differences in bones, but… if it hadn't had those wings, I would have thought it was just another dinosaur. Frankly, I can barely tell the difference between  _birds_ and dinosaurs."

"They are the same thing, you say," Hermione smirked, "Why wouldn't dragons be?"

"Because dragons, as a  _group_ , are magical," I paused, "I did turn into a phoenix, once – you can decidedly tell the difference.  _Draco prima_ wasn't magical in the slightest."

"Alright, I believe you," Hermione sighed, "It's getting late. We should really get to bed."

I groaned, "This is going to keep me up all night."

"Maybe you need to get out into the field? Look for fossils yourself?" Hermione suggested.

"I don't have any idea where I'd start," I sighed, "And with everything going on here – Harry, Voldemort, the screwed up nature of the wizarding world… how would I learn?"

Hermione smiled slightly, "Maybe one day, it'll be calmer?"

"Oh god, you mean, one day my life could be normal?" I shook my head in disbelief, "Erm,  _how_ long have you known me?"

Hermione giggled, "You have a good point."

I looped my arm with hers, beaming at her. She smiled hesitantly back.

"I  _am_ sorry, Hermione," I paused, "Really."

Hermione smiled a little more now, "I forgive you. I'm sorry, I just… I really do have feelings for Fred, and the fact that I  _have_ feelings for someone other than Harry is so shocking that I… reacted enthusiastically."

I nodded in understanding.

"But it's the same situation, you know. I became friends with him, got to know him well… and then the rest followed," Hermione frowned, "I don't think I  _can_ fall for people I'm not good, close friends with."

For a minute, I thought of how I had fallen in love with both Neville and George, and no one else. But then I was reminded of the many people I found attractive, and knew that there was a difference between  _I would kiss this person_ and  _I love this person_.

"Did you ever fall for Neville?" I blurted out without thinking. Hermione looked at me shrewdly.

"No… I don't know why, but I've always seen him as like a brother," Hermione answered slowly.

"Yeah, that makes sense," I agreed, looking anywhere but at Hermione.

"Do you have something you want to tell me?" she asked. My mind immediately panicked – tell her, having someone to confide in, and risk George finding out… or the opposite.

"No," I answered calmly.  _Can't risk George finding out I lied to him_. Hermione looked at me skeptically as we walked through another corridor.

"You'll flee, if you know what's good for you!" a gravely voice said around a few corners. I only heard him faintly, but I knew instantly it was Moody. Hermione looked at me in fear and we both crouched against the wall.

"You – you can't threaten me!" the shaking voice of Karkaroff responded.

"Yeah? Well,  _someone_ has it out for that boy, and I'm determined to find out  _who_ ," Moody growled.

"You have no proof! None!"

"Yeah? Well Snape tells me you've been talking to him. 'Bout the  _mark_."

Hermione and I looked at each other in shock.

"I – you – you don't trust Snape, do you? I mean, that's  _laughable_ –"

"I admit  _I_ do not trust Snape, Karkaroff, but Dumbledore does, and for now, that's enough," Moody growled, "You keep going on about the mark, drawing attention to it – makes me think you want it to seem like you're  _scared_."

"I am – I am scared! All the people I put away –"

"Yes," Moody growled, "All those people. Only way you could redeem yourself is… well, if you delivered Potter to the Dark Lord yourself."

"That's absurd!"

"Is it?" Moody roared, "Is it! You show up, and act indignant – act  _scared_ – to throw us off your scent! Or do you forget that it was once my job to think like dark wizards do?"

"You can't – you can't  _prove_  –"

"No, I can't," Moody chuckled, "But just know, Karkaroff – I'm watching you – and one wrong step, one slip up – and I've got you."

Karkaroff made sounds as though to walk away.

"You know, Karkaroff, if there is  _one thing_ I hate, it's a Death Eater who walked free."

The clunking of Moody went the other way – but Karkaroff was approaching us. I looked at Hermione in a panic, and the two of us started running through the corridors, back towards the library.

"Who's there?" shouted Karkaroff, "Who is that?" And now, he was running.

"Run!" I shouted at Hermione, and we sprinted as fast as we could – but the corridors impeded whatever my sense of super speed was, and Hermione and I were both middle-age teenagers, still not fully grown, and short to boot – Karkaroff had caught up to us. He grabbed us both by our collars and held us back angrily.

" _What did you hear_?" he hissed angrily. I struggled heavily, entering a panic.

"Nothing! Nothing! We heard nothing!" Hermione protested.

"You lie – you heard everything – "

"No! We didn't!" I begged at the top of my lungs, "Let us go!"

"I'm afraid I cannot just  _let you go –_ now that you know – you'll tell everyone…"

"So you  _are_ after my brother! You  _are_ trying to get him killed!" I shriekd angrily, and immediately started kicking him as hard as I could, screaming in anger. He dropped Hermione and me in shock and Hermione backed away, pulling out her wand.

"No,  _stupid_ girl, you know I was a Death Eater – and if you know,  _everyone_  will know, and they'll all start accussing me like that bloody Moody –"

"I don't believe you!" I screamed.

"S – stupefy!" Hermione shouted, and a red stream of light went and hit Karakaroff in the chest. He keeled over on the floor.

"What the hell – Hermione!" I shouted.

"I just stunned him," she answered simply, "We shouldn't stick around, come on."

We sprinted together off to the Common Room, reaching the portrait hole and breathing heavily.

"Do you think he's after Harry?" Hermione asked breathlessly, hunched over and panting.

"I don't know, but I know that we're not safe as long as he's around," I frowned, "We have to tell someone."

Hermione swallowed, "Who would we tell? Moody is already suspicious of Karkaroff. I'll bet my last Knut that Dumbledore is as well. Write to your Mum, but let's be quiet for now – we have to keep our heads down. If Karkaroff gets word we're snooping around…"

I nodded, looking at her fearfully, "Yeah. We keep quiet. Act like we're not going to do anything. Karkaroff won't want to draw attention to himself by coming after us." Hermione nodded, still looking terrified, and I reached over to hug her tightly.

"You claim my life will be, normal?" I hissed in her ear. She laughed, though it was a nervous one, and looked at me with a smirk.

"How is my life any more normal than yours?"

"Good point," I nodded, grinning, and we walked back into the Common Room together.

That Monday, Karkaroff wasn't at the table in the Great Hall – wherever he was eating dinner, it wasn't there. I breathed a sigh of relief as I walked up to the table, sitting down with my friends.

"Hi guys," Hermione greeted softly, walking up behind me.

"Hermione!" Harry beamed.

"You're back!" Neville grinned happily.

Fred leapt up and gave her a tight hug, spinning her around on his feet. Hermione giggled loudly, sitting down next to me.

"Maggie reminded me last night that it's not your fault that you were overheard. We all rag on each other sometimes," Hermione paused, "Lord knows I've made fun of each of you without the person being made fun of present."

"Wait, what do you say about me?" Harry asked in surprise.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Neville asked cheekily. I laughed appreciatively, probably for a little too long – George looked at me again and I quickly stopped, staring down at my food.

The post owls started flying in, and Hermione looked up eagerly.

"I took out a subscription to the  _Daily Prophet_ ," Hermione explained, "Have to keep up with the news… or really, lack thereof."

"Smart," I nodded eagerly.

"Always can count on our Hermione," Harry praised happily.

I looked, though, as an owl approached us, and dropped a letter on my plate. I looked at it in surprise, and then back up at Hermione.

"I'm not expecting any mail," I stated in confusion. But then another letter landed on Hermione's plate. Then another, on Ginny's. Neville, Fred, and George also got letters. And suddenly, they started piling up – owls swooped through the hall, dropping dozens of letters on all of our plates. I looked over at the Slytherin table in worry, and Elena was getting a pile of them too.

"What… could this be?" Hermione whispered. Harry was getting none of the letters.

"Well, I'm getting this over with," I grunted, opening up a letter. The lettering looked like words that had been cut out of the  _Daily Prophet_.

**_You hAve leaD HarRy PotTer astray. He DeServeS beTtEr. YoU And your FamIly shoULD Go BACK to AmErIcA, fiLtHy ImMiGrant!_ **

I looked at the letter in half shock, half amusement. I opened another letter, which also called me a "filthy half-breed," and another really delightful one that called me a savage. Well, quite a few of them called me a savage.

"Ours are just calling us weasels," Fred commented.

"Really, you would think these people would be more creative," George shook his head.

"Mine says I don't deserve to be friends with Harry," Neville chortled, "That's a lark."

Hermione, however, looked most upset. I took some of her letters – and they were the worst of all.

" _You are a wicked girl. Harry Potter deserves better. Go back where you came from muggle_ ," I read aloud, "Fucking hell."

" _You are a dirty Arab who should never have hurt Harry Potter_ ," Neville read aloud, dropping the letter immediately afterwards in disgust, "Wow. Is racism contagious? I need to see a healer immediately."

" _Harry Potter can do much better than the likes of you,"_  Fred read, "Well, at least there aren't any slurs in this one…"

" _I read in_ Witch Weekly  _about how you are playing Harry Potter false and that boy has had enough hardship and I will be sending you a curse by next post as soon as I can find a big enough envelope_ ," George frowned, "Hermione better stop opening these soon."

" _Your ancestors should have fried in the gas chambers_ ," Ginny's jaws dropped open, "Holy shit! Holy  _shite_!"

"Oh my god burn that one, get rid of it, I want it nowhere near me," I hissed.

"That's the worst thing I've ever heard," Neville grimaced, "Oh my god, get rid of it."

" _You are a filthy mudblood harlot, you deserve to die_ ," Fred read angrily, "Oh that is  _it_ , I am going to – I – aurgh!"

Fred had opened up another envelope. A yellow-green liquid gushed all over his hands, which were erupting in large yellow boils.

"Undiluted bobotuber pus!" Neville and I shouted in unison.

"Fred, go, get to the hospital wing, go now," Hermione urged, "It's okay, go!"

Fred looked at her, clearly upset, but ran off, swearing in pain at the top of his lungs. I took the letter that he had been reading from his spot.

" _You deserve to be boiled in frog spawn_ ," I frowned, "I don't think they know their chemical substances much."

"That's not funny," Hermione frowned.

"I had to crack some sort of joke! Look at this, Hermione? And lord knows what's been sent to Elena, and how she's taking it! Her mind isn't exactly up for extreme persecution!" I shouted.

"This is insane," Harry paused, "Guys, get rid of them. Get rid of the lot. Every last one, come on," Harry urged. I ran over to Elena at her table. Her face was covered in tears, and she was shaking over a pile of opened letters – even clawing at her wrists.

"Okay, okay," I whispered, grabbing all the letters and shoving them at Harry, "Elena, go up to the Hospital Wing, and talk to your therapist, they're still there, right?" Elena nodded and I grabbed her arm, pulling her with us and dropping her off at the wing. The rest of us reached the Common Room, and Harry began pouring the letters into the fire.

"I," he threw a letter into the fire, "Bloody," and another, "Hate," and another, "This," and another, "World!" he roared, pouring the rest of them into the fireplace.

He turned around and faced us angrily, "No one threatens my friends and gets away with it."

"All the letters were anonymous, mate," George frowned, "And you see what happens when you go after the great cow."

"Well, she's not going to get away with this," Harry growled, "If it's the last thing I do."

"I hate her," Hermione whispered softly, looking furious, "I  _hate_ her."

I looked over at her worriedly. In that moment, she resembled me a little too much for my own comfort.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to my friend Sam for giving me a name for Yi, the dragon-like dinosaur that Maggie turns into in this chapter. Yi was only discovered this past year; she couldn't have known its name yet! Please let me know what you think; thanks!


	41. Chapter Forty: March 22 - May 28, 1995, Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "And on that day they'll tell you 
> 
> That life hummed on with no clue 
> 
> The warning signs were all dismissed or shouted down 
> 
> So it goes 
> 
> The kings all failed to tell us 
> 
> The madmen failed to sell us 
> 
> On what would then befall the only life we know 
> 
> Were they burning signal fires 
> 
> To guide us to the fields? 
> 
> Or building funeral pyres? 
> 
> The outcome of a final appeal 
> 
> The city lines are down 
> 
> The kerosene's run out 
> 
> The fracturing of all we relied upon 
> 
> Let's shed this unclean skin 
> 
> And start to feel again 
> 
> 'Cause all the shoulders 
> 
> On which to cry are gone." 
> 
> ~ Rise Against, "Endgame".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sexual content within

Chapter Forty: March 22 – May 28, 1995, Hogwarts

The hate mail didn’t stop coming in for any of us after that – not for an entire week. None of us opened the letters, however, having learned our lesson from the first day of letter hell. Fred’s hands were completely bandaged up, but this only apparently strengthened his resolve to come to Hermione’s aid on a frequent on regular basis. In fact, he was practically molly coddling her, walking with her to almost every class, and glaring at anyone who so much as looked at her the wrong way. Hermione, though disgruntled, seemed to at least appreciate the sentiment.

“I don’t need your help,” she stated one afternoon as Neville, Harry, Hermione and I walked to Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Fred insisted on coming with, “I _can_ look after myself, you know.”

“I know, but it makes me feel better to be here, where I can stop a racist, muggleborn-phobic son of a bitch from coming after you,” Fred hissed, looking around the halls wildly. Hermione flushed madly, her face clearly fighting between flattery and irritation.

When we left Defense Against the Dark Arts that day, Hermione stayed behind for a few minutes while Harry, Neville and I awkwardly hung around the door. She then came out, looking disgruntled.

“Rita’s _definitely_ not using an Invisibility Cloak!” Hermione grunted, “Moody says he hasn’t seen her _once_ this entire year, not since the Tournament opened! She hasn’t been on the _grounds_ , she hasn’t been at any of the tasks, and she _certainly_ hasn’t been inside the castle.”

I frowned in irritation, “Then how the bloody hell does she know anything about us?”

“Rumors? Asking people?” Neville suggested.

“Maybe… she’s talking to the Slytherins? And they overhear us?” Harry suggested.

“Maybe,” Hermione snapped, angrily shaking her fists at her sides, “I want to know how she has heard our private conversations! How did she find out about Hagrid’s mum, huh? How?!”

I laughed humorlessly, “Maybe’s she’s bugged the place, like muggle spies or sommat.”

“Bugged?” Neville asked curiously.

“Muggles have technology to hear things in different places, little devices that record conversations,” Harry explained, “Also, they record video footage. They’re pretty neat.”

“Oh for the love of Merlin!” Hermione snapped, “Could you lot _please actually read_ Hogwarts: A History?”

“Good lord, Hermione, you have the book memorized, why would we?” I looked at her in shock.

“All those substitutes for magic that muggles use – electricity, computers, radar, everything – they all go haywire around Hogwarts, there’s too much magic in the air. No, Rita’s using magic to eavesdrop, she must be… If I could just find out what it is… ooh, if it’s illegal, I’ll have her…” Hermione smiled cruelly.

“Hermione, you have too many projects,” Neville shook his head sadly.

“I don’t care! She’s making our lives hell!” Hermione snapped, “Oooh, I will _get her_ , I’m determined!”

However, if she was going to get Rita Skeeter, she would have to wait. The work was piling up higher and higher before the Easter holidays, and I was so overwhelmed that I was prone to lashing out more and more. One afternoon, hunched over complicated calculations for Arithmancy in the library, I was so angry that I couldn’t figure it out I actually grabbed underneath the table and flipped it over, screaming at the top of my lungs.

“Miss Johnson! Detention! And please, remove yourself from my library!” Madam Pince shouted in shock.

I was breathing heavily, staring at the table, growling softly under my breath. Neville grabbed my arm, Hermione staring at the scene in complete and utter shock.

“Come on, Maggie, come on, come with me,” Neville urged, pulling me from the library. We walked out to the Grounds and I looked at Neville, still furious, my fingers digging into my palms. I clenched my teeth angrily and glared at him.

“What.”

“Maggie, you need to count to ten. Take a deep breath,” he breathed in deeply too, urging me to continue with his hands, “That’s it. Now, count.”

“One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten,” I muttered, looking at him in irritation.

“Good, good,” Neville encouraged, “Now, look at me.” I looked up and into his eyes. My heart rate immediately quickened.

“Now, tell me what’s going on,” Neville murmured, walking over to me and holding onto my forearms, “Please.”

I looked at him sadly, “Do you really want to know all my secrets, Neville Longbottom?”

Neville’s eyebrows rose into his hairline, “Is this really happening right now?”

I let out a forced laugh, “Yes.”

“Alright, hit me. With everything,” Neville looked at me a little intensely, “Don’t hold back.”

“Alright, not _all_ my secrets,” I amended, “But, most of them.” We sat down together underneath the tree again, cross-legged in the grass. It was getting warmer out, and I took off my cloak and sweater, staring out at the lake in thought. There was no way I was telling him how I felt.

I looked over at him – his hair was getting curlier the longer it got, and he was starting to let stubble stay on his face most days. He needed a haircut, but I didn’t mind. His eyes were still deliciously brown; his skin was still so much paler than mine it contrasted brilliantly in the sunlight. His face was like an oval, with a moderately sized nose, and freckles everywhere. He was tall, and a little round around the middle. And as he smiled at me, I was overwhelmed with how he was the most beautiful person I had ever known.

Well, I wasn’t telling him how I felt _now_ , at any rate.

“I figured out a way to work out my anger,” I murmured softly. Neville nodded, watching me intently.

“I’ve been training to be an animagus with McGonagall for one and a half years,” I murmured as softly as I could, so no one could possibly hear me over the wind. Neville’s eyes widened in shock.

“Really? That’s what you two have been working on?” he gasped.

“Yeah,” I paused, “Thanks for not asking, by the way. I’m really not supposed to tell anyone.”

“Of course, of course,” Neville paused, “Continue.”

“Well, typically it takes one to two years, so I’m still okay, but I’m in the part where I change into a lot of different animals, until finally I sort of – decide – on the right one. Well, I’ve been working so hard I’ve gone through _many more_ than the usual number of animals – by now, I should have found my form. And I haven’t,” I scowled, “So instead of helping me relieve my anger – by turning me into an animal that is fierce in some way, an angry animal actually will decrease my anger – it’s adding to it, by making me frustrated. I’ve never, _ever_ , had a problem with transfiguration before.”

Neville smirked, “Maggie, perspective. You’re frustrated because you, a pre-O.W.L. student with no advanced training, are having trouble doing a bit of transfigurative magic, that literally a handful of people have accomplished in this century, in sooner-than-average amount of time,” Neville grinned.

I rolled my eyes at him, “Yeah, I know, but I mean, don’t you get frustrated at _artificially breeding a type of plant that can block curses_? It’s not like _that’s_ something the average fourth year just… does.”

“Good point,” Neville scowled, “Thanks for reminding me. I gotta try a new extraction method.”

I laughed appreciatively, “And just… I’m so worried about everything with Voldemort, right now. There isn’t much I can do, but I feel… hopeless. And then there’s that whole thing with Skeeter, and the letters, and the fact that people are so horrible, and then…” I took a deep breath, “Things have been awkward with George and me, though I think you kind of knew that.”

“Yeah,” Neville frowned apologetically, “I’m sorry.”

“And I just… I don’t know how to fix it,” I ran my hand through my hair, “I don’t know what to do.”

“Have you thought about… breaking up with him?” Neville suggested. My head snapped up and I looked at him.

“I want to… try and salvage it… first,” I choked out, “I think.”

Neville sighed, “Alright.” There was a long pause as we stared at each other.

“And… I admit I have a silly problem,” I paused.

“Oh?” Neville raised his eyebrows.

“I mean… okay, I transformed into this weird… thing. It was a dinosaur, but it had wings like a dragon, not like a bird,” I hissed, “And it… I’m pretty sure it was the ancestor to _all_ dragons. But it was a not-bird dinosaur, meaning that it… meaning there’s a good sixty six million years with no knowledge of dragon evolution, probably more.”

“Ah,” Neville paused, “And you want to figure it out.”

“There’s nothing!” I shouted in annoyance, “Nothing! Not a single fossil, piece of evidence, not even a _note_ of muggles finding something weird and then explaining it non-magically. Nothing!”

“I’m sorry Maggie,” Neville was slightly smirking, but also frowning apologetically.

“I’ve looked in _every book_ in that damn library – Hermione’s even helped – we’ve scoured everywhere, there’s literally not a shred of evidence! The only way I could figure it out is if I – if I – if I bloody well went on an expedition! I don’t have paleontological training! I don’t have knowledge of deserts, or digs, or how to find fossils!” I groaned, “And who would do that, eh? Who in the wizarding world would hold my fascination with me?”

“I would,” Neville offered. I looked at him in shock.

“You – you would?”

“Yeah, course,” Neville paused, “I know I’m more of a plant person, but I do enjoy animals – and this is a mystery, isn’t it? I’m just as curious as you are.”

“Oh,” I was dumbstruck.

“Hell, you go on about dinosaurs and fossils and all of that so much – why, I’d love to learn about it just to understand what the blood hell you’re even talking about,” Neville grinned, “So of course, I’d go with you.”

“Really? You’re really saying this?” I asked again. Neville nodded, grinning wider now.

“Of course I would go. Come on, Maggie. When have I ever abandoned you?” he asked.

“Erm… briefly, first year, and then even briefer, third year,” I pointed out. Neville frowned.

“Alright, first year I was a kid scared of getting beat up, and last year I just… erm… I was working through some really dumb personal stuff. I was immature beyond belief, and I apologize,” Neville admitted.

 _Yeah, like you’re in love with me, and it killed you to see me with George. I get it_ , I thought to myself.

“So, how will we do this, then? Neither of us is even slightly prepared to do such a thing,” I countered.

“Books?” Neville suggested. I laughed out loud.

“No, seriously. Books. It’s the only resource we have, barring – I dunno – going to a muggle university or something.”

I looked at him sharply, “We could also do that.”

“ _What_?”

“I mean it. Your training in botany – mine in anatomy, through transfiguration – both of our training in math through arithmancy – we don’t have a lot of catch up to do in the muggle sciences. We could ask Dumbledore to help us, get the credentials we need, attend a muggle uni. Do courses in – I could do biology, you could do botany, or something like that – then keep going, get advanced degrees, go on digs. This is all provided we live through whatever is happening next with Voldemort, but why the bloody hell not?” I asked.

“We both want to be Hogwarts Professors,” Neville agreed, “That could only help – we could have some of the most unique work in our fields that anyone has ever seen, at least in Britain – lord knows we’d have a leg up on any competition…”

“And it’s not like Sprout or McGonagall are going to retire the moment we graduate. We’ll have some time,” I was grinning happily, “We can scour the globe – and when we _are_ professors, we can spend our summers continuing the work, looking in deserts and mountains all over – we’ll have the time!”

“This is brilliant!” Neville beamed.

“And it’s not like neither of us can handle adventures – we’re old pros!” I laughed.

“We’re doing this. We start studying, now. What exams do muggles take to get into school? I forget, but I’ve heard of them I think,” Neville paused.

“A levels? Something like that,” I shrugged, “But yeah, I think there’s a chance we’ll have to take them. Let’s get some textbooks, start studying, you know, getting ready.”

“It’ll be hard, we have O.W.L.s next year,” Neville frowned.

“Worth it?” I offered. He grinned.

“Yeah. Write to your mum, ask her to bring the books up, or send them or something,” Neville looked at the sky, “Ready to go back to Arithmancy?”

“As long as you’re with me, yeah,” I smiled, before realizing what I said.

_Stick with it, don’t change your expression, to make it seem like that was odd._

Neville smiled strangely, though I suppose it wasn’t strange since I knew what was behind that smile, “Of course, Maggie. I always am.”

My heart leapt up into my throat and lodged there, but I nodded and we walked back up into the castle.

Soon enough, my mum sent me the books in a parcel, not even asking any questions. Thus, on top of our other work, Neville and I would spend hours in the library, pouring over their contents, quizzing each other on the muggle sciences – biology, physics, chemistry, geology, the whole lot. We were intense about it, purposefully making up the hardest questions possible.

“Describe the entire electron transport chain of cellular respiration, with a diagram,” Neville ordered me, shoving a bit of parchment on me on one of these long evenings.

“Alright, well _you_ give me the chemical reactions of the Krebs Cycle,” I countered. We both quickly sketched out our notes and then handed back the parchment to each other, checking our work against the textbooks.

“You missed one of the proteins – here”

“Yeah, well you missed an intermediary – this one is rather important, Neville, you keep forgetting it.”

“Bloody hell, let me study it until it falls out of my ears. You in the meantime, study your electricity –“

“ _Nooooo!_ ”

“I don’t care how much you hate it, we have to know it. Study!” Neville ordered. I grimaced at him, burying my face in the physics book.

“I don’t give a _crap_ about electrical fields! And the fact that you define them with calculus makes this so much worse,” I sobbed into the book.

“Remember, _Draco prima_ ,” Neville reminded. The name stiffened my resolve, and I nodded. I took a piece of parchment and began writing out copious, detailed notes, forcing myself to learn the concepts.

“Alright, I need help,” Neville begged. I turned back to the Krebs cycle, urging him to memorize each chemical step carefully. His memory was still bad, but we were working on ways to combat it, and he was getting the hang of things pretty quickly, despite being a wizard.

I spent most of my nights in the library with him, now, which I knew couldn’t go unnoticed by George. One night, when I got back before Neville (who was insisting on staying behind and _memorizing the entire periodic table because **he was a crazy person**_ ), I ran into George in the hallway.

“Maggie, what are we,” George stated simply. I looked at him sadly, swallowing slightly.

“We’re boyfriend and girlfriend,” I urged.

“Are we? When was the last time we went on a date, eh? Or when was the last time we even spent time together?” George urged.

“I just… I want to figure out some things for McGonagall, and I’ve ben studying…”

“I know. With _Neville_ ,” George scowled.

“He wants to figure things out for Sprout! We’re both studying biology, we’re helping each other out –“

“Right. All cozy in the library,” George shook his head, “No one around to see you –“

“Please, George, I’m not cheating on you, I promise,” I begged.

“Yeah, well, you’re certainly not being with me, either,” George scowled.

“George, I _love you_ ,” I repeated, though saying the words was starting to feel hollow.

“Yeah?” George scoffed, “Prove it.”

I swallowed heavily, but dragged him into a broom closet. I pushed him up against the wall and started kissing him, eagerly moving my lips against his. But it felt _wrong_. I hadn’t done this because I wanted to; I hadn’t done this because I was turned on, or excited, or overwhelmed with how I felt about him. I was doing this because… because I had to prove to him that I loved him. And it felt absolutely, and completely, wrong.

Still, I wanted to do it – I _wanted_ to prove it to him – and so we continued to make out, his tongue moving eagerly against my mouth, his hips grinding up against mine slowly and him gripping my hips tightly. I pulled back from him and, nervously, lifted my shirt over my head.

 _After all, Neville’s seen you without a shirt_ , I justified to myself.

 _At the time, you weren’t doing anything sexual with Neville_ , a voice in the back of my head reminded. I ignored it as George pulled his over his head, revealing his Quidditch muscles, which I did still deeply appreciate. I ran my hands eagerly over his abs and chest as he kissed me passionately, fumbling eagerly for my bra and pulling it off me. Now this, Neville hadn’t seen, which was good. He moaned and groaned loudly against my lips as he fondled my breasts, and I kissed him back a little more eagerly now, the stimulation actually managing to turn me on somewhat. I still felt… off… in the back of my head, but it was better now than it had been at the beginning.

Eventually, we climbed back out of the broom closet, both of us straightening ourselves up. George grinned at me, and I smiled at him, though the off feeling was taking over now that he no longer was touching me.

“Alright, I’m sorry. I’ll try to not get so mad,” George reassured. I nodded, and he held my hand, walking back to the Common Room together.

This wasn’t an isolated incident. After that night, whenever I finished studying with Neville, I purposefully found George and went to do something with him – more often than not, to make out, but sometimes to go a little farther, and sometimes to just cuddle. Still, eighty percent of the time my sentiments felt forced – I wasn’t doing it for myself, I was doing it for him, to prove to him that I loved him. And I justified it to myself because, well, at this point, I _did_ have to prove it. Still, I refused to have sex with him; I wasn’t ready, and proving my love to him wasn’t worth that.

The Easter Holidays came, and I was still bowled over with studies and work, forcing myself now to go to McGonagall meetings.

“Miss Johnson, you have to keep up with it, or else you’re never going to find your form!” she urged. I shrugged wordlessly.

“Professor McGonagall, this is getting demoralizing, alright? I feel like I am not cut out for this any more,” I muttered.

“Yes, you _are_ ,” McGonagall promised, walking up to me, “I swear it.”

“Let’s just admit it! I’m not as good of a transfiguration student as I thought!” I sobbed, falling into a chair and holding my face in my hands.

“Yes, you _are_ ,” McGonagall insisted again, putting her hand on my shoulder, “You can do this. You just need to keep at it, and not give up.”

I nodded, looking up at her, “I’m just exceedingly scared, Professor.”

“I know,” McGonagall paused, “But I’ll repeat a third time – _you can do this_.”

And so I kept going – transforming into every dinosaur under the sun, desperately trying to find my correct animal.

Fred eventually calmed down after the initial panic over Hermione’s ruined reputation, and instead spent a good portion of his time making up for his overreaction. Hermione clearly appreciated it, and the two were closer than ever; I rarely saw one without the company of the other. I never would have guessed this even as early as six months ago – but they were doing well, and who was I to deny either of them happiness?

The summer term, thus, began with very little incident, or things worth mentioning. Courses were hard; animagus transformations were getting frustrating; muggle science was not easily self-taught; I was constantly trying to prove my love for George; and things seemed quiet.

In the last week of May, Harry, Hermione, Neville and I started to leave Transfiguration together, Neville eagerly talking about his new extraction method that actually appeared to be working.

“It’s because you’ve actually learned some chemistry, I’m convinced,” I laughed.

“Oh man, can you think of all the things we could do with muggle science? We’d basically revolutionize potions, herbology, transfiguration – everything!” Neville gasped.

“Potter! A word!” McGonagall called out behind us just as we were about to leave the classroom. We all turned around and Harry walked up to her, the rest of us torn on whether or not to leave ourselves.

“You lot can stay,” McGonagall rolled her eyes, muttering, “Honestly.” Harry walked up to her desk as the three of us watched curiously.

“You are to go down to the Quidditch field tonight at nine o’clock, Potter. Mr. Bagman will be there to tell the champions about the third task,” McGonagall explained. Harry stood there, clearly waiting for more instructions.

“You can go! This wasn’t some huge revelation, Potter!” McGonagall scoffed. So that evening, as we all sat in the Common Room studying, Harry went off to see what the third task would exactly be. I sat with George, studying my geology textbook, attempting to learn the different chemical compositions of minerals.

“I still don’t understand why you’re learning this muggle stuff,” George commented, idly playing with my hair.

“It’s for Transfiguration, George, I told you already,” I answered back, though I wasn’t really paying attention to him, as I scribbled notes in the margins of my book.

George scoffed skeptically, moving away from me and casting spells into the air. I continued to focus on my book, trying to not be annoyed that he clearly didn’t make _any_ sort of effort to understand what I was on about. Admittedly, I hadn’t told him the story about _Draco prima_ , but I was used to him trusting that I was telling him the truth.

Our one-year anniversary was coming up, but I didn’t much feel like celebrating.

It was getting late, and there was still no sign of Harry. I frowned, looking up from my book at Hermione and Neville. They both looked at me and nodded, and we all snuck out of the Common Room, walking down to the grounds.

“Wonder what’s taking so long?” Hermione asked curiously as I lead us through some secret passageways to streamline the process. We reached outside in no time, walking out to the Quidditch Pitch.

The entire thing was covered with trees – absolutely filled to the brim, a denser forest than I had ever seen. I frowned, seeing no sign of Harry or the other champions.

“What’s going on?” Neville was frowning, and I ran around the stadium, looking around madly.

“Harry? Harry!” I called out, “Harry where are you?”

Hagrid was walking towards us, whistling happily. We all ran to him in a hurry.

“Hagrid, have you seen Harry?” I begged.

“He came down to talk about the third task – and he never came back…” Neville furthered.

“We’re really worried, with everything that’s been happening – please…” Hermione urged.

“Righ’,” Hagrid frowned, “I’ll get Fang.” He went into his hut and brought back out the dog, leading him around the grounds. Fang eventually must have gotten some sort of a scent, as we all hurried into the Forbidden Forest.

“Bloody hell, why would he go in here?” Neville demanded. Where he used to look ill whenever he came in here, now he just looked annoyed.

“I have no id – Merlin’s beard!” Hagrid shouted. We weren’t very far in, but Angelina was collapsed on the ground, unconscious.

“One o’ you lot, can yeh –“ but Hagrid’s words were unnecessary. Hermione had already pulled out her wand and cast, “ _Ennervate_!”

Angelina sat up, moaning slightly, rubbing her head. She looked at all of us, and her eyes immediately opened wider.

“I was out here – Harry and I were talking about the third task – see, we get to take one person in there with us, and we were discussing who we would take – because we both want a Hogwarts victory, and then – then Mr. Crouch came up!” Angelina said all of this very fast, “And he was – guys, he was _deranged_ , completely off his rocker, and Harry went to go get Professor Dumbledore, but while he was gone Mr. Crouch attacked me – he stunned me! And now I guess he’s gone…”

“How the bloody hell is he up here when he’s practically dying on his bed?” I demanded angrily.

“Exactly _my_ question, Miss Johnson… er, Maggie,” a voice said behind me. I turned around and saw Moody hobble up towards us.

“How are _yeh_ here?” Hagrid asked in surprise.

“Special map, Hagrid. Special map,” Moody winked at me, his magical eye going haywire, “Saw Crouch on the map. I’ve been searching the grounds – there’s no sign of him anywhere. But Potter and Dumbledore are probably on their way now.”

I stared at him in confusion before footsteps could clearly be heard on the leaf litter behind us. We all turned around and saw Dumbledore and Harry approaching us.

“Where is he? Where’s Crouch?” Harry begged, running up to us.

“Harry, he stunned me – I have no idea where he went,” Angelina gasped.

Dumbledore looked at Moody, “You’ve looked for him, then?”

“Yes,” Moody nodded, “No sign of him anywhere, Professor.”

Dumbledore looked at all of us, “You all should go to bed. Immediately. Do not do anything else – contact no one, you understand? Hagrid, take Miss Angelina up to the Hospital Wing – she’ll need some care after that fall. You four go _straight to the common room_. Now.”

We all nodded, and while Hagrid reassured Angelina, talking to her quietly, we all looked at Harry expectantly.

“Crouch was off his rocker,” Harry murmured, “He kept saying – he said it was all his fault, saying he messed up.”

“Messed up what?” Hermione demanded.

“Was he ill? How did he get up here?” I asked.

“He was definitely ill – he looked like a, a zombie or something. And he would sometimes talk to – he would sometimes act as though he were talking to your mum, Maggie, ordering her around – he was positively dreadful, by the way, no wonder Aunt Melinda grew to hate him so much – and then sometimes he, he would stammer about talking to Professor Dumbledore, and how it was all his fault. He mentioned his son, and Bertha Jorkins, and Erin Willoughby, and he was rambling excessively –“ Harry looked panicked at all of us.

“So sometimes he acted completely delusional, and other times not, but panicky?” Neville verified. Harry nodded.

“That’s so – that’s so strange. What would make him act like that?” Hermione frowned.

“Was he acting like… I dunno, was he acting like he was fighting something off?” I asked.

“… Yeah, yeah he was. He was decidedly acting like that. He kept violently twitching, and thrashing around. It was as though he was – trying to escape or something!” Harry gasped.

“What do you think that means?” Neville asked.

“I think it means… I think it means he was under the Imperius Curse!” Harry realized, looking at me in horror. I nodded in agreement.

“What you say – it reminds me of when you fought it off two terms ago, remember?” I urged.

“Who put Crouch under the curse? And why?” Neville gasped.

“Surely, if he was under the Imperius Curse, the person in question would keep him in his post!” Hermione shook her head, “Why take him out of a position of power?”

“Maybe he needed to be out of the picture – maybe the person knew that Crouch would be onto them! He was a dark wizard catcher, remember? Horrible, but one of the best!” I frowned, “Maybe – maybe it’s the person who put Harry’s name in the goblet! Maybe he wanted Crouch _out_ of the situation so that he could do this to Harry without getting found out.”

“But that means this person has been plotting this for months,” Hermione whispered, “Because Crouch quit right at the Quidditch World Cup!”

“Which means – the tournament wasn’t well known. Whoever it is, they _have_ to have known about it! It’s someone inside the ministry, or… or…” Harry’s mouth fell open.

“ _Karkaroff!_ ” we all shouted in unison.

“What do we do? We’ve been avoiding him since we saw him in the corridors!” Hermione squeaked, “We can’t go after him!”

“We went after Voldemort first year,” I pointed out.

“That was different – much different – I don’t think Harry can just touch Karkaroff and burn him up, now! And we don’t have the training to fight a powerful dark wizard like that!” Hermione moaned.

“Moody,” I stated firmly. All three looked at me in shock as we stood outside the Fat Lady’s portrait.

“Moody,” I repeated, “Look, I know he makes us all nervous, but the man has seen things, and he’s been suspecting Karkaroff for ages. We go and we talk to him, tomorrow. We tell him what we think,” I paused, “Maybe being dodgy and creepy is part of the whole war-veteran thing, I dunno.”

“We should also tell Dumbledore,” Hermione responded firmly, “We should tell him as soon as possible.”

“Tomorrow’s Friday,” Neville groaned, “We have a full course schedule – with no defense class. How are we going to do it?”

“We skip History of Magic?” I offered.

“You know what?” Hermione paused, “Screw it. Yes, that’s the only way.”

“Hermione, I am dutifully impressed by you as a person right now,” I laughed.

“Well, charms _is_ your worst subject, Maggie, and potions is yours, Neville and Harry, and quite frankly, the three of you fall asleep in history of magic anyway. It’s the only class we could skip without there being any difference in our marks,” Hermione paused, “I mean, no one will have the notes from that day at all, but maybe my absence will make Ron or Dean or Seamus panic and take some notes for once.”

“Alright, we’re skipping class then,” Neville paused, looking at Harry, “What’s the third task, then?”

“Oh! Right!” Harry paused, “It’s – basically, we’re all allowed to bring one person in with us. There’s a huge forest in the Quidditch Pitch –“

“We saw,” we answered in unison.

“And there will be some monsters and magical objects and things in there, but basically you and your partner have to find the Triwizard Cup. And you’re supposed to fight your fellow champions too, like part of the task is that only one champion can remain standing – no one will _die_ of course,” Harry answered the horrified looks on our faces, “I mean, you’re not _supposed_ to shoot to kill, you’ll be disqualified and sent to Azkaban, but things like stunners and other spells, those are fine. So it’s one huge duel between everyone, which is why we get partners, they’re supposed to help us fight and look for the others, since the stadium is so big, that way if multiple champions gang up one you – like if Matteo, Effi and I decided to fight Angelina, cause she’s in first – you won’t be completely without help. The first champion to touch the cup wins – can’t be a partner – and the cup won’t even come _up_ until there are two champions left standing.”

“So what sort of magic do you think you should practice?” Neville asked.

“Probably jinxes, hexes, typical defense and dueling stuff, right?” Hermione offered, “So what is your plan?”

“Angelina and I want a Hogwarts victory,” Harry paused, “We planned on working together to fight the other two, and then we’d have a fair duel for the prize money.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” I agreed.

“So, you’re taking Maggie in with you, then?” Neville asked, grinning.

“Well… erm… yeah,” Harry blushed, “Sorry guys, I just –“

“Are you kidding?” Neville laughed.

“You’d be _mad_ not to!” Hermione giggled.

“Alright then,” Harry grinned, “That is, er, if you want to, Maggie.”

“Of course!” I laughed, “Do you know me _at all_?”

Harry grinned and hugged me tightly, making me laugh again.

“Who is Angelina bringing?” Neville asked.

“Alicia Spinnet,” Harry answered, “She wavers between her and Katie – especially since they’re, you know, a couple, she doesn’t want to get one hurt and have the other get upset – but they’re in the same year, she and Alicia are closer.”

“Well, I like both, so if she changes her mind, I’m good,” I laughed.

“We should start practicing as soon as possible, yeah?” Neville asked, “Put the science on hold, I guess.”

“Yeah, but this is more urgent, so I’m okay with it,” I paused, “Only trouble is, Harry gets out of final exams – and I don’t.”

“Well there’s that,” Harry paused, “I’m sorry, Maggie.”

“It’s okay, I’m just officially blaming you if my marks are poor,” I grinned teasingly, “Come on, let’s go back inside.”

 And thus, the next morning, rather than go to History of Magic, the four of us crept up to Dumbledore’s office, trying to not be noticed by the people around us. Harry knocked on the door, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

Eventually, footsteps could be heard coming towards us, and the door to Dumbledore’s office opened, him staring at all of us in bemusement.

“Don’t you all have a lesson?” he asked in surprise.

“Professor, we have a theory – about last night. It can’t wait,” Harry urged.

“Alright,” Dumbledore nodded, moving aside and ushering us all in. I had never been in his office before – second year we had been in McGonagall’s. I looked around in surprise. The ceilings were high and vaulted, with more books on them than there were in the library, somehow. There were strange magical objects in dozens of cabinets all along the area. A desk sat in the center of the room, and next to it was a cage with Fawkes sitting on a perch, looking at us curiously. There was a large bowl sitting on a pedestal on the other side of Dumbledore’s desk, and it was glowing strangely. Behind his desk were more of the books, and then a small door – which, presumably, lead to his bedroom.

The four of us crowded around Dumbledore’s desk as he went and sat at it, looking up at us.

“I’m sorry, you should all have chairs,” Dumbledore waved his wand and more chairs appeared at his desk than the one that had been their previously. We all sat down, looking at each other nervously.

“Well? Please, tell me,” Dumbledore looked at us urgently. He didn’t seem patronizing, or as though he were simply humoring us, or mad that we had ditched class – he seemed to be taking us seriously, which gave Harry the courage to speak up.

“Professor Dumbledore, when I saw Crouch yesterday – he was very addled. He had two distinct temperaments. Half the time he acted – well, he acted delusional. Talked to Aunt Melinda as though she were there, very calmly at that, ordering her around, telling her to prepare things for his wife and son – both of whom are dead, and… then half the time he was talking in a panic, asking for you, talking about Voldemort, and a mistake he had made,” Harry explained, “It was extremely odd, and we all thought…”

Hermione looked at Dumbledore, “From what Harry said, it sounds like Crouch was fighting off something – he acted very desperate and erratic, and it sounded a lot like when someone is trying to fight off the Imperius Curse. We’ve seen someone do it before – we saw _Harry_ do it before, in class, which is why Harry didn’t think of this, only Maggie did.”

“And we reckon,” I cleared my throat, “We reckon – if he’s under the Imperius Curse, why did he quit? If he quit before he was under the curse, why didn’t he come back? It doesn’t make any sense – Crouch at the ministry had a lot of power, and a lot of influence. The only reason would be to keep Crouch away.”

“Since Crouch was a dark wizard catcher,” Neville furthered, “He would be able to tell if something bad was happening – and him _and_ Moody in one place? No one could get away with anything here. So – whoever this was – must have known that Crouch was headed here, to Hogwarts, for the Triwizard Cup, and wanted to get rid of him.”

“By that logic,” Hermione continued, “We figured whoever it was – might also be behind Harry’s name being in the Goblet. I mean, hoodwinking such a powerful magical object – making sure Harry has to compete – would have been hard to do with Moody and Crouch in the castle, wouldn’t it have been?”

“Which means, since Crouch quit around the Quidditch World Cup – my Mum told me at the time, she was bemused, because Crouch would _never_ quit, according to her – whoever this was, must have known about the Triwizard Tournament _before_ it was announced, as early as August!” I explained.

“Which means it was someone from the Ministry, or a representative from one of the foreign governments, or someone from the schools,” Harry finished, “Because they were the only people who were told about it – obviously we have no idea who could have done it, but… in addition to all of that, doesn’t it make sense that it be someone who is here, at Hogwarts? They’d have to have access to put my name in the Goblet, wouldn’t they? Which left… erm… which left a Hogwarts teacher, which we couldn’t believe; Bagman, which doesn’t seem like him; Aunt Melinda, which doesn’t make _any_ sense; Madame Maxime, or…”

“Or Karkaroff,” Dumbledore finished. We all nodded in unison.

Dumbledore looked at all of us piercingly, “Well, that is a remarkable bit of deduction work you’ve all done. Yes, this all makes sense in light of Crouch’s activities – and it _does_ fit with the events of this year. The only hole, I will maintain, is Karkaroff.”

“Why?” Hermione asked.

“He was a _Death Eater_!” I hissed.

“Yes, a Death Eater who turned in many of his fellows for a chance of freedom, Miss Johnson,” Dumbledore paused, “He does not wish to see Lord Voldemort rise to power again.”

“Maybe… erm… Professor, is it possible that he thinks killing Harry in the Cup will lead to Lord V-Voldemort’s followers forgiving him?” Hermione suggested, looking nervous.

“It’s possible, but unlikely. Karkaroff would not wish to deliberately do anything to help Voldemort’s rise to power, and it’s looking as though whoever _is_ behind the events of this year, is deliberately involved in that,” Dumbledore paused, “Karkaroff has a good life. He is head of a school, does not get questioned about his old life, and is happy. It makes no sense for him to throw that away.”

“But sir, he threatened us!” I blurted out, covering my mouth in shock at my outburst. Harry and Neville looked at me in shock.

“Sir, we overheard Professor Moody confront Karkaroff in the corridor. He heard us leaving and chased us, threatening us for overhearing,” Hermione explained, “Moody accused him of going after Potter, and said that Karkaroff would act nervous and as though he didn’t want Lord Voldemort to come back so that we’d be thrown off of his trail. We thought… that maybe Karkaroff didn’t want more people suspecting him, realizing what he was up to…”

“While I do admit that it is suspicious and reprehensible that he attacked you and Miss Johnson, Miss Granger, Karkaroff still has _exceedingly_ little reason to try and put Mr. Potter in the tournament. If Harry were to die, Karkaroff might get some praise, but it is well known that Lord Voldemort wishes to kill Harry himself; Karkaroff will be seen as having taken all the glory. And if this is leading towards something involving bringing Lord Voldemort back… I repeat, that Karkaroff has more to lose, than to gain, from his return,” Dumbledore looked at all of us severely.

“So then we have no idea who cursed Crouch,” Neville muttered desperately.

“It is a mystery,” Dumbledore agreed, “It is possible it is an individual not officially at the castle; a ministry official who snuck in to put Harry’s name in the goblet. It’s also possible, though less likely, that the two events aren’t even linked at all.”

We all sat in silence, stewing over the confusion from these events.

“Professor Dumbledore,” Harry suddenly said, “Did you… Did you at least _find_ Crouch? Maybe if he’s alive we can ask him…”

“No, we did not,” Dumbledore paused, “There was no sign of him. Professor Moody even used an interesting little contraption,” his eyes twinkled, “That seemed to show the entire layout of the castle, and who was where. He was nowhere on it.”

We all flushed madly at the mention of the map.

“So how did he leave the grounds?” I asked.

“He could have been kidnapped, or left of his own accord,” Dumbledore paused, “The only thing we know for sure is that he is not here.”

We all sighed, looking at each other worriedly.

“Now, I will tell Professor Moody everything you’ve told me here. The most important thing for you all to do now is to focus on the third task. I know you all enjoy solving mysteries here at Hogwarts,” Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled again, “But if someone is trying to kill you, Harry, this is their _last chance_. Maggie, train with him; Neville, Hermione, help them as much as you can. This task should be very easy for you all, after everything you’ve faced here.”

We all grinned at each other eagerly.

“Now, please, go to charms class. I don’t want to appear as if I support this sort of activity,” but Dumbledore was smiling underneath his beard. We all walked out together, heading down towards the charms classroom.

“Do you still reckon its Karkaroff?” Neville asked.

“Maybe it _is_ some other ministry official. Lot’s of Death Eaters escaped Azkaban, it could even be Malfoy,” Hermione frowned.

“Malfoy has done something like this before,” I agreed.

“Only problem is, Malfoy _also_ has a good life. The only people who really have anything to gain from Voldemort coming back are the people in Azkaban,” I sighed.

“Or… people like Wormtail,” Harry whispered. We all looked at him in shock.

“Think about it. Voldemort had _loads_ of supporters. There probably are more of them who are on the run,” Harry hissed.

“How would one of them hear about the Tournament?” I asked.

Hermione’s eyes suddenly widened, “Bertha Jorkins.”

“What?” Neville asked.

“ _Think about it_. Mrs. Johnson said she was a gossip! She wouldn’t be able to keep her mouth shut about the Tournament!” Hermione hissed.

“She could have told someone in a pub – either the person in question, or close enough so the person on the run overheard!” Harry agreed eagerly.

“Then, they kidnapped her – or even killed her – to find out more information about it! Where it was, when it was being held, who was heading it – she’s been missing since _before_ Crouch quit!” I gasped.

“And then they used her to find Crouch – put the Imperius curse on him – she was their access!” Neville gaped.

We all stared at each other in shock. Hermione pivoted on her foot and looked at Harry.

“Harry, we have to focus on the final task. It is more important than ever that you get through it,” Hermione paused, “I will go and tell Professor Dumbledore about our new theory, but this is the last we worry about it, alright?”

We all nodded. Hermione then turned and left, leaving the rest of us to stare at each other in worry.

We were nowhere near out of the woods yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think! Thanks!


	42. Chapter Forty - One: May 29 - June 23, 1995, Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "No light, no light in your bright blue eyes 
> 
> I never knew daylight could be so violent 
> 
> A revelation in the light of day 
> 
> You can't choose what stays and what fades away... 
> 
> You want a revelation 
> 
> You wanna get it right 
> 
> But it's a conversation, 
> 
> I just can't have tonight 
> 
> You want a revelation 
> 
> Some kind of resolution 
> 
> You want a revolution 
> 
> No light, no light in your bright blue eyes 
> 
> I never knew daylight could be so violent." 
> 
> ~ Florence and the Machine, "No Light, No Light."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: A RAPE SCENE IS ALLUDED TO IN THIS CHAPTER. IT IS NOT DESCRIBED, HOWEVER THE MOMENTS LEADING UP TO IT ARE. PLEASE DO NOT READ BETWEEN TEH ~~**~~ IF YOU DO NOT WANT TO READ THIS. THANK YOU.

Chapter 41: May 29 – June 23, 1995, Hogwarts

“I am not meant to be cooped up indoors!” I screamed at the top of my lungs. Hermione, Harry and Neville all stared at me in shock.

We were currently in the middle of an empty classroom, pillows surrounding us on all sides, books piled up in a corner of the room. It was getting closer and closer to the task; we had spent the entire weekend studying up on different spells in the library, and now on Monday were trying to practice some of them out ad nausea. 

“I know, Maggie, but we have to be careful,” Hermione paused, “You two have to practice for the upcoming task, and going outside is apparently dangerous, as Crouch is missing and there is a mystery so large that even Dumbledore has no idea what is going on.”

I grumbled and kicked a chair, sending it across the room. Harry looked more than amused; he looked positively _delighted_.

“Why do we even need to teach her defensive spells? She can just tackle everyone to the ground and rip their heads of,” Harry grinned. I stuck my tongue out at him. He probably had a point; my anger was getting worse than ever.

“Plus, it’s _hot_ ,” Neville groaned, “My plants need me to water them…”

“I’m perfectly sure that Professor Sprout was capable of caring for the greenhouses before you arrived, Neville!” Hermione responded tartly, “You just don’t like being on the receiving end of a stunning spell!”

It was true. Our first spells we were practicing were, of course, stunning spells (and reversing it with the enervating spell,) two necessary spells in duels. But, sadly, we had to practice on _someone_ , and so Hermione and Neville volunteered.

“Well, soon, you two should duel each other, right?” Neville suggested eagerly, “Have an actual fight! You seem to be getting the hang of the spells now.”

“While it would be good for them to practice dueling, especially Maggie,” Harry looked smug at Hermione’s comment, causing me to whack him upside the head, “It’s useless until they learn more spells. Them just sending stunners at each other over and over again won’t mimic the task at all. So we make sure they’ve perfected this spell and we move on.”

Neville groaned, covering his eyes with his hands, falling back into the pile of pillows in distress.

“Harry Potter, you owe me manual labor,” he muttered angrily.

“I’ll help you carry the venomous tentacula to greenhouse three when they mature?” Harry offered.

“Perfect,” Neville muttered irritably, “I’m aching _terribly_.”

“Neville, you’re clumsy even unconscious, you have to _aim for the cushions_ ,” Hermione scolded.

“Did you hear what you just said? Did you lot hear that?” Neville sat up, looking affronted, “Aim? While unconscious? Are you _mad_?”

“At any rate, I think they have it now,” Hermione continued hastily, “And Maggie, you’ve been practicing disarming, yeah?”

“ _Expelliarmus!_ ” I shouted, and Hermione’s wand neatly flew into my hand. She rolled her eyes and grabbed it back.

“Good, then we can move onto hexes.”

Neville groaned audibly.

“I like this one,” Hermione continued as though he hadn’t made a sound, looking in a book, “The Impediment Curse. Should slow down anything that’s trying to attack you. We’ll start with that one this evening.”

The bell then rang. We all looked at each other sadly.

“I better get to Divination… see you lot later,” Harry waved gloomily, walking off in the opposite direction of the Arithmancy classroom.

“I don’t like letting him out of my sight,” Hermione frowned in annoyance.

“Can’t be helped, Hermione. Ron’s with him, at any rate,” Neville sighed.

“Let’s go,” I bobbed my head in the direction of the classroom, and we all took off together, running up to the room.

Neville was right; it _was_ hot; it was hotter than I had ever experienced in Great Britain. Sure, America was boiling almost all the time I was there; and even though I didn’t remember it, Egypt couldn’t have been a picnic; but this was ridiculous. We were beginning to wrap up our lessons, which didn’t help. The antsyness I felt was practically driving me up the wall. Neville, sitting on the right side of me, was tapping his quill against his desk in a rapid rhythm, his face sitting on his palm; drool dribbling out of his mouth. Hermione was taking notes, but they were slow and in a looping script, as though even she were having some trouble keeping her eyes open. It didn’t help that that day we were receiving an introduction to statistics, the maths we would be using in next year’s arithmancy.

“Now, probabilities are exceptionally important in arithmancy, so I want you all to practice…” Professor Vector instructed.

I sat back in my chair as Hermione and Neville both turned to face me, pulling off my tie in a rush and reaching down to take off my knee socks. Hermione’s face made a motion as though to glare at me, but evidently she thought better of it, shaking her head in agreement and taking off her own tie.

“Good lord, Hermione, we didn’t ask for a strip show,” Neville joked. I giggled.

“Oh shove off, and let’s practice probability,” Hermione grunted, “It’s too hot. Maggie, do you have any extra hair ties?”

I handed her one, and she managed to stuff her endless hair into one, pulling it back into a ponytail. She looked strikingly different with it; so different that I almost didn’t recognize her. Neville’s face had dropped open in shock.

“Guys, _focus_ ,” Hermione groaned.

“Right,” I sighed, “Well, luckily, we’ve learned some of this stuff in our studying of science…”

“Not a lot, though,” Neville groaned.

“It’s not rocket science,” Hermione urged, and we all worked together on the problems, which really weren’t that bad. The heat, however, made our brains sluggish, and we were still slow on them, unable to string two coherent thoughts together with all the sweat on our heads.

Eventually, the bell rang, and we all headed off immediately to dinner, planning on meeting up with Harry there before going back to the classroom. But he wasn’t there, and we stayed at dinner late – there was absolutely no sign of him.

“What happened to him?” Hermione whispered as we all headed up to the Gryffindor Common Room.

“He collapsed in Divination,” Ron ran up to us, panting slightly, “Guys, he was clutching his scar – rolling all over the floor…”

I felt my eyes widen in terror.

“That’s not good,” Neville whispered.

“His scar only hurts when… when Voldemort is getting stronger!” Hermione hissed.

“Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck,” I whimpered anxiously.

Ron looked at all of us in worry.

“But – but that’s not new – Dad’s ben saying You-Know-Who’s been getting stronger for ages –“

“Yes, but Harry’s scar hasn’t really hurt before now,” Hermione paused, “Which means… something’s happened. Something’s _happening_ , and…”

“It’s coming,” Neville responded firmly, “Voldemort is coming back.”

My nerves were at their last end. I ran over to a nearby potted plant and hunched over, vomiting violently into the dirt. I felt someone – I would bet a thousand galleons it was Neville – patting my back soothingly and holding my hair back from my face.

I wiped off my mouth, shaking slightly, looking up at Neville fearfully. He pulled me into a long, tight hug, which Hermione quickly joined.

“Come on,” Neville whispered, “Let’s go to the Common Room and wait for Harry there.”

And we did so, sitting by the fire, me holding my head in my hands and slowly sipping a glass of water.

It was late in the evening when Harry got back, running over to us and sitting next to us.

“Ron told us you collapsed,” I greeted.

“Tell us what happened,” Neville urged.

“Everything,” Hermione agreed softly.

Harry sighed, looking at all of us, “Alright, so I fell asleep in Divination. When I did, I suddenly – I had a dream, like the one from last summer. It was Wormtail, and Lord Voldemort again, and that snake. Wormtail apparently had fucked up – Voldemort was going to feed him to the snake – but something happened, something t fixed everything. Someone _died_ , so Wormtail was off the hook. Then Voldemort said that he’d feed _me_ to the snake instead, and then he put the cruciatus curse on Wormtail. And that’s the dream.”

We all looked at him in shock.

“Do you… Do you reckon that… actually happened?” Neville asked quietly.

“It _felt_ real,” Harry paused, “And with everything that’s going on… I got out of there, went straight to Dumbledore’s. And when I got there, Fudge was there – and so was Moody – and they were all talking about Crouch. Fudge reckons that Bertha Jorkins got lost of her own accord, and that her disappearance has nothing to do with Crouch’s. He thinks Crouch has either cracked or that he got attacked, but he thinks _Madame Maxime_ attacked him, ‘cause she’s a half giant –“

“That horrible man,” Hermione sneered.

“Then – then they all went to the grounds, and I waited for Dumbledore. Do you guys remember the bowl he had by his desk?” Harry asked. We all nodded.

“Well, I sort of… erm… stuck my head in it,” Harry admitted, “And… it’s this thing called a Pensieve…”

“Oh!” Hermione gasped, “Yes!”

“I think I’ve heard of that,” Neville nodded.

I grunted in annoyance.

“Right,” Harry apologized, “See, it holds your memories, allows you to look at them again, study them from a different perspective.”

I raised my eyebrows, “That’s useful. So you went into Dumbledore’s memories?”

“Yeah,” Harry paused, “And that’s where it gets weird. I was in this weird sort of circular chamber, and there were lots of benches surrounding the center of the room – it was the wizard courtroom, where people get tried by the Wizengamot, I think. Anyway, the first trial I saw – it was Karkaroff’s. He was clearly desperate to escape Azkaban – he had already been there, he had been taken out to provide evidence, and he incriminated a lot of people, most of whom were already apprehended – but Rookwood, and Snape they hadn’t gotten, but apparently Dumbledore kept Snape from being rounded up, because he knew he switched sides or something.”

“Bullshit,” Neville snapped.

I frowned, “My mum trusts him.”

Neville looked at me calculatingly, seemingly trying to figure out what to say.

“There’s a chance Dumbledore and Mrs. Johnson are wrong,” Hermione admitted, “But both of them? Neville, there’s more to Snape than we know.”

Neville sighed heavily and nodded.

“Anyway, apparently for that he got released, which I think is complete bull, but I agree with Dumbledore that he wouldn’t want any supporters he named to get out of Azkaban and find him… the next trial I saw was of Ludo Bagman – he’s, well, he’s sort of an idiot – he apparently had passed information to someone on the wrong side, but I really believe he thought he was talking to one of the good guys. I mean the guy acted dumber than Crabbe or Goyle, Voldemort wouldn’t want someone like that on his side,” Harry described.

“I highly doubt he’s a Death Eater,” Hermione agreed.

“And the last one…” Harry swallowed heavily, and his eyes flickered for the briefest of moments to Neville, “It was Crouch’s sons trial, and the other people he had been caught with. Their names were Bellatrix, Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange – Bellatrix marred Rodolphus, and Barty Crouch Junior was definitely with them,” Harry paused, “They tortured some high level aurors to insanity, looking for Lord Voldemort. And these weren’t just any high level aurors, these people were much beloved – everyone in the courtroom looked like the four of them shouldn’t just be thrown in Azkaban, but killed…”

“Who?” Hermione asked breathlessly, “Who were the aurors?”

“I don’t know,” Harry responded, but his face very clearly said he was lying. Still, none of us pushed the issue.

“Anyway, they sentenced them to life in Azkaban, and Barty Crouch Junior was crying for his mum, begging her to save him, claiming he hadn’t done it – and that Bellatrix Lestrange character, she was just vile, she kept saying that they alone were faithful, they alone tried to find him, and that Voldemort would rise again… and then Barty Crouch kept begging older Crouch to save him, as he was his son, and then Crouch Senior said he was no son of his… It was terrible. I don’t know if Barty Crouch Junior did those things, but it was just… I can see, now, what Aunt Melinda, Uncle Nathaniel and Uncle Sirius were talking about. If that’s what the war is like…”

I looked at him grimly, “What happened then?”

“Well, I stopped looking in the pensieve, and Dumbledore and I talked – and Bertha Jorkins is _not_ forgetful. He had a memory of her at Hogwarts – I saw it with my own eyes – she was a gossip, she followed people around even when it would get her into trouble. And Erin Willoughby – she’s Bertha’s _sister_ , she got married and changed her name, and she apparently went looking for her, and she disappeared too. And… Dumbledore reckons I’m connected to Voldemort by my scar, which is why I had the vision… and… and there was another disappearance, too, of a muggle named Frank Bryce, who lived in the village where Voldemort’s father grew up, and he hasn’t been seen since August… he says the disappearances are linked, but the Ministry doesn’t think so… but Dumbledore said, he said that this was exactly like last time, and that Voldemort… he’s probably rising to power again,” Harry choked out.

We all looked at him fearfully.

“And he told me not to ask why he trusted Snape, said it was a matter between them only. And that’s it,” Harry finished.

“Oh Harry,” Hermione whispered.

“This feels like first year, only, you know, _worse_ ,” Neville groaned.

I was trying really, especially hard to not vomit again.

“Look, for now, we focus on getting you two through the last task alive,” Hermione said decisively, “I don’t know what’s going on, but I know that’s top priority – and then we can worry about everything else.”

“Alright,” Harry nodded.

 And so, we spent the month of June practicing, and in the meantime, studying for exams. Neither Hermione nor I had much time to do animagus spells, but the one time the two of us showed up to explain to McGonagall she had shooed us out, telling us she didn’t want to see us here before the Third Task again. The mood of the castle was so tense you could practically break it with a pin. We practiced every single spell known to man, but Harry and I were extremely confident – this was the sort of thing that we had done before; it was right up our alley.

The closer we got to the task, the more we were dueling each other as well, shooting curses back and forth and blocking them. Harry was doubtlessly better than me, frankly by leaps and bounds; but I still managed to keep up, even getting in some curses of my own.

“I’m having flashbacks to the beginning of all this nonsense,” Neville commented as he watched us spar, much as I would watch him and Harry spar back when they were practicing with the swords.

“Yeah, well, lots has changed since then, hasn’t it?” Hermione responded shrewdly.

Neville groaned, holding his head in his hands, “My head hurts.”

Two days before the Third Task, we went down to breakfast to find everyone staring at us as we walked in. This was surprising, as we hadn’t been seen much around the castle, busy as we were with training. Exams were wrapping up, and despite all the work we had been doing, I was feeling relatively confident about them – transfiguration had been a breeze, as had herbology and astronomy, all of which we had had the day before, on Monday. Today we were due to have care of magical creatures, defense against the dark arts and arithmancy, which also shouldn’t have been too terrible; Wednesday was filled with potions and charms, which didn’t scare me much due to my new knowledge of chemistry and terrified the living crap out of me respectively; and then Thursday, the day of the third task, was history of magic – which would go poorly – and ancient runes – which would probably go alright.

Before we could reach the Gryffindor table, Elena leapt from the Slytherin one and ran towards us, ushering us out of the Great Hall.

“What the – Elena!” I gasped in shock.

“Read this,” Elena hissed, shoving an article in our hands. We all read together, hunched around the piece of paper.

**Harry Potter  
“Disturbed and Dangerous” **

**The boy who defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is unstable and possibly dangerous, _writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent_. Alarming evidence has recently come to light about Harry Potter’s strange behavior, which casts doubts upon his suitability to compete in a demanding competition like the Triwizard Tournament, or even to attend Hogwarts School. **

**Potter, the _Daily Prophet_ can exclusively reveal, regularly collapses at school, and is often heard to complain of pain in the scar on his forehead (relic of the curse with which You-Know-Who attempted to kill him.) On Monday last, midway through a Divination lesson, your _Daily Prophet_ reporter witnessed Potter storming from the class, claiming that his scar was hurting too badly to continue studying. **

**It is possible, say top experts at St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, that Potter’s brain was affected by the attack inflicted upon him by You-Know-Who, and that his insistence that the scar is still hurting is an expression of deep-seated confusion.**

**“He might even be pretending,” said one specialist, “This could be a plea for attention.”**

**The _Daily Prophet_ , however, has unearthed worrying facts about Harry Potter that Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts, has carefully concealed from the Wizarding public. **

**“Potter can speak Parseltongue,” reveals Draco Malfoy, a Hogwarts fourth year, “There were a lot of attacks on students a couple of years ago, and most people thought Potter was behind them after they saw him lose his temper at a dueling club and set a snake on another boy. It was all hushed up, though. But he’s made friends with werewolves and giants too. And his adopted sister is obviously completely off her rocker, and extremely violent, and they’re attached at the hip. We think he’d do anything for a bit of power.”**

**Parseltongue, the ability to converse with snakes, has long been considered a Dark Art. Indeed, the most famous Parselmouth of our times is none other than You-Know-Who himself. A member of the Dark Force Defense League, who wished to remain unnamed, stated that he would regard any wizard who could speak Parseltongue “as worthy of investigation. Personally, I would be highly suspicious of anybody who could converse with snakes, as serpents are often used in the worst kinds of Dark Magic, and are historically associated with evildoers.” Similarly, “anyone who seeks out the company of such vicious creatures as werewolves and giants would appear to have a fondness for violence.”**

**Albus Dumbledore should surely consider whether a boy such as this should be allowed to compete in the Triwizard Tournament. Some fear that Potter might resort to the Dark Arts in his desperation to win the tournament, the third task of which takes place later this week.**

My vision was completely red. I could barely see anything.

“Harry, what the _hell_ did you say about Skeeter, you know she apparently knows everything –“ Elena hissed.

“I didn’t say anything! Not anything in public, anyway, not anywhere she could have possibly heard!” Harry affirmed.

“I think it’s a pure journalism thing. Skeeter has been consistently writing about Harry as though he’s an angel, but bashing everyone else in his life,” Hermione responded reasonably, “She needed a new angle.”

“Well, this isn’t going to help Harry at all!” Elena hissed, “Isn’t it, you know, relatively important that he remain a symbol of the fight against You-Know-Who?”

“Yes, but the more important thing is how the hell did she know I collapsed? I was in the North Tower!” Harry hissed.

I had no coherent thoughts. I was biting the inside of my mouth forcefully, trying to get my mind to calm down. I could taste blood.

“I have no idea!” Hermione moaned.

“Weren’t you supposed to be looking up magical methods of bugging?” Harry demanded, “You tell me how she did it!”

“I’ve been trying! But… but I…”

My vision was clear enough that I saw Hermione look at me in shock, and then mouthed in amazement.

“I have an idea,” Hermione gasped, “I think I know… because no one would be able to see… even Moody… and she could be on a bush, or a window ledge… but this is illegal… ooooh, this is _very_ illegal…. I can get her for this! I’m going to the library, I’ll see you at our exam!” Hermione ran off in a positive daze.

“What the hell was that about?” Elena asked in amusement.

“Elena, you know, when I met you you never talked,” Neville commented.

“Yeah, well, this year I nearly died,” Elena scowled.

“Just pointing it out, no need to get testy,” Neville smirked.

“You alright, Maggie?” Harry asked in concern. All three were looking at me in worry now. I knew I had an exam coming up; Care of Magical Creatures wouldn’t be hard, but I had to compose myself. I had no way of releasing my anger; none at all. So I closed my eyes tightly, forcing the anger deep into my stomach, where it settled like a ball of lead.

“Yeah,” I whispered, my voice hoarse, “Let’s go.”

I spent the rest of the day determinedly ignoring my rage; I managed to get through Hagrid’s exam with relative ease, with my niffler quickly gathering up the buried gold. That afternoon, Defense Against the Dark Arts was also easy – I managed to break through Moody’s Imperius Curse, and could easily name all the hexes and spells we had learned that year, given my hands-on learning for the third task. Arithmancy, though difficult, wasn’t too hard for me to think through; that evening, I walked up to the library, needing to study now more than ever for charms.

I isolated myself there, not in the mood to have Hermione yell at me for stupidity, especially when I was on the precipice of lashing out at any moment. I studied for hours and hours; soon enough, it got much too late. I should have headed down ages ago.

~~**~~

When I looked up, I saw George staring at me.

“Where have you been, then?” George asked. His speech was odd – almost slurred.

“Are… are you drunk?” I asked in confusion.

“Well, got nothin’ _better_ to do, with my girlfriend _busy_ all the bloody time,” George drawled.

“I’m sorry George,” I murmured, “I just… I keep feeling like I’m making excuses. But the third task is coming, and Harry chose for me to come with him, and…”

“Yeah, well, excuses don’t mean _nothing_ , do they?” George muttered.

“George, please, you’re drunk,” I begged, “Don’t say anything you’ll regret.”

“Ha!” George laughed, “I’mma ask you _one more time_.”

Oh no. He regularly asked me if I loved Neville; oftentimes loudly, in the middle of corridors. It was getting exhausting; almost everyone thought George was off his rocker. Only I knew he had hit the nail on the proverbial head.

“No, George, I do not love Neville,” I answered dully, packing up my books.

“Prove it!” George insisted. I looked at him, my heart rate quickening in fear.

“George, I don’t have to prove that to you. You’ve been acting ridiculous for months. I love you, okay? Now go sleep this,” I pointed to all of him, “Off.”

“If you love me,” George slurred, walking up to me, “Then you’ll _be_ with me.”

“George,” I responded firmly, though now my fear was growing, exacerbated by the anger in my stomach, “George, I’m not ready, I told you.”

“I think you are ready,” George hissed drunkenly in my ear, “I think you’re _more_ than ready; you just don’t wanna be with me cause you don’t love me anymore!”

“Stop,” I begged, tears leaking in my eyes, “Stop, George, please.”

“Come on, Maggie,” George whispered, “When have I ever led you astray?”

I looked at him in terror.

“I’m your _mentor_ , remember? Pulling pranks? Or have you forgotten?” George laughed, “I know best.”

I clutched the back of the library chair so tightly I could feel it splinter in my hand.

“Mentor knows best, Maggie,” George slurred, “Come on, you’ll like it, I know you will.”

“No,” I begged as he started kissing me, “No, please, stop –“

“You want this, just as much as I do,” George hissed in my ear, “Come on, let this happen.”

I looked at him in terror as he started kissing me again. There was nothing I could do, nothing at all; he was bigger than me, stronger than me, and I was caught between him and the stacks. All I could do was hope that it would be over quickly.

~~**~~

I found myself the next morning staring at my ceiling. My hands were trembling on my stomach; tears were flowing freely from my eyes.

 _That wasn’t… that wasn’t, you know_ , I thought to myself hurriedly, _he was just drunk, he didn’t know what he was doing; he wouldn’t do that to you. That wasn’t the thing. It wasn’t_.

I hadn’t slept. Instead, I had spent the night repeating this phrase to myself over, and over, and over again, like a mantra. Now, as daylight broke in through the dormitory, I was beginning to believe it.

_No, he was just drunk, and that’s all. Not like you put up a real fight or anything. Not a big deal._

I looked at my watch. My first exam was in five hours, and it was potions; I couldn’t sit in this bed any longer, and the longer I waited to leave, the higher a chance there was I would run into him. I got up, putting on new clothes. My old clothes from last night – sweatpants and a sweatshirt, for maximum comfort during studying – I brought down with me. I threw them into the Gryffindor fire.

Now, wearing shorts and a tank top, I stared around the Common Room. Everyone was still asleep, no doubt. I had no idea what to do. But, I knew I couldn’t stick around; I left, going down the normal way, out to the grounds.

 _Five hours_ , I thought to myself, _that’s long enough for a run._

And so I sprinted, running as fast as I could through the grounds, down to the forest. This was faster than when I had run away before; this was breakneck speed, this was cheetah speed, this was _car_ speed. I reached the forest instantaneously and ran along it, rather than through it; my feet pounding against the ground so hard I felt like I was about to take off in flight, again.

I ran, and ran, and ran, and ran, going through the forest, trying to forget everything that was happening in my brain – trying to block it out, stick it somewhere where I would never, ever have to think about it ever, ever again.

 _Maybe I’ll just run away_ , I thought to myself as I continued on, _maybe I’ll just leave forever, and never talk to anyone again._

Voldemort was coming back. G – _he_ was mistreating me. Everything was going to shit, and I was never going to be a proper animagus. Running away seemed like the best option.

I turned, heading deeper into the forest, deciding that the mountains were the best destination, when I tripped over a large tree root that I hadn’t seen. I screamed, falling to the ground hard; the speed of my running had not helped in this. I sputtered, moaning in pain, clutching my twisted knee in agony.

A low, rumbling growl issued behind me. My heart rate quickened exponentially as I turned around, staring straight into the eyes of a creature I hadn’t seen for two whole years – the Hebridean Black.

The dragon stared at me, and I stared at the dragon in complete fear. The dragon then opened its maw, and I closed my eyes, welcoming death with a smile on my face – but the dragon only roared, and it roared louder than anything I had ever heard in my life.

I stared at it, stumbling to my feet.

“Go on then!” I shouted at it, clearly losing my mind, “Do it!”

The dragon roared back.

“DO IT!” I screamed, “DO IT! DO IT NOW!”

The dragon roared again.

“KILL ME, YOU STUPID DINOSAUR! KILL ME NOW!” I begged, “KILL ME, MAKE THIS END, PUT ME OUT OF MY MISERY! NOW! I’M _BEGGING_ YOU!”

The dragon roared louder, bearing its teeth at me angrily.

“I DON’T WANT TO LIVE ANYMORE,” I screamed, my volume as loud as the dragons, “I DON’T! I DON’T WANT TO LIVE ANYMORE! PLEASE MAKE ME STOP LIVING! PLEASE! YOU SAVED ME ONCE – SAVE ME AGAIN!”

The dragon roared back, its face now so unbelievably close to mine that the sound left my ears ringing.

I screamed at the top of my lungs, clutching my wand in my hand, and in my scream I was incoherent, I couldn’t feel anything or think – and then –

I was on all fours. But I had more than fours; I had wings on my back. My legs were sort of short, but they were directly underneath my body; I was about my usual height, though I was on all fours. My butt – it had a tail now, long and winding, the same length as my body, which was longer now. I had a longer neck than as a human, but it was still fairly short, about the same as a raptor or something similar, and my head had elongated – it was like that of a theropod – with sharp, pointed teeth. I could feel horns extending all the way down my back and to my tail, ending in a diamond on the tip. I had sharp claws, and my wings were long and membranous, nearly three times the total size of my body. I looked at myself in complete shock, and saw that I had small bristles all over my body, popping up between my scales – sort of like bird feathers, but greatly diminished. I was cerulean, the most brilliant blue I had ever seen in my life, my scales flashing in the light of the rising sun. My claws were navy, and my spikes were cyan, and the membranes of my wings were sky blue.

I screamed – no, roared – in surprise, falling to the ground in amazement. But I had no urge to change back.

This was me.

I looked the dragon in complete surprise. I coughed; fire came out of my mouth. I looked at the smoke in complete shock.

“What the hell?” I roared, but the sound that came out wasn’t English. It was – well – it was dragon wars.

 _Pettigrew could talk to rats, and Sirius could talk to Crookshanks_ , I thought in amazement.

“It’s about damn time,” the much, much, _much_ larger dragon above me commented. I looked up at it in amazement.

“I’ve been waiting for you to turn into yourself since I first saw you,” the dragon continued, “Knew immediately. You’re a dragon in human skin.”

I spun around, looking at all sides of myself in shock, then back at the dragon.

“What – who – what,” I growled in amazement.

“I am Herin,” the dragon introduced, “Who are you?”

“M – Maggie,” I whispered, or at least, the dragon equivalent of a whisper – I hissed.

“Are you male, or female?” the dragon asked, “I’ve heard you humans put much import on your genitals.”

I laughed; it was like a bark, and smoke came out.

“Female, and you have no idea.”

“I am as well,” she agreed, “Why, may I ask, do you do so?”

“Because we’re idiots,” I paused, “Um… how did you know I would be a dragon? I hadn’t even… um… started the things I needed to do to get here when we met.”

“I’m a dragon,” Herin bared her teeth in amusement, “Certain things, we know.”

I nodded, “Alright. Do you… uh… do a lot of dragons in human skin exist?”

“Usually in other, distant lands, across great bodies of water,” Herin explained, “Never here.”

“Ah,” I responded, “Um… should I stay away from dragons, then?”

“No!” Herin roared. I backed away in fear.

“You are a Southern American Blue,” Herin continued – the name for the dragon type was different, more elegant, in the dragon language, but I recognized it for the human name equivalent – “You are fast. You are _vicious_. You will gouge the eyes of any who crosses you. No dragon will fear you, no matter what other species you may be.”

I swallowed heavily, “But – I’m very tiny –“

“I am cumbersome!” Herin roared, “I cannot remain hidden, no matter the circumstance. I am strong, yes, but I cannot maneuver well! You have skills that I do not, and I have skills that you do not – it is how nature works. We cannot have every power.”

“Well, yes, that’s called niche partitioning – um – sorry,” I mumbled.

“You are a strange human,” Herin cocked her head to the side, “You called me a dinosaur earlier. What is this?”

“Oh – you’re a type of dinosaur – erm – we classify every living thing based on its relatives,” I explained, “Dinosaurs are a group of animals that include all dragons, birds, and a bunch of things that are sadly extinct.”

“We do call birds our cousins,” Herin nodded, “Our family name, then – is dinosaur?”

“Yeah, exactly,” I nodded eagerly, “I’m sorry for yelling – I was upset.”

“What could upset a dragon in this way?” Herin demanded, “You are powerful, you are _strong_.”

“That’s exactly it,” I whispered, “I lost my power.”

“How can a _dragon_ lose their power?” Herin scoffed.

“My… mate… decided that we were going to… mate… and I didn’t really… have a say,” I managed to choke out.

Herin roared in fury, breathing fire up into the sky. I watched her, but I was not afraid. I walked towards her, my head bobbing automatically – like a bird. My walking style was also like a bird – careful, each foot slowly following the other, me only walking with my calves and ankles. I walked on my toes, and I barely moved my thighs at all. I fluttered my wings in interest. My tail was surprisingly rigid – it moved somewhat, but nothing like a lizard’s, or a cat’s.

The colors were more vivid, too – the blues, there were more of the, and they were everywhere.

 _Like a bird_ , I thought in amazement.

“No mate of a _dragon_ would dare do such a thing!” Herin growled, “You are not powerless! It goes back to your strange import of genitals. If a male – or a female – decided that they had the right to mate with me, regardless of what I thought – they would be dead!”

I swallowed, staring at Herin in sorrow.

“I can’t kill him,” I whispered, “I can’t.”

“He is no mate for a dragon!” Herin hissed, “None!”

She was right.

“I am afraid. I am afraid that ending it will make him lash out again,” I explained.

“You are a dragon, now,” Herin repeated, “If he attacks you, you can eat him.”

I laughed; more smoke came out of my mouth.

“I am not kidding. Dragons do not kid,” Herin spoke the words; they sounded foreign on her tongue.

“How do you know so much about humans?” I asked in confusion.

“I live next to your school. I hear things in the forest. The half-giant is particularly loud,” Herin explained.

“That’s Hagrid. He loves dragons,” I laughed.

“He loves us as pets – as animals,” Herin scowled, her teeth bared in anger, “I am no wild beast. I am no one’s _pet_. If humans would stop trying to _control_ us, and instead tried to work **with** us, we would have no problem.”

“I believe it,” I responded, looking up at the sky. It called to me, more than anything else had.

“Your species was built to fly. Fly, Maggie Dragon; fly, be free, and then go back to your human life,” Herin paused, “You cannot leave it, not now. Not when danger approaches.”

“You know about that?” I gasped, “What – what do you know?”

“I know that the man who would kill us for sport is rising,” Herin hissed, “I know there are whispers of things – evil things – joining him, on the wind. I know that you have been afraid, I know that the white bearded man has been afraid – everyone, afraid. I know that when the man of great evil lived before, there was no peace for any of us. I know that my species was nearly killed forever. I know that if he rises again, no one is safe.”

I nodded, “That’s pretty much the short of it.”

“You are often with the messy haired one,” Herin began, “Who is he?”

“My brother,” I answered.

“Your brother – he is in grave danger. You are a dragon. We protect our own,” Herin growled, “I would die for my siblings, for my mate, for my children. Instead, they died for me, in war.”

“War with other dragons? Or war with –“

“Dragons do not war. Dragons attack each other and move on. We have no business endlessly conquering,” Herin scoffed, “We are not humans. We take what we need; nothing more. We bother no one; we have no business in judging others. We disturb not nature; it gives us life, we should not give it death in return.”

I smiled despite myself, my teeth bearing, but my tail was twitching in joy.

“The evil man waged war against us. I lost my whole family. I fled; I had no reason to stay and die. I found this forest. The white bearded man found me, but did nothing. He let me stay,” Herin looked at me, “And now I have you.”

“Yes,” I agreed, “You do.”

“But you have things to do – most humans are always so busy, busy as bees, as though there are things more important than food, the sky, and company,” Herin scoffed.

“Yes, well, humans are weird,” I agreed.

“As long as you are aware that half of yourself is weird,” Herin laughed, smoke coming out of her mouth too, “Now fly.”

I looked up at the sky, took a deep breath, and started climbing one of the impossibly tall trees. My wings were too large and too fragile to open between them; I scurried up to the canopy. I was light enough – I could feel it in my bones, they were lighter, like a bird’s, with many hollow passages – to sit on top of the tree. My tail curled behind me, and I sat on the top, staring out over Hogwarts and the grounds.

It was still early enough that no smoke arose from Hagrid’s hut – I had time. I took a deep breath, looked up at the sky, and pushed off.

Flying came naturally – it had to have been instinct. I flapped my wings rapidly, but then I was gliding, and I did not need the force. I was moving slowly over the forest, my feet tucking underneath my body, making me more streamlined as I soared through the air. I flapped harder, and I moved faster – in fact, the harder I flapped, the faster I moved, and my wings seemingly were not getting tired. I flapped and flapped and flapped and flapped, and still I was going faster, zooming so fast that I quickly came up to the mountains and had to angle my tail just right – thank god for instinct – to avoid crashing.

I dove, headed back to the forest; I wanted to test my maneuvering. I bobbed and weaved at impossible speeds between all the trees, turning around and even rotating in the air, my wings spiraling around each other like the curves of an ammonite shell. I roared in pure, elated joy, before landing in front of Herin.

“You are a natural,” Herin barked, “You are a dragon.”

I nodded, looking at her, “Let me just confirm for my own stupid human mind.” I then transformed back into myself; I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and focused – and turned back into the dragon again.

“Do you believe me now, foolish human?” but Herin was smiling, her tail twitching.

“Yes,” I laughed joyfully, “And now I guess I must go.”

“Be careful, Maggie. I do not wish to see you lost to the evil man,” Herin warned, “Be careful.”

“I will,” I responded, nodding in respectful – or at least, it _felt_ respectful – way, “Thank you.”

Herin walked into the forest without another word, and I glided quickly to the edge of the forest. I then transformed back into a human, eagerly running up to the castle. I couldn’t wait to tell McGonagall. My watch said I still had time before potions; I would be fine.

As I ran through the entranceway, however, I saw him again – and I knew I had to get this over with.

George walked up to me, looking bashful – and hungover as hell. I looked at him, fear entering my heart again, filling up every corner of me. It was one thing to be confident when talking to a giant, wise _dragon_ of all things – it was quite another to be confident as little old me, who had been so easily overpowered just the day before.

“I… erm…” George paused.

 _Admit it_ , I begged in my head, _admit it, I can only admit it to myself if you admit it out loud._

“I got a little carried away last night. I’m sorry,” George stated.

That was decidedly not good enough.

“But… but Maggie, we had sex for the first time. You didn’t… you were… there was no emotion from you, no response,” George accused.

 _Oh, my god_. I wanted to die. I wanted to melt into the floor.

“I’m sorry. No matter what you might say otherwise… I just… I don’t believe you anymore. You don’t love me,” George shrugged.

 _Well that’s true_.

“I can’t do this anymore, Maggie. I’m sorry. It’s over,” George leaned over and kissed me on the cheek, making my insides turn into pure ice, “I… erm… I promise not to bother you much for a while. Hopefully, one day, we can be friends again. Um… bye.” And then he left, going into the Great Hall.

I watched him leave in amazement. I didn’t even know how to react, but I released my clenched hands. At least he hadn’t tried… the thing… again.

 _He also doesn’t really know what he did_ , I thought fearfully.

Lord help the next person he dated.

I walked towards the dungeons, overwhelmed with the highs and lows of the past week – my emotions were everywhere, all over the place, and I knew that I couldn’t take anything more, no matter how much flying I did.

I might have been a dragon, but I was human too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a huge, watershed moment for the story - please, please, PLEASE let me know what you think. Literally, this chapter and next chapter, everything changes afterwards - same in the original story, to be sure, but this is bigger than that. Thanks!


	43. Chapter Forty - Two: June 24, 1995, Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Suffering from something 
> 
> We're not sure of 
> 
> In a world 
> 
> There is no cure for 
> 
> These lives we live 
> 
> Test negative for happiness 
> 
> Flat line, no pulse, but eyes open 
> 
> Single file like soldiers on a mission 
> 
> If there's no war outside our heads 
> 
> Why are we losing? 
> 
> I don't ask for much 
> 
> Truth be told I'd settle 
> 
> For a life less frightening, 
> 
> A life less frightening." 
> 
> ~ Rise Against, "Life Less Frightening".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: Violence

Chapter 42: June 24, 1995, Hogwarts

I didn’t sleep again the night before the third task – or maybe I did, I don’t know. If I slept, I dreamt the whole time, and it was so vivid that I definitely did not feel rested when I opened my eyes again. I took a deep breath, running my hand through my hair.

I hadn’t managed to reach McGonagall yesterday – and, to be honest, I wasn’t really in the mood to talk to any of my friends, either. What was I supposed to tell them? That our mutual friend had…

No, I couldn’t think it. I closed my eyes tightly, swallowed heavily, and stood up. The only problem with my aversion to my friends was that today was the day of the third task. I had to work with Harry; we had to get him out of this thing alive. I squeezed my eyes shut again, took more deep breaths, and tried to remind myself of Herin – _I was a dragon_. That meant something; or at least, it meant something to her.

I left my dormitory and walked down the stairs, heading towards the Great Hall. I couldn’t avoid food forever – the gnawing hunger in my stomach had been there since yesterday, now, and I couldn’t ignore it anymore. I went and sat down at the edge of the Gryffindor table, grabbing a piece of toast and nibbling on it.

Immediately, Hermione, Neville and Harry sat around me, true to form. I was trying my hardest to not shake, or show any terror in my eyes as I looked up. Thankfully, George was not there.

“Fred told us what happened,” Hermione murmured.

“We’re so sorry, Maggie,” Harry rubbed my back comfortingly.

“The guy was a wanker. Breaking up with you like that? Right before the task? Bloody hell,” Neville frowned angrily, “He’s been avoiding everyone since then.”

“He’s been acting completely mental for months, we’ve all seen it, even Fred,” Hermione reassured, “No one thinks you did anything wrong. You shouldn’t have to avoid us.”

I was having a lot more trouble not shaking now. They didn’t know even a fraction of the entire story, but I didn’t have a fraction of the energy I would need to tell it.

“Thanks, guys,” I whispered in a hoarse voice.

“If you… if you need to not do the task today, I completely understand,” Harry murmured. I looked at him in shock.

“Of course I have to help!” I gasped.

“No, Hermione and Neville have trained just as much as us, either one of them could do it,” Harry shook his head.

“Yeah, they’ve trained on hexes, but Harry, we spent our entire childhood _running around in a dangerous forest_ ,” I hissed.

“That’s what I’ve been saying,” Neville muttered.

“I don’t want her to have to do something like this when she’s heartbroken!” Harry snapped.

“I can do it. I don’t need you guys molly coddling me,” I muttered.

Hermione sighed, “Alright, Maggie, if you’re sure.”

I nodded again. At that moment, Professor McGonagall walked up to us.

“Potter, the champions are congregating in the chamber off the Hall after breakfast,” McGonagall explained.

“But the task’s not till tonight!” Harry gasped in shock.

“I’m aware of that, Potter,” McGonagall rolled her eyes, “The champions’ families are invited to watch the final task. Now while this isn’t exactly new for you, you should greet them, at any rate.”

Harry looked at me in surprise, “Why would I need to greet Aunt Melinda and Uncle Nathaniel?”

I shrugged, “I dunno. Maybe Padfoot is here again.”

“Still,” Harry frowned.

“We better get to our exam,” Hermione sighed, “Come on, guys.”

I sat the exam, but it honestly felt like I would have done better by _not_ being there. My mind wasn’t focused at all. Still, the threat of failing was fairly terrifying, and I strained my brain for every ounce of historical knowledge I had gained from researching oppression and sociology in the magical world this past year. I think I managed to crap out a halfway decent essay as a result.

When I headed down to lunch, I saw not only my parents and Padfoot waiting at the Gryffindor table – but also my only living set of grandparents from America.

“Gran! Gramps!” I gasped, running over and giving them both hugs. Momentarily, I forgot how screwed up I currently was.

“Hello Margaret!” Gran chuckled in my ear as I hugged her.

“They flew all the way here from America for this!” Dad beamed, “Granted, they aren’t exactly happy this has happened, but…”

“Couldn’t keep quiet that our adopted grandson had been chosen as a champion,” Gramps harrumphed, “And now we’ve heard about everything else –“

“They’re pushing for us to move to America again,” Mum groaned, burying her face in her hands.

“We know you won’t, you were this deranged back when you got married,” Gramps shook his head in disbelief, “Still, it’s not safe for the children…”

“I think the problem is that the not safe stuff follows me, Gramps,” Harry sighed, “I swear I don’t go looking for this stuff.”

“At any rate,” Gran was scowling, as though she didn’t want to have this conversation any longer, “Where is your famed Professor McGonagall? I wish to discuss with her…”

“This should be good,” I grinned.

“She’s sitting up front – the lady dressed in green,” Harry pointed. Gran immediately got up and walked to the head table, Harry laughing quietly to himself.

“Oh Merlin – I should stop that, right?” Mum sighed heavily.

“No, no. I want to see how this plays out,” Dad laughed.

I looked up and watched the proceedings at the head table eagerly. Gran and Professor McGonagall were discussing things with each other already, and I watched in fascination as they both got up and left the table, walking past us and going to the corridor.

“Yes, I recognize that the concept itself is outdated, but I have managed to use it to create fifteen new spells in the past five years alone –“

“You _could_ be using your incredible talent to aid in research such as mine! For example, I hear from my granddaughter that you have amazing skills in animal transfiguration…”

“There is very little _literature_ available for me to pursue to familiarize myself with such concepts, Professor Johnson! Transfiguration Today has never even _mentioned_ the concept.”

“Then you need to broaden your horizons! Transfigurative Biology is a journal produced back home. I will send you copies if you would like – there are fascinating studies going on in _Felidae_ that should interest you!”

“I assumed based on your research that you were like your granddaughter in terms of the animals you were interested in…”

“Oh I am, but I also am like you, and my animagus form is a cat – specifically, mountain lion – so my interests are varied,” and Gran and Professor McGonagall were discussing eagerly with each other all the way up to the staircases. Mum looked positively horrified with embarrassment.

“This is going to be the longest day of my life. Two of my children in the tournament, the Minister coming to the event –“

“Wait, Fudge is coming?” Harry asked sharply.

Mum looked at us both calculatingly, “Yes. Which is why I _begged_ your father to leave the dog at home.”

“The dog would have been lonely,” but they both gave us significant looks that implicated that the dog in question insisted on coming.

“I’m nervous. I wish you didn’t have to bring Maggie into this. You could have brought in an older student, or…” but I cut Mum off.

“Mum, think about our childhood. No one is better equipped to make sure Harry gets through this alive,” I murmured. Mum looked at me sadly.

“I know.”

Hermione walked up to us, smiling shyly, “Sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Johnson, but I need to steal Maggie away, we have our exam for Ancient Runes now.”

Mum looked at Hermione sharply, “Now I’m assuming what Skeeter wrote about you is untrue, yes?”

Hermione nodded.

“Good. Just making sure,” Mum sighed, “Usually her stories are complete hogwash, but you can never be too careful. Yes, you two should go. Good luck!”

I waved and walked with Hermione, digging my hands into the pockets of my robes. She looked at me in worry.

“Are you okay? You should be okay for the task, you and Harry have practiced _loads_ …”

“No, I’m not worried about that,” I murmured.

“Then… are you upset I’m still with Fred?” Hermione asked.

“No! No, I have distinctly separated the two of them in my mind. There is no issue there,” I reassured.

Hermione frowned, “So you’re really this upset about George?”

Well, since I sort of felt like clawing out my insides and throwing them into a lake, I dare say I was this upset about him.

“Yeah,” I muttered.

“He was a prat, Maggie. He spent the ending of your relationship emotionally abusing you. You are better off,” Hermione soothed as we entered the classroom.

“Not to mention, the guy was obviously trying to control you,” Sam walked up and sat near us as we entered, “I mean the guy was constantly dragging you away everywhere.”

I nodded, my lips glued shut with the force of my silence.

“You have every right to be upset, just know, you’re going to be okay,” Hermione patted me on the arm comfortingly. I swallowed heavily and nodded again, attempting to focus on my upcoming exam, rather than the horror eating me alive.

During the dinner, I forced myself to eat because I hadn’t the whole day yesterday, but still it was forced. I almost felt like I was choking on the fish and chips I had managed to place on my plate. The Weasleys were sitting with us, now, but George was far away from me. In fact, no one seemed to want to talk to him; only Ron was making conversation with him, though it seemed forced. Fred looked at me and mouthed, “I’m sorry.” I nodded, wondering how much about the break-up George had told him.

 _Well, at any rate, he doesn’t know what he did, so Fred couldn’t_.

I had also meant what I said to Hermione about separating them in my mind. They may look the same, but there was something about having that sort of a history with someone that gave them a perceivable quality separate from their physical appearance. I looked at Fred and felt happiness, friendship, and kindness.

I looked at George and felt fear.

Dumbledore eventually rose to his feet at the staff table, looking around at all of us, and silence fell. Mum, who was sitting with us despite being a judge, patted Harry and me on the shoulder comfortingly.

“Ladies and gentlemen, in five minutes’ time, I will be asking you to make your way down to the Quidditch field for the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament. Will the champions and their designated partners please follow Mr. Bagman down to the stadium now.”

Harry and I stood up, walking together, our hands not touching but close enough to do so if we wished. Elena and Claire ran up to us, Elena hugging us tightly as we left. Hermione and Neville did the same, and I looked at Harry and swallowed heavily.

“Ready for this, brother?” I asked quietly.

“As ready as I’ll ever be, sister,” he responded, and we kept walking out towards the stadium.

Angelina and Alicia walked with us, both smiling at us as nervously as we felt. Behind us, I saw Effi and a tall girl who looked very similar to her walking with her.

“Effi, is this your twin?” Harry asked curiously. I remembered how they had talked at the second task, and realized that being champions was exactly the sort of thing to bring people together in a friendly way.

“Yes,” Effi nodded, “My fraternal twin,” she explained to the rest of us.

“Eva,” her sister introduced.

Behind all of us, Matteo was walking with an amazingly pretty girl. She looked Greek, with curly black hair and piercing blue eyes.

“Who did you bring, then, Matteo?” Angelina asked.

“This is my girlfriend, Zoe,” Matteo introduced, “She is sixteen, and was not old enough to enter, so didn’t come up with us.”

“I was sick for the Yule Ball,” Zoe explained in a thick accent, “So Matteo went with our friend – but I’m the best dueler Matteo knows.”

“So watch out,” but Matteo was grinning cheekily.

“Oh it is on, pretty boy,” Effi laughed.

“If it were the full moon, you would all be in trouble,” Zoe grinned, winking at me saucily. She was exceptionally pretty, and I felt my cheeks flare up with embarrassment.

“They would have had to move it, that would be crazy,” Angelina shook her head in surprise.

“Long as there aren’t any crocodiles,” Matteo scowled.

Harry burst into laughter and Matteo swatted him on the arm.

“Guess you all got really close, huh?” Alicia asked curiously.

“You have no idea how terrifying this tournament has been, Alicia,” Harry shook his head.

“Something about the fog part of the last task… I would trust these people with my life,” Effi nodded.

“And after the tournament is over, we can really trust each other with our lives!” Matteo joked.

“So are you as vicious as they claim?” Eva asked me, looking at me piercingly.

“Only towards people who deserve it,” I muttered.

“Like Malfoy,” Harry scowled.

“Yes, that boy is vile,” Matteo glared, “He immediately tried to disqualify me after the second task. One of the only few that did.”

“Unfortunately, his father has huge influence in our government and our media, so he gets to tell reporters his opinion of Maggie,” Alicia shook her head.

“Yeah, she’s a little violent, but she’s not _deranged_ ,” Angelina snorted.

“Thank you for those stunning votes of confidence,” I stated dully. Harry looked at me in worry.

“Are you going to be able to do this, Maggie?” he hissed in my ear. I looked at him and nodded. He frowned – he didn’t believe me, but there wasn’t much he could do now that we were at the Quidditch field.

The stands behind us were filling up; I didn’t know how much they could really see of the forest, given how thick the tree cover was. It reminded me of home, which comforted me greatly. I wondered if Herin could hear all the hullaballoo from her forest. I looked over towards it, and could see in the distance a pair of bright eyes – she had come. I blinked in her direction, and she blinked back.

Professor Moody, Hagrid, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Flitwick all walked up towards us. Ludo Bagman, who had led us all there, beamed at them.

“We will be patrolling the forest,” Professor McGonagall answered calmly, “If you are in real difficulty, and wish to be rescued, send red sparks into the air, and one of us will come and get you. If you are a champion, this _will_ disqualify you; if you are not, it will have no affect on your champion’s performance. Do you understand?”

We all nodded.

“Good luck, Harry,” Hagrid whispered, beaming at us, and the professors all walked in four different directions into the forest. Bagman turned to us all.

“You all will go into the center of the forest – follow me!” he explained brightly. We followed him directly into the middle, where there were eight pedestals all around.

“Please stand next to your champion. I will explain what will follow up in the stands,” Bagman beamed, “Good luck!”

I went and stood on a pedestal, and Harry stood next to me. I looked at him grimly, and he nodded.

Soon enough, Bagman’s voice was projecting into the crowd.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament is about to begin! Let me remind you how the points currently stand! Angelina Johnson is in first place with 85 points –“

A loud series of cheers went up in the audience.

“Harry Potter is in second place, with 81 points…”

More cheers, just as loud.

“Matteo DiSalvo is in third place, with 62 points,” there was cheering, though due to the fewer people from Beauxbatons present, it was smaller, “And Effi Rosenthal is in fourth place with 61 points.” More cheers, similar to Matteo’s in volume, arose.

“Now, I will be counting backwards from sixty seconds. At approximately thirty seconds left, Angelina and her partner, her friend from the Gryffindor Quidditch Team Miss Alicia Spinnet –“ a scattering of cheers went up – “Will be allowed to leave their pedestal. At twenty seconds left, Harry Potter and his partner, his adopted sister Maggie Johnson –“ a large whoop went out that I was sure was from Neville, plus other applause – “Will be allowed into the forest. At ten seconds, Matteo and his partner, his girlfriend Zoe Loukas,” the applause was only slight, “Will be allowed to leave. And finally, when I reach zero seconds, Effi Rosenthal and her partner, her sister Eva Rosenthal,” some more applause, “Will be allowed to enter. By leaving earlier, the champions in higher places _will_ have more time to hide, as the champions not only have to fight certain beasts within the forest, but also each other. Now, the Triwizard Cup will _not_ appear in the forest until _only two champions_ are remaining. Only a champion, and not a partner, may take hold of the cup.”

I looked at Harry and he nodded at me again, comforting me with his gaze.

“I will now begin my countdown. Sixty… Fifty-nine… Fifty-eight…”

I swallowed, looking all around at the forest. Sounds came from it, but nothing too terrifying; probably nothing I hadn’t seen before. The people around me all looked nervous in varying degrees – and all looked fierce. Would Angelina and Alicia hold our alliance? Or would they betray us? I didn’t know what to expect.

“Thirty-two… thirty-one… thirty…”

Angelina and Alicia immediately sprinted, running deep into the forest. I looked at Harry and braced myself, getting ready to go. I was trying my hardest to not throw up slightly in my mouth.

“Twenty-two… twenty-one… twenty…”

And I leapt from my pedestal, running as fast as I could in the forest, Harry following quickly behind me. Now that I had, thankfully, settled on my animagus form, my skills as a human were back to close to normal – yes, I was loud and faster than usual, but at a speed that Harry could, thankfully, keep up with.

“Come on!” I shouted, and Harry kept pace with me, the two of us running as fast as we could, as deep as we could, into the forest. I leapt over a tree stump and slid down a slight hill, continuing on, Harry following deftly behind me.

Finally, we reached what appeared to be the edge of the forest, and turned to look at each other, panting.

“Where do you think the others are?” Harry gasped. Bagman had shouted the final number a little bit ago already.

“I have no idea, should we look for Angelina and Alicia?” I hissed. I didn’t want to draw attention to us.

“Maybe – at the very least we shouldn’t try to avoid everyone, we want this to end quickly before something bad can happen – they went that way,” Harry pointed North. I nodded and we began running again, our wands out, now going a little slower to watch for enemies.

A loud rustling occurred to the left of us; we both spun on our heels to face whatever it was. I held my wand aloft, whispering “ _Lumos_ ” softly; Harry did the same, and we pointed our wands towards the sound.

Nothing seemed to come out of the forest. I frowned, turning around, and shouted in fright. A large spider – probably an acrocramantula – was behind us, rearing on its back legs, pincers clicking madly.

“ _Stupefy!_ ” Harry shouted immediately, pointing his wand at the spider’s belly.

“ _Impedimenta_!” I shouted afterwards, also aiming at the underside, and the spider keeled over on the floor. More rustling sounded around us and Harry and I sprinted away immediately, still headed towards where we had last seen Angelina.

We kept running, but Harry tripped over a large tree trunk, and I immediately slid in the dirt to run and help him up, pulling him up to his feet and through the forest. We kept running as fast as we could, and I felt hairs stick up on the back of my neck, as though someone were watching me.

I whirled around, looking for Herin, before realizing that was ridiculous – she couldn’t get into this forest without being noticed. She was _huge_. Also, she wouldn’t just watch me anymore. She would decidedly make her appearance known.

“Someone’s watching us,” I hissed. Harry lifted up his wand and looked around, spinning on his heels to look on all sides.

“Hello? Angelina?” Harry asked quietly.

I then watched in shock as Alicia ran out towards us. She had a large gash on the side of her head and was covered in blood, spluttering in shock and collapsing in front of us.

“Alicia!” I gasped, helping her up, “Alicia what happened?”

Alicia choked, “Angelina – curse – imperius –“

I looked around wildly, peering as hard as I could into the dark, deep forest.

“Who put the Imperius curse on Angelina?” Harry demanded.

“Dunno – didn’t see – just heard,” Alicia choked out, “Then she hit me – tried to knock me out.”

Harry and I looked at each other in terror.

“Effi and Matteo wouldn’t do this,” Harry responded firmly to my silent question, “They _wouldn’t_.”

“Maybe it’s the person who’s after you!” I hissed in terror, “Where’s Karkaroff?”

“At the judges table!” Harry responded, “He couldn’t leave and not be noticed!”

“What – are you two – on about?” Alicia choked out.

“Alicia, you have to send up sparks, you can’t stay here,” I hissed, “You’re going to bleed too much – okay? Go, there’s nothing you can do for Angelina, we’ll make sure she’s okay.”

Alicia had tears in her eyes, “I couldn’t stop it – I didn’t even see –“

“Alicia, you’re losing a lot of blood, you have to _go_ ,” Harry groaned, “Now!”

Alicia, still crying, sent sparks up into the air with her wand.

“One of us should stay with her until a professor gets here,” I hissed.

“But now that she’s sent up the sparks, someone could come for us – we have to go,” Harry hissed back.

“Go,” Alicia spluttered, wiping blood from her mouth, “I’ll be okay.”

Harry and I looked at each other in worry.

“I’ll stay,” I promised, “Go, Harry, go find someone – we have to end this now. Don’t worry, I’ll find you.”

Harry nodded, running off into the woods. I stood with Alicia, frowned for a minute, and pulled off my t-shirt.

“Maggie, I know you swing both ways, but I have a girlfriend,” Alicia laughed weakly.

“As flattered as I am that you think I’m coming onto you while we’re in the third task,” I responded dully, “I’m making a bandage.” I ripped off the bottom half of my shirt and put it back on. It still covered down to above my belly button. I then wrapped my shirt neatly around Alicia’s head.

“Thanks,” Alicia murmured.

“Any time,” I paused, looking around wildly for anyone who could come after us. I pointed my wand at the bushes, looking around madly.

“Alright, there doesn’t seem to be anything,” I sighed.

Alicia moaned in pain, clutching her head. I swallowed again. I didn’t like that Harry was out there all by himself.

Loud, thumping steps approached us – I looked up and saw Hagrid lumbering towards us.

“Who’s hurt, then?” Hagrid grunted. I pointed to Alicia.

“Bloody ‘ell!” Hagrid gasped, picking up Alicia, “Maggie – yeh go fin’ Harry, go, now!”

I nodded and ran away, confident that Alicia was safe. I was all alone in the forest – no one could see me, and I hadn’t seen a way for the task to be viewed from the stands when I left. Judging by the fact that Bagman was announcing things about champions fighting, no one could see much, and Bagman was decidedly focusing on the champions. I hadn’t heard _anything_ about Alicia.

 _I have to find Harry_ , I thought determinedly, and changed into the dragon. I immediately took off, flying deftly between all the trees, but slowly so that I wouldn’t draw attention to myself. I continued to fly in the direction Harry had gone, bobbing and weaving between all the trees neatly.

I started to hear sounds; I climbed up quickly into the branches of a tree, looking down below. I peered carefully, extending my neck down, squinting into the foliage.

Angelina Johnson walked through the forest, looking around wildly. She was decidedly under the influence of the curse – I could see her eyes were not focusing from here. I hissed angrily – I didn’t want to kill her, but I had to knock her out before she hurt anyone else.

She looked up at me at my hissing – I guess I wasn’t as quiet as I thought I was. Just as she sent a curse my way, I leapt down from the tree and slid in the dirt to face her, growling loudly. I counted on the fact that she wouldn’t necessarily remember this (I didn’t remember seeing much of anything when I was under the curse) as I dove at her, knocking her to the ground and pressing her into the dirt with my claws.

I roared into Angelina’s face and knocked her in the head with my tail, before leaping off of her and gliding back into the forest as fast as I could. I really had to find Harry now; every minute apart from him was another minute when he could be attacked.

I heard noises again and I changed back into a human in midair, falling to my knees and immediately breaking into a run. I looked around madly and saw before me a sight I had hoped I would never see again.

“ _Harry!_ ” I screamed. He was lying on the ground, a pool of blood around his head, and he looked like he wasn’t moving at all – dead. I screamed again and dove to his side, hitting him slightly, reaching for his wrist and feeling for his pulse – it wasn’t there.

“ _Harry! Harry! No, Harry!_ ” I continued screaming at the top of my lungs, shaking the body now, trying to get it to wake up – I couldn’t see anything through the tears streaming from my eyes. I broke into louder sobs, collapsing onto the ground, pressing my forehead into the dirt. I couldn’t feel anything anymore – I couldn’t breathe anymore.

Footsteps came up behind me and suddenly Harry’s body was gone. I looked in surprise as a large dementor appeared before me, making me feel icy cold on top of everything else. I stumbled back in surprise as a voice shouted, “ _Riddikulus!_ ”

The dementor disappeared in a wisp of smoke, and I looked in shock up at Harry, who was very much alive, and looking down at me in surprise.

“Maggie, do you really think if I had been killed the task would still be happening?” Harry asked in surprise. I was shaking madly, however; I had not been expecting a boggart, and I was still in the mindset that the very alive person before me was, in fact, dead.

“Come on, Maggie, I’m alive,” Harry urged, pulling me up onto my feet, “We don’t have time for this.”

I nodded, and we sprinted back into the forest again, continuing on.

“So what’s the plan now?” I whispered; I didn’t seem to have much voice left, “We can’t join up with Angelina…”

“We find Matteo and Effi, and we get this over with,” Harry hissed. We continued running together, directly into a giant group of very large, very vicious, and very much not tamed blast ended skrewts.

“Shite!” I screamed, and Harry shouted, “ _Impedimenta_!” The spell hit the armor of the skrewt, so I shouted, “ _Impediementa!_ ” myself. We continued to shoot curses at the skrewts, until finally one of us – probably Harry – managed to hit the closest one on the fleshy, shell-less underside. Harry and I looked at each other and sprinted away before the rest of them could attack us, running as fast as we could through the forest.

Screams sounded from the distance; I did not recognize them. Harry looked torn, and I groaned.

“If someone gets hurt cause a bad guy’s after you, you’ll never forgive yourself. Let’s _go_ ,” I urged. Harry and I sprinted as fast as we could through the woods, towards the sound. My legs were starting to tire, screaming from the effort of all the running.

“I hope Alicia’s told everyone that Angelina’s been imperiused!” Harry moaned.

“I’m sure she has – and we can vouch,” I reassured. My mind was in pure survival mode now; with a dangerous dark wizard controlling people and clearly not afraid to use violent, even deadly force, I didn’t have time to worry about anything else. We kept running, now hearing the sounds of curses and spells flashing in the air. We continued to run, coming upon the scene panting for breath.

Matteo, Effi, Eva, and Zoe were all fighting Angelina, who appeared to have practically super-human dueling abilities.

“She’s gone insane!” Matteo shouted at us, “Stop her!”

“She’s under the Imperius Curse!” Harry roared, “She doesn’t know what she’s doing.”

All of them started swearing in languages I didn’t understand – Italian, German, and Greek. I tried to curse her, shouting, “ _Stupefy!_ ” but Angelina managed to block it.

Matteo looked at the scene as he fought as well, clearly calculating in his head, before sprinting off on his own. Zoe followed him, and the two left as quickly as possible. Angelina, however, was refusing to fight Harry and me; if whoever was controlling her wanted to hurt Harry, they were doing a terrible job.

“Why is she not attacking you?” Matteo shouted at the top of his lungs.

“I don’t know!” Harry roared, “I don’t know what the _bloody hell_ is going on!”

I screamed in fury and dived at Angelina, tackling her to the ground. She threw me off of her and I rolled over, spluttering in the dirt. I dived for her ankles but she avoided them, still fighting with Matteo and Zoe.

“How do you find out who put someone under the curse?” I shouted at Harry. He just shook his head, focusing on attacking Angelina. If we weren’t careful, she would be seriously hurt. I ran as fast as I could, diving into her, knocking her to the ground. She turned her wand on me and shouted, “ _Crucio_!”

In retrospect, it shouldn’t have surprised me that a person capable of using one Unforgivable Curse was capable of using another. I screamed at the top of my lungs; the pain was blinding, I could barely feel anything else as I writhed in terror.

And then, suddenly, it had ended; I looked up weakly to see that the others had just recovered from the shock of seeing Angelina do that to fight her again. I rolled away, panting and spluttering. Harry was looking at me in terror, but still fighting, curses snapping through the air angrily as I looked around wildly. I had writhed around so violently when under the curse that I was covered in blood – I had apparently scratched myself on a sharp tree branch. I looked at my arm, seeing a gouge; but my face was wet, and I touched it – I had a cut on my forehead too. I moaned in pain, standing up and clutching my forehead.

“Send up red sparks, Maggie! Do it!” Harry shouted. I looked at him in shock, my dazed emotions at the blood suddenly draining away with the fear that his words caused.

“No! I WILL NOT LEAVE YOU!” I screamed, and I started attacking Angelina with them.

Zoe was indeed an amazing dueler; better than Harry, even, she took up all of Angelina’s time. I continued to fight, but I was getting exhausted; the longer we were in here, the more terror I felt.

“ENOUGH!” Angelina suddenly shouted – or, I should say, Angelina’s controller suddenly shouted. We all watched in shock as she raised her wand and pointed it at Zoe –

“ _AVADA KEDAVRA!_ ”

I screamed in horror as Zoe collapsed, dead; Matteo was shouting at the top of his lungs, and Harry had tackled Angelina to the ground, shouting “ _STUPEFY!_ ” She was finally knocked out, and I looked over at Matteo in terror. He looked so furious and angry and hurt that I felt as though he were me; I ran over to him in horror, as did Harry.

Matteo looked at both of us, “She – she was Imperiused? You do not lie?”

“No,” I whispered.

“Alicia saw it happen,” Harry reassured.

Matteo swallowed, and then raised his wand in the air, sending red sparks.

“Go,” he whispered, “I cannot continue.”

I could hear screaming in the stands; I briefly wondered if the task would continue.

We ran as fast as we could, and I was getting extremely exhausted as we continued to look around, now, for the Cup.

“Where is it going to appear?” Harry groaned, “This forest is _huge_ – we’ll never find it!”

“What if they put it back in the center of the forest?” I suggested, panting, “They know that’s the last place we’d look!”

Harry nodded, “It’s as good a guess as any!” And we ran together towards the center, sprinting as fast as we could towards the center. The trees whirred past us; my feet were beginning to ache; and in the madness, I grabbed Harry’s hand. He squeezed mine and we continued running as fast as we could, leaping in unison over trees and ducking together under branches.

I could hear, in the distance, something chasing us now. I increased my speed, pulling Harry along with me. Whoever it was, they couldn’t run very fast; but still, I wanted to get away as fast as possible, in case it was someone coming after Harry in the last minutes of the Tournament. Harry looked at me in a panic, clearly having the same thought, and we both increased our speed, our legs pumping as hard as they possibly could, driven by an increase in adrenaline.

We were coming up on a grove of gnarly, low-hanging trees; we were trapped. I let go of Harry’s hand, grunting with effort as I leapt up and onto a branch, leaping from branch to branch as fast as I could before jumping back down again. I heard Harry follow me and grabbed him when he jumped after me, holding his hand again and leading him between all the trees.

“I love you Harry!” I shouted, fear entering my mind that I might never be able to say it again. Harry looked at me in shock, but his face clearly showed a similar emotion.

“I love you, Maggie!” he responded, as we kept going towards the center. I could see light up ahead; I breathed in relief as we kept running as fast as we could while holding each other’s hands, finally sliding in on the dirt into the clearing, collapsing onto our stomachs.

I looked up, my head snapping up with the realization that I wouldn’t know if there was an enemy, my pony tail flopping with the effort. Across the clearing I saw Effi and Eva stumble in as well, and there in the center was a large, brilliantly blue cup, as ornate as one would expect such a large trophy to be.

“Harry!” I shouted. Harry got up and immediately sprinted towards it at the same time as Effi; the two of them dove at once and both grabbed it –

 _Thank God, it’s over_ , I thought, but suddenly they had both disappeared, swirling away into the atmosphere, gone with a large snap. I looked at the scene in shock, my mouth hanging open in surprise.

“ _HARRY!_ ” I screamed at the top of my lungs, “ _HARRY!_ ” I ran forward to where he had just been, clutching the grass in horror, spinning around in a circle. I looked up and saw that Eva had run towards me, looking at me in equal terror.

“What happened to them?” Eva screamed at me. I shook my head, my body shaking with panic.

“I don’t – I don’t know – I don’t know – I don’t know!” I shouted at the top of my lungs, “oh my god, oh my god, oh my god!”

“Is it another part of the task?” Eva cried, “Do they have to do something else?”

I looked at her. It seemed like, though that could be the case, it was much more sinister.

“Eva – Eva, do you know about Voldemort?” I whispered. Eva nodded.

“Who does not – what are you saying.”

“There have been signs that he’s coming back,” I hurriedly explained, “And there’s a good chance that he’s going to use Harry to do so – or that he was going to attack Harry – by putting his name in the Goblet of Fire.”

Eva looked in terror at the spot where they had just disappeared, “So – they just left –“

“Probably to Voldemort!” I screamed, “Oh my god, oh my god, _oh my god_!” I sent my wand in the air, letting out red sparks, my heart pounding in my chest.

“He’s going to die, he’s going to die, he’s going to die!” I screamed at the top of my lungs, collapsing into the grass, my terror physically weighing me down. Sobs wracked through my body as I curled into a fetal position on the ground, hugging my knees to my chest.

I could hear someone running towards us; I looked up to see Professor McGonagall rushing towards me.

“Maggie, what happened?” she asked hurriedly.

“The cup was a portkey,” Eva managed to answer where I could not, “Effi and Harry are gone!”

McGonagall reached down and hoisted me up, “Come on, Maggie, let’s go, let’s get you out of here.”

I whimpered in terror, looking up at her. “McGonagall, it’s Voldemort, it has to be.” My voice was so hoarse it barely came out in a whisper.

“Yes, but there’s no way – we do not know where they have gone,” McGonagall’s face was completely white, “Back now, out of the forest.”

We all walked towards the edge of the forest, finally exiting together, McGonagall still looking as white as a sheet. We reached the stands, and everyone was watching us come out silently.

“What’s happening?” Eva asked, “What – what happened to the girl under the Imperius Curse?”

“Angelina is still passed out; we do not know if the curse has been lifted or not, and will not enervate her until we can be sure. Matteo is recovering in the tent…” McGonagall’s eyes filled with tears.

“Zoe’s…” I choked out.

“Dead, yes,” McGonagall confirmed. She looked at me critically, “You need to get patched up. Both of you. Go!”

Eva and I walked over to the tent, but I was still blinded with fear over Harry; I only let Madam Pomphrey clean the cuts before I walked away, towards the stands.

My family, Hermione, and Neville had run towards me, and I collapsed into my father’s arms, sobbing horrifically into them. He soothed me, rubbing my back comfortingly.

“What do we do about Harry?” Hermione demanded – shrieked, really – behind me, “What do we do?”

“We can’t know where the portkey went, seeing as it was unauthorized,” Mum roared, “I have no idea – the cup has been under constant surveillance – who could have possibly -!”

“Karkaroff has run off,” stated a voice behind me, a voice I loathed, “It was probably him, Melinda.”

I looked up to see Fudge standing there, looking fretful.

“Now, a cruel prank to pay, to be sure; but he wouldn’t want to see his own champion hurt –“

“A PRANK?” I screamed. My dad held tightly to me, putting his hand over my mouth before I could say anything more.

“Yes, a prank, Miss Johnson,” Fudge replied firmly, “All this nonsense about You-Know-Who coming back.”

Mum looked at him in shock, “You cannot be serious right now.”

“I do not see how transporting Harry Potter away would cause the return of him! No, it was a cruel trick, in case Hogwarts won the tournament – Karkaroff must have put Angelina Johnson under the Imperius Curse, to eliminate a Hogwarts competitor – and then turned the cup into a portkey, in case Harry were to grab it!” Fudge explained.

“How could he, he was in the stands?” Mum sneered, “With us!”

“I do not know how dark magic works – Karkaroff was a death eater, everyone knows this –“

I stared as Alicia ran over, her head bandaged up with a real bandage now, throwing herself on me in a hug.

“Oh my god – Maggie – oh my god!” she gasped.

“I know,” I whispered, looking at Fudge, “You have to find him! You have to bring him back!”

“I’m sure he will be brought back soon – again, Karkaroff would not abandon his own champion!” Fudge laughed nervously.

“You’re insane!” I managed to shout before anyone could stop me.

“Melinda, _control your daughter_ ,” Fudge snapped.

“She’s not the one who needs to be controlled!” Neville roared.

“Harry Potter is missing, and you’re not even _looking_ for him!” Hermione cried.

“This is ridiculous, Minister, send someone to look for him!” Dad demanded.

“He will come back! I guarantee it!” Fudge hissed.

“Cornelius, we cannot count on this,” Dumbledore was here now, looking at all of us, “Send out the aurors immediately to look for him.”

Fudge harrumphed, “How do we not know this is some sort of stunt on his part –“

“Are you really suggesting that a fourteen year old boy is capable of creating a portkey?” Mum hissed.

“I’m saying there’s something funny about that boy!” Fudge roared.

“I’ve raised him for fourteen years!” Mum roared, “He is as normal a child as any.”

“Yes, and I suppose you consider your daughter normal, too?” Fudge laughed cruelly.

“You have no right to talk about my family like that,” Dad hissed, pulling out his wand.

“I can see where she gets it,” Fudge looked at my father cruelly, “Pity we gave you citizenship. You know, are we sure your testimony about the Prewetts was correct?”

“HOW DARE YOU?!” my dad screamed – he looked more like me than ever, “HOW DARE YOU?!”

I fell to the ground, holding my head in my hands. My ears were ringing; my head was spinning; and I could barely concentrate on anything.

“Someone get my daughter to a healer!” Mum shouted.

“She doesn’t need a healer, she needs to be admitted to the Janus Thickey Ward!” Fudge shouted.

“NO!” Neville screamed, and I heard a thud. I looked up from my hands to see that Neville had tackled the minister of Magic to the ground, shoving his wand in the Minister’s face.

“NO, she is FINE, she is _not insane_ , you take that back, you foul –“ but Neville wasn’t allowed to finish his speech as my mum hoisted him off of her. I put my head back in my hands again, whimpering to myself.

_Where’s Harry, where’s Harry, where’s Harry, where’s Harry_

“You should really look into the company your children keep! Insane, the lot of you!” Fudge roared.

A loud sound occurred somewhere far away – I heard a thump, from within the stadium. Everyone in the stands started screaming again, and I looked up. Mum, Dad, and Dumbledore had taken off running towards the stadium.

Neville was hoisting me onto my feet; he held me tightly in his arms and started whispering soothingly into my ear as Fudge scoffed behind me. I whimpered, so overwhelmed that I didn’t even know what the people were saying around me.

When I looked up, Harry was standing at the edge of the stadium, looking at all of us in shock. He was covered in blood; Effi wasn’t with him. He looked at me, his face white as snow as he shouted,

“Lord Voldemort – he’s – he’s _back_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your lovely feedback! Don't worry, George doesn't get away with what he did - but it's going to be a while before Maggie tells anyone. Please let me know what you thought of this chapter! Almost done with GoF!


	44. Chapter Forty - Three: June 24 - July 3, 1995, Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Why did the luck run dry 
> 
> Laugh in my face, so pleased to desert me 
> 
> Why do the cruel barbs fly? 
> 
> Now when disgrace can no longer hurt me 
> 
> Because I'm falling down 
> 
> With people standing round 
> 
> But before I hit the ground 
> 
> Is there time 
> 
> Could I find someone out there to help me?" 
> 
> ~ Duran Duran, "Falling Down".

Chapter 43: June 24 – July 3, 1995, Hogwarts

My eyes and Harry’s stayed locked; I couldn’t hear anything around me, really, though I was aware that people were shouting, moving about, panicking. I ran forward to Harry and he to me, looking at me desperately.

“He’s back,” Harry repeated, looking at me, “He’s back.”

I swallowed; tears were flowing freely from my eyes without my permission. Everyone in the stands was screaming; Harry was covered in an awful lot of blood; I looked around wildly for Dumbledore. I could barely process anything; my vision appeared to be flickering in and out of consciousness.

“Harry – Harry!” Hermione screamed, running up to us. Neville also ran, and suddenly the four of us were in a circle, and Harry was dazed, falling to the ground in a heap as adults came over to us.

“Where’s Effi?”

“What happened?”

“What’s going on?”

“You’re hurt!”

“So much blood –“

“What’s wrong with him?”

“He’ll need to go to the hospital wing! He’s ill!”

“He’s injured – Dumbledore, Effi’s parents are here, where is she?”

“She’s dead,” Harry whispered above the fray, “I couldn’t save her – I couldn’t grab her – there were too many of them – she’s still there –“

“Someone should tell them!”

“I’ll take Harry, Dumbledore, I’ll take him –“

“I would prefer it if –“

“Dumbledore, Effi’s parents are running over – don’t you think we need to tell them?”

“Harry, stay here –“

Everyone was still talking, but I was with Harry on the ground, and so were Hermione and Neville, and we were trying to help Harry to his feet, but I could barely see straight, and I was amazed I was standing myself, and I looked over and Hermione was crying, and Neville looked like he was going to be sick, and it was just too much, too much, too much, too much.

I looked in shock as Moody walked up to us, grabbing Harry and managing to get him to his feet.

“All right, son, I’ve got you – hospital wing,” he explained gruffly.

“Dumbledore said stay,” Neville protested.

“Leave him!” Hermione sobbed.

“He needs to lie down,” Moody explained gruffly.

“No!” I finally managed to scream, holding onto Harry, though Moody was trying to take him away.

“The boy needs to be cleaned up – Johnson, _stay_ ,” Moody growled. I refused, and Hermione and Neville helped lead me up to follow Moody and Harry into the castle.

“Moody, we’re not going to the Hospital Wing – this is your office,” Hermione protested next to me.

“Want to ask Potter what happened without the risk of being overheard – Potter, what happened?” Moody asked gruffly.

“Cup was – was a Portkey,” Harry choked out, “Took Effi and me to a graveyard… Voldemort was there… Voldemort…”

“The Dark Lord was there?” Moody asked as we clunked up to his office, “What happened then?”

“Killed Effi… They killed Effi…”

“And then?”

“Made a potion… got his body back…”

“The Dark Lord got his body back? He’s returned?”

“And the Death Eaters came… and then we dueled… his snake attacked me… we fought…”

“You dueled with the Dark Lord?”

“Got away… my wand… did something funny… I saw my mum and dad… they came out of his wand…”

“You saw your mum and dad?” Hermione gasped.

“Come in, come into this room you lot – come here,” Moody urged. We were in his office. I didn’t understand why we were there, but I didn’t understand a lot of things right now.

“Drink it, you’ll feel better,” Moody gave Harry a potion, “Drink it, now, I need to know exactly what happened…”

I collapsed against the wall, sliding down.

“Professor Moody – I think Maggie needs that too –“

“Yes, yes – here, Longbottom, here –“

Someone was forcing something peppery down my throat – pepperup potion, no doubt. I looked up into the eyes of Neville; his were filled with terror and worry, his arms around me comfortingly.

“Voldemort’s really back?” Hermione whimpered.

“You sure he’s back, Harry?” Moody asked, “How did he do it?”

“He took stuff from his father’s grave, and from Wormtail, and me,” Harry whispered. My head was beginning to feel clearer, but my mind was still in shock, very few thoughts were really going through it now. I collapsed forward, my head hitting Neville’s chest, and I moaned in pain.

“What did the Dark Lord take from you?” Moody asked.

“Blood,” Harry responded. Hermione whimpered.

Moody let out his breath in a long, low hiss, “And the Death Eaters? They returned?”

“Yes,” Harry answered, “Loads of them…”

“How did he treat them?” Moody asked quietly, “Did he forgive them?”

Harry jolted upwards in his chair, making a clattering sound; I looked up from Neville’s chest to look at him fearfully.

“There’s a Death Eater at Hogwarts! There’s a Death Eater here – they put my name in the Goblet Fire, they made sure I got through to the end –“

Harry tried to get up, but Moody pushed him back down. Hermione’s face was white with terror.

“I know who the Death Eater is,” Moody answered quietly.

“Karkaroff?” Harry asked wildly, “Where is he? Have you got him? Is he locked up?”

“Karkaroff?” Moody laughed oddly, “Karkaroff fled tonight, when he felt the Dark Mark burn upon his arm. He betrayed too many faithful supporters of the Dark Lord to wish to meet them… but I doubt he will get far. The Dark Lord has ways of tracking his enemies.”

“Karkaroff’s _gone_? He ran away – but then, he didn’t put my name in?” Harry gasped.

“No,” Moody paused, “No, he didn’t. It was I who did that.”

“What?” Neville gasped.

“You didn’t do that! How could you have done that!” Hermione shrieked.

“I assure you I did,” Moody paused, drawing his wand and pointing it at all of us.

“He forgave them, then?” Moody demanded, “The Death Eaters who went free? The ones who escaped Azkaban?”

“What?” Harry asked quietly. I was so confused my head was hurting.

“I asked you,” Moody hissed, “Whether he forgave the scum who never even went to look for him. Those treacherous cowards who wouldn’t even brave Azkaban for him. The faithless, worthless bits of filth who were brave enough to cavort in masks at the Quidditch World Cup, but fled at the sight of the Dark Mark when I fired it into the sky.”

“What… are you talking about…” Neville whispered.

“I told you, you lot,” Moody paused, “If there’s one thing I hate more than any other, it’s a Death Eater who walked free. They turned their backs on my master when he needed them most. I expected him to punish them. I expected him to torture them. Tell me he hurt them, Harry… Tell me he told them that I, I alone remained faithful… prepared to risk everything to deliver to him the one thing he wanted above all… _you_.”

“It can’t be you!” Hermione gasped.

“You didn’t… you didn’t do this!” Harry begged.

“Who put your name in the Goblet of Fire, under the name of a different school? I did. Who frightened off every person I thought might try to hurt you or prevent you from winning the tournament? I did. Who urged Professor McGonagall to let you and your friends practice with muggle weapons, despite the damage you inflicted on the castle doing so? I did.”

Mood leered at all of us eagerly.

“It hasn’t been easy, Harry, guiding you through these tasks without arousing suspicion. I have had to use every ounce of cunning I possess, so my hand would not be detectable in your success. Dumbledore would have been very suspicious if you had managed everything too easily. As long as you got into the forest, with a decent head start – then, I knew, I would have a chance of getting rid of the other champions and leaving your way clear. But I also had to contend with your stupidity… the second task… that was when I was most afraid we would fail. I was keeping watch on you, Potter. I knew you hadn’t figured out the scrolls. I had to hiss hints in Angelina’s ear, making quiet suggestions in the hallways… and then when you figured it out, I whispered clues to you, telling you things that would help a dunderhead as big as you figure out the riddles… You ran back, like an idiot, for that Effi girl, but still, Dumbledore took it for nobility… And you and your sister had an easier time of it than you should have in the forest, of course. I was always near you, able to see through the trees, cursing many obstacles out of your way. I put the Imperius Curse on Angelina… sadly, the others were too meddlesome… if I did not get rid of the Greek girl, why, you might never have gotten the Cup…”

None of this made any sense. I was gripping Neville’s sweater in terror, looking at Moody with pure confusion.

“The Dark Lord didn’t manage to kill you, Potter, and he _so_ wanted to,” Moody whispered, “Imagine how he will reward me when he finds I have done it for him. I gave you to him – the thing he needed above all to regenerate – and then I killed you for him. I will be honored beyond all other Death Eaters. I will be his dearest, his closest supporter… closer than a son…”

I was too dumbstruck to think to pull out my wand. The others seemed to be reacting similarly.

“The Dark Lord and I,” Mood hissed, looking insane, “Have much in common. Both of us, for instance, had very disappointing fathers… very disappointing indeed. Both of us suffered the indignity, Harry, of being named after those fathers. And both of us had the pleasure… the very great pleasure… of killing our fathers to ensure the continued rise of the Dark Order!”

“You’re mad!” Harry shouted.

“Completely mental!” Neville agreed.

“STUPEFY!” Hermione screamed, gaining her composure before the rest of us. Moody was blasted backwards, his office blowing up with him. We all looked at her in shock as the door to the office flew open, Dumbledore standing in the doorway. He looked absolutely terrifying as he stared down at Moody – there was no smile on his face, no twinkle in his eyes – only cold fury.

McGonagall came over to us, pulling Neville and me onto our feet.

“Come on, everyone, Hospital Wing, now,” McGonagall instructed, and she looked like she was about to cry. I gripped her robes tightly, looking up at her with complete and utter desperation.

“No,” Dumbledore ordered.

“Look at them all! They’ve been through enough!”

“They will stay because they need to understand, Minerva,” Dumbledore snapped, “Understanding is the first step to acceptance, and only with acceptance can there be recovery. They need to know who has put them through the ordeal they suffered tonight, and why.”

“How can it have been Moody?” Harry gasped.

“It wasn’t Moody!” Hermione sobbed.

“Very astute, Hermione,” Dumbledore murmured, “The real Moody would not have removed you all from my sight after what happened tonight. The moment I knew he had taken you, I followed.”

“Who was it then, Hermione?” Neville begged.

“I do not know, but Severus, go and fetch me the strongest Truth Potion you possess, and then get the house-elf Winky from the kitchens. Minerva, go and get the Johnsons; insist they bring their dog,” Dumbledore ordered quietly.

Both of them looked confused, but left immediately. I looked over at Hermione who’s brow was furrowed in concentration.

“Dumbledore – I think – but it can’t be – sir – it’s…”

“Hermione, while I am sure that you are correct, give me one moment,” Dumbledore then looked inside Moody’s trunk, which had seven separate locks, and Dumbledore continued to try each key until finally, on the seventh key, he revealed that the inside of the trunk was a sort of pit. Ten feet below, fast asleep, was the real Mad-Eye Moody. I looked in shock, gripping Harry’s arm tightly.

“Stunned – controlled by the Imperius Curse – very weak,” Dumbledore muttered as he fell to the floor beside Moody, “Of course, they would have needed to keep him alive. Harry, throw down the Imposter’s cloak – he’s freezing. Madam Pomphrey will need to see him, but he seems in no immediate danger.”

Harry threw down the cloak, and I looked over at Hermione.

“Who?” I whispered hoarsely. Neville had not removed his arm from my shoulder.

“Barty Crouch Junior,” Hermione whispered. I looked at her in disbelief as Dumbledore came back up to us, wiping off his robes.

“Polyjuice potion,” Dumbledore explained, “You see the simplicity of it, and the brilliance. For Moody never _does_ drink except from his hip flask, he’s well known for it. The imposter need, of course, to keep the real Moody close by, so he could continue making the potion. In the excitement of tonight, however… I believe that our fake Moody may have forgotten to take his potion as he should have…”

Moody before us began to change – his scars disappeared, the skin became smooth, the nose began to shrink, the hair withdrew and turned the color of straw, the wooden leg was pushed away by a normal one, the eyeball popped out of the man’s face…

Harry’s mouth dropped open in shock, “Hermione, you’re _right_ ,” he managed to choke out. At that moment, Snape had returned, Winky on his heels.

“Crouch!” Snape gasped, “Barty Crouch!”

“Oh my goodness!” McGonagall gasped.

“What the hell!” My dad was there now, and he swore at the top of his lungs. There were far too many people trying to crowd inside the office now.

Winky looked around all the legs and scampered forward.

“Master Barty, Master Barty, what is you doing here – you is killed him! You is killed him! You is killed Master’s son!”

“He is simply stunned, Winky,” Dumbledore responded kindly, “Step aside please. Severus, do you have the potion?”

Snape handed a bottle of clear liquid to Dumbledore; Dumbledore pulled Barty Crouch Junior into a sitting position, forced his mouth open, and poured three drops of the potion inside it. He then waved his wand wordlessly, and Barty Crouch Junior opened his eyes. His gaze was unfocused, and his face was slack.

“Can you hear me?” Dumbledore asked softly.

“Yes,” Barty muttered.

“I would like you to tell us,” Dumbledore whispered, “How you came to be here. How did you escape from Azkaban?”

“My mother saved me,” Crouch began, “She knew she was dying. She persuaded my father to rescue me as a last favor to her. He loved her as he had never loved me. He agreed. They came to visit me. They gave me a draught of Polyjuice Potion containing one of my mother’s hairs. She took a draught of Polyjuice Potion containing one of my hairs. We took on each other’s appearance.”

Winky was whimpering protests in her corner.

“The dementors are blind. They sensed one healthy, one dying person entering Azkaban. They sensed one healthy, one dying person leaving it. My father smuggled me out, disguised as my mother, in case any prisoners were watching through their dies. My mother died a short while after in Azkaban. She was careful to drink Polyjuice Potion until the end. She was buried under my name and bearing my appearance. Everyone believed her to be me.”

“And what did your father do with you, when he had got you home?” Dumbledore asked quietly.

“Staged my mother’s death. A quiet, private funeral. That grave is empty. The house-elf nursed me back to health. Then I had to be concealed. I had to be controlled. My father used a number of spells to subdue me. When I had recovered my strength, I only thought of my master… of returning to his service.”

“How did your father subdue you?” Dumbledore asked.

“The Imperius curse. I was under my father’s control. I was forced to wear an Invisibility Cloak day and night. I was always with the house-elf. She was my keeper and caretaker. She pitied me. She persuaded my father to give me occasional treats. Rewards for my good behavior.”

“Did anyone ever discover that you were still alive?” Dumbledore asked softly, “Did anyone know except your father and the house-elf?”

“Yes, a witch in my father’s office. Bertha Jorkins. She came to the house with papers for my father’s signature. He was not at home. Winky showed her inside and returned to the kitchen, to me. But Bertha Jorkins heard Winky talking to me. She came to investigate. She heard enough to guess who was hiding under the Invisibility Cloak. She confronted him. He put a very powerful Memory Charm on her to make her forget what she’d found out. Too powerful. He said it damaged her memory permanently.”

“Tell me about the Quidditch World Cup,” Dumbledore demanded.

“Winky talked my father into it. Spent months persuading him. I had not left the house for years. I had loved Quidditch. Let him go, she said. He will be in his Invisibility Cloak. He can watch. Let him smell fresh air for once. She said my mother would have wanted it. She told my father that my mother had died to give me freedom. She had not saved me for a life of imprisonment. But I was getting stronger. I was starting to fight my father’s Imperius Curse. There were times I was almost myself again. My father knew. My father quit his job, but I still was allowed to go to the Cup. I went with Winky into the top box. I managed to break from his control in the Box. I stole a wand – but from someone other than Potter. From a man in front of me. I knew if I stole Potter’s wand I would be discovered. We went back to the tent, and then I heard the Death Eaters. They had turned their backs on my master,” Crouch continued in a monotonous voice.

“Then what happened?” Dumbledore urged.

“I was angry. I had the wand. I wanted to attack them for their disloyalty. My father was cleaning up their mess in killing the muggles. Winky was afraid of me. She bound me to her. She pulled me from the Death eaters. I wanted to punish them, but she held me back. I cast the Dark Mark into the sky. Ministry wizards arrived and shot stunning spells everywhere. One of the spells came through the trees and hit us. We were both stunned. My father knew I must be nearby when he discovered Winky. He searched the bushes and found me there. He waited until the other Ministry Members had left. He put me back under the Imperius Curse and took me home. Now it was just Father and I, alone in the house. And then my master came for me,” a grin appeared on Crouch’s face.

“He arrived at our house in the arms of Wormtail. My master had found out I was still alive. He had captured and tortured Bertha Jorkins. She told him about the Triwizard Tournament. She told him Moody was going to teach at Hogwarts. He tortured her until he broke through the Memory Charm my father had placed upon her. She told him I had escaped Azkaban. She told him my father kept me imprisoned to prevent me from seeking my master. And so my master knew I was still his faithful servant – perhaps the most faithful of all. My master conceived a plan, based on the information Bertha had given him. He needed me. He arrived at our house near midnight. My father answered the door,” Crouch smiled wider, “It was very quick. My father was placed under the Imperius Curse by my master. Now my father was the one imprisoned, controlled. My master forced him to remain retired. I was released. I awoke. I was myself again, alive as I hadn’t been in years.”

“And what did Lord Voldemort ask you to do?” Dumbledore demanded.

“He asked me whether I was ready to risk everything for him. I was ready. It was my dream, my greatest ambition, to serve him, to prove myself to him. He told me he needed a faithful servant at Hogwarts. A servant who would guide Harry Potter through the Triwizard Tournament without appearing to do so. A servant who would watch over Harry Potter. Ensure he reached the Triwizard Cup. Turn the Cup into a Portkey, which would take the first person to touch it to my master. But first –“

“You needed Alastor Moody,” Dumbledore finished in a quiet, deadly voice.

“Wormtail and I did it. We had prepared the Polyjuice Potion beforehand. We journeyed to his house. Moody put up a struggle. There was a commotion. We managed to subdue him just in time. Forced him into a compartment of his own magical trunk. Took some of his hair and added it to the potion. I drank it; I became Moody’s double. I took his leg and his eye. I was ready to face Arthur Weasley and Melinda Johnson when they arrived to sort out the Muggles who had heard a disturbance. I made the dustbins move around the yard. I told them I had heard intruders in my yard, who had set off the dustbins. Then I packed up Moody’s clothes and Dark Detectors, put them in the trunk with Moody, and set off for Hogwarts. I kept him alive, under the Imperius Curse. I wanted to be able to question him. To find out about his past, learn his habits, so that I could fool even Dumbledore. I also needed his hair to make the Polyjuice Potion. The other ingredients were easy. I stole boomslang skin from the dungeons. When the Potions master found me in his office, I said I was under orders to search it.”

“And what became of Wormtail after you attacked Moody?” Dumbledore asked.

“Wormtail returned to care for my master, in my father’s house, and to keep watch over my father.”

“But your father escaped,” Dumbledore inferred.

“Yes. After a while he began to fight the Imperius Curse just as I had done. There were periods when he knew what was happening. He made him write and say he was ill. But Wormtail neglected his duty. He was not watchful enough. My father escaped. My master guessed that he was heading for Hogwarts. My father was going to tell Dumbledore everything, to confess. He was going to admit that he had smuggled me from Azkaban. My master sent me word of my father’s escape. He told me to stop him at all costs. So I waited and watched. I used the map I had taken from Harry Potter and Maggie Johnson. The map that had almost ruined everything.”

“The map you showed me,” Dumbledore nodded, “Yes.”

“For a week I waited for my father to arrive at Hogwarts. At last, one evening, the map showed my father entering the grounds. I pulled on my Invisibility Cloak and went down to meet him. He was walking on the edge of the forest. Then Potter and the black Johnson came. I waited. I could not hurt Potter; my master needed him. Potter ran to get Dumbledore. I stunned Johnson. I killed my father.”

“What did you do with the body?” Dumbledore demanded as Winky wailed.

“Carried it into the forest. Covered it with the Invisibility Cloak. I met you all when you got there. I went back to the body. When everyone was gone, I transfigured his body. He became a bone… I buried it, while wearing the Invisibility Cloak.”

“And tonight…” Dumbledore whispered.

“I offered to carry the Triwizard Cup into the maze before dinner. Turned it into a Portkey. My master’s plan worked. He is returned to power and I will be honored him beyond the dreams of wizards.”

Crouch stopped smiling, and his head drooped onto his shoulder as Winky wailed and sobbed.

“Minerva, please stand guard while I take the children upstairs,” Dumbledore instructed.

“Of course,” Professor McGonagall looked nauseous, but she pointed her wand steadily at Barty Crouch.

“Severus, please tell Madam Pomphrey to come down here and bring Alastor Moody into the hospital wing. Then go down into the grounds, find Cornelius Fudge, and bring him up to this office. He will undoubtedly want to question Crouch himself. Tell him I will be in the hospital wing in a half hour’s time if he needs me.” Snape nodded and left the room. Dumbledore turned to all of us.

“I wish to ask Harry questions in my office. You may all come if you wish. Even you, Hermione, Neville.”

We all walked up to Dumbledore’s office; I was still dumbstruck, and Neville’s arm was still around my shoulder. I couldn’t really think anymore. I don’t think any of us could. Elena looked like she was going to throw up. My mother’s hands were shaking. My grandparents looked dumbfounded. My dad looked like he was going to burn everything to the ground in fury. Sirius was right next to Harry, refusing to leave his side. Hermione was holding onto his arm, tears flowing freely from her eyes.

We sat in Dumbledore’s office; I sat on the floor again, holding my face against my knees.

“What happened?” Sirius had transformed back and was staring at everyone; my grandparents shouted in protestation.

“Sirius is on our side, please,” Dumbledore begged, “I would not have asked him here if he was not.”

“We don’t have time for this, Dad,” my Dad grunted.

I was shaking in my spot against the wall, only somewhat looking at the proceedings. Neville was still holding me, but saying nothing; he knew nothing he could say would snap me out of my shock.

“Harry,” Dumbledore murmured soothingly, “I need you to tell me what happened tonight. All of it. I would let you rest, but numbing the pain for a while will make it worse when you finally feel it. You have shown bravery tonight beyond anything I could have expected of you. I ask you to demonstrate your courage one more time. I ask you to tell us what happened.”

Fawkes was singing. I whimpered slightly, and Neville held me tighter. Everything seemed disjointed and disconnected as Harry described everything – Wormtail, the graveyard, the potion, Effi being killed, Voldemort being revived, Death Eaters apparating between the graves, Voldemort making his snake bite Harry for fun, for their entertainment, their duel, his parents coming out of Voldemort’s wand, not being able to grab Effi in time.

Multiple times people made moves to say things, but only once was my brother’s story interrupted, when he described Wormtail piercing his arm with the dagger, Dumbledore stood up and looked at Harry’s arm, everyone in the room shouting in horror except for me.

“He said my blood would make him stronger than if he’d used someone else’s. He said the protection my – my mother left in me – he’d have it too. And he was right – he could touch me without hurting himself, he touched my face.”

Dumbledore briefly looked triumphant, but when he sat down at his desk he looked old and weary again.

Harry continued his story after that, and when he was done, everyone was staring at him in shock.

“Why did the wands connect?” Sirius asked sharply.

“ _Priori incantatem_ ,” Dumbledore muttered.

“The reverse spell effect? Is that why he saw ghosts of everyone You-Know-Who had killed?” Mum asked sharply.

“Exactly,” Dumbledore nodded, “Harry’s wand and Voldemort’s wand share cores. Each of them contains a feather from the tail of the same phoenix. _This_ phoenix, in fact,” Dumbledore pointed at Fawkes perched on Harry’s knee.

“My wand’s feather came from Fawkes?” Harry asked in amazement.

“Yes,” Dumbledore explained, “Ollivander wrote to tell me you had bought the second wand four years ago.”

“So… what happens when two sibling wands meet?” Mum asked.

“They will not work properly against each other,” Dumbledore answered, “If the owners of the wands force them to do battle, a very rare effect will take place. One of the wands will force the other to regurgitate spells it had performed – in reverse. The most recent first… and then those which preceded it. In this case, echoes of those people that Lord Voldemort has killed.”

Mum was crying; my dad’s fists were clenched; Sirius was gripping Harry’s shoulder tightly.

“You have shown bravery beyond anything I could have expected of you tonight, Harry. You have shown bravery equal to those who died fighting Voldemort at the height of his powers. You have shouldered a grown wizard’s burden and found yourself equal to it – and now you have given us all that we have a right to expect. You and your sister will come to the Hospital Wing. I do not want you returning to the dormitory tonight. Your friends may stay as well, if they so wish. A sleeping potion for all, and some peace. If your family would like to stay with you, they may.”

Mum nodded, and we all walked together down to the Hospital Wing. Sirius, as a dog, stuck with us, and as Harry got into bed, settled on the foot of it.

I climbed into bed as well, tears now flowing freely from my eyes. Neville looked torn as he sat next to me, as though he didn’t want to have even that much space between us.

“I will be back to see you as soon as I have met with Fudge, Harry. You should all remain here until I have spoken to the school,” Dumbledore looked at my mum, “If you wish to come, Melinda, I am in full support.”

Mum kissed Harry and me both on the forehead and followed Dumbledore out the door. I was in so much shock that I just wanted to fall asleep. And so, I did so immediately; any nightmares I may have had, I did not remember.

When I woke up, everyone was shouting. I opened my eyes slowly, looking around in confusion. Neville was on his feet, screaming his head off; Hermione looked furious; Harry was sitting up – everyone was awake and arguing. I looked around madly, my heart immediately pounding loudly.

“I do not allow Dementors in the castle, Cornelius, I have told this to you again and again –“

“You got rid of all the evidence!” Neville was shouting.

“It is my decision whether I wish to bring protection with me when interviewing a dangerous –“

“By having the kiss performed on that man, you have eliminated nearly all testimony of the night’s events!” Mum sneered.

“He is no loss! He has been responsible for _several_ deaths, two even this evening! Of children!”

“He cannot give evidence about why he has killed those people, you _buffoon_ ,” my dad roared.

“It’s no mystery – he was mad! He seems to have believed he was doing it all under You-Know-Who’s instructions!”

“Lord Voldemort _was_ giving him instructions, Cornelius,” Dumbledore said, “Those people’s deaths were mere by-products of a plan to restore Voldemort to full strength again. The plan succeeded. Voldemort has been restored to his body.”

I was conscious enough now to see that Fudge looked dumbstruck.

“Preposterous!”

“We heard Barty Crouch confess,” Dumbledore explained the story again.

“You can’t seriously believe this! Crouch may have believed himself to be acting upon You-Know-Who’s orders – but to take the word of a lunatic like that…”

“My son witnessed his rebirth!” Mum hissed.

“You really would trust the word of that boy?” Fudge laughed.

“Certainly we believe Harry!” Dumbledore answered angrily, “I heard Harry and Crouch’s accounts. The two stories make sense and explain everything that has happened since Bertha Jorkins disappeared last summer.”

“You are prepared to believe Lord Voldemort has returned on the word of a lunatic murderer and a boy who… well…”

“You will not tell me that you believe the accounts of that horrible bitch!” My dad roared. Everyone looked at him in shock.

“He’s a Parselmouth, and having funny turns all over the place, and as you have clearly shown me, he was raised in the company of quite a few lunatics,” Fudge roared back.

“Listen to me, Cornelius,” Dumbledore said sternly, “Harry, and his family, are as sane as you or I. That scar upon his forehead has not addled his brains. I believe it hurts him when Lord Voldemort is close by, or feeling particularly murderous.”

Fudge laughed, “You’ll forgive me Dumbledore, but I’ve never heard of a curse scar acting as an alarm bell before…”

“I saw Voldemort come back!” Harry shouted, “I saw the Death Eaters! I Can give you their names! Lucius Malfoy!”

“Malfoy was cleared! A very old family, donations to excellent causes –“ Fudge snapped.

“Macnair!”

“Also cleared! Now working for the Ministry!”

“Avery – Nott – Crabbe – Goyle –“

“You are merely repeating the names of those who were acquitted of being Death Eaters thirteen years ago!” Fudge responded angrily, “You could have found those names in old reports of trials! For heaven’s sake, Dumbledore – the boy was full of some crackpot story at the end of last year, too –his tales are getting taller, and you’re still swallowing them – the boy can talk to snakes, Dumbledore, and you still think he’s trustworthy?”

“I QUIT!”

I stared in shock at my mother. She was breathing heavily, her wand was out, and she was glaring at Fudge.

“I quit. Fudge, you are a crackpot old fool,” Mum hissed, “You have lost your mind more than my daughter or my son. You are more concerned with public opinion than you are with keeping the public safe. Even if Voldemort was not back – it would be more reasonable to investigate these claims, and prepare for war if it came to it! But you are insane. You do not want to destabilize your regime and the fragile peace you have built. So you will sacrifice the lives of many – _many –_ and the safety of all just for that. I know you. I know what you are about to do. You and your followers – Umbridge, the lot of them – you will all desperately cling to this _delusion_ rather than prepare. We will all die – because you will not fight – you will not prepare, and stop Voldemort before he is stronger. And I will not stay on your sinking ship. I will not wait with the band. I quit! I quit, and you will regret this, Cornelius, mark my blood words!” Mum screeched.

Fudge looked at my mum wordlessly.

“You are all mad. Completely mad,” Fudge hissed, “You will be no loss to the Ministry, Melinda – you and your heritage, and your mad family –“

“I am the only person who kept the Ministry afloat the past year!” Mum laughed cruelly, “You will fall under the weight of the crap that only _I_ was keeping up!”

“Voldemort has returned,” Dumbledore snapped sternly, “If you accept this straightaway, Fudge, and take necessary measures, as Melinda says, we may salvage the situation. We must remove Azkaban form the control of the dementors –“

“Are you mad? The dementors are the only reason half of us feel safe in our beds at night!”

“The rest of us sleep less soundly knowing you have put Lord Voldemort’s most dangerous supporters in the care of creatures who will join him the instant he asks him! They will not remain loyal to you, Fudge! Voldemort can offer them much more scope for their powers and their pleasures than you can! With the dementors behind him, and his old supporters returned to him, you will be hard-pressed to stop him regaining the sort of power he had thirteen years ago! The second step you must take – at once – is to send envoys to the giants.”

“You are completely mad!” Fudge roared in outrage.

“Now, before it is too late, or Voldemort will have persuaded them that he alone can give them their rights and freedom.”

“That – end of my career – if people got word –“

“You care more for the office you hold! You place too much importance on the so-called purity of blood! You fail to recognize that it matters not what someone is born, but what they grow up to be! Your dementor has just destroyed the last remaining member of a pure-blood family as old as any – and see what that man chose to make of his life! I tell you now = take the steps I have suggested, and you will be remembered, in office or out, as one of the bravest and greatest Ministers of Magic we have ever known. Fail to act – and history will remember you as the man who stepped aside and allowed Voldemort a second chance to destroy he world we have tried to rebuild!” Dumbledore roared.

“You are insane. Mad,” Fudge hissed, “All of you.”

“If your determination to shut your eyes will carry you as far as this, Cornelius, we have reached a parting of the ways. You must act as you see fit. And I – I shall act as I see fit,” Dumbledore explained calmly.

“Now, see here, Dumbledore. I’ve given you free rein, always. I’ve had a lot of respect for you. I may not have agreed with some of your decisions, but I’ve kept quiet. There aren’t many who’d have let you hire werewolves, or keep Hagrid, or decide what to teach your students without reference to the Ministry. But if you’re going to work against me…” Fudge hissed.

“The only one against whom I intend to work,” Dumbledore explained calmly, “Is Lord Voldemort. If you are against him, then we remain, Cornelius, on the same side.”

“He can’t be back, Dumbledore, he just can’t be…” Fudge whispered. Snape strode up to him, pulling up the sleeve of his robes as he went, showing him his forehead.

“There. There. The Dark Mark. It is not as clear as it was an hour or so ago, when it burned black, but you can still see it. Every Death Eater had the sign burned into him by the Dark Lord. It was a means of distinguishing one another, and his means of summoning us to him. When he touched the Mark of any Death Eater, we were to Disapparate, and Apparate, instantly, at his side. This Mark has been growing clearer all year. Karkaroff’s too. Why do you think Karkaroff fled tonight? We both felt the Mark burn. We both knew he had returned. Karkaroff fears the Dark Lord’s vengeance. He betrayed too many of his fellow Death Eaters to be sure of a welcome back into the fold.”

Fudge snapped back from Snape in shock, looking around at all of us wordlessly for a long moment.

“I don’t know what you and your staff are playing at, Dumbledore, but I have heard enough. I have no more to add. I will be in touch with you tomorrow, Dumbledore, to discuss the running of this school. I must return to the Ministry.” He threw a bag of money on Harry’s beside table, “Your winnings. One thousand Galleons. There should have been a presentation ceremony, but under the circumstances…”

He walked out of the room, slamming the door behind him. Dumbledore turned and looked at us all.

“There is work to be done. Melinda, I assume I can count on you and Nathaniel?” Dumbledore asked.

“Obviously,” Mum answered calmly.

“Good. Go immediately. Contact any and all in the ministry who can be persuaded of the truth immediately. The Weasleys especially; Arthur can help us from the inside. Tell Arthur what has happened and that I will be in contact with him shortly. He will need to be discreet,” Dumbledore urged.

Mum nodded and left in a rush, her robes sweeping behind her.

“Nathaniel,” Dumbledore turned, “Go. Notify your contacts in America – they will need to be on alert. We may need their aid. The Weinsteins, the Eddisons, Maury O’Connell, Wanda Liu – they need to know, now. Contact your government as well; we need as many people on the outside knowing the truth as possible.”

Dad nodded and followed my mum.

“Yona, Victor,” Dumbledore turned to my grandparents, “Can I count on you two to gather your crowds? The researchers in America – the professors of your schools? Having them on our side will aid in our knowledge hat we can use to fight Voldemort.”

“We will help,” Gran nodded, “We will go home immediately and canvas. We are both well respected at home, we have people we can contact.”

“Good,” Dumbledore nodded. Gran and Gramps hugged Elena, Harry, and me, before leaving the Hospital Wing in a rush.

“Minerva, I want to see Hagrid in my office as soon as possible. Also, if she will consent to come, Madame Maxime,” Dumbledore asked. Professor McGonagall left without another word.

“Poppy,” Dumbledore turned to Madam Pomphrey, “Would you be very kind and go down to Professor Moody’s office, where I think you will find a house-elf called Winky in considerable distress? Do what you can for her, and take her back to the kitchens. I think Dobby will look after her for us.”

Madam Pomphrey left too.

Dumbledore looked at all of us; Snape was the only adult left, besides Sirius on Harry’s bed.

“And now, it is time for two of our number to recognize each other for what they are. Sirius… if you could resume your usual form,” Dumbledore asked.

And Sirius arose, looking straight into Snape’s eyes.

“Him!” Snape snarled, “What is he doing here!”

“He is here at my invitation, and has been staying with the Johnsons. I trust you both. It is time for you to lay aside your old differences and trust each other,” Dumbledore ordered, but he was asking for a miracle. The two were looking at each other as if they would strike to kill.

“I will settle, in the short term, for a lack of open hostility. You will shake hands. You are on the same side now. Time is short, and unless the few of us who know the truth stand united, there is no hope for any of us.”

The two very slowly shook hands and let go extremely quickly.

“Now I have work for each of you,” Dumbledore sighed, “Fudge’s attitude, though not unexpected, changes everything. Sirius, set off at once. Alert the old crowd – the whole order – Augusta, Arabella, Remus, Mundungus. Then go back to the Johnson’s, and lie low; I will contact you there.”

Sirius hugged Harry, and then the rest of us for good measure, before transforming into a dog and leaving the room.

“Severus,” Dumbledore now finally turned to Snape, “You know what I must ask you to do. If you are ready, if you are prepared…”

“I am,” Snape nodded.

‘Then good luck,” Dumbledore nodded. Snape left wordlessly.

“I must go. With Karkaroff absent, I must see the Rosenthals myself,” Dumbledore paused, “Sleep, all of you. I will see you all later.”

Hermione, Neville, and Elena all climbed into beds of their own. I looked up the ceiling wordlessly, unable to form coherent thoughts again. I was so overwhelmed, that I didn’t even feel the tears escaping from my eyes and onto my cheeks.

Suddenly, there was a loud slamming noise – Hermione had grabbed something on the windowsill. We all sat up in shock, looking at her curiously.

“Sorry,” Hermione whispered.

I rolled over and stared into the pillow below me; soon enough, I had managed once again to fall asleep.

Everything after that, for me, was a blur. I didn’t leave the hospital wing for days. I was too tired. When I did, I went straight to McGonagall’s office; I had no urge to interact with anyone at all, except for her.

McGonagall looked at me when I entered, stacking papers in her hands.

“Miss Johnson, I’m happy to tell you that you received one hundred and twenty percent on your exam – though I’m sure that’s not why you are here,” she responded shrewdly.

I hadn’t talked in days. When I opened my mouth to speak, it was hard to force air out.

“Maggie, you have been through a traumatic experience. You do not have to say anything to me now,” McGonagall soothed. I sat down and stared at her, swallowing heavily.

“Something… happened to me. Before the tournament. I can’t… I can’t say it,” I whispered. It was true. I couldn’t.

“Alright,” McGonagall stared at me keenly.

“But… because of that… I got upset… and so I went into the forest again. And… and there… I transformed into my form,” I whispered hoarsely.

McGonagall got up and walked around her desk to me immediately.

“I know, because I’ve transformed into the same thing twice since,” I whispered.

“What is it?” McGonagall asked breathlessly. I looked at her, closed my eyes tightly, and transformed. I stood, perched in the chair, looking directly into McGonagall’s eyes, bobbing my head to the side.

“Why,” McGonagall sighed heavily, “Am I not surprised. Your tell is your eyes, just so you know. Your eyes are still green. If you were a real dragon, they would be similar to your scales.”

I nodded and changed back, sitting in the chair again.

“Well,” McGonagall paused, “I can’t say I’m not relieved that you’ve finally done it. This is a real accomplishment, Maggie. A real triumph.”

I nodded, but now tears were coming to my eyes again, and I couldn’t stop them. McGonagall walked over to me and wrapped an arm around my shoulder comfortingly.

“I cannot imagine,” she soothed, “How traumatic it must have been for you in that forest, worried that someone was going to try and kill your brother. Or how traumatic it must have been when he was in the Graveyard. I can only hope that with time, you will be able to come to terms with it.”

I looked at her wordlessly, my body shaking with the force of everything that had happened to me.

“I’m… I’m not the same person,” I whispered.

“No,” McGonagall agreed, “You are not.”

“I’m not… I’m not angry anymore,” I mumbled, “I’m just… I’m resigned.”

“Resigned to what?” McGonagall demanded.

I looked at her piercingly, “I know I am going to die.”

McGonagall frowned, “What makes you say that, Maggie?”

“If I could have been in that Graveyard, instead of him, I would in a heartbeat. If I could have been the Champion instead of him, I would in a heartbeat. I keep getting lucky, and he keeps getting lucky… but Voldemort is back, now. He’s back, and war will begin. I will die, because I have to protect him,” I whispered, “I will die, and I’ve accepted it.”

McGonagall frowned greater, “Self-preservation is not a crime, Maggie.”

I shook my head, “I do not want to live, either.”

McGonagall looked shocked, “Are you suicidal?”

“No,” I whispered, “I wouldn’t… I’m not going to… no. I just… I don’t like living anymore, either. All these things… that have happened to me… and the people I care about…” I choked up, “I don’t want to witness them anymore. I will, because I can’t abandon him, but… The idea that I will die helping my brother doesn’t upset me anymore.”

McGonagall sighed heavily, “Please, Maggie, write to me this summer. As much as you can. You need professional help, but with the Ministry the way it is… you would be thrown directly into St. Mungo’s if word got out.”

I shrugged. Maybe that’s where I belonged. Maybe they were all right. Maybe I was off my rocker.

“You are not crazy, Maggie,” McGonagall urged, “You are one of the brightest young people I have ever met. You are passionate, and fierce, and you remind me of me so much that I’ve already written a note on record that when I retire, you are to replace me.”

I swallowed heavily, “Thank you.”

“No need to thank me, you have earned it. Which means next year, we will continue studying together. I want you to pursue your curiosities on avian evolution. We can even look into dragon evolution if you wish,” McGonagall paused, “Independent study. And while we do that, you will also tell me about your problems. You understand?”

I nodded wordlessly.

“Good. If you don’t get an O on your Transfiguration O.W.L., I will eat my hat. Now go to your friends; I’m sure they are worried about you,” McGonagall urged.

I still didn’t talk much the rest of term, though I did stick around with my friends; Hermione and Harry spent most of their time playing wizard’s chess, while Neville and I would watch wordlessly. Occasionally, Neville would also play. I never did. I didn’t have the wherewithal for it.

Everyone treated Harry like a pariah, which in another age would have infuriated me – but now I was just happy that I had the energy to even notice they were doing so.

 Hagrid, as it turned out, had made up with Madame Maxime – and the two of them had been given a job to do over the summer to help fight Voldemort. While I was worried for him, I knew he could do it – and so did he.

The day before the return home, I went out into the forest again, when no one was watching for me. I had managed to pass all my exams – even charms, by some sort of miracle. I had to go and talk to Herin once more before I left. I went into the woods, transformed, and peered for her in the forest.

With my dragon vision, her iridescent scales weren’t hard to find – I quickly took off and reached her, sitting in front of her calmly.

“Talk,” she greeted simply, and I told her everything that had happened since I had left. When I finished, she peered at me for a long time.

“You have a lot of work to do,” Herin finally stated, “You are the bridge between my world, and the human world.”

“I do not have the energy to do work,” I muttered.

“You will find the energy. You are human, you have complex emotions that compromise you in this way – but you are a dragon. You will find your strength again. Fire – not even fire such as this – cannot kill a dragon,” Herin reassured.

I looked at her steadily, “What do I have to do?”

Herin took a deep breath, “America is a different place than this.”

“Yes, I’ve been,” I rolled my eyes.

“There, they know, in the tradition of the natives, that dragons cannot be tamed; only befriended, if one is careful,” Herin paused, “They have many humans who work together with dragons – they form their police and army.”

“Alright,” I paused for a long time, “What does this have to do with me?”

“You must convince your white-bearded man to do the same here,” Herin urged, “You must convince him to befriend the dragons. We have as much to lose from the rise of the evil man as you do. We must unite to defeat him. This is important.”

“Alright,” I whispered, “Alright. I’ll do it. Just… I’m going home to America this summer. I don’t… I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

“I will begin migration,” Herin paused, “Say we have a liaison. You learn about their dragon human bond while you are there. Collect enough info to convince the white-bearded man. When you come back to school, I will also be back. The dragons will be ready to fight, if the white-bearded man is ready to listen.”

“Okay,” I agreed.

“First, take the time you need to tend to your wounds. You are strong. You need to rest up, recover your strength,” Herin paused, “You have been through much.”

“Understatement of the century,” I muttered.

“And when you get back… bring your friends if you wish. I would like to meet these humans that dared befriend a dragon,” Herin grinned, bearing her teeth. I laughed, my first laugh since the task; smoke billowed up into the treetops.

“Come; dragons do not talk this much. We fly,” Herin urged. The two of us went through the forest – she walking, me flying to keep up – and we reached the clearing I had been in before, next to the mountains. I could tell that no one would be able to see us here. We both took off, flying together through the mountains, roaring at the tops of our lungs – it was exhilarating, and as we climbed to the top of a mountain and stood looking out over everything, I felt like I could stay a dragon forever, if it weren’t for the people I cared about.

That night, the end of the year Feast did not include house colors – but black, to mourn the passing of Zoe and Effi. Dumbledore explained that they had been killed by Lord Voldemort, and Lord Voldemort alone – Angelina Johnson, bandaged up and looking distraught, was not even mentioned in the death of Zoe. People muttered about Voldemort’s return, but no one dared argue with Dumbledore – not at the feast.

And so, I found myself in the Hogwarts Express, curled up next to the window, my head resting on my folded arms. Elena and Claire were there too, and they were talking quietly with Harry. Hermione and Neville filled out the rest of our compartment, discussing Voldemort and the war. Fred occasionally came by to say hello to Hermione, but he never stayed long, as George would call him back, decidedly not meeting my gaze. It was hotter than ever, and I was extremely glad that my eventual destination was back north – at least, until I was in Chicago again.

“Nothing about everything that happened in the _Daily Prophet_ ,” Hermione sighed scathingly, “Just a small piece on the tournament saying you won. Nothing about Zoe or Effi.”

“He’ll never keep Rita quiet, not on a story like this,” Harry responded humorlessly.

“Oh, Rita hasn’t written anything at all since the third task. As a matter of fact, Rita Skeeter isn’t going to be writing anything at all for a while. Not unless she wants me to spill the beans on _her_ ,” Hermione grinned evil.

“What are you on about?” Neville asked in surprise.

“Oh, I just found out how she was listening in on private conversations when she wasn’t supposed to be coming onto the grounds,” Hermione practically strained.

“How?” Harry asked immediately.

“It was you lot who gave me the idea,” Hermione beamed, “ _Bugging_. See – electronic bugs don’t work at Hogwarts. But Rita Skeeter is an unregistered animagus. She can turn,” Hermione went and pulled a jar out of her bag, “Into a beetle.”

“You are _joking_ ,” Elena groaned.

“She’s not – in there – is she?” Claire gasped.

“Oh decidedly,” Hermione showed us all the jar. Inside were leaves and twigs and one large, fat beetle.

“I caught her on the windowsill of the hospital wing. Look very closely, and you’ll notice the markings around her antennae are exactly like those foul glasses she wears.”

“A beetle – could have been on the ledge of the Divination tower – or in a bush near us when we talked on the grounds – buzzing anywhere in the castle, too,” Harry gasped.

“Exactly. Listening to our private conversations all year, talking to the Slytherins in secret, who were all in on it, of course,” Hermione agreed.

“Hermione, you are the most brilliant person in the world,” Neville praised.

“I’ve told her I’ll let her out when we get back to London. I’ve put an Unbreakable Charm on the jar, you see, so she can’t transform. And I’ve told her she’s to keep her quill to herself for a whole year. See if she can’t break the habit about writing horrible lies about people.” Hermione smiled serenely, looking quite proud of herself.

“Good job, ’Mione,” Harry grinned again.

“Now if only I could help Fred,” Hermione frowned.

“Help Fred?” Neville asked.

“He and… his twin,” Hermione frowned at me apologetically, “Have been working on making a joke shop. But they don’t have the funds to get it started. It’s a real shame… we could all use a laugh.”

Harry stood up suddenly, “One second.” He left the compartment, and I rested my head against the seat, staring out into nothing.

He came back soon enough, sitting again with us, looking innocent as though he had not done anything odd.

“What was that, Harry?” Neville asked.

“Oh – well – I just gave my Triwizard winnings to Fred,” Harry paused, “I don’t need it, and I want to help the joke shop.”

I didn’t like the idea that George had gotten all that money from Harry; but seeing as I could barely talk at the moment, I wasn’t about to say so, or say why.

“Good idea!” Hermione beamed.

“Course, it was yours, wasn’t it?” Harry laughed.

Hermione flushed madly and looked out the window. I knew she was still in love with Harry, regardless of what was happening with Fred.

We eventually reached King’s Cross, where my parents and Sirius were waiting for us (Sirius, of course, was still a dog.) I hugged all my friends, managing to say goodbye.

Still, as I walked towards them, I knew that no matter what happened next, I would never be the same.

END OF BOOK FOUR

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WE DID IT! WE FINISHED BOOK FOUR! BREAK OPEN THE WINE! WE DID IT! I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR BOOK FIVE SINCE I STARTED THIS STORY! BOOK FIVE IS WHEN EVERYTHING HAPPENS! WOOO! But seriously, guys, sorry for all the basic transcription of the book in this chapter. I didn't see a way around it, but I can promise that this is the last chapter in which that happens. Will lines come from the book? Sure, but never, ever, EVER, to this extent again. Thank you for reading, and please leave me a comment! Thank you!


	45. Chapter Forty - Four: July 17 - July 21, 1995, Chicago

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Get back, get down 
> 
> Pull me closer if you think you can hang 
> 
> Hands up, hands tied 
> 
> Don't go screaming if I blow you with a bang 
> 
> Live fast, die young 
> 
> Bad girls do it well 
> 
> Live fast, die young 
> 
> Bad girls do it well." 
> 
> ~ M. I. A., "Bad Girls"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: Discussion of sex, sexual arousal and sexual activity. Sometimes graphic. Also, descriptions of drug use. Present throughout the chapter. Descriptions of mental illness as well, including flashbacks and intrusive memories and thoughts.

Chapter 44: July 17th – July 21st, 1995, Chicago

I woke up screaming again. This wasn’t new, but still, it jarred me every time. I looked up at the ceiling of my grandparents’ house, took a deep breath, and swung my legs over the side of my bunk bed.

I climbed down slowly; I knew I had woken up Harry and Elena with my screams; still, I didn’t want them to be too disturbed. I went and pulled on my long, thigh-high black leather boots, my black shorts, my red tank top, my black leather jacket, and my fingerless, fishnet gloves. I thought about putting on fishnet stockings for a minute before shaking my head. It was a little too hot outside for that. I combed my hair, brushing aside my bangs in annoyance, before putting on black lipstick and heavy eyeliner. Staring at my appearance in the mirror, I nodded in satisfaction. I then went over to the window, hoisted myself out of it, and landed deftly on the street below.

It was the middle of the night, in the middle of one of the most dangerous neighborhoods in Chicago; I wasn’t stupid. A pair of knives I had bought when I reached the city was sitting on my hips, ready to be drawn whenever. My wand was also ready for action, though I knew that was actually asking for more trouble than the knives. I smirked to myself, coughed in the polluted air, and took off running.

The boots weren’t exactly made for running, but I didn’t have far to go. I walked up to the door, and the large Latino man standing in front of it, smoking a cigarette. He had long curly black hair, stubble around his face, and was about as rotund as a baby killer whale.

Still, I grinned at him, walking up to him with a spring in my step.

“How’s it hangin’, Hugo?” I asked, walking up to him and giving him a high-five.

“Same as ever, Maggie, same as ever,” Hugo laughed, “You here tonight?”

“Is this a trick question? I’m here every night,” I snorted.

“Course it is. I got a new stash; my break’s at three. Can I count on you coming out?” Hugo asked.

“When do I pass up the opportunity?” I grinned.

“When you have a fine piece of ass,” Hugo snorted.

“Well there’s that. Still, I’ll try to be out here if I can. Can’t have you having the party all by yourself,” I laughed.

“You are a true charity worker,” Hugo laughed, “Never mind I’m giving you the stuff for free.”

“Yeah, but you get the pleasure of my company, and that’s the best gift of all,” I wiggled my eyebrows.

“Wear lower cut tops and you might have a point,” Hugo sniggered. I hit him, hard, in the arm; he winced.

“Right, right, sorry! Seriously though, I don’t mind. Helps keep me a little cleaner. At any rate, go on in. I think the owner’s here tonight,” Hugo explained.

“Huh. Only heard tell of the guy,” I frowned.

“Yeah well he _loves_ you. Says you’ve brought in more business than him in the past two weeks than he’s had the whole year. Best to go in quickly,” Hugo nodded. I nodded back and headed into the door, revealing a very loud, very dark, very sketchy club. There were dozens of people dancing on the floor; hot and sweaty, grinding up against each other, practically having sex. I surveyed the crowd carefully, before walking up to the bar and sitting at it, nodding at the bartender.

The woman, named Shae, was so gorgeous she made me wet all over. She had long, black hair, slightly tanned skin, and beautiful brown eyes. Her breasts were huge, but I guess that was part of the territory as a female bartender; her heritage was from Thailand, but I only knew that cause she would talk about it on a constant basis.

“Ah, the prodigal daughter returns,” Shae greeted, handing me a glass of blueberry flavored vodka.

“Aren’t you going to card me?” I asked, grinning cheekily. Shae rolled her eyes.

“Right. Because we card here,” Shae snorted, “Good one.”

I began sipping gleefully, looking out over the crowd again.

“Who have you got for me tonight, Shae?” I asked, setting down my drink and looking at her in amusement.

“At least three chicks who have heard of you from Betty, two guys who look like they could be spread deliciously on a cracker; and Gina,” Shae introduced.

“Gina!” I gasped, “Where is she?”

“Probably on the floor. Was wondering where you were,” Shae rolled her eyes.

“Oh I should not keep her waiting. But drink first,” I sighed, sipping on it eagerly. I looked up at Shae saucily.

“When are you going to let me make sweet, sweet love to your fine ass, eh?” I asked. Shae swatted at my hand with her towel.

“Never, since you’re a minor. Yeesh. Why do you think all the men in this place keep away from you? I’m defending your honor. Your… friends… are all under eighteen, same as you, and it’s going to stay that way,” Shae snorted.

“Just so you know, you frequent many of my dirtiest dreams,” I sighed.

“Yeah, well, that’s where I’ll stay,” Shae rolled her eyes, “Idiot.”

“Thank you for defending my honor, though,” I paused, “How do you do it?”

“Usually through the power of ‘I will call the cops if I see you anywhere near her,’” Shae snorted, “And revealing the fact that I carry. Usually does the trick.”

“Well, thanks,” I had finished my drink and looked out over the dance floor, “Where did you say she was?”

“Somewhere in that mess, but you gotta talk to the owner before you do anything else,” Shae shook her head, “Man wants to meet you.”

“Oh? Where’s he, then?”

“Somewhere – here, I’ll get him,” Shae left the bar, “Watch it for me.” She walked into the heaving mass of bodies and I watched the bar carefully, putting my feet up on another stool and looking intensely at anyone who got close.

Eventually, Shae reemerged, a large man walking with her. He was pale in complexion, with brown eyes and dark brown hair. He walked over to me holding out his hand for me to shake; I did so, looking at him and trying to not smirk.

“Good to meet you at last, Miss Johnson!” the man laughed. He had a deep, gruff voice.

“Good to meet you too, er…”

“Cauldwell, James Cauldwell,” the man beamed, “Let me just say, you have saved my little establishment! I am honored to meet you, honored!”

“I highly doubt that I have saved single-handedly…”

“Ah but you have! Your little activities have prompted more people to come here and to buy more drinks!” Cauldwell laughed, “Sales are through the roof! I practically have enough to open a second location. If you hadn’t come around, I would have had to give in to one of the gangs offering to buy the place! You saved my bacon.”

“Well, I didn’t really do it for anyone other than myself,” I shrugged.

“Yes, and that’s the best part! I can’t be accused of being a pimp!” Cauldwell laughed harder, “It’s brilliant! I can’t believe no one’s ever thought of it.”

I was beginning to feel uncomfortable. The guy smelled like smoke and oil. He looked like if I was older, he wouldn’t hesitate to come after me. I shifted somewhat in my seat, nervously looking around.

“Well, Cauldwell, it was good to see you, but Maggie here should do what she does best,” Shae instructed calmly. Her eyes flashed with anger – she looked like she could kill with that stare. Apparently, Cauldwell thought the same.

“Alright, alright. Have fun,” he raised his hands into air and walked back through the club. I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding, but my fingers were beginning to itch. I needed something, right then, right there.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Shae grabbed my hand as I made a move to go away from the bar, “You okay?”

“Yeah,” I answered, but I didn’t really feel convinced by my words, “I’m going to go out and see Hugo.”

Shae sighed, “Do you really have to?”

“I do,” I nodded, “I’ll be back soon.” I got out and walked outside, over to Hugo, who was waiting for me.

“It’s not three yet!” Hugo laughed, “Why are you out here?”

I shrugged, “It was getting stuffy in there.”

“Ah,” Hugo nodded, “Yeah, I know the feeling. Well, you know my standard rate… do you have any cash?”

I swallowed and dug in my pockets. I didn’t have much; I groaned and leaned against the wall. I looked at him desperately.

“You know I only give it for free because I can’t stand to do it by myself,” Hugo shook his head, “I really can’t be giving you product for free.”

I groaned in annoyance, “Hugo…”

He shook his head, “Come back at three. That’s the rule.”

I nodded and walked back into the club, now surveying the scene. If I couldn’t have that, I would have what I wanted. I looked around and bobbed between all the bodies, examining everyone, tapping them on the shoulder. Most of the people there were older – above eighteen and under twenty-one, looking for alcohol they could get without being carded. If anything was going to shut the place down it was that, not Cauldwell going broke; still, I wasn’t going to complain. I wanted the same thing the rest of them did.

I continued looking, and finally I found Gina. I tapped her on the shoulder and she turned around. She was seventeen, dressed in a revealing yellow dress and high heels, which made her somewhat taller than me with them on. Without we were the same height. She had extremely pale skin, with her black hair straightened meticulously, and she had piercing dark brown eyes. She was so gorgeous that the first time I met her I felt a little weak in the knees. She beamed at me happily and I pulled her in for a long, passionate kiss. Gina laughed, pulling back from me and beaming.

“You know, you seem to like me so much, I begin to wonder why you need any of the others,” Gina laughed.

“Yeah, well, life is short and people are hot and I am going back to Scotland in a month,” I shook my head, “You know that.”

“Yeah,” Gina sighed, “Gotta have fun while you’re on vacation.”

I pulled her closer to me, pressing her body against mine, “Doesn’t mean I don’t care about you though.”

“If you really cared about me, you’d stay,” Gina laughed. I rolled my eyes and kissed her again.

It wasn’t a total lie. I did like her. If she lived in the same place as me – or came from the same _world_  - maybe I would have considered it. But I was a grenade. I couldn’t really let anyone in close to me. It got people hurt.

“Are you –“ I looked at her, wiggling my eyebrows. She laughed and grabbed my hand, leading me into the girl’s bathroom. Really, it was _my_ bathroom at this point. I pushed her against the sink and began kissing her, and the rest is a little too vulgar for accurate description. She had to go afterwards, however, and I left the bathroom and returned to the bar, looking at my watch.

_Two am. Now what am I going to do?_

I looked at Shae who pointed to a teenage boy dancing in the crowd near the bar. I examined him carefully – he had dark skin, curly black hair, and was extremely tall and muscular for a teenager.

“You sure he’s underage?” I asked in surprise.

“Yeah, he asked about you and I carded him. Got real scared, thought I was going to get rid of him for drinking,” Shae snorted, “As if. No, just checking his age. He’s sixteen. They make them like that out here, not really a surprise.”

I nodded, and headed towards him, tapping him on the shoulder. He looked at me and smirked.

“So are you the famous Scottish chick?” he asked.

“Yup. What’s your name, handsome?” I asked in my most sultry voice, batting my eyelashes at him. I was good at pretending to be one of those girls. It came almost naturally.

“Joshua,” Joshua smiled, “So how does this work?”

“I’d appreciate a drink, but as long as you’re safe, you get the full Maggie Johnson experience,” I snorted. Joshua grinned.

“I can spend some money on a drink for a pretty girl,” he walked over with me and bought me another blueberry vodka. I drank it happily, now starting to feel a little tipsy, and made awkward chit-chat. He talked about his love of poetry, which I believed, since he began reciting some that actually sounded relatively decent; I lied and made up details about my life, as always (I was a student in Scotland and I didn’t really have any friends.) And then, as what usually happened with the people – except Gina, the one who I would have seconds with, as it were – we went to my bathroom, and I showed him a good time.

Now it was three am. I happily skipped outside to Hugo, looking at him eagerly. Another bouncer came out and high fived him – I didn’t know this one as well and I didn’t care to. Hugo waved me over and we walked together to the back of the alleyway, and he held out a needle to me.

“Cheers,” I grinned, and I injected the needle into my arm. Almost immediately, all of my terrible feelings in my stomach finally went away. I sighed happily, resting my head against the wall. It was my favorite part of the day.

“Why is a good person like you doing smack?” Hugo asked in amazement as he took another needle (he was very big on being clean, which I appreciated,) and put the amazing substance up his arm too. The world around me felt surreal; like I was in a deep, sleepy dream.

“You ask me this every day and my answer is always going to be the same, Hugo,” I snorted, closing my eyes. I could almost feel like there was nothing terrible happening in the world at all.

“Yeah. You hate your life. Still, doesn’t fully explain it, does it?” Hugo shook his head. I took a deep breath – I felt like I could sleep. In fact, I _knew_ that I could sleep. It was time to go.

“I better go home. See ya later,” I waved at Hugo and walked back through the streets, up to my grandparents’ house. I snuck in the front door and crept up the stairs to the room. I still felt as though I was inside of a dream, but I managed to get to my bunk without making too much sound. I got back into my pajamas sluggishly, wiped off the makeup from my face, and climbed back up to my bed. The moment my head hit the pillow, I was fast asleep – and when I slept, the nightmares were gone.

I woke up the next day around noon; I never woke up any earlier. I groaned, throwing my pillow over my eyes – three in the morning was ages away, and I had no way to stay in that wonderful world where Voldemort wasn’t back and everyone I knew was safe. Still, I got down from my bed and stumbled back downstairs.

The family was doing their typical activities – Elena was reading a book; Gran was working with Cheepers; Gramps was out at a meeting with other astronomers; My parents were doing who knows what for the war; and Harry was waiting for me at the dining room table.

“Hey,” he greeted. I sat down and grabbed a piece of toast.

“Hey,” I responded.

“Did you fall back asleep?” he asked. His eyes were piercing into mine; it felt like he was trying to read my mind.

“Eventually,” I answered honestly. Harry scoffed.

“Eventually,” he repeated, rolling his eyes. We did this routine every day.

“Could you please just talk to me? Please?” Harry begged. I shrugged.

“You know, I think I went through _more_ than you that night. Don’t see me acting self-destructively,” Harry muttered.

“Yeah, you’re just acting like a complete pill,” I shot back.

“Oh please, you don’t talk to anyone anymore!” Harry snorted, “How am _I_ a bigger pill than _you_?”

“At least I don’t shove my anger in other people’s faces anymore. How many times did you scream at Mum this morning?” I asked shrewdly.

“None, I haven’t yelled at Aunt Melinda _once_ today,” Harry snorted.

“You just yelled at Dad,” I smirked.

“How would you know? You were in a dead sleep,” Harry muttered.

“He yelled at Dad,” Elena called from her chair.

“See? I am not nearly as much of a pill as you,” I snorted.

“Can you blame me? They aren’t telling us anything! At all! About what is happening!” Harry grunted.

“We know. You scream about it every five seconds,” Elena groaned. She put down her book and walked towards us, glaring at both of us slightly. She banged both of her hands on the kitchen table, staring at us intensely.

“Alright. You both need a wake up call. You’re acting like complete wankers,” Elena paused, “Harry. You have every bloody right to be furious. With everything that happened to you at the end of term, and then now being dragged away from the war and unable to participate, and Mum refusing to tell us anything – bloody hell, _I’m_ pissed. But you can’t be taking it out on everyone with a pulse.”

Harry grumbled in annoyance, looking up at the ceiling.

“Maggie. It’s like you’ve gotten a full-frontal lobotomy. I understand that you also had shite happened to you at the end of last year – but I am seriously convinced there is stuff you are not telling us. Now you don’t have to. Lord knows last year when I was going through my pile of steaming crap I didn’t want to tell anyone at all. But you can’t blame the rest of us for worrying about you when you wake up screaming in the middle of the night, run off, and don’t come back until the wee hours of the morning when you sleep for hours like you’re _dead_ ,” Elena snorted.

I rolled my eyes, staring at my fingers.

“Neither of you are going to do anything? Fine! Bloody hell,” Elena growled, “Neither of you are pleasant people to be around right now. I’m going to go read in my room.”

I got up as well, and went outside. I took off running down the street, my legs pumping me as fast as they could as I ran, though I knew what would really help me forget everything that happened. Running was good, but it didn’t really make me forget. It couldn’t stop making me feel numb all over.

I continued running, past a park, past a run down school. I ran through some trees, and braced myself for the memory –

_Harry, dead, in the forest; no one around; screaming –_

I swallowed and closed my eyes tightly, forcing myself to run through the trees and come out the other side. I rested on a fence with my hand, panting horrifically. I wanted to throw up, but I couldn’t really avoid the trees on my route; it was either go through the trees or go through a place with more gang shoot-ups than the rest of the neighborhood put together. I looked up at the hot, sunny sky, blinking into it angrily.

I turned around, knowing I’d have to go back through the trees to go home. If I didn’t, I’d be in trouble. It was already getting pretty late; soon it would be dinner, and my family would wonder where I was. I stared at the trees and swallowed heavily; my hands were shaking uncontrollably and I could barely breathe.

_Come on, Maggie, go._

I looked towards the tree and back towards the nearby El stop, wondering if I should just hop on a train and get the fuck away from everything and everyone that reminded me of the past month.

 _Fire – not even fire such as this – cannot kill a dragon_.

This time the voice in my head was Herin’s. I sighed heavily, knowing that her growling and roaring was correct. I braced myself, and ran back towards the trees.

When I entered the trees, though, I wasn’t just remembering the task – I was there. I shouted in horror as Angelina before me raised her wand and killed Zoe – I was screaming at the top of my lungs – and suddenly I was pulled back into reality. I had fallen onto the sidewalk and skinned my knee. I grunted in pain, curling my knees up to my stomach, shaking madly again.

_Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!_

“Yo, you okay?”

I looked up and saw a guy walking towards me – he was black, short and scrawny, with curly black hair all over his head. He couldn’t have been older than eighteen. I stood up quickly, brushing myself off hurriedly, trying to not cry.

“Y-yeah. Yeah, I’m fine,” I whispered hoarsely.

The guy frowned at me, looking in worry, “You were screaming. Anyone comin’ after you, or -?”

“N-No. No, I’m fine,” I repeated, “Um… just a bad memory. I gotta – I gotta go.” I had to get out of those trees. I sprinted as fast as I could, running until finally I had left the small grove, sprinting out past the school again, through the park, and back on the streets near my grandparents’ house. I ran as fast as I could all the way to the house and went inside, panting against the wall.

“Hey, where did you go?” Harry asked behind me. I jumped up in fright, my heart pounding loudly in my chest as I looked at him. I had trouble looking at him now. All I could think of was fake-him dead in the forest, feeling very much real. For a brief second, it was as though I was there, staring at him again.

“Running,” I answered breathlessly, walking back up the stairs to the room. Elena was reading on her bed and didn’t say a word as I changed and walked back downstairs. I didn’t really know what to do with my time before dinner, so I went out to the fire escape and sat on it.

Perched as I was, I felt like all I had to do was turn into my dragon-self and fly away, and everything would be okay. Still, I rested against the railing on my arms, trying to breathe deeply. The sun was still high in the sky; I felt comforted by the lack of British clouds. Maybe, if I stayed here forever, I wouldn’t have to die.

Dinner came and went without much conversation; Mum and Dad had learned the hard way to not try and talk to Harry and me anymore. Instead, my grandparents made conversation about their research, and Elena talked incessantly about the book she was reading. I poked at my food and didn’t make a sound, hoping that no one would ask me what I planned on doing that evening, or where I went at night, or what I did during the day. Basically, I didn’t want to say a word about my life and what was happening in it.

I went out that night to the park; it was relatively safe, especially when you carried knives. I found a tree and began flinging them at it, practicing as long as possible. The sound of the knives hitting the tree usually scared away any large men who happened to be in the park; the night cover prevented anyone from wanting to mess with me, including cops. I continued to throw the knives deftly at the tree. Thanks to archery, my aim was actually pretty good already; my practice was for form, and minimal scrapes on my hands.

I did this for hours; eventually it was so dark that I knew I had to go back in before someone missed me. Mum and Dad were talking quietly in the kitchen; the moment I approached them they stopped and looked like they were busy. I knew asking them questions wouldn’t actually work; I grabbed a soda and went up to my room to lie on my bed and stare at the ceiling.

 _I wonder what my friends from home are doing now_ , a thought popped into my head. I didn’t like it much. I didn’t want to know what they were doing. I didn’t want to think about anyone at all.

 _Probably worried about you_ , another thought came. This one made me feel worse. I had a pile of unopened letters on my dresser – most from Hermione and Neville; a good number from Fred and Ginny; scatterings from Claire, Sam, Luna; one from Ron; and one from George that I had immediately thrown away. Harry, no matter how angry and confrontational he was, at least was answering their letters.

I also received letters from Professor McGonagall; I actually responded to those, but not in any sort of satisfying way. McGonagall could definitely tell that I wasn’t doing well, and that I wasn’t telling her about any of it.

I sighed as it got later; I knew I would fall asleep soon if I wasn’t careful. I got up and showered, and then went back to my bed, hoping that if I slept, it would be without dreams.

Of course, I wasn’t that lucky. I woke up around midnight again, screaming my head off. My nightmare tonight had been about George. I really didn’t appreciate that at all. It must have been because I thought about his letter again. I groaned and got out of bed, getting dressed again, and hopping out of the window.

This was my summer routine; this was my life. And I wasn’t about to change any of it.

A few days later, I sat at the bar, scanning the crowd again. The next morning I had scheduled myself an appointment with a doctor to make sure I hadn’t caught anything in my crazy escapades. I was nervous, but I knew it had to be done; typically, I was in control in the situations in question, and I never participated in anything without protection. Still, it was always scary to go to a doctor of any sort.

I was staring pensively at my drink, twirling the straw absent-mindedly. It occurred to me that I also should probably be seeing a therapist; which, somehow, was scarier.

“Alright chicklet,” I looked up to see Shae looking at me intensely.

“Look. I’ve been waiting the whole time you’ve been here for you to spill,” Shae paused, “Usually that’s what people do with bartenders. Tell their story. Spill your guts and all the rest. I’ve been waiting on bated breath the whole time you’ve been here. It’s astounding how little I actually know about you.”

“Yeah?” I muttered in annoyance.

“So spill,” Shae rolled her eyes, “How the hell did you end up here?”

I snorted, “I don’t really tell anyone my story.”

“Yeah, and I bet that’s why you are headed on a path of self-annihilation,” Shae leaned on her elbows and stared at me, “It’s a slow night.”

I looked at her for a long time. I would be gone soon. What was the problem with telling some girl all my secrets? Without giving away magic, there was nothing wrong with it. I took a long, deep breath.

“Where I’m from in Scotland, there are… well, it’s a pretty bad neighborhood,” I made the cover-lie up quickly, “We have pretty bad gang violence.”

“In Scotland?” Shae asked skeptically.

“You’d be surprised. My town is small, but corrupt. Our police are shite,” I shook my head, “They don’t actually enforce anything. Instead they try to keep everything quiet. Try to make it seem like nothing is wrong.”

“I know that feeling,” Shae snorted, “’We don’t have a race problem in America,’ it’s complete bullshit.”

“Exactly,” I paused, “So there are two gangs in the town. The guys who are terrible – they wreak havoc, murder people, force people to do things for them, the whole nine – and then the good guys, who actually try to take down the bad gang, and actually enforce the law, to an extent. Yeah, they’ll break it on occasion, but only to keep the peace, and save people.”

“Vigilante justice? I dig, though I’m still surprised this is all happening in _Scotland_ ,” Shae smirked.

“Don’t judge the highlands by their cover. Anyway, my friends and family – we’re all part of the good gang. And there’s been some pretty bad stuff going on the past few years. See, the head of the bad gang – their leader – he got thrown in jail. But he’s been trying to sneak out. So since I was twelve, every year there’s been a plot to escape prison, and I’ve helped in fighting that – my brother’s done most of the work, but still I was there,” I frowned.

“Why would a twelve year old be in charge of stopping a prison break?” Shae snorted.

“Because the school and the prison are close to each other – whenever the boss escaped, he would attack school,” I shrugged, “And my brother and I both have saving-people complexes. Our friends – this girl and this other person – they help us too.”

“Alright,” Shae nodded, “Dunno why you’d put a prison near a school.”

“Well, a lot of the bad gang members are members of the government. So pretty much every facet about our town is corrupt,” I grimaced.

“That blows,” Shae sighed.

“Anyway, last year was kind of a mess. There was a lot of violence, and this big football – I guess you call it soccer – tournament in our town. Hug deal. I was dating this guy… well the day before the tournament… he…” I choked on my words. I couldn’t get them out. This was the first completely accurate statement that was going to come out of my mouth, and I was choking on it.

Shae looked at me kindly, reaching across the bar to pat me on the hand.

“He… he…” Tears were coming out of my eyes now, and I couldn’t even think straight, I was too overwhelmed with everything swirling around in my brain. By merely thinking of it, suddenly I was flashing between there and here in my brain – I screamed in shock, and fell to the floor.

“Jesus!” Shae shouted behind the bar. She ran over to me and helped me back up, urging me into my seat.

“Do you have, like, PTSD or something? Jesus!” Shae hissed. I shook against the bar ledge, shrugging.

“Alright, I get it. He raped you,” Shae hissed very quietly. I nodded, looking at her through thick tears.

“Alright, you don’t have to talk about that part anymore, it’s okay,” Shae soothed, “I assume you and he are done?”

“Yeah,” I hiccupped, “I don’t think he knows what he did.”

“ _Bastard_ ,” Shae whispered.

“At any rate… then the tournament happened… and the guy broke out of jail. There was a huge fight. I was involved… there was so much violence… two people died,” I whispered softly.

Shae frowned at me, “And so then you came here?”

“Yeah… just for a little while. The good guys, the _adults_ , they have to regroup,” I muttered, “So for now, since my brother and I are huge targets, we’re laying low here. We’ll go back soon, though. We have school.”

“That’s completely terrible, and I’m sorry,” Shae soothed, “I can see why that would make you turn to… well, partying.”

“Yeah,” I whispered.

“I’m just wondering… if you don’t mind…” Shae frowned, “And if you do, you really don’t have to explain… why all the sex? If what you say happened to you –“

“I figure, if I’m going to have to do that kind of stuff whether I like it or not, I might as well have control,” I explained hurriedly. I had this thought run through my head so many times since the incident that I had it memorized, “You can ask anyone. I am completely in control in that room. No one does anything to me that I haven’t expressly requested.”

“You do realize that you don’t have to do any of it at all,” Shae shook her head, “You have complete control. You can have as much or as little sex as you want.”

“Well, it’s not like I’m not enjoying myself,” I shrugged.

“It’s not about enjoying yourself… by doing this you’re basically telling your ex that he won,” Shae muttered. I snarled at her, and she jumped back in surprise.

“He has not won,” I hissed. For the briefest of seconds, I almost felt as though I were my old self again.

“Alright, alright. _Any_ action differently on your part would be a reaction to him… you just shouldn’t feel like you don’t have a choice in your sex life,” Shae shrugged.

“Well, that’s what’s happened, and I prefer it like this. I like having my power back,” I muttered.

“Still,” Shae frowned, “You don’t strike me as the kind of person who is suited to this life.”

I shrugged, “I don’t want to get attached anymore.”

“That guy… you really loved him, didn’t you?” Shae sighed.

“Y-yeah,” I hiccupped, feeling tears come to my eyes.

Shae sighed, “There are good guys out there. There are. And good girls. And good other. You can be with multiple people, one, or none. But you should be happy. I don’t think you’re happy.”

“Of course I’m happy!” I protested.

“Maggie, whenever you come out of that bathroom you have this look – it’s just the saddest thing I’ve ever seen,” Shae shook her head, “You probably enjoy yourself – hell, you probably love the control. But I don’t think you like it as much as you think you do.”

I swallowed heavily. She was right, of course.

“I’m damaged,” I whispered, “No one should have to be with me.”

“Damaged? Because of what that jack-off did to you? You aren’t damaged, you’re fucking _strong_ ,” Shae shook her head in amazement.

“No… because of… whatever is happening in my brain,” I muttered, though I knew a dark part of me in a corner thought that what Shae had said was wrong, anyway.

“Well, I admit maybe entering a long term relationship isn’t the best for you right now, until you get some real help,” Shae paused, “But neither is being self-destructive.”

I shrugged, “It’s a release.”

“Oh I won’t argue with that,” Shae shook her head rapidly, “Not at all.”

 I sighed heavily, looking at my drink again.

“Have you talked to your friends from home about any of this?” Shae asked. I shook my head.

“You really should, you know. I think having someone who understands all the crap from your hometown will help more than some shady bartender who refuses to card kids,” Shae smirked. I rolled my eyes.

“You actually got me to talk, which is new,” I laughed.

“It’s cause you have a huuuuuuuge crush on me,” Shae snorted.

“Can’t argue with that,” I chuckled. I looked at my watch; it was nearly three.

“Better get out there,” Shae nodded, “Fight the nightmares.”

“Thanks,” I muttered, and walked out to Hugo. Once again, the high made me feel safer than ever – all my worries, memories, flashbacks and fear were gone – and I went to bed without a single nightmare.

Still, I was hit with the truth of Shae’s words as I sat at the Doctor’s office the next day. I had managed to make an excuse to my Mum that I just wanted to check up on myself after all the hell I had gone through at the task; she had forged me some health cards and ID so I could get in without many questions. What she didn’t know was that I was at the local sex health clinic, ready to get checked.

I didn’t really necessarily like that I had to get checked. What if I was sick? Then I really _would_ be damaged goods, or at least, that’s how I would inescapably see myself, probably forever.

An errant thought forced itself into my brain again; I forced myself to ignore it, closing my eyes tightly and counting to ten. I didn’t like these thoughts – the thoughts that reminded me back home I had someone I cared about so deeply, and who would die to see me like this.

“Miss Johnson?” A voice rang out. I went back and got tested, waiting terrified for the results. I was shaking from head to toe; I almost wanted to throw up. I looked around at the white walls of the office, my eyes not focusing on any one thing – not the posters about safe sex on the wall, not the diagram of the uterus, not even the diagram of the proper application of a condom in a corner. I held my head in my hands, groaning in pain; my eyes moving around so much was making everything ache. My stomach was churning like crazy and I got up, walked over to the biohazard bucket, and threw up violently.

I pulled back from the buck and took a long, deep breath, leaning heavily against the counter. I swallowed and wiped off my mouth carefully, but I still felt woozy. I quickly scampered back to the chair and sat down, hoping that I wouldn’t faint. I heard footsteps walking towards the room and my heart pounded in my chest; I held tightly to the chair and squeezed my eyes shut as hard as I could.

“Clean bill of health,” the doctor came back into the room and reassured me, showing me the test results, “You seem nervous. I recommend continuing to use protection during every sexual encounter, and please come back for further check ups to make sure your condition doesn’t change.”

I nodded and left, so relieved that I could practically sing. I didn’t like the worry I had felt over this – I didn’t like the panic that had entered my soul.

 _You feel panic all the time_ , I thought shrewdly to myself. I went over to a trashcan and kicked it over in anger. I then swallowed heavily and continued down the street. It wasn’t good to keep doing what I had been doing. I didn’t want to keep going to the doctor and freaking out over whether or not I had caught some sort of terrible disease.

 _It’s amazing_ , I thought sadly, _how I used to have the rage of a thousand suns, and now I barely have the energy to knock over a bin._

That night, I went out to shoot knives in the park again. I didn’t know what I was going to do that evening. I couldn’t go to the club… if I did people would expect me to act like I had been.

 _I don’t want to do that anymore_ , I thought glumly. It was true; I didn’t… I could no longer pretend like it was helping. I had had so much fear in the doctor’s office that it was practically like focusing on my past anyway, with the amount of panic it had caused. The only thing that actually helped me to forget was smack.

 _Too bad that stuff costs money you don’t have_. I let out a long sigh, looking around me in the park and throwing another knife at the tree. I sighed heavily, looking down at the ground, and walked back to the house. I was too tired to deal with this anymore. I was too tired to deal with much of anything anymore. So I ran back through the streets and went back up the stairs of my house to my room, ready to try and sleep early. Maybe if I started early enough, I wouldn’t have any nightmares.

I looked inside and saw Harry sitting there. He was looking at me, as though he had been waiting for me.

“What?” I asked quietly, looking at him in bemusement.

“Maggie, tell me what’s wrong,” Harry begged. I shook my head fiercely.

“No. I can’t.”

“Why the fuck not?”

“Because I can’t burden you!” I screamed. Harry looked at me and strode over to me, holding my arms tightly in his hands.

“You already have burdened me, Maggie! You’re my sister! You can’t not burden me when you’re like this!” Harry shouted, “Maggie, it’s like you’re a ghost!”

I shook my head madly, tears appearing in my eyes as I closed them shut as tightly as I could.

“I can’t deal with anything anymore, Harry,” I whispered, “I think that… what happened that day… it was the last straw. I’m too broken now.”

“Then get some help!” Harry urged, “Talk to someone, like Elena did! You can beat this, you’re the strongest person I know!”

“I can’t beat this,” I shook my head, “Nothing could help me get through this.”

“I don’t believe that. I don’t believe that you could ever be beaten,” Harry shook his head madly, “You’re Maggie. You can defeat anything. You are an inspiration.”

“Well find a new inspiration. Hermione is fantastic. You could use her,” I shrugged, turning away from him and grabbing my pajamas.

“They’re worried about you, too! What are you going to do? Not go home?” Harry demanded.

“I dunno,” I paused, thinking about how I could maybe crash with Shae if it came to that, “Maybe. I don’t think I can deal with home anymore if it’s going to continue to get progressively worse.”

“But Maggie, we have to – you can’t abandon everyone!” Harry gasped.

“No,” I shook my head, looking at him, “ _You_ can’t abandon everyone. But I can.”

“I never knew you could say things like this,” Harry whispered in shock. I looked at him, feeling terrible for hurting him.

“I’m sorry… I just… I’m broken. I can’t do it anymore. It’ll kill me. Eventually the self preservation had to kick in.” My voice broke on every word.

“Maggie please,” Harry begged, “If I don’t have you during all this, I don’t… I don’t know what I’ll do.”

I looked at him sorrowfully, “You can do this without me.”

“No I can’t!”

“Yes you can,” I paused for a long time, “Harry, you are the bravest person I’ve ever met. You handled the Graveyard without me. You can handle all of this without me to. But if I’m with you – if you drag my carcass along with you – I’ll just be weighing you down.”

Harry looked at me, heartbroken and horrified, as I climbed into bed and tried to sleep.

I woke up every few hours again, screaming at the top of my lungs. When I started to feel physically ill at around two, I knew I couldn’t wait any longer. I got up, got out, and went to the club. At the very least, I could get the stuff that would help me sleep.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys all liked this chapter! I know, huge change in personality in Maggie; she has PTSD, and so I wanted to use this chapter both to show how she has changed, and why she has changed. Obviously, she doesn't stay like this forever - would be a pretty lame story if she did! Still, she couldn't remain unchanged by what happened to her. It is exceptionally important to highlight how traumatic experiences in life can affect people's psyches and lead them to self-destructive behavior. 
> 
> The importance of survivors of rape and hearing their stories is, also, an issue I'm passionate about tackling here. I've only briefly touched on it here; it'll be looked at extensively throughout book five. 
> 
> Thank you for reading, and I hope you'll let me know what you think!


	46. Chapter Forty - Five: July 22 - July 29, 1995, Chicago and London

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Nothing ever stops all these thoughts and the pain attached to them 
> 
> Sometimes I wonder why this is happening 
> 
> It's like nothing I can do would distract me when 
> 
> I think of how I shot myself in the back again 
> 
> Cause from the infinite words I could say I 
> 
> Put all the pain you gave to me on display 
> 
> But didn't realize instead of setting it free I 
> 
> Took what I hated and made it a part of me." 
> 
> ~ Linkin Park, "Figure.09".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: Drug Use, Flashbacks, and Intrusive Thoughts

Chapter 45: July 22nd – July 29th, 1995, Chicago and London

The next day, I went out to go throw knives at the tree again. I was tired, and not particularly in the mood to talk to anyone. I would stay out all night if I had to just to avoid other people. Harry hadn’t met my eyes since our argument the day before; I felt terrible, but I knew I was right. He couldn’t have a corpse as a ride-along as he went to save the world.

The thought alone was enough to make my hand shake as I threw the knife; it was drastically off course, sailing into the grass. I groaned and wandered over to it, picking it up from the ground and dusting it off in annoyance.

“Shouldn’t play with knives, girlie,” a voice stated behind me. I turned around in fear, looking to see a large man standing above me. He had pale skin and a large, curly black beard and long, curly black hair. He looked gruff, tough, and muscular, as though he could snap me in half like a twig. I held the knife tightly in my hand, trying to not look as scared as I felt.

“You shouldn’t approach strangers in the park in the night,” I muttered angrily. The man lunged for me; whether he wanted to rob me, rape me, or murder me, I wasn’t going to let him. I leapt over his head and into the tree, climbing onto a branch and looking down at him angrily.

“Ha! You’re a quick one!” the man laughed gruffly. I hissed at him angrily, gripping the knife tightly in my hand. The man reached for my branch and I leapt for the next one, holding tightly to it. I was now safely out of his reach.

“You gotta come down some time!” the man chortled. I glared at him angrily. He was right – this tree wasn’t that strong, and the later it got, the more trouble I was in. I looked around madly; I wanted more than anything to just run away; but I couldn’t really see a way out.

I took a deep breath, stared at the man again, and leapt on top of him.

He was huge, but the force of my impact knocked him to the ground; I pinned my knife into his throat and stared at him angrily.

“One wrong move,” I hissed, “And I slit your throat.”

The man didn’t look so confident now; his eyes reflected heavy fear as he stared into mine. I hissed angrily again.

“Now, can I get up without hurting you, and we both go our separate ways, or am I going to have to emphasize the fact that I am not kidding around?” I growled. The man sneered at me, but nodded. I got off of him, walking away towards the edge of the park.

I knew he wouldn’t keep his promise – I could hear him coming after me. I whirled around and threw the knife at him; it went soaring through the air and lodged into his arm. He screamed in pain and I snorted at him, running up and pulling the knife out of his arm as he fell to the ground.

“What the fuck!” the man shouted. I laughed again. My fingers were twitching angrily at my sides.

“You attacked me. Your mistake,” I snorted. The man tried to stumble up, diving at me again. I knew his sheer size would still cause me trouble.

“Oh you’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” and, before I really could think about it, I transformed. The man screamed at the top of his lungs as I lunged at him; I dove at his throat and bit it, clawing at his back heavily as he screamed exceptionally loudly. Now that I had transformed, I knew I couldn’t let him remember this.

 _Oh fuck, I have to kill him_ , I thought in panic. I fell back from him and hissed, my body low to the ground, my tail extended up high in the air.

“What the fuck!” the man screamed. I roared at him; I didn’t know what else to do.

 _I can’t kill him! I don’t have that in me!_ I thought in terror. But what was I going to do? Get arrested for breaking the International Statute of Secrecy? Run away?

 _You have been thinking about running away_ , I thought in surprise. The man was sputtering, though; I had bit him on the neck rather hard; there was a good chance he was choking on his own blood. I was frozen with fear; I didn’t know what to do now, whether to save him or to finish the job. I was so tempted to just run away, and take the path of least resistance; as I cowered there, staring at this man who probably would have killed me, wondering if I was just as bad as him.

“Hey!” I looked up to see a man running towards us. Now things were just getting worse. I made a move as though to fly off, but the man shouted again, “No, stay!”

I hissed in anger as the man ran up to me, glaring.

“You are an _idiot_ ,” he hissed in irritation, bending over the dying man. He pulled out a wand – now I had both newfound relief and terror ( _what if he was coming to arrest me_ ) as he healed the other man’s wounds with his wand.

“ _Obliterate_!” the wizard shouted; the man looked dazed and confused for a minute.

“ _Stupefy_!” the wizard finished; now the man had passed out on the ground. The man turned back to me, glaring in amazement.

“Well? Transform back!” the wizard ordered. I swallowed and did so, looking at him sheepishly.

“We’ve been waiting for a slip-up like this from you,” the man shook his head, “Come on.”

“Wait, _we_?” I asked in shock, “And you know who I am?”

“Of course we do,” the man snorted, “You’re Maggie Johnson. Also known as Maggie Dragon, though by fewer people. Well, one person.”

“Wait – you know Herin?” I asked in shock, following the man hurriedly.

“Of course I do,” the man scowled, “Well, I know _of_ Herin, at any rate.”

“Who _are_ you?” I demanded, struggling to keep up with the guy as we sped through the streets of Chicago.

“Jethro,” he snapped in response, “Jethro Shaw. At your service.”

We went under some lights and I saw the guy was around my age; he couldn’t have been older than eighteen. I looked at him in shock, my mouth open in amazement. He was mildly tan – he looked Arabic in appearance, with long black hair, a large hooked nose, and piercing brown eyes. He also had a short, curly beard.

“You’re a teenager!” I gasped.

“Yeah, and you’re an idiot,” he rolled his eyes, “We have to get somewhere safe, now.”

“No one else saw me!” I insisted.

“No, but you come from a country at war, and the minute they find out where you and your brother are – the minute the hell comes raining down on all of us. And I like having a house,” Jethro snapped.

“Who _are_ you?” I hissed as we ducked into a large warehouse. Jethro snorted.

“We’re the ones who _you_ were told to look for you, you junkie idiot,” Jethro snarled. I looked at him in annoyance.

“What are you _talking_ about?” I insisted.

“You remember what Herin said,” Jethro shook his head, “Things are different in America. For example, if you use magic as a teenager, you don’t get into trouble. There’s so much magic being used by everyone, I wouldn’t worry about your Ministry being pissy about you being underage. My government is probably already telling them that someone near you used magic, not you.”

“Wait, how can they tell that I used magic?” I hissed.

“The trace? It’s how your government controls its citizens,” Jethro laughed cruelly, “Not like mine doesn’t, but still. Basically, when you’re born, you get this thing called the trace. It’s only removed when you turn seventeen – but until then, whenever magic is done around you, your government knows about it. Now kids in Wizarding families, see, they don’t get into trouble much – it’s always assumed that your parents are doing it. It’s definitely prejudice against muggle-borns.”

My mouth dropped open in shock.

“Yeah, it’s complete bull shit,” Jethro paused, “But anyway, you were out away from your parents, so you could have gotten into trouble – but my government is already on it. I was watching you tonight.”

“You were _watching_ me?” I asked angrily.

“Of course I was. Someone had to be,” Jethro rolled his eyes.

“Who _are_ you?” I demanded again, now getting angry, an emotion I had become unfamiliar with in the past few weeks.

“Oh for the love of fuck – I’m a dragon rider!” Jethro shouted. I looked at him in shock.

“A _what_?”

“Dragon Rider. Remember? Herin told you America was different than the UK. Look, humans and dragons here, we have a damn partnership,” Jethro shook his head, “We don’t fucking tame dragons, we live with them, and we work together to keep our country safe.”

“Oh,” I whispered.

“Yeah. You’ve talked to Herin, you should _know_ all that stuff about dragons being completely monstrous is bull,” Jethro paused, “I’m training to join the Academy. I’m still in school, but I have a dragon partner. His name is Oscuro. We’re basically bounded for life.”

“How do I fit into this? I’m… not a rider,” I frowned.

“No. You’re what we call a Halfling,” Jethro paused, “We have _loads_ of dragon animagi here in America. They make up a small portion of our forces.”

“So that’s your police force? Dragons with humans?” I asked.

“Police and military. I mean right now we’re at peace; we switch mindsets whether or not we’re at war. And Herin has contacts here; she told them you were coming, and we tracked you down to Chicago,” Jethro explained.

“So why are you watching me?” I asked.

“To make sure you don’t fuck up. Halflings change into their dragon selves all the damn time, especially when they’re stressed. Herin also told us what the fuck happened to you a few weeks ago, so we knew you’d be stressed all the fucking time,” Jethro shook his head in amazement, “I’m surprised I haven’t had to clean up your mess before now.”

“So, you watched me, but why didn’t you ever talk to me?” I demanded.

“We were waiting for you to look for us,” Jethro snapped, “Herin explicitly instructed you to seek us out.”

I frowned. She had. I just didn’t want to.

“Look, I get that you’re all screwed up or whatever,” Jethro shook his head, “But Herin is right. Your country is utterly fucked unless you get the humans to work with the dragons. You have a lot of work to do, and you need to know how to do it.”

I sighed heavily, “I was kind of planning on abandoning ship.”

“Yeah, I know, I heard you at that fucking club you always go to,” Jethro shook his head, “Whatever. You don’t fucking get to, understand? You are literally the only Halfling in your whole country. You are the only person who can do this. Without you, dragons in your country go extinct.”

“I can do whatever the fuck I want!” I shouted in response, “You can’t tell me what to do!”

“Oh I can, and I will!” Jethro shouted back.

“Jethro, calm down,” a voice sounded behind him. Out from the shadows of the warehouse came the man who had tried to calm me down when I had been running through the trees the other day.

“You!” I shouted in surprise.

“You really think I’m tailing you twenty-four seven?” Jethro laughed, “I have a life. This is Richard. He’s another one of your tails. There’s also Kira, and Rhetta. They are asleep right now.”

“Sorry I didn’t blow my cover,” Richard paused, “We weren’t supposed to unless necessary. I just had to make sure you were okay.”

“Flashback,” I muttered sadly.

“Richard is also a rider, and so’s Kira, but Rhetta is a Halfling too,” Jethro paused, “Englewood is one of the biggest magical neighborhoods in the country. We had no end of volunteers to tail you.”

“Jethro is getting angry because we’ve been waiting this whole time for you to stop whatever you’ve been doing at the club,” Richard paused, “But we don’t have any more time to wait around. The next incident we were ordered to grab you.”

“I feel extremely affronted right now,” I hissed.

“Yeah, well, take a number. I didn’t want to spend my summer doing this,” Jethro snarled.

“Then why did you volunteer?” Richard laughed.

“I thought she wouldn’t be this much of a dumbass!” Jethro retorted.

“Wow. Okay. I’m going to go now,” I rolled my eyes, moving towards the door.

“You really can’t,” Richard held me back, “Look, I get it, okay? This is a lot to process. But we need to tell you about everything. We need you to understand. You have work to do back home. You can’t escape it.”

“I don’t know how much Herin has told you lot about me, but I don’t take kindly to not having a choice in things,” I growled angrily.

“Oh we know, which is why we waited until the last second to confront you. But this is about something bigger than yourself,” Richard shook his head, “We wouldn’t do this unless we had no other choice.”

“I don’t care! I’m not doing it!” I screamed. I was feeling panicky now; my fingers were twitching at my sides.

“If you don’t do it, every dragon in your country gets killed!” Jethro shouted, “Does that mean nothing to you?”

“Of course it means something to me –“

“Then act like it!” Jethro roared. He sounded like a dragon, too.

I roared in anger and dove at him, my arms reaching for his neck. Jethro moved out of the way, pulling out his wand at me. I screamed furiously, changing into my form again.

“Fuck, Jethro, look what you fucking did, you idiot!” Richard screamed. I roared at both of them and leapt into the air, aiming for Jethro’s throat. He dived out of the way, rolling across the floor. I crouched low angrily, hissing at him loudly.

Suddenly, my tail was being grabbed; I could feel it was between two long, hard objects. I roared in shock and twisted around as I was lifted up from the ground; I was being picked up by a dragon as big as Herin. It looked a lot like me – but most American dragons looked like me, quadrupedal with huge wings and Dromaeosaur – like heads. It was as black as ink, with brilliantly grey eyes, and thousands of horns all over its body.

“Maggie, meet Oscuro,” Richard introduced.

I roared angrily, “ _PUT ME DOWN!_ ”

Oscuro laughed; smoke surrounded me in a giant cloud.

“Seriously, put her down, Oscuro, she’s not a child,” Richard rolled his eyes.

“Yeah she is. She’s a baby dragon,” Jethro snorted.

Oscuro put me down, however. Now I knew why we were in such a large warehouse. I had the wherewithal to transform back, looking at everyone in amazement.

“We grew up together,’ Jethro paused, “Met when I was a kid.”

“Typically one does,” Richard explained, “You get bound together in this ceremony – there’s blood involved, it’s quite complex – and then you grow up together.”

“Do any Halflings have partners?” I asked.

“Not typically. I think it’s happened, like, twice,” Richard shook his head, “I wouldn’t try it. Lines get blurred – people start thinking they can mate with their partner – it’s bad.”

“Alright,” I nodded.

“We have a very elaborate training system and set of rules that are based on the idea that you start as a child,” Jethro explained, looking angry still, “It would be impossible for you to implement immediately.”

“However,” Richard paused, “You can create a decent army if you act fast, it just won’t be as well trained or coordinated.”

“How do I persuade an entire country of people that dragons won’t hurt them as long as they show them respect?” I asked shrewdly.

“That’s where we come in,” Richard looked at Jethro, who sighed heavily.

“You have to start the groundwork. Tell people. Get Dumbledore on your side. Wouldn’t hurt to get all of his team on board too. Get people behind you. Herin is already talking to the dragons. They’re afraid of Voldemort; they’re going to be easy to persuade that it’s worth a shot. The problem is humans, and you have to use Herin,” Jethro paused.

“Herin acting – for lack of a better word, though this word is _terrible_ – tame will help. When you have at least Dumbledore’s people on board, we wills end envoys,” Richard explained.

“Not a lot – we don’t want to attract attention, especially if your government is still opposed to Dumbledore…” Jethro continued.

“Fuck, we won’t send a lot regardless. Your government is highly unlikely to change its mind. But we have to send envoys anyway,” Richard rolled his eyes.

“They will come and explain. If we can spare them, they may even stay. They would be your best bet in fighting Voldemort,” Jethro finished.

“Isn’t it a little much, though? Voldemort only has his Death Eaters,” I frowned.

“Nothing is too much. They attacked dragons last time,” Jethro sneered.

“And _besides_ that,” Richard shot Jethro a look, “Voldemort is trying to round up the giants, and he will probably succeed. Dragons are your only hope there. In addition, he _will_ get the support of the Dementors.”

“And God fucking forbid he ever gets his hands on the research your Gran is doing,” Jethro groaned.

“Wait – Cheepers? He’s a tiny little raptor, he’s not going to help Voldemort,” I frowned.

“Your Gran is perilously close to being able to make things like _Tyrannosaurus rex_ ,” Jethro sighed, “And while that is amazing work – really, revolutionary, it’ll change the world – if she figures it out, and Voldemort finds out, and Voldemort is _just_ enough of a reasonable human despite his deep-seated biases to use it…”

“Fuck!” I shouted.

“Exactly,” Richard sighed, “So we need as many people as possible.”

“What if I can’t do it?” I asked, “Have you guys thought of that?”

“We have,” Richard looked at Jethro.

“Whether or not you have at least _some_ dragons working with you, we’re coming over,” Jethro snapped, “And staying. We’re all fighting against the same enemy; in theory, we can fight alongside you without creating a huge incident. At any rate, we have to; after what happened the last war, we can’t afford to not.”

“And neither can you,” Richard urged, “Please, Maggie, you have to do this.”

I stared at them all in fear, “Look, I don’t think I can even physically go home, okay? The thought _alone_ starts to make me have flashbacks –“

“We understand, but we don’t have much choice ourselves,” Richard sighed, “I tried to talk them out of it when I saw how bad you were the other day –“

“The leaders of the Dragon Riders were very firm,” Jethro grumbled, “We have no choice, and neither do you.”

“Also, if I were you, Maggie – and this isn’t a judgment on the lifestyle – I would stop sleeping around,” Richard paused.

“Oh my fucking god,” I hissed.

“Look, we really wouldn’t care, except you are a Halfling – and this problem affects Halflings and Riders alike, _male_ and _female_ alike – you are extremely, _exceptionally_ , **_mind-blowlingly_** fertile,” Richard shook his head.

“Dragons have, on average, _seven children at a time_ ,” Jethro paused, “I mean it’s usually an even number but sixteen is the upwards end and two is the lower – at any rate, your chance of having multiple babies is now nearly one-hundred percent.”

“And your chance of getting pregnant is also similarly high. If you have sex, you have to protect yourself magically – and I don’t see that fitting in with your current lifestyle,” Richard snorted.

I sighed heavily. This wasn’t exactly surprising to me.

“Dragons have an unfortunate problem of nearly going extinct frequently. They have to have high numbers of children,” Richard explained, “They don’t have the luxury of having fewer.”

“Well, luckily for everyone I was so terrified at the Doctor’s of having an STD I had already decided – _wait_ ,” I paused, my mind whirring. I was beginning to feel almost like my old self again.

“What?” Jethro asked.

“Do you guys – know about dragon evolution?” I asked breathlessly.

“It’s… erm… we know some,” Richard frowned.

“Dragon bones have an unfortunate habit of either being used in magical purposes – including fossil ones – or being mistaken for dinosaurs,” Jethro grimaced.

“Dragons _are_ dinosaurs,” I urged.

“Well, true, but mistaken for non-draconian dinosaurs,” Jethro rolled his eyes.

“Well okay, when I was doing my animagus transformations, I turned into this thing,” and I described, in painstaking detail, _Draco prima_.

“That is freaking fantastic,” Richard breathed.

“The dinosaurian ancestor,” Jethro grinned, “Oh man – if only we could find a _fossil_ of that –“

“At any rate, since then I’ve been trying – and failing, obviously – to complete the at _least_ sixty-six million year long ghost lineage,” I explained.

“Yeah, we have no idea either,” Richard sighed.

“But it’s an area of avid research over here – you’re in good company,” Jethro laughed.

I laughed too; for the most fleeting of moments, I thought I could do what they asked of me –

And then the thought of researching in the library gave me flashbacks.

“ _No! No! NO!_ ” I screamed at the top of my lungs as suddenly I was back _there_ , remembering everything I so desperately wanted to forget. I continued to scream exceptionally loudly until it was over – hoping, maybe, that the sound alone would help me block it out.

It did not.

“Fuck,” Jethro muttered above me.

“She really is bad,” Richard whispered.

“You think,” I muttered in annoyance, sitting up and holding my head in my hands, trying not to cry.

“How the hell are you going to be able to do this without… uh… having a complete mental breakdown?” Jethro asked, “We really are fucked.”

“She’s the only person we have… someone has to communicate with Herin and act as liaison!” Richard groaned, “Otherwise, we arrive unannounced, and unwelcomed!”

I sighed heavily. My hands were shaking. I desperately, desperately, _desperately_ needed a fix.

“There is one way,” I whispered. They looked at me, both helping me back up to my feet.

“What? We will seriously do anything,” Jethro nodded eagerly.

I swallowed heavily, “You called me a junkie earlier.”

“Oh, yeah, uh, sorry,” Jethro grimaced.

“Well, I am,” I shrugged, “I use it to stop _that_ from happening.”

“Oh,” Jethro and Richard looked at each other.

“Not really something we can… notice…” Richard frowned sheepishly.

“We just thought it was part of your whole self-destructive pattern,” Jethro grimaced again.

“Well, I mean, it started that way, but soon I realized when I used it I actually slept through the night, and wouldn’t have flashbacks,” I paused, “It isn’t a long-term solution… I’m not a complete moron. I know that. But… until I figure out one, it works.”

“Therapy?” Jethro suggested.

“I don’t want to worry my mother,” I shook my head, “She already has one fucked-up child.”

“She has two,” Richard frowned.

“I’m not going to therapy, okay?” I shouted angrily, “I’m not!”

“Alright, alright!” Richard held up his hands.

“Look, we can get you some smack for the road, alright?” Jethro groaned, “It’s fine. Whatever. But you have to find another way.”

“I will,” I nodded.

“Until then, we will train you in our ways, teach us everything we know,” Richard paused, “You don’t have to go to that club anymore. We’ll make sure to at least help you sleep.”

“We also don’t want to fucking kill you, so that’s all we’re doing,” Jethro muttered.

“Well, I’ll go back once to say goodbye, but okay,” I sighed.

“Yeah, fine, whatever,” Jethro rolled his eyes, “Get it done tonight.”

“Okay,” I groaned, “Can I go now?”

“Yeah,” Richard sighed, “We _will_ pick you up tomorrow. We will be at your door at approximately two in the afternoon. If you aren’t there, we will knock, and tell your mother.”

“Fine,” I hissed.

“See you tomorrow,” Jethro snorted. I glared at him and left the warehouse, quickly walking back to the house. I managed to crawl into my bed, breathing heavily with shock; everything that had just happened to me was so overwhelming that I couldn’t even think straight.

The threat of the dragons of the UK going extinct, however, was one that made me get out of my bed at midnight. I climbed down and didn’t even bother getting dressed; I hadn’t changed into my pajamas when I got home, and I wasn’t going there to party. I climbed out of the window and ran to the club, hoping to god that no one would be there for my usual activities.

Hugo was outside the door, again. He grinned at me eagerly, but immediately stopped when he saw the expression on my face.

“What’s wrong?” he asked instantly.

 _Now I have to make up a good lie_ , I thought sadly.

“My parents are close to finding out about me coming here,” I lied smoothly, “They’re aware that something’s going on. I have to stop.”

“Oh,” Hugo frowned, “Wow. That sucks.”

“Yeah,” I paused, “But this was always temporary anyway. We knew that.”

“Still,” Hugo sighed, “I’ll miss you.”

I teared up a little; I really had grown to like Hugo, and not just for his stuff.

“I’ll miss you too,” I whispered, “Really.”

Hugo patted me on the shoulder, “Go on it. Tell Shae goodbye. Then get the fuck out of here before you get caught.”

I ran inside and up to the bar; Shae was sitting there, looking at me expectantly.

“What’s wrong?” she asked immediately.

“My parents are catching wind of what I’m up to,” I paused, “If I do it for much longer, they’ll figure it out. I have to stop.”

Shae frowned, “Will you tell them about what that horrible dude did to you?”

“I dunno,” I sighed, “I really don’t know.”

“Alright, well,” Shae sighed, taking a deep breath, “You’ve been a real treasure, Maggie. I’m glad I’ve met you.”

“Thanks,” I murmured, “Thank you for not… taking advantage of how vulnerable I’ve been.”

“That’s the thing, Maggie,” Shae paused, “I have a clear role here. I’m aware of it because when you’re a bartender, you have to set boundaries. I am a therapist; I am a set of ears; I am a mentor. It means that when I’m behind this counter, anyone on the other side – regardless of age – is off-limits. They’re vulnerable to me in ways that they don’t even know themselves.”

“Do you have a degree in psychology or something?” I laughed.

“PhD, actually,” Shae paused, “I flew through school. I’m something of a genius.”

“Alright then,” I frowned, impressed beyond believe.

“Anyway… it means that even if you were eighteen, you were off limits. That’s where your ex went wrong,” Shae scowled heavily, “He was your mentor, right? I think you said that once, in conversation, when you weren’t aware of what you were saying.”

“Yeah,” I sighed.

“He didn’t set boundaries. He had a position of authority over you from the moment you met. He breached that boundary in entering a relationship with you… making him much more open to breaching other boundaries,” Shae paused, “None of which is your fault. At all. We often find ourselves falling for people we look up to. It was _his_ job to not take advantage of that.”

“I can see that,” I muttered, though I still felt a beast of self-loathing writhing in the pit of my stomach.

“At any rate, it has been my pleasure to listen to you,” Shae sighed, walking around the bar and giving me a long, comforting hug. I nodded into it, feeling tears come to my eyes and spill over in droves.

“I hope if you ever come back here, you’ll look me up,” Shae paused, “Until then… good luck.”

“Thank you, Shae,” I murmured, “Good bye.” I then left the club as quickly as possible – in the end, I really didn’t care much for Gina; not enough to linger. I was trying my hardest not to cry as I continued on, walking back towards my house.

On the way, Jethro intercepted me; he looked at me sternly, grabbing me and pulling me from the sidewalk.

“Alright, you did what we asked,” Jethro paused, “So here’s your payment.”

I looked down in my hand; I had the brown powder in a baggy now. I sighed and looked at him.

“We will still be at your stoop tomorrow. Take that, get some sleep. I’m not happy about it, but whatever,” Jethro grunted, before running off into the night.

I sprinted myself back to my house and changed into my pajamas; I sat down on my bed, looking at the little packet for a long time. The moment I did this on my own – the moment I admitted to myself that I wasn’t just having fun with Hugo – was the moment I had reached rock bottom.

I took a long, deep breath, and snorted it. It took a little longer than usual; but soon enough I felt warm and peaceful. I climbed into my bed, and managed to have a full night’s sleep without nightmares once again.

And so, the next afternoon, I willingly went out with the two of them, going to their warehouse.

“So, what the hell do I have to learn, anyway?” I asked shrewdly.

“About your powers,” said a calm voice. I looked up to see two girls – around the same age as Jethro and Richard – walking towards us. The one who had spoke was large, especially around the middle, black, with beautiful dark skin, and short, curly black hair. The other one was also black, but with lighter skin, and her black hair clearly straightened. She was also much more muscular than the other one.

“Rhetta,” the larger one introduced, holding out her hand for me to shake. I did so, nodding at her.

“Kira,” the smaller one also shook my hand, both staring at me critically.

“What powers do I have to speak of, besides those of a dragon?” I asked in annoyance.

“Oh, that’s the point. You don’t have all the powers of a dragon,” Rhetta shook her head, “No, we are pretty limited even as dragons.”

“Limited how?” I asked sharply.

“Well, dragons are immune to most curses – we are not. Sure, our scales make us a _little_ more equipped to handle the _basic_ ones, but things like Unforgivable Curses – yeah, we’re still susceptible. And stunners are going to make us a little dazed,” Rhetta explained.

“That’s a huge bummer,” I muttered.

“In addition, we can’t breathe fire for very long. Our throats aren’t as protected as those of a dragon’s. So we have to use that sparingly,” Rhetta continued.

“Also a huge bummer,” I groaned.

“It’s not that bad. But mostly it’s all about controlling when you go into your form. Halflings are a weird type of animagi. We transform, sometimes, beyond our control – as you already know,” Rhetta explained.

“Ah, and that’s obviously not good,” I sighed.

“No,” Kira snorted.

“You have to learn to control your anger, and your fear – and your stress. When you have those things controlled, you won’t transform unless you want to,” Rhetta paused, “Do you think we can work on this?”

“A year ago, I would have said my anger couldn’t be contained,” I paused, “But I’ve been broken since then.”

“As depressing of a sentence as that was, at least it means we have somewhere to start,” Rhetta groaned, “Now, the trick to _not_ transforming is purely presence of mind – you’re going to have to meditate.”

I groaned loudly.

“Oh, it’s definitely counter-intuitive for a dragon,” Kira snorted, “But you gotta do it.”

“When you feel like you’re going to transform – and soon you’re going to know what that’s like, everyone has a tell – you have to start meditating. Counting is a good first step, but what you really have to do is focus on something that keeps you steady – something constant. Your constant should be consistent – you have to pick something that you _know_ will calm you down immediately. I tend to think of a rushing river, but it varies for everyone,” Rhetta explained.

“Alright,” I looked around at all of them, “So how do I practice this?”

“We get you angry,” Kira grinned cheekily.

“Jethro was our first volunteer,” Richard laughed, clapping Jethro on she shoulder.

“I did _not_ volunteer –“

“What was it you were saying about her yesterday? About her being annoying as fuck?” Richard chortled.

“Oh my god,” Jethro groaned, “Alright, do you realize how batshit crazy it is that we have to get you _fucking heroin_ just so you can not have mental breakdowns every five seconds? Listen, grow the fuck up and go to a fucking therapist, it’s not a weakness that you have mental illness but for the love of fucking god it is that you are turning to such a terrible, horrific drug. I’m appalled that any fucking dragon would sink so low, wow, you really must be a fragile little _bird –_ “

“Birds are not fragile, you dumb fuck!” I screamed.

“Good, keep going,” Rhetta muttered.

“Well _you_ are fragile, and you need to deal with that, or else you are _never_ going to be able to deal with the burdens you have, you are _the_ fucking Halfling of the whole of Great Britain, do you realize how much of a fucking reasonability that is? No, you fucking don’t, because you are the _biggest_ idiot I have ever met –“

“I am not an idiot!” I roared, my fingers twitching angrily at my sides.

“Yes you are, you are a huge idiot, look at all the dumbass stuff you’ve done since you’ve gotten here, I shudder to think of all the crap you got up to at that idiotic school you go to, lord knows that must be why you’re so fucked up, you fucked up because you’re an idiot and then you fucked up yourself as a result –“

I roared at the top of my lungs, transformed, and dived at Jethro. He ran out of the way, hissing at me as I fell to my feet, roaring at him again.

“Alright, Jethro, you don’t ever get to do that again, that was mean,” Kira muttered.

I roared loudly and glared at all of them. I _hated_ them.

“Maggie, good job, now change back,” Rhetta ordered. I snarled at her, bearing my teeth.

“Oh for the love of fuck,” Rhetta groaned, and then transformed herself. She was taller than me, but more elongated – with short arms, standing on two legs only, and was the most brilliantly vibrant shade of fuchsia I had ever seen. Her neck was long and slender, and her tail was similar. Her wings folded neatly against her body as she roared at me. I roared back, and we spent a very long time roaring at each other in the middle of the warehouse.

Eventually, I got tired, and had the mental wherewithal to transform back. Rhetta followed suit, looking at me in amusement.

“See why you need to train now?” Kira asked shrewdly.

“Yeah,” I muttered irritably.

“Good. Then let’s do that again. Kira, you piss her off this time, for the love of god I don’t want to even _hear_ Jethro _speak_ to her again,” Rhetta instructed.

And so I spent the next few days training with Rhetta, learning how to calm myself. I had figured out my tell – it was the twitchy fingers – but I was unable to find a good constant, something I could focus on while I meditated. Instead, I was stuck at the counting stage, which only worked sparingly. It was very frustrating – we worked hard, for hours, every day, well into the night. I would then go home and collapse, snort some stuff, and then go to sleep. At the very least, I was so focused on calming myself down all the time that I barely had any time to think about the past, or have any flashbacks.

Still, it was almost like trying to find my animagus form again. I was not good – I had never been good – at calming down. And now that I was working with other dragons, instead of Professor McGonagall, no one else really had the patience to deal with me either. Things were often broken; screams were often heard; there was even a bad fire at one point. Still, I kept working, because if I didn’t, the dragons of Great Britain were absolutely fucked.

Too soon after I had begun, though, my entire world came to an end. I managed to show up to dinner, sitting down at the table. Harry wasn’t there yet; neither was my mother. My father was talking quietly with my grandparents. Elena wasn’t saying anything; she knew better by now than to try and bother me about anything. I pushed around the peas on my plate slowly. I had gotten a lot of heroin now from the others; they had bought a bunch and gave it to me, knowing that I just used it to sleep, what with being distracted by them and their purposefully stressful situations all day. I was tempted to up the intake, but I knew if I did I would be relaxed while we worked, which wouldn’t allow me to get _anywhere_.

The front door opened rapidly; I looked up slowly as Mum and Harry came running in, panting heavily.

“Melinda, what’s wrong?” Dad asked, rushing to his feet to hold her in his arms.

“They’re after us – they’re here. They knew the Ministry wouldn’t give a shit – we have to go, we have to go now,” Mum urged.

“Who’s after us?” Elena asked sharply, jumping to her feet.

“A group of Death Eaters were following Harry and me home. Well, they were following me home; Harry had been in the park at the time,” Melinda hissed, “I managed to stun them, but they’ll wake up soon enough. We have to pack and get out of here, now. Yona, Victor, you need to go into hiding – do you have a safe house – this can’t be a coincidence, they have to know where we live…”

“We have a place to go,” Gran reassured, “The school is so well hidden the students can’t even find it on their own.”

“You guys go pack. Only grab the essentials – everyone, now!” Gramps urged.

Panic had flooded my entire soul. I was torn between so many desires – my need to keep training, my fear of going home (it was practically paralyzing; Harry had to drag me up the stairs to pack), my terror of the death eaters, my confusion over how they had found us. I managed to pack everything into my knapsack – I hadn’t brought much with me to begin with – stuffing my smack into my leather jacket pocket. I followed Elena and Harry downstairs in a rush, shifting fearfully and looking around.

Gran had Cheepers on her shoulder and her notes and some clothes in a bag; Gramps looked at us sternly.

“You all be good. We are going to leave now; there is no time to waste,” he urged. We all nodded and the two of them apparated straight out of the kitchen. Mum and Dad came running down then, looking at us hurriedly.

“We don’t have a plane ticket – we have to go home the magical way. Kids, grab onto our arms, we’re side-along apparating, and we’re going to have to have two people on one arm,” Mum explained.

Harry and Elena grabbed Dad; I grabbed Mum, and they apparated with a _Crack!_ I felt the darkness close in all around me – it was like I was suffocating – before we ended up in a small office.

“Hello Melinda, it’s good to see you,” a man greeted. He was Polynesian in appearance, with short curly black hair, brown skin, and brown eyes. He was short and a little stumpy, and he greeted Mum like an old friend.

“Yes, Edgar, well, we have to get home in a hurry – there were Death Eaters back in Englewood, you should alert the law enforcement,” Mum explained in a rush.

“Oh my goodness,” Edgar gasped, “Yes, I will alert the government at once – still no chance yours will…”

“Not even an inkling,” Mum grunted, “You know how hard your President of Magic has been working…”

“He wants to cut ties – right – this isn’t the time. Here, I’ll set up a floo – where would you like to end up?”

“Leaky Cauldron in London,” Mum rushed.

“London?!” Harry, Elena and I gasped in unison.

“The headquarters are there – oh I’ll explain when we get there. Edgar, can you do it? I know an emergency long-distance flu is risky…”

“No, I’ve got it,” Edgar was muttering at a fireplace, waving his wand eagerly, his brow furrowed in concentration. Harry looked at me in pure panic.

“They were clearly after us – trying to capture me to bring me to Voldemort,” Harry whispered.

“They came out of nowhere, this can’t be a coincidence,” Mum growled.

“Aunt Melinda was brilliant, though, she fought them off so fast – seriously, you should have seen it –“ Harry gushed.

“Yes, well, now our focus is on getting you lot home without you getting into trouble. The Ministry is going to try and spin this against you – if they find out – which they better not, not the way I’m going about getting home,” Mum hissed.

“Alright,” Edgar urged, “It’s done – I’ll send you word of what happens –“

“Thank you, alright Nathaniel, go in first, the kids will follow, I’ll take up the rear,” Mum instructed. Dad dove into the fire headfirst; apparently it only had one stop, as he didn’t say anything before being transported away.

“Harry, go, now!” Mum urged. Harry went in after Dad. I followed wordlessly, rushing through the fire – it was the longest floo journey I had ever had, and I screamed slightly at the never-ending whooping feeling in the pit of my stomach.

I collapsed on the floor of the Leaky Cauldron; it didn’t seem like anything terrible was happening here. I looked around in shock and saw my Dad and Harry arguing with the barkeeper about their appearance unannounced. I groaned softly and looked around at the surroundings.

_Oh God – I’m home…_

The fear that entered me was so strong I felt my fingers start to twitch. I moaned softly and, rather than count to ten, ran out of the pub, and into the muggle street. I could hear shouts of protest behind me, but I kept sprinting, running down the streets as fast as I could. I sprinted, my feet pounding into the pavement, my heart racing at breakneck speeds, trying my hardest to get to anywhere – any place – that didn’t feel familiar.

I ran onto a sketchy tube station and snuck in behind a lady who was not paying attention as she swiped in; I ran down to the train and hopped onto it, focusing on nothing other than getting the fuck away as the train zoomed underneath the city. It was the same plan I had had for Chicago; just a different city.

Eventually I found myself at another sketchy stop and I got off, sneaking behind a man who was so deep in conversation with another guy that I managed to sneak out of the gate with him. I then sprinted as fast as I could through the city, my knapsack bouncing on my bag, me starting to get out of breath as I ran to a building that looked as though it had ben abandoned.

I nodded to myself; this would do. I climbed up the fire escape of the building, not trusting the insides; I reached the roof and sat down on top of it, panting heavily. The gravel on the surface was course and uncomfortable. I took out some sweatshirts and laid them out neatly on top of them, and put another one on over my head.

 _This will work nicely_. I then curled up against a wall and took a long, deep breath. I had smack, enough to last me until I went back to Hogwarts, as long as I used it wisely. Granted, I wasn’t going to _go_ back to Hogwarts, but it was hard to not measure time by education. I took a hit, enjoyed the relaxation of it, and fell asleep to the sound of the noisy street below.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you guys enjoyed this chapter; it's important to note that Maggie's recovery really is going to be a two steps forward, one step back sort of deal. Please let me know what you think in the comments!


	47. Chapter Forty - Six: July 30 - August 4, 1995, London

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Caught up, in life 
> 
> Losing all my friends 
> 
> Family has tried, to heal all my addictions 
> 
> Tragic it seems, to be alone again 
> 
> I'm giving in to you 
> 
> Take me under 
> 
> I'm giving in to you 
> 
> I'm dying tonight 
> 
> I'm giving in to you 
> 
> Watch me crumble 
> 
> I'm giving in to you 
> 
> I'm crying tonight 
> 
> I'm giving in to you." 
> 
> ~Adema, "Giving In".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warnings for drug use and descriptions of homelessness

Chapter 46: July 30 – August 4, 1995, London

I woke up the next morning feeling stiff all over. That was the problem with not sleeping in a bed; still, I knew there was no way around it.

 _Now, to find food_ , I thought sadly. I put all my things back in my knapsack; I couldn’t be too careful that someone could find my spot. In addition, if I needed to, I had to be able to find a new place to crash. I climbed back down the fire escape and walked through the streets of London, looking around for a shop where I could manage to steal some food.

I found a market soon enough, and headed into it; I utilized my quickness as a dragon and as a witch to snatch some bread and cheese. I grinned happily and took my prizes to a nearby park. I sat underneath a tree and ate it slowly, looking out over the park curiously. There were a lot of muggles wandering around and talking as though the world wasn’t going to shit. A mum was scolding her child for falling in the dirt; ignoring the fact that the child in question was sobbing uncontrollably, probably from pain from their fall. A young couple was walking by hand-in-hand, a person who looked like a boy whispering in the other’s (looked like a girl) ear; she had a smile on her face. A probable-man was playing with a football, kicking it up into the air and then passing it to his mate.

I envied them.

I finished my food and got up, walking to the nearest water fountain and drinking from it hurriedly. I knew that I was in danger in one place for too long; especially when I was stealing food. I ran through the park and out into the street.

Now the question remained – did I try to find a new home, or do I stick around this location? If I stuck in one place for too long, I could get caught by authorities – and when I got caught by authorities, my mum found me. I took a huge sigh and continued walking on, moving deftly through the narrow streets and alleyways.

London was a different city from Chicago; one I was not familiar with in the slightest. The buildings were much too short; the air was much too smoggy. Still, the entire place felt old; it was an age that I could feel in my very bones, that made me feel strangely alive. There was something about navigating these streets that made me feel excited and adventurous; navigating the streets of Chicago just made me feel jaded and tough.

Feeling excited and adventurous was something I horrifically missed. I used to feel it in forests. Now I was lucky if I felt it at all.

I continued walking through the city, not stopping for breath until I reached another park. I found a food stand nearby and headed to it, waiting for a moment when I could strike. My stomach was growling horrifically, and I didn’t like the complete emptiness I felt in the pit of my stomach. When the worker’s back was turned, I grabbed an orange and a banana; I ran off as quickly as I could (which was very fast) to the other edge of the park. Satisfied that the man hadn’t followed me, I ate my food happily. Still, my stomach didn’t feel very full afterwards.

 _How am I going to find enough to eat every day_ , I thought in horror. I was terrified. I didn’t know what to do – how to get a job or anything like that.

 _Soup kitchen_ , I suddenly thought. I had to find one of those; some place that was designated for the homeless. Like me. I had no idea where to even begin looking; I walked down the busy streets towards the nearest tube station, hoping that maybe I could find some information in one of those. The tube station was crowded; there were probably more than a hundred people milling about inside of it, and I had no ability to see above the heads of the people. I groaned softly and moved towards a nearby map; the map only showed me the tube lines, and not anything about what was around me.

I would have to steal again. I groaned softly and looked around; sadly, the middle of a tube station was the perfect place to pick pockets. And I had to do that if I was to survive. I knew nothing about this city; in Chicago I would be able to find a soup kitchen or homeless shelter quickly. In Chicago, I had people I knew I could stay with who wouldn’t insist I go back to my life. Here… here I would have to compromise any morality I may have had left just to survive.

The people barely noticed me as they milled about, going back and forth from their tube station to the street outside. I saw a man’s wallet bulging from the back pocket of his trousers; I grimaced and grabbed it, walking quickly through the rest of the tube station, out to the back alleyway, sneaking to a place where few people were. I opened up the wallet; there was a good number of pounds inside, as well as a bank card, though I knew I wouldn’t be able to use that without a pin code. I took out the cash and went back into the tube station, leaving the wallet on a table and walking away.

I now had enough pounds to feed myself for at least a few days. Finding a way to shower was another question entirely; but I was much too focused on food. I wandered the streets until finally I found the nearest Iceland, buying cheap cheese, bread, and fruit. Meat was too much of a hassle. I then went back out to the park and sat underneath another tree and ate, trying to not look at the people around me now.

I sighed once I had finished my meal; I was full now, but I didn’t like the feeling in the pit of my stomach at how I had come to be so. I ran a hand through my hair and held my face in my hands, trying my hardest not to cry. Still; it was better, really, for me out here. No matter how afraid I felt as I sat underneath that tree, I knew it was nothing compared to how afraid I felt back in the Wizarding world; no matter how terrible things were for me in these streets, at the very least I wasn’t constantly having flashbacks of memories I could barely admit I had.

I got up from underneath the tree and continued walking down the streets, now looking for a café in which I could go to the bathroom. I snuck into one and ran to the back, making sure to splash ample amounts of water on myself everywhere that skin was visible. I looked in the mirror and sighed heavily – I still looked grungy and tired, and I knew soon the fact that I was a street kid would be evident to anyone who saw me. I left the bathroom and bought a water from the café in order to not feel guilty for using their bathroom; never mind that I hadn’t really bought the water myself.

It was dark outside now; very clearly there was a drop in the number of people in the streets. It was about time for everyone to go to bed, and I knew that I really should as well. I wandered through the streets and down more alleyways, looking for another abandoned building to sleep on top of. This was a bit nicer part of the city and almost every building looked as though it was heavily used. Still, I needed to find _somewhere_ to sleep where I wouldn’t feel afraid someone would attack me as I did so. I finally managed to find a building that, at the least, looked less well loved than the rest of them. I grabbed the fire escape and pulled it down forcefully; it took a few tries, but I finally got it to budge. I then climbed up to this new building and stumbled onto the roof, walking over to another corner of the short wall. I set out everything neatly; I didn’t need as many sweatshirts underneath me tonight, since the roof of _this_ building was concrete. I then curled up into a ball, shivering slightly. I needed my fix, and I needed it right in that second. I took out some of the brown powder and breathed it in. The rush of sleepiness and relaxation was just enough to put me asleep once again.

I woke up again, still stiff as a board, especially now that I had spent two nights sleeping like this. I groaned uncontrollably and rested my head against my knees. Tears were coming to my eyes and spilling over onto my bare knees; my boots were getting fairly frayed now and I knew I needed to change into jeans and trainers. I wasn’t going to a party, I was trying to survive. Still, I was so mentally exhausted; the mere thought of getting off this roof was enough to make me want to go back to bed.

I managed to push myself down and walked through the streets again, now so exhausted that I couldn’t find the energy to run. What was the point, anyway? It wasn’t as though anyone was chasing me. I wasn’t out for money or food right now; I had a few days before I needed to steal again. As far as anyone knew, I was just a teenager wandering through the streets of London, seeing the sights, and exploring.

 _Maybe that’s what I should do_ , I thought as I wandered into another café to use the bathroom and change, _go and see things. Not like there’s anything else to do all day_.

London was famous for its free museums. At the very least, I could be inside. I changed quickly into a sweatshirt, trainers and jeans, packing my leather jacket, shorts and boots into my knapsack. I took the opportunity to clean the rest of my body with water and soap from the sink; it wasn’t a shower, but it would have to do.

I went up to the counter of the café and bought a pastry and water again; the woman behind the counter looked at me suspiciously but seemed to relax when she saw that I actually was paying. I ate the pastry slowly, hoping to savor every morsel. Every bite counted when my stomach was so permanently empty. The café was only filled with a few people, probably on their way to work; none of them paid so much as a minute of attention to me.

I wandered back outside and went looking for another tube station. I wanted to ride the rails; I knew of some things I wanted to see. Namely, I wanted to see museums, I wanted to raid libraries that weren’t tainted with horror, I wanted to rest in parks that weren’t covered in trees. I took a map of information about site-seeing destinations in London, and sat down on a bench to read it.

 _Huh, Crystal Palace Gardens. They have the old-fashioned dinosaur statues_ , I thought curiously. It was as good of a place to go to as any. I spent some money to get an Oyster Card; I would need to make multiple tube journeys anyway, there was no point in trying to penny pinch about it. I went onto the tube and stared at all the people there with me; they all were identical in that they were just trying to get from one place to another. They had little interest in their surroundings or the other people near them.

I had literally picked the best place in the world to disappear. I had little reason to ever leave London, though my life would probably be monotonous now.

I got to the Waterloo station and walked out, walking over to the bus station. I hopped on and sat on the top level, staring out to the street below. This was also good because the more I moved around, the less likely anyone could find me. I waited until I got to the right stop and hopped off, walking through to the park.

Crystal Palace Gardens had been the home of a large art project back in the eighteen hundreds, when dinosaurs were thought to be like lizards and constructed as such. All these large statues weren’t accurate in the slightest, but they were interesting to look at, and practically iconic in terms of paleontological history. I walked through the pathways, dodging all the small children scampering around me; the not-dinosaurs were impressive to look at, and I spent a good portion of the day just staring at them.

I was so happy to be in the park that I didn’t go far to find food for the day; I bought more bread and cheese (it was cheap and gave me nutrients) and wandered back to the park. It was getting dark; I leapt deftly over the fence and went to go sit underneath the outdated _Megalosaurus_. It was like a large, weird crocodile-lizard, with a much too big jaw, walking on all fours and its tail dragging on the ground. I went and crouched underneath the statue, enjoying the ancient character of everything in this park. I was a little cold, so I put on an extra sweatshirt; the ground was soft enough that I didn’t need anything underneath me. I took a hit, curled up, and fell fast asleep.

Waking up not on a roof was nice; I felt less stiff this morning than I had before. I had managed to wake up early enough that there didn’t seem to be anyone there. I quickly got out of the closed-off section of the park, walking out to a nearby food stand and buying another pastry and water. I looked at my cash; I had spent money on my Oyster Card and was already running out again.

 _Great_ , I thought sadly. I went to go and take the bus back; Waterloo was a busy station, and I could use it to gather more funds.

The bus moved slowly; it was beginning to rain outside. I sighed and leaned against the window. I hadn’t talked to anyone in days; even when I was avoiding my family back in Chicago, I always had people – people I didn’t associate with pain and horror – to talk to. Now I had no one.

 _Maybe I should stick to one place_ , I thought sadly. Sticking to one place would allow me to get to know the people around me. I could find a place to crash, even, if I got to know people in the area. My best bet would probably be the council estates; no one questioned anything on those lots. All I had to do was hop on the DLR to the East End and there would be no end of places for me to go and stay for long periods of time.

I took a deep breath; I was overwhelmed with how lonely I was in that minute. I gripped my fists tightly and got off the bus, going to Waterloo station and wandering around. This station was posh; there were a lot of fancy people walking around, talking to each other, dressed in nice clothes and looking much more put-together than I was. I even saw security guards; it would be difficult to try and steal while I was here, but I had to try.

I went to a café in the station and watched everyone moving around me; they also seemed much more aware of themselves than at that other tube stop. I groaned internally, knowing that this would be nearly impossible to pull off without getting into trouble. At best, I would have to rely on my ability to run. Still, I didn’t want to steal from the poorer folk out by the DLR; I had to take my shot here, in a wealthier portion of the city, but not so wealthy that people would actually try and get me arrested on the spot.

The guard in the corner of the station was talking to a lady about how to set up her Oyster Card. Now was my chance. I sprinted into the crowd of people coming up from the latest train and walked with them as though I too had come out. I milled about, trying to not draw attention to myself, and I managed to find another man with poor wallet storage skills. I grabbed the wallet from his back pocket and hurried through the station, walking to the other end of the building.

“Oi!” a voice called out behind me. I looked in panic to see the security guard; he had spotted me. I panicked and sprinted, running as fast as I could out to the street and down it. I kept running as hard as I could, which was thankfully still very fast; I could hear the man calling out for me to stop but I refused. I kept going, down another twisted alleyway, into another dark corner of the city. I passed an old building in front of which were a few American study abroad students. I kept running out past a bakery, down a few more sketchy looking streets. There were quite a few pubs over here, and there were plenty of people already waiting outside of them, talking and getting ready for their day. I kept on going, not even pausing to think as I panicked. Getting arrested would be the _worst_ possible thing to happen to me right then. 

I kept running down a hilled street, out past a park, and further deep into the streets of London. I was beginning to realize I had absolutely no idea where I was. Still, I couldn’t pause for breath. I pushed my way past people milling about, going to and from shops and work and cafes; I almost felt like I was flying again. London was the new forest; I was alive as I had not been in weeks, feeling the smoggy air fill my lungs and watching as the buildings whirred past my vision.

I finally allowed myself to stop when I had reached London Bridge; I stood outside of it and bent over, huffing with the effort of my running. I was so out of breath I could barely think. I had to rest. I went and sat on a bench outside of a grocery, closing my eyes tightly and trying to count to ten. My fingers had started to twitch; this was a crowded area, and if I shifted, I would be in big trouble.

_One_

People were walking by without paying much attention to me; one little girl pointed at me, but her mother rushed her along down the street.

_Two_

A man walked up to me and offered to give me a tenner; I took the offer gladly, thanking him with soft words coming off my lips. I must have really looked homeless now.

_Three_

Two police officers passed me and I tried to look innocent as possible, sticking the stolen wallet between my leg and the back of the bench. They paid no attention to me; they appeared to be talking about the upcoming match.

_Four_

Two little old ladies were walking by now; one of them was laughing loudly. The other one caught sight of me and sneered; the first one scolded her for being cruel. I looked away.

_Five_

A couple walked by; they appeared to be a boy and a girl. The girl was giggling at something loudly and the boy was yelling at her; I was embarrassed to see this and I buried my head in my knees. The boy was now yelling at the girl for having gone out to the pub without him the night before. I feared for the girl.

_Six_

A man who appeared to be Pakistani in origin was walking through the streets. He sat next to me on the bench to read the paper; he snorted at something on a page. I continued to bury my face in my knees.

_Seven_

The man was now getting harassed by another man, who was white, and calling him slurs. The Pakistani man was furious and stood up, yelling at the white man angrily. The two began fighting in front of me. I watched with wide, fearful eyes as a third man – also white – broke up the fight. The Pakistani man left. No policemen came.

_Eight_

Two girls were walking past, their hands intertwined. They looked absolutely adorable; and had their heads together, talking quietly with one another. One girl gave the other a peck on the cheek. The second girl giggled. They walked away without incident; I was glad.

_Nine_

A man walked up to me and asked where I was from, and if I needed help getting home. I shook my head furiously. He tried to get me to speak again, but I was looking fiercely away. He got the hint, and left.

_Ten_

I took a deep breath and looked up at the grey, foreboding sky. It would probably rain at any moment. I sighed, glad at least that the moment had passed without incident. I got up from the bench and walked into another nearby alleyway; I hunched against the wall and looked back and forth in fear. Once I saw no one was around, I took the stolen wallet and looked through it. There was _significantly_ more money in this one; since I wouldn’t need to top-up my Oyster for a while, I wouldn’t have to steal again for a while either. I pocketed the money and walked back to the bench, leaving the wallet on it, before running away again.

Now I just wanted to get over to the East End where maybe I could kip out for a while. I sighed and went back to a tube station, though I was nervous that someone – another guard, or a policeman – would know to be on the lookout for me. I had to take my chances. I ran to the London Bridge station and through it, swiping in as quickly as I could and sprinting down towards a train. I hopped on and held tightly to a pole, looking around at all the people near me nervously.

Once again, they didn’t want to pay attention. I breathed a sigh of relief and rested my head against the metal pole. There were many people crowding in on this train; it was fairly overwhelming, and I worried that any one of them could be a wizard, looking for me in the streets. I groaned and leaned on the pole. I was so lonely it was beginning to crash in around me; I was having significant trouble breathing as I rested there.

Eventually I reached the Canary Wharf station. I got out and wandered upstairs to where the DLR was, looking around again for guards. This was also a posh station, given that it was out in what seemed to be a more suburban type area. There were a few people who looked at me and started muttering. I put up my hood and hunched over, trying to become smaller so that less attention would be drawn to me. I was having a lot of trouble not bursting into tears as I hopped onto the DLR train and sat next to some people who looked as dirty as I felt. At the very least, I wasn’t standing out anymore, though I knew I must have been starting to smell.

The train was rickety and wobbly; still, it took me through the East End. Eventually I was at a stop that looked sufficiently grungy and dangerous; here, I would be able to hide. I got off the train and wandered into the streets, looking around for the nearest pub, club, or park.

Everyone looked dirty and haggard; multiple people even bumped into me as I passed, but didn’t seem to make anything of me. I wandered through the streets and found a grocery again. I hurried inside, running to grab more food – I opted for a weird portable salad thing, knowing I needed something more than bread and cheese, and now I had some extra cash. I went outside and sat on a bench, eating the salad and staring out at the street. Cars passed me in in droves; people continued on their way in a similar fashion. I took a deep breath and rested my head against the back of the bench.

 _Oh god, I’m so lost_ , I thought dejectedly. It was true. I was lost, in the middle of London, and I was so alone that I was beginning to feel hopeless again. I took a deep, shaking breath, trying hard to not burst into tears in the middle of East End.

I finished my food and decided to look for a place where I could clean up; I knew I was beginning to smell something fierce, and I needed to clean up. I walked around, looking at every building, until I saw what looked to be a run-down gym. I entered it, sneaking in behind someone who was swiping in. Or maybe he knew I was entering the restricted areas behind him and didn’t care; I didn’t know. I rushed over to the girl’s section of the locker room and ran inside a hot shower for the first time in days.

 _Oh thank God_ , I thought joyfully as I rested under the hot stream of water; I knew that I could probably get kicked out at any second, but I needed to feel clean so bad that I didn’t even care. I enjoyed feeling the hot water running over my body as I placed my head against the wall of the shower stall. It was a little grungy, but I didn’t really care very much.

Now that I was sitting there in the water, alone with my thoughts, I began to cry again. Despair filled every corner of my body and my sobs grew and grew to match it; my entire body was shaking as I practically screamed into the wall. I gripped the tile with my hand and groaned with sadness. It felt like my heart was collapsing in on myself. The reality of the life that I had joined was crashing in around me.

_Is this better than flashbacks?_

I groaned heavily and finished washing myself off, coming back out and getting dressed. No one seemed to pay attention to me; this gym must have been very run down. I left silently, going out into the street and looking around at the darkness. I sighed and wandered over to a nearby abandoned building; there were a lot out here. The building had no fire escape, so I grabbed hold of a window ledge, swinging myself up to the next one. I continued to climb up the wall in this way, using the many holes where bricks had fallen as footholds. I finally managed to grip the edge of the roof and hoisted myself over it, panting with the effort as I lay against the gravel.

 _Maybe I should just get therapy and go home_.

The thought alone drove panic into my soul. Getting therapy meant telling someone everything that had happened to me. While I had managed to do that once before, it had nearly killed me – the effort had been so terrible, so horrific, that I never wanted to do it again. I groaned softly and gripped the gravel tightly in my hand, my hand hurting as the sharp edges of the rocks dug into my skin.

Getting therapy meant admitting to the people I _knew_ , furthermore, what happened to me. It meant telling my mum – my dad – my brother – my sister – my best friend – my…

_My soulmate…_

What had happened. What _he_ had done. What I had seen in the forest. What I had felt when my brother had disappeared. How I had nightmares about everything every night, and needed drugs to make them go away.

The thoughts flowing through my brain made me sob again. Thinking of… the person… was the worst of all. I didn’t know what he was thinking right now – he definitely missed me. He was definitely worried about me. And I was doing that. I was doing that to him.

I roared in pain, hunched over with the force of my emotions. Let the record show that I did not like the idea of causing him pain – quite the opposite. The horror and despair I felt knowing I was doing so made my cry for a good hour on that roof. My body shook all over and I hugged my knees to my chest, curling into the fetal position on the gravel and moaning with desolation. I was hurting him; I was hurting him, and I didn’t know how to stop.

My tears began to slow; I uncurled from the gravel, whimpering and wiping off my face. It was beginning to rain again; I didn’t know what to do except sleep in the rain. I pulled on my second sweatshirt and put my third (and final) one over me to serve as a blanket as I curled up against the wall, hoping that the rain would eventually stop and I wouldn’t catch a terrible disease. Or maybe I would catch a terrible disease and die. At the very least, then, my suffering would be over. As the rain pounded around me, I remembered to take a hit. I sighed in relief as the warmth and comfort washed over me; I almost felt like I could continue living this life as long as I felt like this. Soon enough, I fell asleep again.

I woke up and looked around in a daze; it was still raining, and I was absolutely soaked. I had no idea what time it was. I groaned, shivering madly with cold, hunched up in a ball to conserve warmth. I whimpered loudly and tried to not cry again; I didn’t know what to do or where to go. I needed to try and sleep somewhere warm, whether it was now (I still felt tired), or later.

I got down off the roof, throwing the third, soaked sweatshirt over my head. I wandered around the streets in a daze; it appeared to be early morning, and at the very least I didn’t have to try to find somewhere to sleep now. Still, I was soaked to the bones, and I felt terrible as a result. I needed to dry off, I needed to find somewhere to sit and let the water drip away. I wandered through the streets, looking for somewhere I could go inside. Every step I took made me feel increasingly freezing; my teeth were chattering in my mouth, and my chest was hurting something terrible. As I walked by a dingy looking fast food restaurant, I was overcome with a cough, and I doubled over as I hacked out what felt like an entire lung.

 _God dammit_ , I thought, horrified. I went inside a nearby gas station, wandering through the stands of junk food, trying to look like I was going to buy something. All I really wanted was to dry off. Still, a gas station wasn’t the right place to do that. I was already getting looks from people. If I had ever looked homeless in my life, it must have been right then.

I walked back outside into the rain and continued walking through the streets. At the very least, I had to find a Launderette. I wandered down at least two miles worth of street before I finally found one; I eagerly hopped inside, looking around. Everyone there was doing their laundry and ignoring each other. I wildly searched for a bathroom; having found one, I rushed inside to change. I threw on a t-shirt and my other pair of jeans, taking all my other clothes out into the room. I went and bought some detergent and threw all my clothes into a washer. It cost some money, but it would be worth it to be dry at last.

Sitting in the Launderette was good as well. People didn’t really care if some girl was sitting in the middle of the room; they were too busy trying to get their own laundry done and back home despite the rain. I breathed deeply; glad my chest wasn’t hurting quite as much now as it had been before. Still, every once in a while I was overcome with a deep, bone-shaking cough. I would hunch over, holding my hands over my mouth as I hacked it out. The people would give me a little more space when I did this, but nothing else of interest happened. I focused on trying to not cough and on my laundry, rather than anything else. The time passed slowly, but at least I wasn’t crying.

Eventually my laundry finished; I grabbed it all and went back into the bathroom. I changed, enjoying immensely the feeling of warm all around me as I put on the freshly laundered sweatshirts. The rain was beginning to let up outside and I walked out back into the street, wandering down to look for some food. I would need it, after all.

As I wandered through the street again, I saw my first bona-fide soup kitchen. I almost cried in joy as I ran inside. There was nothing I wanted more in this world than the joy of hot soup going down my throat.

I got into line behind a grungy looking man; no one paid any attention to me as I walked through the line, eagerly getting glops of warm, chunky looking soup. I went and sat in a corner of the room, slowly drinking the soup, trying to make it last as long as possible. It wasn’t very good, but the feeling of warm liquid going down my throat was so wonderful that I didn’t even really care. I scooped up every last bit of that soup before leaving, knowing that I still needed to keep moving just in case the police, the Ministry, or my family caught up with me.

It was still drizzling, and I didn’t really feel like sleeping on a roof again that night. I walked over to a small alleyway and crouched underneath an arch, setting up underneath it and enjoying how dry it felt. It was fairly early in the evening, but I hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before; I really needed to sleep. I could hear dripping as water slowly fell around me and off the ledge of the arch, and I sighed sadly. There was something about being exposed – in the street, where anyone could reach me – that made it harder for me to relax, and try and fall asleep. I also was still hungry; I had had a long day, and my stomach felt emptier than ever. I missed the warm feeling I had felt when I was eating the soup.

I quickly took out the smack and had a hit; it was the only way sleep was going to happen anymore. I took just a smidge more than usual; I really needed to be able to sleep despite my nervousness. I clutched my money and my stash tightly in my hand in my sweatshirt pocket as happiness washed over me. It was almost as if, whenever I did it, I was back in time. I was a child again, playing with my brother, running around and acting silly, as though there wasn’t danger near us. I was reading with my best friend, the two of us putting our heads together to figure out our homework, beaming at each other as we figured out complex transfigurations. I was with my soulmate, gasping as we realized new things about plants, looking at nature and life on this planet with complete and utter fascination.

Feeling as happy as I did back then, I was always able to fall asleep.

Still, I always woke up eventually. I did and saw I was still holding my money, smack, and knapsack, and I breathed easier. I got up and wandered into the street, looking around for a café or grocery so I could get some food. Finding the latter (another Iceland), I wandered inside and bought some more cheap cheese, bread, and an apple. I went out to a bench – it was still drizzling, though not as bad – and ate it all quickly. The streets were quieter today. I continued walking, finding a DLR stop, and looked inside of it. I wondered, briefly, if I should try and go to somewhere else; I was so restless and afraid all the time, I knew I wouldn’t be able to stay in one place after all. It wasn’t like I had tried to talk to anyone in the soup kitchen. The loneliness was settling in on my heart again and I took a long, shaky breath.

“Hey! Hey, you!” I turned around slowly; I hadn’t been doing anything, and I was confused. A guard came up to me; he was portly and red in the face, looking down at me sternly.

“Were you in Waterloo station a few days ago?” he asked gruffly.

“No,” I answered immediately, though my heart was pounding in my chest.

“Yeah, sure, I believe you. I need to see some ID,” the guard grunted.

“I don’t have any,” I answered sheepishly.

“How old are ya?” the man squinted at me. I was getting more panicky now. My fingers were beginning to itch.

“I’m sorry, I’ve got to go,” I breathed. The guard watched me in shock as I rushed to the gate, swiped in, and ran out to the train.

“Oi! Stop!” he shouted after me, but the train was coming in just in time; I hopped on it and scurried to a seat, panting with fear. I started coughing again and groaned when I had finished, holding my head in my hands.

 _Guess I can’t stay in any place for too long_.

The thought alone was exhausting. I couldn’t keep this up for the rest of my life.

 _I want to go home_.

The thought terrified me. I didn’t want to keep running, but I couldn’t go home either. Home was where flashbacks lay; home was where terror lived. I also didn’t know where home was; sure, I could go to Braemar, but my mum said we were staying out here over the summer. There was some sort of safe house that I had no idea where it was. Hell, I could have _passed_ it in my wanderings; there was no way to know.

I sobbed hard against the window again, holding my face in my hands.

 _I fucked up, I fucked up, I fucked up, I fucked up_ , I thought in a panic. I had no way of getting home. I had no way of finding my family. My only hope was to go to King’s Cross on September 1st and catch the train to Hogwarts – and I didn’t even remember what day it was! Every day since I had run away had blurred together.

 _Shit!_ I thought in horror. The DLR line was ending; I was at Stratford station. I got out and walked over to another train; I needed to keep moving. As I sat on the nicer, cleaner tube car, I looked over at a woman sitting next to me.

“Excuse me, ma’am, what day is today?” I asked softly. The woman looked at me scathingly.

“August Third,” she responded, “Please, sit over _there_.” I must have looked grungy. I got up, sneering at her, and sat down at a farther away seat. I made a mental note to keep track of the days better.

 _Missed their birthdays_ , a voice in my head reprimanded me. I groaned; it was true. I had missed my brother’s _and_ my soulmate’s birthdays. Still, I didn’t really know what else to do. I didn’t know where they were.

I got off at Bank and went on another line; I knew where I was angling. I spent the entire day, essentially, riding the rails; I finally got out at Camden Town, a portion of the city known for its art and alternative lifestyles.

I wandered over to a café, where I purchased fish and chips and a soda. I ate it slowly again, starving after a long day on the rails. I probably wasn’t eating too much; still, having any food at all was a miracle for me at this point. Many people walked by, dressed in grungy and punk clothing, chatting with each other and not even giving me a second chance. I breathed easier, knowing that I would blend in here as well, and enjoyed my food before walking out into the streets.

It was finally not raining again; I climbed onto a roof and crouched against the low wall. My back ached from the familiar position, but I was just glad to be sleeping somewhere safe. I took the old dose of my stuff again, and soon felt asleep against the wall.

When I woke up, an owl was staring at me. I screamed in shock, jumping back from the owl and panting. The owl dropped a letter at my feet and then took off, flying into the air. My hands were shaking like crazy; I took the letter and prayed to God that the Ministry wouldn’t be the sender.

 _Miss M. Johnson_  
Homeless   
Camden Town  
London

I breathed a sigh of relief; it was my Hogwarts letter. I opened it, shaking, reading my book list and the usual note from McGonagall. Still, seeing it, and realizing that Hogwarts was still a thing that existed, sent my mind whirring.

 _Oh god. Oh god. Oh god_.

Do I go to school? Do I keep living like this? What do I do? I was trapped in a life I didn’t want but couldn’t leave. I was too scared – of being around the great bastard, of going back to the place where so many horrors happened, of telling the people I love what had happened to me, of dealing with a war that I never wanted.

I didn’t know what to do to take my mind off of it. I got down from the roof and wandered through the street of Camden Town; on almost every side there was some sort of café or club or venue for music. I entered a coffee shop and grabbed multiple pastries and water; I really needed food. My stomach was emptier than ever and my cough was still hurting every inch of my body.

When I finished eating, I realized that maybe the best thing for me would be to go somewhere I always wanted to go. I sighed, and dug out of my (still fairly damp) knapsack the brochure about London’s sights and sounds. I found what I was looking for – the British Natural History Museum – and found the appropriate tube stop. I managed to haul my aching body back out to the tube station, taking the train down to King’s Cross St. Pancras, getting off and onto another train, and then taking the tube down to South Kensington.

I got out and walked hurriedly over to the museum. If there were anything that would please me, it would be seeing _real_ dinosaurs. It was still the summer holidays, so a lot of children were there; in fact, it was so crowded I barely could see anyone at all. Everyone was just a face in the crowd, which meant I was too.

I enjoyed going through the dinosaur exhibit; every single fossil I saw filled my heart with joy and wonder. The _Euoplocephalus, Iguanodon_ , _Camerasaurus, Baryonyx,_ and _Deinonychus_ were all particularly wonderful. I honestly felt like, if I had to, I could _live_ in this museum.

Once I had gone through the exhibit once, I went back to the museum café; it was extraordinarily expensive, but I didn’t feel like going outside and looking for somewhere else. I ate hurriedly and ran back into the dinosaur exhibit. I sat on a bench and just stared at the fossils, in awe, and so happy to be seeing something both comforting and non-triggering that I honestly felt like I could fall asleep without the stuff, as long as I was in that room.

I went and looked around at the other exhibits as well, though for not as long – nothing could hold my attention like the dinosaurs. I went and spent the rest of my time in that exhibit until the museum itself closed; I departed in sadness, walking down the streets and going into another café to buy some food. I ate my cup of macaroni and cheese on a bench, staring at the large and beautiful museum building in front of me, before looking for a nearby building to sleep on.

There wasn’t a lot; obviously the area around the museum had to be pretty nice. I also didn’t like walking through these better kept streets; I continuously felt like I was being watched, which terrified me, as the police would be the last thing I wanted to deal with right now. I finally found a good building to sleep on, and I climbed up the relatively accessible fire escape. I went and made my set up, and – still feeling, in a terrified fashion, as though I were being watched – took my nightly medicine.

 _No one is watching you_ , I reassured myself. I didn’t see anyone around me; no one had followed me onto the roof. I didn’t hear anything, either. I sighed; the warmth was already washing over me. Before I could have another paranoid thought, I was fast asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah I know the Oyster Card was implemented in 2003, but I don't really know what was used before then and I figured it was not a huge deal to bend that fact a little bit. I did live in London myself for a while; most of this is based on my own thoughts and experiences. 
> 
> In that vein, sorry for the fairly dense chapter! I really wanted to focus on Maggie's experience on the streets, which didn't involve a lot of dialogue. It's important to see how she transitions from not being able to go home to realizing that she wanted to go home. Also, the panic and fear she feels at various stimuli in her life I felt were necessary for the story I'm trying to tell. At any rate, next chapter we'll finally see some hope in the horizon; so please let me know what you think of this one! Thanks!


	48. Chapter Forty - Seven: August 5 - August 6, 1995, London

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'm beaten down again 
> 
> I belong to them 
> 
> Beaten down again, I've failed you 
> 
> I'm weaker now my friend 
> 
> I belong to them 
> 
> Beaten down again, I've failed you." 
> 
> ~ Seether, "Truth".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning for mentions of rape and descriptions of drug withdrawal

Chapter 47: August 5 – August 6, 1995, London

I woke up slowly and groggily, shifting in the gravel of the roof slowly. I coughed deeply as I kept my eyes shut tightly, groaning with the pain of the cough in my entire chest.

 _I need to see a doctor_ , I thought dejectedly. I had absolutely no idea how I was going to go about this. I didn’t like the sunlight that was insisting on boring into my eyelids; I didn’t want to wake up yet. I wasn’t ready for another long day of being on the run. Maybe I could stay the museum one more day. The food was expensive, but at least I was happy. Well, happ _ier_.

I opened my eyes slowly, looking around at the roof sluggishly. I saw a bird poking around the gravel, a leaf floating on the rocks, Neville sitting and staring at me intensely, a large pile of smoke billowing in the distance, a plane passing overhe –

“Ahhhh!” I screamed at the top of my lungs, jumping back in complete shock. I pulled my knees up to my chest and shook madly, staring at Neville in shock. Neville just sat there, still staring at me.

“How the fucking bloody hell did you find me!” I screamed. Neville’s eyes widened now; clearly I was getting louder with each syllable. He crawled towards me and put his hand on my knee and I flinched back in fear. Just the sight of Neville was sending me into convulsions; I curled up against the ground and started weeping, trying to hold off any memories that might come crashing into my mind. I wrapped my arms around my head and screamed into them, trying to hold back anything that came forcibly – I could feel the memories at the edges of my mind but I held them back, shaking in the gravel I was lying on.

“Maggie – Maggie please – Maggie _please_ calm down – Maggie it’s just me – oh my god,” Neville was gasping next to me as I curled up into a tighter ball, shaking like a wet animal in the cold wind.

“Oh my god, this is worse than they said, Maggie please, Maggie,” Neville begged, his hand now on my arm. I didn’t have enough in me to flinch him away. I was now done screaming; the memories appeared to be staying back now; I was just weeping freely, moaning into my hands.

“Maggie, please Maggie, oh god, Maggie, oh no, oh god, Maggie,” Neville was crying now, and I was still curled up in a ball, trying my hardest not to shake anymore. I didn’t know what to do – I didn’t know how to uncurl and approach Neville. I was filled with so much fear and terror that I felt my fingers start to twitch madly. I couldn’t even think the word _one_ before I transformed, crouching on all four of my limbs, roaring as loud as I could into the sky.

“Fuck!” Neville screamed, falling back from me in terror as I started to run across the roof; just before I jumped off and flew away, I had the wherewithal to stop myself. I collapsed at the other edge of the roof and changed back, weeping again into my hands.

“Go away,” I whimpered loudly, “Just _go away_.”

“No,” Neville whispered.

“Didn’t you hear me? _Go away!_ ” I screamed at him, whirling around and staring at him angrily.

“No, I can’t do that, I _can’t_ ,” Neville urged, keeping his distance from me, but tears were falling freely from his eyes and he sat there, his fists clenched tightly.

“Why not?” I demanded.

“Because I can’t leave you, okay!” Neville shouted, “I can’t! Maggie you are _everything_ to me and I don’t know what’s happened to you but I can’t just let you destroy yourself!”

“I’m not destroying myself! I’ve already been destroyed! Now I’m just waiting for it to end!” I roared. It was strange hearing me admit that to myself outside. Neville’s face practically crumbled with despair. I broke down into tears again, forcing my face into my knees.

“Who destroyed you? Tell me, Maggie. I have to – I can’t – I _won’t_ –“

“Everything destroyed me!” I gasped against my knees, still staring at them, “Everything!”

“Oh god, Maggie,” Neville moaned. I wept openly, into my hands now, still hunched over into a ball.

“Please tell me what happened,” Neville begged. I looked up, my head snapping up rapidly, my very messy hair bouncing against my back.

“I can’t,” I whispered hoarsely.

Neville crawled over to me tentatively. I was torn between my deep, dark desire to run away, and my much more pressing need to run into his arms and stay there forever. I was so scared that I remained paralyzed in my spot; Neville stopped a respectful distance away from me and looked at me intensely again.

“Please, Maggie. Please. I can’t – this is so – I haven’t slept a wink since term ended,” Neville whispered. He looked it; I was beginning to notice his appearance. He looked disheveled, and had large bags under his eyes. His stubble was now more of a scratchy, short beard; his hair was still fairly long and curly, and clearly uncombed. Frankly, he looked like he had been on the streets, too.

I shook my head madly, tears flowing freely from my eyes still. Neville was crying now, too; he was running his hands rapidly through his hair and looking at me desperately, clearly at a loss for what to do.

“M-Maggie… _please_ ,” he gasped.

I let out another wail and finally gave in to what I knew was the healthier feeling. I dove at him and buried my head in his chest, weeping heavily as he wrapped his arms all the way around me and held me so tightly to him I could barely breathe. I continued to cry for a very long time, eventually wrapping my own arms around his stomach, holding so tightly that I felt like I was suffocating him, too.

I took a deep breath and pulled back from him, wiping off my face and still shaking.

“How did you find me,” I whispered. Neville sighed heavily.

“Erm… okay. I’ve been staying at the safe house this holiday. Most everyone has been,” Neville paused, “The Order thought it was safest if Harry’s closest associates were in a secret-kept house.”

It occurred to me that it shouldn’t be surprising that the Order had reconvened. Still, hearing these words were sending shockwaves through me; I had been so passionately ignoring the war, that hearing about it was going to trigger me if I wasn’t careful. I reached over to Neville and buried my face in his chest again, gripping his sweater tightly. He smelled like flowers, pine trees, and rivers – like usual. It comforted me, somehow.

“Anyway… erm… Harry’s been writing to Hermione and me all summer. Saying that you won’t talk to anyone anymore, you’re always out and hardly ever home… and that you said you weren’t going to go home with your family, you were going to run away,” Neville sighed. I looked up at him angrily.

“He _told you_?” I shrieked.

“Of course he did! He wants you safe!” Neville shook his head, “We all do!”

I scoffed, snorting loudly, and folding my arms across my chest.

“At any rate, he also told your mum… and they realized they couldn’t exactly force you to come home. So they came up with a plan,” Neville sighed. I felt my eyes narrowing into a glare.

“They would pretend they were in great danger – and you all had to leave right away. Your grandparents would go along with it, and then send the rest of your stuff along later. You would be rushed back home under the threat of danger, and in the middle so there would be people behind you to stop you from leaving, and people ahead of you to apprehend you if you escaped. The only problem was, your mum cleared everything with your government, but she forgot to clear it with Tom the barkeeper at the Leaky Cauldron. She didn’t want the Ministry to receive word that you were having a tough time, see. They’ve been looking for an excuse to expel you or throw you in a mental ward for ages. So he got mad at your dad and Harry… and that’s when you ran away,” Neville grimaced.

I was so furious I began to feel like my old self again. My fingers were twitching at my sides; I began counting out loud.

“One… two… three… four…” I muttered.

“What are you doing?” Neville asked.

“Counting out loud so I don’t shift without wanting to,” I hissed, “Five… six… seven… eight… nine… ten.” I looked up at Neville and took a deep breath; my fingers stopped twitching.

“Anyway… so when you ran, they tried to get you, but they couldn’t keep up… obviously,” Neville sighed, “Well, they came home, and I kind of… lost it. They were supposed to bring you home safe so we could try and help you. They failed, and I blamed them entirely… So I immediately left and started looking for you. I always went back to the safe house at night; I knew I couldn’t sleep out here. After two days of searching everywhere for you, I felt like I had lost all hope… but then I realized that you would _have_ to go to the Museum at some point. I prayed that you hadn’t already, or that at the least you would go back, and I’ve been stalking the dinosaur exhibit ever since.”

 I mentally kicked myself. Of course everyone would know to look for me there.

“When I saw you yesterday… oh god, Maggie, I was so relieved,” Neville sighed, tears appearing in his eyes, “I was so happy you were _alive_. I followed you around the whole day; when you went to bed, I waited for a little bit, and then followed you up here. I slept a little bit… but I mostly spent the night waiting for you to wake up.”

“I see,” I muttered.

“I’m sorry, I know you’re probably furious at me, but I couldn’t… I had to try and find you,” Neville sighed.

“I have a right to leave if I want to,” I mumbled.

“I have a right to closure; I just want to know _why_ ,” Neville begged.

“I told you. I’m destroyed,” I sighed.

“That’s not a real answer!” Neville insisted, “I’m… sorry. I just thought I meant more to you than this.”

“Of _course_ you do,” I answered immediately, “This is… just… I…” I felt the words choke in my throat again.

Neville sighed heavily, holding his face in his hands.

“Why didn’t you just approach me yesterday?” I asked softly.

“I didn’t want you to run,” Neville admitted sheepishly, “I admit that was pretty scummy of me. But I knew I wouldn’t be able to catch up with you.”

I sighed heavily. I _did_ owe him more than this; Neville had never _once_ , not _once_ , done anything bad to me. He cared about me so much I think it was more than he cared about himself. It was unfair to him to equate him with that horrible person in my mind; the _only_ thing they had in common was that I had romantic feelings for them both at some point. The _kind_ of romantic feelings weren’t even the same. There was no overlap between the two of them in the slightest.

 _And I really, really, really want to stop feeling like this_ , I thought to myself. It was true; if anything about the past five or so days had taught me something, it was this – I couldn’t do this anymore.

“It’s very hard for me to say what happened to me,” I whispered softly. Neville scooted closer to me hesitantly; I let him, looking up at him desperately.

“I figured,” Neville mumbled.

“Whenever I even _think_ about it I start – I get –“ I whimpered, feeling tears come to my eyes. I was starting to shake madly. Neville wrapped an arm tightly around me and I wept into his chest again.

“Whenever I think about it, I start to feel like I’m there again. It’s _like_ I’m there again. I – all my senses – I’m remembering it, so vividly, it’s as if I’m there,” I mumbled.

“Oh my god,” Neville whispered, “Maggie… Maggie I’m so sorry… I had _no_ idea…”

“And sometimes – the littlest thing will make me start to remember. It’s not always that vivid… like I’m there… but it’s still intrusive. I still don’t _want_ to remember. And I get nightmares every night… or, at least, I did,” I whispered, “And I’m scared all the time, and paranoid all the time. I can’t sleep, I feel… so… so much shame,” I whimpered, “I get startled so easily… I’m so numb all the time… I have no hope anymore… and it’s all been so terrible that I couldn’t even really… talk to anyone about it.”

“Oh my god,” Neville repeated, “What… is there a _term_ for this…”

“I dunno. Probably,” I whispered.

“I have to figure this out. We need to get you treatment. We need to get you _help_ ,” Neville whispered.

“I’m scared of going to a therapist. The Ministry will find out. They’ll lock me away,” I mumbled.

“Not if I can help it… Come on. We’re going to the library. I’ll figure out what this is, and I’ll try to help you, as much as I can, at first,” Neville reassured.

“Okay,” I whispered, “Can… can we eat first?”

“Do you have any money?” Neville sighed, “I don’t have anything… I’ve been going back to the house for food, but you went and got food yesterday.”

“Yeah,” I admitted shamefully, “I… I stole. I don’t even remember who from, I can’t return it.”

Neville rubbed my shoulder comfortingly, “It’s okay. You are going through a lot, and you’ll never do it again, right?”

I whimpered softly, “I don’t know if I can go home, Neville.”

“One step at a time,” Neville responded firmly, “Food. Food is the first step, okay?”

I nodded and we climbed down from the building together. Neville kept his arm wrapped around my shoulder and we walked to a coffee shop. I bought us some pastries and milk and sat down with him in a small table in the corner of the shop, picking at my food slowly. I was so hungry, though, that despite my nervousness, I still ate it all. Neville ate his much faster; he spent the rest of the time I ate holding my hand and rubbing the top of it softly with his thumb. When I finished, I nodded at him, and he helped me out of my seat and lead me towards the tube station, his arm still wrapped around my shoulder.

“I assume you could… buy me a ticket?” Neville asked. I nodded and went and bought him one, the two of us getting on the train and riding the rails that I was so familiar with now.

We got off at a stop I remembered having a large library; we walked into it and Neville immediately dove towards the psychology section. I sat there, staring at my fingers nervously, as Neville pulled quite a few heavy books and brought them back to the couch I was sitting on.

“No… no, that’s not it,” Neville muttered to himself, reading the texts in front of him rapidly, “No, not _quite_ right… nah… oh that’s close… still, though, doesn’t exactly match…”

He spent a long time reading the books; I was so tired after such a long week that I was beginning to fall asleep on the _extraordinarily_ comfortable couch. In fact, I did doze off a little bit – not long enough to have a dream, but enough that Neville had to pat me on the shoulder to get me to respond to him.

“Maggie,” Neville mumbled quietly, clearly trying to not draw attention to us. I woke up slowly, looking at him questioningly.

“Why did you stop having nightmares?” Neville asked. I felt my face grow white; I swallowed heavily, my hand instinctively going into my pocket. I held the smack in my hands for a long time as Neville stared at me, waiting expectantly, as though he already knew. I then pulled it out of my pocket and handed it to him, tears coming to my eyes.

Neville stared at it for a very long time. He then took my hand and led us out of the library, back onto the street. He stared at me for a long time, now; the people were walking past us as always, but he seemed to completely not notice them.

“You have PTSD,” Neville finally said.

“What is that?” I asked quietly.

“Post-traumatic stress disorder,” Neville paused, “You’re a textbook case.”

“Oh,” I whispered.

“Everything you’ve experienced – the flashbacks, the being unable to stop thinking about it, the being triggered by the littlest reminder, the nightmares, the trouble sleeping, the feeling numb, the withdrawal from personal relationships, the self destructive behavior, the hopelessness – _everything_ – is completely normal,” Neville paused, “Even the use of drugs to self-medicate.”

“Oh,” I mumbled.

“One of the books I read described some of the drugs people used,” Neville held my bag of smack tightly; clearly he didn’t want to be seen having it in the street, “This is heroin.”

“Yes,” I answered, though it hadn’t been a question.

“This can kill you. This _will_ kill you,” Neville continued.

“Probably,” I admitted.

“You are probably already addicted,” Neville continued, “And I can understand why you’d use it to sleep.”

“Yeah,” I whispered, “It makes the nightmares go away.”

“I’m getting rid of it,” Neville responded firmly.

“What – no!” I shouted in horror, holding his hands tightly. He shook his head madly.

“I will _not_ let you kill yourself. I’m sorry. I won’t,” Neville took it – all of it, I had it all in a baggy – and threw it into the nearest bin. He then dragged me away from the library; we kept walking for ages, but I was weeping openly with fear of the nightmares that would come that night. Eventually we found another building to climb on top of; Neville grabbed the ladder on the side of the building and pulled it down, helping me up and then climbing up after me.

“Why are we up here?” I whimpered softly.

“I want us to be able to talk without anyone interrupting,” Neville paused, “Come on. Let’s sit.”

I sat down on the concrete roof, holding my knees to my chest again. Neville sat next to me, looking at me kindly.

“I’m sorry. I know that was horrible. But I don’t know what else to do about it, and I can’t watch you die,” Neville murmured.

I let out a long, hard cough; I had been holding it in for a while.

“Yeah, like that,” Neville looked shaken, “If you die… Maggie, if you die, I’ll die, okay?”

I looked at him a long time before nodding.

“I will do anything I can to help you with your nightmares,” Neville continued, “Anything. But you’re not going to be doing that stuff anymore.”

“Okay,” I whispered, “I’m… scared.”

“It’s going to be bad. I’ve read the withdrawal symptoms,” Neville groaned, “But I will be with you every step of the way.”

“Okay,” I whispered again.

“Unless you don’t want me to be,” Neville added. He didn’t look happy about it, but he must have remembered my aversion previously.

“No… no, I do…” I murmured. And I did. I already was feeling safer after a day with Neville than I had for weeks alone. Neville looked immensely relieved.

“Good,” Neville whispered, “We still don’t have to go back yet. I know it could be triggering for you.”

I nodded furiously.

“Can… can you try and tell me what happened? Once you’ve told me once, I will literally never ask you to repeat it to me again. I promise,” Neville murmured, “Just once, and then you’re done. You never have to say it again. Fuck, if you decide you want other people to know, _I’ll_ tell them for you. I’m not likely to forget it.”

I looked at him for a long time. I moved forward and rested my head on his shoulder, taking long, deep breaths. If I told him, he was right – I’d never have to tell anyone else again. And I liked that idea.

“It’s hard,” I muttered, “I’ve spent all this time trying to forget it ever happened.”

“The _moment_ you need to stop, do so,” Neville urged, “You can tell me as slowly as you need. This can even take days. I’m okay with that.”

“Okay,” I whispered. I looked at Neville for a long time.

“Do you want to hear the thing you don’t know anything about, or the thing you kind of know about?” I asked softly. _Please, the thing you kind of know about… please…_

“Let’s start with the thing I kind of know about,” Neville nodded. I let out a long breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

“I… I… in the forest,” I whimpered loudly, “I… I was briefly separated from Harry.”

“Okay,” Neville nodded.

“When… When I was…” I shut my eyes tightly. I reached out for Neville’s hand; he took it and squeezed mine tightly in his. I held his tightly for a long time, breathing slowly and steadily, hoping that I would be able to get through this.

“When I was… alone… I came across a… a b-boggart,” I whispered, “Ex… Except I didn’t… I didn’t know that it was a boggart.”

“Oh my god,” Neville whispered. He held me tighter in his arms.

“I… spent a good few minutes… th-thinking… that… that it was really…” I whimpered loudly. I was starting to feel like I was there; I was shaking madly.

“Okay, okay, okay,” Neville soothed, “You don’t have to keep going. I understand. Oh god, Maggie, I’m so sorry. No wonder you have nightmares. Oh my god,” Neville kept repeating this for a while, holding me tightly to him. I wept silently into his shirt, feeling somewhat comforted already.

“Then… then… Angelina was under the Imperius Curse… and… and… a-and…” I was stammering now. It was so hard to get this out.

“I know, she killed Zoe, Harry told us,” Neville soothed, “You don’t have to say that part.”

“N-no… it’s more than th-that…” I swallowed heavily, holding my face in my hands.

“Okay…” Neville murmured.

“I… she… sh-she…” I gasped for breath; I was having trouble getting it out.

“Okay, okay, okay,” Neville held me tighter, now wrapping both of his arms around me as tightly as they could, “You don’t have to say anything more for now. It’s okay. It’s okay. You are safe, you are safe with me, and you’re okay.”

I nodded slowly, tears leaking out of my eyes and into Neville’s shirt still. I cried into his shirt for a long time; I really couldn’t stop. Morning turned into afternoon as I cried; I knew for a fact that I was going to get hungry again soon, but I tried to ignore it. This was a good roof; I didn’t want to leave it.

“She…” I whispered after a while. Neville held me even _tighter_ , somehow.

“She p-p-put the cruciatus curse on me,” I finally stammered out.

Neville pulled back from our hug and looked at me in shock for a long minute. He then pulled me back into the hug as close as I could come and kissed the top of my head for a long, long minute. I breathed shakily; feeling his lips on the top of my head was sending swooping sensations through my stomach that I hadn’t actually felt in a very, very long time. They both terrified me and excited me beyond belief.

He finally pulled me into a full hug for a very long time, stroking my hair and soothing me softly. I cried into his chest for a long time; the sun was setting now, and my stomach growled loudly.

“Want to get food?” Neville asked. I nodded, and we climbed down from the roof, walking to a nearby pizza parlor. We both bought slices and ate them in silence, Neville actually still looking horrified. I briefly remembered – in a haze of desire to block everything from that year out – his reaction to the Cruciatus curse on the spider in fake-Moody’s classroom; also, his _knowledge_ of the curse.

 _Something happened with him and that spell_ , I thought sadly. My old mystery-solving self had perked ears at this thought; I was too tired and jaded to indulge it. If Neville ever wanted to tell me, he would. Until then, it wasn’t my job to pry.

I still ate slowly; I was so used to scrounging for every bite that I didn’t want to waste a morsel. Neville watched me do this sadly, his face filled with sorrow at what had happened to me.

I drank the rest of my water and muttered, “Let’s go back.” He nodded and we walked back up onto the roof, huddling together in the night air against the wall. He looked at me sadly, reaching out to hold my arm softly.

“Continue, if you want,” Neville offered. I nodded.

“Well… as for the task… I guess the other… bad memory… is just watching… Harry disappear… and not knowing… where he went,” I managed to check out.

“Yeah, I figured,” Neville sighed.

“That’s really it from that night, then,” I sighed, “I mean the rest of the task was… terrifying, don’t get me wrong… but those are the things that still haunt my nightmares.”

“Alright,” Neville nodded. We sat there for a long time. My heart was pounding loudly in my chest; I could feel it against the walls of my sternum, or at least, that’s what it felt like. I was shaking like mad all over.

“Do you want to tell me about the thing I don’t know about?” Neville asked, looking at me kindly. I grabbed my knees and pulled them up to my chest. I was crying again, now. Saying it to Shae had been hard enough; I hadn’t _known_ Shae for very long.

“Oh god,” I moaned quietly.

“I’m sorry. You don’t have to tell me,” Neville sighed, “Ever, if you don’t want.”

“I have to tell you,” I whimpered.

“Well, you don’t have to tonight,” Neville urged.

“I could… I could have… I could have a nightmare about it, tonight,” I responded, “I… I need you… I need you to… to understand.”

“Okay,” Neville looked fearful. He hesitated in reaching out for me; something about my position made him hold back.

“U-um… two… two nights before the task…” I gasped a shaking breath. I was already starting to get a flashback. I whimpered loudly and closed my eyes tightly, holding my legs up close to my body.

“Two nights before the task,” Neville repeated slowly.

“G… g… g…” I couldn’t get out the bastard’s name.

“George?” Neville offered, his voice already sounding deadly. I nodded, my entire body shaking furiously.

“He… he c-came… in to the library… d-d-d-d-runk,” I stammered out.

“Alright,” Neville murmured, but he still sounded deadly. I knew he had an inkling of where this was going.

“He… h-h-he… he…” I looked up at Neville desperately. He looked back at me in terror.

“What did he do to you, Maggie?” Neville asked, his voice still holding so many layers of fury, hatred, and murderousness.

“He…” I continued to look at Neville beggingly, “He… he r-raped me.”

Neville’s face remained murderous for a second before softening considerably. He looked at me for a long time. I held my knees up tighter to my chest, trying my hardest not to scream in horror.

“Maggie?” Neville asked after a long minute. I looked at him, my body shaking with… well, it had to be trauma.

“Can I hug you?” Neville asked. Tears flowed freely from my eyes as I nodded furiously. He slid over to me and held me in his arms, holding me tightly to him for a very long time. The night grew thicker as he did so; the sounds of the street below grew quieter. He just held me close to him, not even saying anything as I cried for a very long time. Eventually, I ran out of tears. I wiped my face off with my hands, sniffling quietly.

“I am so sorry,” Neville whispered, “I am so, so, so, _so_ unbelievably sorry, Maggie.”

I looked at him and nodded silently; still overwhelmed with tears.

“You have to know this,” Neville looked at me urgently, “You _have_ to know this: it is _not your fault_.”

I whimpered softly. I wasn’t convinced.

“No, Maggie, it’s not. It’s no one’s fault but _his_. No matter how it happened – no matter what the circumstances were – it was absolutely, _entirely_ **his fault** ,” Neville nodded earnestly, “Nothing about what happened was your fault in the slightest.”

“It’s… it’s really hard to feel that way…” I whispered, “Especially… because…”

“Because why?” Neville asked soothingly.

“I don’t… think h-h-h-he… knows what he did,” I managed to gasp out.

“ _How_ can he not _know_ ,” Neville hissed. The deadly anger was back in his voice; he looked like he was literally ready to kill.

“H-he… h-he… the next d-d-day… he talked to me like it was just sex,” I managed to splurt out, “H-he… was upset I didn’t _like_ it… and broke up with me.”

“Oh. My fucking. God,” Neville snarled, “I’m going to kill him. I’m going to fucking kill him. I’m going to kill him.”

“Please… please stop,” I begged. Neville looked at me and sighed heavily.

“He doesn’t deserve to _live_ , Maggie, after what he did to you, never mind deserve to have functioning limbs,” Neville hissed.

“I don’t want you to be a killer, Neville. I don’t really want anything. I just want to move on,” I murmured, “Not talking about it didn’t work, so I’m trying this.”

Neville sighed heavily, “I don’t want him to get away with this.”

“I… I don’t particularly, either, but I don’t have the energy to do anything right now,” I mumbled.

“Okay,” Neville nodded, “I understand that.” He looked at me for a long time.

“You are a wonderful, amazing person, who deserves to have only good things happen to them, and you did nothing to deserve this happening to you, and you have done nothing wrong, and you are wonderful, and deserving of so much more,” Neville urged, “ _So_ much more.”

“Okay,” I mumbled.

He looked physically torn; I knew, probably, he was wondering whether or not he should confess his feelings to me. As much as I would love to hear him say it out loud – and how close I felt to him now, more than ever – I knew I wasn’t in the right place to be with anyone at the moment.

Neville evidently thought so, too. He pulled me into another long hug, holding me tightly in his arms, rather than say anything.

“No wonder you don’t even want to come home,” Neville sighed, “Every facet of it must be triggering.”

I nodded tearfully.

“Alright. I think that’s enough story sharing for one night,” Neville paused, “You should get some sleep. I should, too, but I doubt I will.”

“Why?” I asked softly.

“I am so… so amazingly horrified by what has happened to you… that I can barely think straight,” Neville admitted, “I’m torn between my need to… to help you and care for you… and my deepest desire to go and kill that son of a bitch.”

“Please don’t kill him,” I urged, “I don’t want you to be a murderer.”

“If anyone deserves it, its him,” Neville muttered.

“I don’t care, I don’t want you to do it,” I begged.

“And I won’t. But it probably means I’ll be up all night,” Neville sighed, “It’s okay. I’m glad I’m up all night worrying over things I know about you, and not worrying over the unknown with you.”

I could understand that. I nodded, and Neville curled up awkwardly against the wall of the roof, sighing heavily.

“Well? You need to sleep,” Neville murmured. I didn’t like that I didn’t have my stuff. My hands were already shaking.

“Oh, right,” Neville sighed, “What do you need me to do? I will literally do anything. Hell, I’ll get you _alcohol_ if it’ll help… it’s better than heroin at least…”

I shook my head. He was right. I needed to be clean.

“Then what should I do? I’ll do anything,” Neville repeated.

I looked at him desperately, shaking sadly. I knew what I _thought_ would help; whether or not it actually _would_ was a huge question that I didn’t know the answer to.

“C-c-can… can you… can you hold me? While I sleep?” I asked softly.

“Really?” Neville asked in surprise, “I figured… what with what happened… you’d want space. And lots of it.”

“You’d think, but… I feel… very safe… with you,” I mumbled. Neville nodded, walking back over to me slowly. I nestled back into his arms and he wrapped them tightly around me. I put my head on his chest, and listened to his heartbeat – it was going fairly fast, and I felt bad for making him uncomfortable; I needed this. I listened until the sound eventually managed to lull me to sleep.

I woke up, though. I couldn’t avoid it. I woke up screaming at the top of my lungs from a dream about Harry being dead, gripping the gravel and Neville’s trouser leg tightly.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Neville soothed. He pulled me back to him and wiped the hair from my forehead, looking at me intensely in the darkness, “Hey. It’s going to be okay.”

I looked at him and shook my head madly, “N-no, no it’s not, Harry’s going to die, and Voldemort is going to win, and we’re _all_ going to die, and –“

“I’m not going to let that happen, alright?” Neville insisted, “Look, war is terrible, and I can’t prevent everything – but I promise, _you_ are going to be okay. I will die before I let anything happen to you.”

I cried openly, “But I don’t want anything to happen to you! I will die before I let that happen, either!”

Neville smiled softly, “Then I guess we’re both well protected.”

I whimpered quietly.

“You’re safe for now, Maggie,” Neville promised, “You’re safe. Go back to sleep.”

I nodded, curling back under his arm. If I woke up again that night, I didn’t remember it.

The next morning, however, I woke up bathed in sweat. I moaned loudly; I was not happy. I groaned loudly, feeling a large chill come over me, bathing me in cold as I shivered in my spot. Neville’s arms were still around me; I was shaking madly in them already. Everything was starting to hurt.

“Oh no,” Neville groaned. I moaned loudly, gripping his leg tightly.

“Everything hurts,” I whispered.

“Yeah, this is happening sooner than I thought – you must really have gotten dependent. Fuck,” Neville grunted, “Okay, we need to get you to a bathroom. Come on.”

I could barely move, however. I was feeling pain all over and was doubled over with it; I looked out over the city and whimpered loudly as I shook madly with the pain. I was shaking so furiously that I could barely see straight; every aspect of my vision swum before me.

“Shit. You can’t get up, can you? Shit,” Neville groaned. I looked up at him, my teeth chattering, my entire body sweating so much I felt like I had been dunked into a pool.

“Okay, okay, okay, er, okay,” Neville looked like he was panicking; he was pacing back and forth in front of me. He turned to watch me in horror as I curled up and vomited loudly on the concrete. He dove instantly, rushing behind me to grab my hair, gently stroking my back as I continued to vomit. I vomited until my stomach was completely empty; I then wretched and heaved for a good time more, still shaking madly in place.

“Oh Maggie,” Neville sighed heavily. I shook more for a while, whimpering loudly at the pain in my stomach, before falling backwards into his arms.

“I have to get you down – it’s just a ladder. I don’t… I don’t have the coordination for this!” Neville moaned, “Oh god. I don’t know what to do.”

I continued to shake madly; I didn’t really have the mental faculties to sooth him in that moment.

“Okay. I’m going to try this door,” Neville ran over to the door of the stairway that led to the roof for the building; he jiggled it for a long time before finally shouting in frustration. He then backed away from the door, glaring at it, and ran into it. The door managed to burst open, and Neville stumbled on the stairs. I watched in horror and then relief as he started to fall, but managed to grab onto the railing, heaving himself up and panting madly.

“Alright. Now we get the fuck down before anyone find us,” Neville ran over to me and picked me up in his arms, grabbing my knapsack and sprinting down the steps. We went through the whole building – it was still fairly early in the morning, so there wasn’t anyone to see us – and out onto the street, alarms blaring behind us. Neville continued to carry me for a very long time, which was extremely impressive – I wasn’t a very light person, and he wasn’t athletic.

Finally, we were far away enough from the building that Neville felt comfortable stopping to rest. He placed me on a bench and bent over, breathing heavily and gagging slightly. I felt bad, but I was also still shaking madly and getting chills, and I still felt like I had to vomit, so I had other concerns.

He took a deep breath and picked me up again, walking with me to the nearest building that wasn’t a business – in this case, another Launderette, and thankfully a twenty four hour one. He walked in quietly and rushed to the bathroom, placing me on the counter next to the sink.

“Alright,” he panted, “Let’s take care of you. Come on.”

He wet multiple paper towels and began to put them on my forehead. I moaned softly, still shaking madly, as he continued to sooth me with warm paper towels, wiping me off with more of them. It was a long morning as he continued to help me, soothing me every minute and holding me when I was shaking too violently.

“It’s going to be okay, Mags,” Neville whispered in my ear, “It’s going to be okay. _It’s going to be okay_.”

I wept openly but nodded, pressing my head tightly against his shoulder.

“I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere. I’ve got you,” Neville continued to reassure as he continued to pat me down with paper towels, “I’ve got you.”

I nodded again, pulling back and looking into his eyes. He wiped the hair from my sweaty face and held my head between both of his hands. He was crying, same as me; his eyes reflected the pain that I was feeling.

“You can do this. You _can do this_ ,” he whispered, “I know you can.”

I buried my head in his chest, crying loudly with pain. He held me for a long time, both of us stuck in this situation and unable to leave.

“This is going to take a very long time,” Neville murmured after a while. I nodded again. I was so horrified with the fact that I had gotten myself into this situation that I was clawing at my wrists with my fingers. Nothing escaped Neville’s notice, however; he held my hand away from my other wrist and looked at me intensely.

“Look. This is not your fault,” Neville urged.

I laughed humorlessly, “Is _nothing_ my fault?”

“Not this. Look, you went through something truly and horribly awful. Turning to drugs is not only understandable, it’s practically expected. But now that you’re opening up, and looking like you want to recover, it’s more important than ever that you get clean now, while you still can, okay? But that doesn’t make it your fault,” Neville whispered, “You do not deserve _any more pain_.”

I nodded. His words were so earnest; I actually believed them, though reluctantly.

“It’s going to take a long time for you to recover. But I’m going to be with you every step of the way,” Neville looked at me earnestly, “And we’re going to get through this _together_.”

“How are you going to take care of me?” I sighed, “I’m homeless.”

“No, you’re not,” Neville sighed, “But besides that. I have a plan.”

“What?” I laughed weakly, “How could you possibly have a plan?”

“I’m going to ask my Gran for help,” Neville frowned, “She has to help me.”

“How can she even help you?” I muttered.

“She’s going to help me rent a flat,” Neville said declaratively.

“What? Why would she do that?” I gasped.

“Because she… she knows things,” Neville paused, “She knows I’d do anything to help you, and she would do anything to help me do it. An apartment away from the members of the Order and the reminders of everything horrible happening? It’s perfect for you to recover from your heroin addiction without needlessly agitating the PTSD part of everything. When you’ve recovered at least partially, we can talk about you going home again.”

“Okay,” I whispered softly, _she knows you love me_ , “Okay.”

Neville sighed and rested his forehead against mine, “This is going to be hard.”

“Yeah,” I muttered, “But at least I have you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! Big progress for Maggie! Please let me know what you think!


	49. Chapter Forty - Eight: August 6 - August 7, 1995, London

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "There, there, baby 
> 
> It's just textbook stuff 
> 
> It's in the ABCs of growing up 
> 
> Now, now, darling 
> 
> Oh don't lose your head 
> 
> Cause none of us were angels 
> 
> And you know I love you, yeah." 
> 
> ~ Imogen Heap, "Speeding Cars".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning for descriptions of drug withdrawal   
> Erm... spoiler alert for the first Jurassic Park movie? Look guys, it's been twenty years, if you haven't seen it yet and don't want it to be spoiled, what the heck are you even waiting for, yeesh.

Chapter 48: August 6 – August 7, 1995, London

I spent most of that morning shivering in the bathroom of the Launderette. Once noon came around, Neville finally urged that we had to go, helping me walking out of the building and out into the street. I was still shivering like mad, my body sweating in droves. Neville pulled another sweatshirt on over my head.

“And now I understand why rehab was invented. Come on, let’s get some food, then we’ll go to the safe house and I’ll get us some help,” Neville soothed. The thought of trying to keep food down right now was laughable, but I went with him anyway. We went to another grocery and he bought me ginger ale and bread. He bought himself more bread, cheese, and an orange. We sat down on a bench outside and ate quietly; well, he ate. I picked at my food slowly, trying to get it to stay down. He finished long before I had even made a dent in the bread; he wrapped an arm around my shoulder and pressed his forehead into the side of my face, murmuring softly in my ear.

I managed to pick off a third of the loaf of bread; Neville was satisfied with this. He wrapped it up in towels and stuck it in the grocery bag, letting me hold the ginger ale (which I had drunken half of). We got on the tube and the initial jolt forward made me nauseous again; I held my mouth in my hands and Neville rubbed my back anxiously.

“We just have to get to the safe house, then I’ll get us help, it’s going to be okay, Maggie, I promise,” Neville soothed softly. I nodded into my hand, focusing on anything that wasn’t how nauseous I felt.

We eventually got off at the edge of the city; we were in the part of town where people lived in actual houses, rather than flats or council estates. Sure, they were all cramped together, but there were multiple floors and plenty of rooms in all of them; much bigger than anything you could get further towards the center. I looked around in amazement at the rows of identical houses, still bathed in sweat and shivering in my wet clothes. Neville sighed heavily at my appearance and continued to urge me through the street, past numbers nine, ten, and eleven. The next house, however, was number thirteen.

“Where’s number twelve?” I asked quietly.

Neville shook his head imperceptibly; I knew he couldn’t tell me because of the secret-keeper. I nodded in understanding and sat down on a bench, huddling into a ball as I shook madly.

“Merlin, I don’t want to leave you out here alone,” Neville groaned, “You promise you’ll stay? Please, Maggie. I don’t want you out there alone again. You won’t survive when you’re like this.”

I nodded; truth be told, I didn’t want to leave him at all, now that I was used to him again.

“Alright, good. Now… I’m going to tell them you have PTSD. I’m not going to tell them everything about your traumatic experiences, I’m just going to say there’s more that you couldn’t tell everyone, and still aren’t comfortable with everyone knowing,” Neville murmured. I nodded in agreement, still shaking from head to toe.

“I’m also going to tell them you got addicted… I know, I’m sorry,” Neville sighed at my horrified expression, “But look, if you just had PTSD, they could make a case that you should try to come home. The addiction means that you can’t even _begin_ to cope with your flashbacks and anxiety and depression over everything else without first coping with that. They’ll understand that. Also, the longer I can keep you away form that vile animal, the happier I’ll be. As it is I can’t fully promise I won’t try to kill him on sight,” Neville hissed.

“H-he’s in there?” I gasped, my breaths turning into shrieks.

“I said all of Harry’s close associates, didn’t I? That includes the entire Weasley clan,” Neville frowned, “Oh God, I’m sorry, I thought that was implied.”

“I-I-I guess I should have figured it out, I just… didn’t want to think about him _at all_ ,” I mumbled.

“No, of course you shouldn’t have figured that out. Fuck. I’m sorry. You shouldn’t come home at all. For now I’ll fight for a brief time away while you recover and then I’ll try to fight till we go back to school… you are going back to school, right?” Neville asked, shock appearing on his face.

“I… don’t know,” I mumbled. I still had my book list in my bag.

“On the one hand, you’ll be safest at Hogwarts, and frankly, I don’t think _I_ can get away with not going; so I can’t stay here with you. On the other hand, _he’ll_ be there…” Neville groaned, holding his face in his hands.

“I should go back to school,” I whispered. I couldn’t be alone again; certainly not for that long.

“Then we’re going to have to figure out how to avoid him. At any rate, for now, I should go inside,” Neville sighed, “You’re going to be okay out here?”

“I… no, but you have to go,” I mumbled. Neville sighed and kissed me on the forehead again, before walking towards the boundary between numbers eleven and thirteen.

I shivered violently in the seat and watched him go sadly; when he disappeared completely, I felt sobs come out of my body that I wasn’t exactly okay with. I felt terribly alone again, like when I had been on the streets; furthermore, being in withdrawal made me feel even more vulnerable. I huddled up into a tighter ball and sobbed loudly into my knees. I was so terrified I didn’t know how to think clearly anymore.

I was out there for a long time. No one really passed me, and I fortunately didn’t have to vomit. Instead I just shook and cried, hoping to everything that may or may not exist in the universe that Neville would come back sooner rather than later. Eventually, just as my eyes were drooping with exhaustion, I heard footsteps approach me. I looked up to see Neville and his gran, Neville reaching out for me kindly. His gran also had a very compassionate expression on her face, something that wasn’t exactly the usual thing for her. He was wearing a knapsack of his own, now.

“Don’t worry, Maggie, I’m going to help you both find a place to live,” she soothed. I nodded and Neville helped me out of the bench, holding me as we walked out to the tube again. His gran was silent the entire ride until finally we reached a series of flat buildings in the center of the city. We continued to walk in a rush towards a specific building, which didn’t seem to have anything odd about it.

“W-where are we going?” I whispered. Neville shook his head imperceptibly as we walked up the stairs of the building – for some reason, his gran had a key already. We then went inside of a flat on a high floor, which was already furnished, and dusty as hell – it looked like no one had been in here in years.

“What is this place?” I asked quietly.

“My son’s old flat,” his Gran answered immediately. I looked at her in shock, my brain unable to process this.

“Yes, well, Neville has told me he will tell everyone when he is ready. At any rate, yes, I’ve kept it all these years, even when… what happened happened and I needed to take in Neville. The rent wasn’t terrible, and you never know when you might need something like this. My son and his wife lived here until Neville was one,” his Gran continued, “Then… well, then I had to take Neville in. We have a cottage out near Leeds. Much more normal for wizards. Still, my son liked the city, and it _was_ very convenient.”

I was shocked by the amount of news I had just received. My shivers turned violent again.

“Great, Gran, when can we get the place secret-kept?” Neville stated impatiently.

“The moment I get back to Grimmauld Place. I’ll keep the secret that you two live here, and that this place exists. It was secret kept when my son lived here but I got rid of that when… well, yes. Shouldn’t be too hard. Since it was unused, the landlord won’t notice any difference in utilities… and now I can stop paying rent, more to the point,” his Gran paused, “You both should have everything you need here to live for a while. The utilities should work even though it’s secret kept – electricity, water, central cooling, everything. Yes… Here is some gold from me for food,” she handed Neville some galleons, “You can get them exchanged at Gringotts. And here are my spare keys,” she handed Neville two keys, “Alright. Good luck… I’ll see you both soon.” And then she left in a rush, and was gone. I looked at Neville, overwhelmed with shock.

“She had to think about all this stuff last time she was a secret keeper for this place,” Neville muttered, “Sorry… I just don’t want to try and explain it all when you’re like this.”

I nodded, my teeth chattering somewhat. Neville sighed heavily.

“Here, your mum gave me some gold for you. She says she’s okay with this as long as you go back to Hogwarts, so you need to use this for _books_ , okay?” Neville urged. I nodded and took the galleons, sticking them in my knapsack.

“I also have – here,” Neville dug into his bag and pulled out a pile of clothes, “Some clothes for you. I obviously have more clothes for me.”

I nodded again, looking around at the flat. It was exceptionally dusty. The room we were in was a small kitchen, with a four-person table next to the counters and fridge. The counter surface area was small, but there was a microwave, which I thought was odd for wizards. There was also a small TV that decidedly looked like it was from the seventies on the other side of the room, where there was a couch and a bookshelf. There were two doors on the other side of the room, one presumably for the bathroom, the other for the bedroom. The entire space couldn’t have been bigger than my bedroom at home, _including_ the bedroom and bathroom.

“Guess I should clean up,” Neville sighed, “Let’s go over to the bed… I’ll dust it off so you can lie on it while I keep cleaning the rest of the place.”

“Why did your parents live here?” I asked quietly, “Your family doesn’t seem poor…”

“My dad liked the city,” Neville answered simply, “Believe it or not, this is quite expensive, especially for where we are. We are right next to the Ministry, too, so he just had to walk to work. Mum also worked there. It was very convenient, and they liked being able to get anywhere in the city for almost no money or time… and it is so out of the way, and so completely invisible even without being secret kept, that they figured they were safe.”

 _Obviously they were wrong, though_ , I thought sadly. Still, I didn’t want to push the issue.

“At any rate, the place is so old now that no one will guess we’re here. Gran isn’t the type of woman to keep this place, but she didn’t have the heart to get rid of it,” Neville shrugged.

“How… did the landlord not notice a place disappearing and then coming back?” I asked quietly.

“Just slips his mind. That’s what usually happens with secret-kept homes. Police, landlords, mailmen, they all just forget that the place exists. Like forgetting where you leave your keys on the table or something. They then remember when the spell is lifted, like nothing happened. Magic, right?” Neville rolled his eyes and opened the door to the bedroom. There was a queen-sized bed, unmade, as though people had left in a hurry; there was still a layer of dust on top of it. There was a cradle next to the bed, as well, with a mobile of dragons above it. That also had a layer of dust. There was a dresser and a mirror, and I didn’t like looking into it. I didn’t like the way I looked.

“So… this is where you lived, huh?” I asked quietly.

“Yeah,” Neville muttered. I limped over to the cradle. Inside of it was a teddy bear; it looked dusty and a little sad as a result. I picked it up and looked at it.

“Please put that down,” Neville grunted as he wiped off all the dust from the bed with his arms, coughing as a cloud of it went up into the air.

“Have you ever been here since then?” I asked.

“Once, when I was eight. Gran needed some papers about me,” Neville coughed, now shaking out all the sheets.

I could tell I wasn’t getting anything more out of him. I watched silently as he finished shaking out the blankets, opening the window slightly so the dust could go out into the street.

“Will we know when the spell is on?” I questioned softly.

“Gran will come back,” Neville nodded, “It shouldn’t be long, now. She wouldn’t want to leave us here unprotected.” He looked at the bed and nodded in satisfaction, motioning for me to lie down on it. I did so, curling up in the blankets, so exhausted from everything that had happened that the mere act of lying down on a bed was going to send me off to sleep. Neville seemed to be able to tell, and he pulled some of the blankets over my head as I quickly drifted off to sleep.

I woke up, I didn’t know how much later, to a bad nightmare, about the library. I screamed loudly into my pillow, tears flowing heavily from my eyes and I cried out, my entire body shaking like mad. I heard footsteps rush towards me; I looked up to see Neville looking at me in worry, his hand on my head.

“You have a fever. Of course,” Neville sighed, “Nightmare?”

I nodded, feeling like I was going to hurl again. I stumbled to my feet and past him, going into the dusty bathroom and heaving into the toilet. Neville followed me and held my hair back again.

“It’s okay, Maggie… it’s okay,” he soothed quietly. I finished heaving long after everything was gone, resting my forehead against the ledge of the toilet for a long time before standing up.

“Gran came back, the spell is done. After she did that I also went and got groceries,” Neville explained, “Look, you know what you need?”

I shook my head, shrugging.

“A shower. Here, I’ll clean it out, and then leave you be; I’ve finished up the kitchen living room area, I can tackle the rest of the bedroom while you’re doing that,” Neville urged.

“Do you have shampoo?” I mumbled, “Conditioner? _Soap?_ ”

“Yes, yes, and yes,” Neville nodded, “Remember I spent the summer at your place last year? I remembered what you use. It’s all in the groceries out in the kitchen.”

I went out to the grocery bags; the room _was_ considerably cleaner now. The windows were open, presumably to let all the dust out. I pulled out the conditioner, shampoo, and soap in amusement; Neville had the worst memory ever, but he remembered things about me to exact detail. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t figured out how he felt about me until nearly a year ago.

When I came back, Neville had finished wiping off the bathroom; he stuck a towel on the rack and nodded at me. I smiled weakly and closed the door after him, getting in and taking a shower joyfully. The mere act of cleaning my hair made me weep with joy. It was the first time I had really felt _anything_ akin to joy in a long time. I had gotten close at Crystal Palace, and then at the Museum; but this was deeper than that. I got out of the shower and pulled on my pajamas, wanting to be as comfortable as possible. I still felt ill all over. I then left the bathroom and walked outside to see Neville waiting for me in the kitchen.

“Did that go okay? Did you get sick again? Did you have the energy to do that, did –“ Neville started rambling. I smiled slightly, and the sight must have sent him into shock, as he stopped talking.

“It went perfectly fine. Thank you,” I whispered. Neville nodded and leapt up to help me sit down on the couch. For all of Neville’s cleaning, a cloud of dust still went up as we sat down.

“Wouldn’t have killed Gran to clean this place once in a while. And she has bloody _magic_ ,” Neville muttered in annoyance. I let out a choked laugh; the sound felt so foreign in my ears. Neville hugged me tightly in what I could only assume was joy.

“Do you want to watch the telly? Uh… I dunno… we could talk? But you’re probably all talked out…” Neville was rambling endlessly and I couldn’t help myself. I found it extremely adorable.

“Can you tell me what happened when you told everyone?” I asked softly. Neville looked at me and nodded.

“It… wasn’t _too_ bad. I mean they all completely understood. Your mum was pretty upset about the drugs… honestly, everyone was upset about the drugs. But I argued pretty fiercely about how it’s a pretty typical response to your situation, especially when something so horrible happens to you that you don’t want to tell anyone. And I mean, I couldn’t tell them _what_ had happened that was so terrible that none of them already knew… like they were trying to figure it out and Harry told them all about finding the boggart in the woods and the cruciatus curse bit, which I was a bit peeved over, as I started out by saying you weren’t ready to talk about it all yet, but Harry did point out that if it was just all of that, then you should have been able to talk to him without describing all the traumatic experiences, so they all reasoned that there had to be something else…” Neville sighed heavily.

“You didn’t tell them, right?” I whispered.

“Of course not. I admitted there _was_ something else, not connected to the task, but you couldn’t talk about it. I said you had a mental breakdown just telling _me_. So they all backed off about it. They wish you could talk to them all about it, but I kept fighting that you couldn’t… I was pretty insistent about it. I don’t want you to get pressured into situations you’re not ready for just because they all don’t _understand_. Anyway, the great bastard from hell still looked confused, so I don’t think he has any idea _still_. And I explained how I thought we should go about bringing you… back to reality, so to speak, and I essentially argued that this was the way for a while, until finally your mum gave in. Harry and Hermione were the least happy about it all, but I don’t want you to have any more huge encounters yet. You need to get over your addiction, at least in part, before we can tackle interpersonal relationships,” Neville shook his head, “I just hope they will understand that.”

I nodded. I still felt very ill all over, and I had to get up and run to the bathroom to heave up nothing. Neville followed me silently again, soothing me quietly until I finished. I looked at him and felt tears fall out of my eyes.

“You’re going to be okay,” he repeated softly, “You’re going to be okay.”

I threw my arms around him and held to him tightly, sobbing heavily, my body shaking like mad. He helped me off the ground and lifted me up again, carrying me back to the bedroom and setting me down gently.

“How late is it?” I asked softly. I was feeling sleepy against the pillow again.

“Not terribly, but if you need sleep you should get it. This is just a really bad flu, okay?” Neville looked at me intensely, “Just a very bad flu. You’ll get over it and it’ll all be okay again.”

“I just… don’t want to sleep without you,” I mumbled softly. Neville’s eyes softened even more, which was strange, as they had already been pretty soft.

“Alright. I just need to dress, one mo’,” Neville agreed, grabbing some clothes he had stuck in a drawer and walking into the bathroom. I forced myself to stay awake, staring at the nightstand. It was still covered in dust; Neville evidently hadn’t thought to clean it. He walked back in then and climbed in next to me, wrapping his arms tightly around me. I nestled between him and the covers, and soon enough fell asleep.

I had nightmares again; now I was under the curse. I woke up panting heavily and wanting to scream, but being in the bed, next to Neville, quickly reminded me where I was. I looked over at him. It was very dark outside; dark enough that everyone must have been asleep. And sure enough, so was he; he was snoring softly in my ear. I looked at him for a long time, watching his chest rise and fall with his breathing, and the little hairs above his mouth move as he exhaled. I leaned over and kissed him on the cheek before curling back up and falling asleep again, feeling safer than I had in nearly two months.

I didn’t wake up again until morning; when I did, he was still there. I looked over to see he was awake, staring at the ceiling. I swallowed and sat up; I still felt like I had a horrible fever, and I was shaking pretty bad in my spot.

“Good morning,” I mumbled softly. Neville looked at me, not startled that I was awake.

“Morning,” he paused for a long time, “You didn’t scream last night.”

“Well, I woke up somewhere that wasn’t the streets, and you were there, so I quickly figured that I wasn’t somewhere dangerous,” I shrugged, “So I just fell back asleep.”

“That’s good. I’m really, _really_ glad I can help,” Neville sighed. He was still staring at the ceiling.

“It can’t be easy for you to be back here,” I muttered. Neville shook his head slowly.

“No… I… erm… I had my traumatic experience when I was an infant,” Neville sighed, “I can’t talk about it right now. I have _never_ been able to, to anyone. It’s not you, Maggie, it really isn’t. I even _want_ to tell you. But I just can’t. Anyway… it means I do have the vaguest memories of this place. Being here is… not ideal.”

“If you want to leave, we can. Just say the word,” I urged, sitting up hurriedly and looking at him, “I don’t want to compromise your mental health for my own.”

“I don’t want you on the streets, and I’m not having flashbacks or anything. Frankly I’m fine. It’s just weird,” Neville shook his head; “This is the best place for you right now. I refuse to leave it.”

“Alright,” I sighed, “Thank you. For everything. I don’t deserve all of this.”

“You deserve only the most wonderful things in the world happening to you,” Neville shook his head, “I refuse to hear anything to the contrary. Come on, we better try to get some food into your stomach.”

I let him help me out of bed and limp with me into the kitchen. I sat down and stared out the window; there was a good view of the street below, and all the people walking along it. Neville came back over to me and brought a bowl of porridge, setting it in front of me. He had two pieces of cinnamon toast.

“Eat,” he instructed, nodding at me. I forced the food down, enjoying the fact that it had actual flavor (apples), still not enjoying how my stomach felt. I ate it very slowly, letting each morsel go down and settle for a long time, and drinking lots of water as I did so.

“Yes, you need to have more fluids than you were getting. I don’t want to see you without a cup of water nearby,” Neville ordered. I laughed quietly, still trying to get the porridge down.

“Why are you doing all of this for me?” I asked softly. I knew _why_ , but in that moment I wanted to hear him say it. I wanted him to tell me. I _needed_ him to tell me. I knew he wouldn’t, but I had to try.

“Because you’re my best friend,” Neville answered instantaneously, “And I care deeply about you.”

I nodded silently. Of course he wouldn’t tell me.

“You’re my best friend, too,” I whispered, “And I care deeply about you.”

I looked at him intensely; Neville’s eyes had a similar expression. It was hard to not feel like this when I had spent the entire night in his arms. I felt more intimate with him than I had ever felt with anyone else, ever.

“Well, it’s good to know that if I were ever in this situation, you’d do the same for me,” Neville nodded, eating his toast.

“Of course I would. That goes without saying,” I whispered.

“Sorry,” Neville sighed, “I just… I can’t pretend I wasn’t hurt when you didn’t write to me this summer, even though I know now why.”

I frowned greatly, “I’m sorry, Nev.”

“It’s not your fault. You were just trying to cope,” Neville shook his head, “I didn’t have a right to be upset.”

“You didn’t know I wasn’t in control, though!” I protested, coughing somewhat, “It’s not your fault you were upset! As it was, I felt really bad about it. I didn’t like that I couldn’t write back. I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.”

“Well, I forgive you,” Neville looked at me for a while, “Really, I do.”

“I don’t deserve it,” I mumbled, feeling tears come to my eyes again. I held my face in my hands as I felt more sobs wash over me, holding my knees up to my chest and crying against my body. I heard Neville get up and come running up next to me, holding me tightly against him again.

“You didn’t do anything wrong. You’re okay. It’s not your fault, I promise,” Neville soothed into my ear. I whimpered loudly and looked up at him desperately.

“I am a horrible person, who deserves no one,” I gasped through my tears, “I should go. I should go again.” I tried to stand up but Neville held me back.

“No. No, you are _not_ going out there again. You don’t deserve to be alone and on your own, okay? You are a wonderful person, who deserves to have the people around you care about you, and you do. I care about you. Your family cares about you. Your friends care about you. We all care about you because you are a joy in all of our lives, I swear on everything I hold dear,” Neville looked at me desperately, holding me by both of my arms. I nodded, still crying heavily.

“Oh Maggie,” Neville sighed desperately, pulling me in for a very long hug as I cried into his shoulder. I was feeling nauseous again, but I knew I needed food, so I tried to keep it down. I sobbed heavily into his shoulder for a long time until I ran out of tars and the nausea had passed.

“We should do something. An activity! One of your hobbies!” Neville urged, “We need to distract you from everything. You’ve been forced to think about it all a lot since I found you. That’s my fault. You’ve spent the summer looking for distractions – let’s look for healthy ones, together.”

“Like what?” I laughed weakly.

“Let’s see a movie!” Neville gasped, “Come on, it has nothing to do with the Wizarding world, we have some money, there could be something good out – let’s go!”

“Do you even know where there _is_ a movie theater?” I snorted.

“We’ll ask around – say we just moved here – it’s an accurate statement. Come on, let’s go! Get dressed!” Neville urged.

“Nev, I’m still sick,” I sighed.

“Yes, but you’re either going to shiver here, or shiver somewhere else, and _I_ think it would be good for you to do something that will distract you – like a movie! We’re going,” Neville urged.

“I don’t think I should leave the flat, though,” I mumbled, “What if I throw up again?”

“Well, there is that,” Neville groaned, “Wait – could we watch a movie here? You’ve watched movies on your own – with those little tape things – VHS tapes? That thing?”

“Yeah, but I have a VCR at home,” I laughed, “Do you here?”

Neville looked at the telly – it was very small, and had no VCR to speak of.

“We’re going shopping!” Neville declared.

“Nev, those things are pretty expensive,” I laughed, “Don’t we need the money for food?”

“We have plenty – Gran gave me loads, she doesn’t know the exchange rate. While you slept yesterday I also made the switch,” Neville pulled out a huge wad of muggle notes; I felt my mouth drop open.

“Holy dragons,” I whispered in amazement.

“Oh yeah – I want to know the story behind your animagus form, but that’s for another time,” Neville pointed at me accusingly, “Come on. We’ll go to a store and buy a VCR thingy – get some movies – hell, I’ll buy us a better telly if we have the money for it.”

I laughed, “We should really save all of that.”

“No, we’re going to have a movie night, I think it’s just what you need. Come on,” Neville urged, “Get dressed! I will too – crap, there’s only one bedroom – let me grab my stuff and I’ll go into the bathroom, one sec,” Neville dashed into the bedroom. He was clearly trying to be cheerful and upbeat for my benefit, which I appreciated. Once again, he was acting positively adorable.

He left the bedroom quickly enough, carrying a pile of clothes into the bathroom. I sluggishly made my way to the room myself and got dressed, just putting on a sweatshirt and jeans, too sick-feeling to wear anything else. I walked back outside and Neville grabbed my hand, pulling me out of the flat and locking the door behind him.

I groaned loudly as he dragged me down the streets of London, until finally we found an electronics shop. He went inside and asked excitedly for a VCR, discussing models and the compatibility with the very old television set in the flat. I looked around the shop quietly, trying very hard to not look like I was ill. Eventually, Neville bought a good but compatible player, and we left the shop quickly out onto the street in front of us.

“Okay – I want to get us some movies. Things that we will _enjoy_. I know you already own Jurassic Park but it’s not here with us – I’ll buy another copy. Come on,” Neville grinned. He was very good at acting excited for me. I was more than amused at this point.

We eventually wandered around until we found a video store – Neville was grunting with the effort of carrying the VCR, which I found extremely amusing. We went inside and Neville set down the player, panting heavily.

“Just – pick some movies you know we’d both like – I’ll catch my breath over here, thanks,” Neville groaned. I smirked at him and wandered through the video store, pulling titles quietly. It wasn’t a rental place, but a shopping place, which I was fine with. I didn’t feel like having to return anything.

I grabbed _Jurassic Park, Free Willy, Monty Python and the Holy Grail, The Lion King, Prehysteria!, Baby: Secret of the Lost Legend, Hocus Pocus,_ and _The Land Before Time._ I bought them all and quite a few bags of popcorn before leaving with Neville, watching in amusement as he continued to insist on carrying the player on his own.

“You’re – going through – withdrawal,” he grunted as we stumbled back towards the flat. I snorted loudly, though he wasn’t wrong – I was shaking all over and trying to hide it by burying my whole body deeper into my sweatshirt. Eventually we managed to make it back up the stairs and I collapsed on the couch, breathing heavily.

“See?” Neville was still panting, “You’re ill. I would have had you stay here, but I knew you’d know the movies better than me.”

I rolled my eyes and curled up under a throw blanket that had been on the couch, shaking madly. I was sweating again, and wasn’t very pleased about it. Neville spent a little while fumbling with the player and getting it to hook up to the telly, but eventually he succeeded, grabbing the _Jurassic Park_ tape eagerly.

“I want to see what this movie is all about. You’ve only ever gushed about it, never shown me it. Erm… I don’t know how to use the microwave to make popcorn,” Neville admitted sheepishly.

“You are a pure-blood who was raised by another pure-blood,” I snorted, “Of course you don’t. Here,” I got up and went to the microwave, making sure not to burn it, as Neville figured out how to put in the VHS tape and waited eagerly back on the couch.

“I must have really talked up this movie,” I commented in amusement as I brought back the popcorn.

“Are you kidding? You talk about it all the time. You just do it without think about it so you never _know_ you’re doing it,” Neville snorted, “Let’s watch!”

Neville already was having trouble with the movie – he freaked out during the first scene, as the guard was getting dragged into the cage by the raptor; gripping my arm tightly, I couldn’t help but laugh at his face.

“What – is that guy okay – oh my god!” Neville gasped.

“Neville, it’s a _movie_. The dinosaurs are things people made – puppets, sort of – that they move with electricity. The people in the movie are _actors_ , they don’t actually have anything bad happen to them – they just pretend, like in a play,” I snorted. Neville glared at me, but he looked sheepish (knowing he had been acting silly) as he sat back and watched as the scientists got to the island.

“Woah!” he gasped as the _Brachiosaurus_ came on screen, “That’s a puppet?”

“Well, that’s animation, but… sure,” I didn’t feel like explaining it.

“It looks so real! Wow! We practically don’t need your Gran’s transfiguration stuff!” Neville laughed.

“Okay, that’s an exaggeration,” I rolled my eyes, eating the popcorn slowly. Neville loved the stuff; he practically shoved it into his mouth, spilling crumbs all over the floor. He was too distracted by the movie, though, to really pay attention. It was the absolute cutest thing I had ever seen in my entire life.

“Okay, what’s going to happen to the _Triceratops_? Is it going to be okay? What made it ill?” Neville said all of this very fast, between handfuls of popcorn.

“It’s a _puppet_ ,” I repeated, laughing, “Neville, it’s not _alive_.”

“Right,” Neville looked completely embarrassed now, his whole face turning red. I coughed loudly and drank large gulps of water, trying to keep myself hydrated as I shook and sweat madly. Neville was very caught up in the movie; he barely paid attention to how sick I still was. I didn’t mind, actually; I wanted him to be this excited about it.

“Holy crap! Holy crap! No, no, don’t use the flare – oh my god no – not the kids! Holy shit!” Neville was shouting at the top of his lungs as the _Tyrannosaurus_ escaped its pen and ate the lawyer, before turning on the kids, and then getting distracted by Malcolm’s flare. He was so caught up in it that I couldn’t help laughing out loud, doubled over as I laughed hysterically.

“Shit! Shit! Shit!” Neville continued to shout as Alan and the kids only just managed to get away. I snorted loudly and held my face in my hands, shaking with pure amusement for once instead of chills.

“No – don’t go looking for the _T. rex_ , are you completely mental – no, no, oh good they found Malcolm – and the rex is coming back for them – oh no,” Neville groaned. His commentary was literally the best thing I had ever heard in my entire life.

“The _T. rex_ is named collectively by fans as Gulper, by the way,” I commented as the _T. rex_ chased Ellie, Muldoon, and Malcolm in the car.

“Why would you name it – holy shite! Drive faster! What the hell are you doing!” Neville screamed at the screen.

“Neville, it’s a _movie_ ,” I urged again, but I was extremely amused as Neville held his knees up to his chest and watched with wide eyes as the people got away.

“I have never been more terrified in my entire life!” Neville squeaked.

“That _cannot_ be true!” I roared with laughter. I was having so much fun, I could almost forget how terrible I felt physically and mentally.

“Oh it is – it definitely is – oh no, are Alan and the kids going to be okay while they sleep – oh no,” Neville moaned.

“They’re _fine._ They also _aren’t real_ ,” I positively giggled.

“Until this movie is over they are real to me!” Neville retorted.

As the kids and Alan ran with the flock of _Gallimimus_ , Neville was hanging on the edge of his seat, cheering for them to get away. His mouth dropped open as Gulper came out and grabbed one of them, eating it happily.

“This – is so – cool!” Neville breathed.

“I am so happy with your reactions right now,” I laughed.

“Shh shh shh!” Neville hissed, leaning on his knees and watching eagerly, “The raptors are out! You never shut up about raptors!”

“The movie raptors aren’t _real –_ “ But Neville was waving me off with his hand.

“I know they aren’t accurate – shush!”

“Okay – Ellie, no, don’t turn on the fence – Ellie, let them get out – _Ellie, stop, Ellie –_ “ Neville shouted at the TV, “ _Noooo!_ ” I held my face in my hands to hide how much I was laughing. Neville then screamed at the top of his lungs as the raptor lunged at Ellie; he leapt behind the couch, only his eyes and nose peering over the back of it as Ellie had to run away.

“Neville, the raptors are in the screen, they literally _cannot_ get you,” I managed to get out between my literal shrieks of laughter. Neville shook his head furiously behind the couch.

“I’m staying here!” he squeaked.

And there he stayed during the entire kitchen scene, except he was so scared he reached out and gripped my shoulder tightly, shouting every time the raptors got anywhere near the kids. Well, I say he shouted – he was really squeaking with terror.

“Neville, come on, you want to be out from behind the couch for the end – nothing in the movie is going to hurt you, come on,” I urged as Lex managed to hack into the computer and get everything back online. Neville looked at me mistrustfully, but managed to crawl out and sit next to me again, reaching out and holding my hand tightly and still squeaking with terror as the kids and the scientists ran away from the raptors through the fossils, and were cornered by them on all sides.

“Bloody Hell!” Neville shouted as Gulper showed up out of nowhere, reaching down to take out the raptors. He gasped and started clapping excitedly as Gulper saved the humans, them running out to the car and leaving the island. At the final scene with the birds flying alongside them, he clapped louder.

“Oh my god, that was the best thing – that was so amazing – can we watch it again? I want to watch it again,” Neville was bouncing in his seat happily. I looked at him in amusement.

“We have a bunch of other movies, Nev –“

“Mags, that was the _best thing ever._ I want to watch it a million times!” Neville was practically squealing with happiness.

“We can’t watch it a million times, that would break the tape –“

“Can we watch it again, though? Please? I was so scared the whole time I didn’t get to pay full attention to it – _please?_ ” Neville begged.

“Oh all right,” I laughed, rewinding the tape and watching it with him again. Now he cheered at many parts and wasn’t nearly as scared, and it was still very amusing to watch him bounce up and down with excitement and anticipation. I got up while he watched and managed to make some spaghetti for dinner, my stomach still churning with nausea but doing a little better now that I had drunken plenty of water. When the movie finished, Neville ran over and ate eagerly, gushing entirely too much about the movie.

“Oh man, when Gulper came in and saved everybody – that’s the best part, obviously – but when she’s chasing the car, that was pretty scary. I love the raptors, too, but man they’re terrifying, I wouldn’t want them to actually exist – they never did, right? That’s what you told me, right?” Neville was shoveling food into his mouth again, his cheeks filled with the pasta.

“Yeah, real _Velociraptor_ were like a third of the size, and based on Gran’s work, covered in feathers. They also weren’t that smart,” I nodded.

“Didn’t you say – once – they found something that _was_ that big?” Neville gasped in realization, looking at me in terror.

“Erm – yeah, _Utahraptor_ , but it still wasn’t that smart,” I shook my head sadly.

“ _Good_. I don’t even want the _chance_ of encountering one of those things. Unless I know it won’t hurt me or anything. Right – speaking of dangerous animals,” Neville looked at me intensely.

“Yes?” I smirked, “I’ll have you know I haven’t bitten anyone in… well… less than a month. Shite,” I groaned.

“Yeah, what’s up with your animagus form? How did that happen? Also, what did you do the whole month while you were in Chicago – Harry says he never saw you, or at least, hardly ever saw you,” Neville frowned.

I groaned softly, “Okay, so… after everything that happened with… the great bastard; literally, the day after; I ran out. I was really scared, I almost ran away then.”

“Understandable,” Neville nodded.

I coughed loudly, “Well, I ran into… erm… the dragon that saved Harry and me second year.”

“That’s… terrifying,” Neville frowned.

“Well, I was kind of – despairing – so I sort of shouted at her to eat me. And I kept shouting. And I was so emotional that I transformed into my animagus form at last. And I didn’t transform back right away… so… I guess feeling that broken kind of did it, or something?” I mumbled.

“That is a horrible way to look at it. I think you could have gotten there without something terrible happening to you,” Neville grunted angrily, that deadly look flashing in his eyes again.

“Yes, well, turns out the dragon is named Herin, and we had a nice conversation in which she gave me the strength I needed to go back and help Harry in the task… and then it didn’t last _after_ the task, but whatever,” I shrugged.

“Pretty cool that you can talk to dragons, now, though,” Neville frowned.

“That’s not even half of it – apparently during the last war, dragons nearly went extinct. Voldemort and his pals would hunt them for fun; the giants especially enjoy killing them for sport. And by extinct, I mean extinct in Britain,” I explained.

“That’s terrible,” Neville groaned.

“Well, Herin doesn’t want that to happen again. So… well, the first half of when I was in Chicago, I kind of went whole-hog bad. I went out to clubs, I drank, I did smack, I…” I choked on the words.

“What?” Neville asked softly, “Mags, I’m not going to judge you. I can’t even begin to imagine what you were going through.”

“I… slept around. A lot,” I mumbled softly, my cheeks coloring furiously.

Neville looked at me in shock, “Really?”

“Yeah,” I sighed, tears coming to my eyes again, “I kind of figured… if I _had_ to have sex with people, whether I like it or not… I… erm… might as well be in control.”

Neville frowned horrifically, looking sadder than I had seen him yet.

“Maggie, you don’t have to have sex at all. You don’t have to have sex with anyone, or do anything sexual. You don’t have to be in a relationship at all, or ever date anyone, or end up with anyone. You are a wonderful human, and you can do anything you want, as long as it makes you happy – and doesn’t, like, maliciously hurt people. You also can sleep around, and date loads of people, if that’s what you want. Again, it’s your choice. But you have a _choice_ ,” Neville urged, “You do not _have_ to have sex, ever, if you don’t want to.”

I nodded, tears falling out of my eyes in droves. Neville reached across the table and held my hand tightly.

“I-I… it was fun, for a little while. I enjoyed having… what felt like _power,_ again. But I don’t want that forever, no,” I sniffled, “It’s not for me.”

“Alright,” Neville nodded.

 _I want you_.

“I think… I’m… I think I will be ready to just… have a meaningful relationship with one person… eventually,” I sniffled, “I’m probably not in the right place for it right now. And I will _really_ need to trust the person in question.”

“Obviously,” Neville snorted, “And I will probably vet them. A lot. And threaten them with physical violence if they hurt you.”

“I appreciate that,” I smiled weakly, _and since I really hope it’ll end up being you, the point should be moot._

Neville reached out for me again, holding both of my hands in his, “And if you never find someone, I promise you, you’ll never be alone.”

I nodded rapidly, reaching out and giving him a long hug. He held me tightly in his arms, and I was very tempted to bite the bullet and tell him how I felt – but it really wasn’t the time. Not yet. I was still going through withdrawal, though I was getting used to the symptoms now. And then there was the whole fact that I was _crazy_.

“Anyway, that’s what you did for a little while. Then what?” Neville asked.

“I sort of… got told to stop. See, Herin wanted me to meet some American wizards. They do things differently over there,” I paused, “They… they don’t tame dragons. That’s not what they do. They… work with them. They treat dragons with respect, like people – well, they really _are_ people. They team up with dragons as things called Riders, and then dragon animagi like me – very common over there – are called Halflings. And Riders, Dragons and Halflings make up their police and military – not _all_ of them are in it, but everyone in the police and military are Halflings, Riders or Dragons. And the Americans think that we need to set up – something _similar_ , at least – over here, so that we can save the dragons, and fight against Voldemort. They know that having a full-fledged Partnership thing like they have over there isn’t going to work out, but having the good guys, so to speak, understand that dragons are not to be treated like wild animals, but like people – and work with them – we stand a chance,” I sighed. Neville looked at me in amazement.

“So… you have to convince everyone that we can work with dragons, and _should_ work with dragons?” Neville asked.

“Yup,” I popped the ‘p’ with my lips.

“Well… _I_ believe you, obviously, but it’s going to be hard to do, Mags,” Neville sighed.

“Oh I know,” I sighed, “But anyway, the riders over there… and one Halfling, they trained me in how to control my abilities, as it were. Halflings aren’t nearly indestructible, like dragons – we aren’t immune to all spells, and we can’t breathe fire _too_ much. And we also will transform randomly, sometimes, when we’re stressed or really upset or really angry – and I have been working on controlling that,” I sighed.

“How do you control that?” Neville asked.

“Counting to ten, but that method is imperfect… I’m supposed to find a constant,” I muttered.

“Constant?”

“Something I can focus on that’ll be _guaranteed_ to calm me down,” I explained, “I haven’t found one yet. I’ve tried nearly everything.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll find one eventually,” Neville reassured.

“I hope so. Anyway, I’m supposed to get the Order at least on board, I think, with the dragon thing. Then, some riders and Halflings will fly over from America to help,” I explained.

“That’ll be interesting,” Neville snorted.

“Yeah… it’s kind of scary, and a lot of responsibility. I’m the only Halfling in Great Britain – it isn’t exactly a common phenomenon here like it is over there. So it’s all up to me,” I mumbled.

“Ah,” Neville sighed, “And that couldn’t have helped with your PTSD.”

“Not at all. I was so terrified when I got back here – between the memories, threats of flashbacks, and terror over what I have to do for the war on _all_ fronts – I couldn’t deal with it. I ran,” I muttered sheepishly.

“Completely, utterly understandable,” Neville nodded.

“I’m still ashamed, though. I’m a coward. I shouldn’t be in Gryffindor,” I sighed.

“Maggie, for the first time in your entire life, you reacted to a new situation like a normal human being. You have always dived headfirst into everything – for once, you were being cautious. Your condition exacerbated it, but still. You are still one of the most amazing Gryffindors I’ve ever met. And I have the authority, I’m his heir,” Neville grinned cheekily at me. I let out a choked laugh.

“Alright, alright,” I sniffled, “Erm… can we watch another movie? I’m getting cold again.”

“Of course,” Neville nodded, and we went back over to the couch to watch _Free Willy_. It wasn’t quite as good as _Jurassic Park_ , of course, but it was fun – and I deeply enjoyed snuggling with Neville the entire time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for your wonderful feedback! It really makes my day and I love seeing what you guys think! Please keep the comments coming!!


	50. Chapter Forty - Nine: August 8 - August 16, 1995, London

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "So please don't ask me how 
> 
> I ended up at my wits end 
> 
> And breaking down 
> 
> Pages torn from books we never read 
> 
> Cause we're plugged into this grid 
> 
> Don't pull this plug right now 
> 
> Or then we'd really have to live." 
> 
> ~ Rise Against, "Rumors Of My Demise Have Been Greatly Exaggerated".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: Mentions of rape

Chapter 49: August 8 – August 16, 1995, London

The next day was absolutely terrible. My withdrawal symptoms hit rock bottom; I could barely leave the bed and I spent the entire day shaking madly in the sheets, bathed in sweat again, getting chills and a fever and the whole nine. Neville had to bring the trash bin over for me to vomit into, as I never had the energy to get up to reach the toilet. It was a horrible day in which he just sat there, holding back my hair, and making sure I drank enough water, even when I knew I was going to throw it back up again. When I wasn’t vomiting, I was sleeping it off; I spent the next twenty four hours in fits of sleep and wakefulness, constantly sweating. It was so horrible, that I was glad the next day when I woke up and found myself staring at the ceiling, _not_ immediately having to vomit.

It seems that that horrible day was, indeed, the tipping point. While I still had some mild fevers over the next few days, and a great aversion to food, I didn’t have to vomit again; I still would sweat excessively sometimes, but it wasn’t so bad that my clothes got soaked through; mostly, I would be irritable (as I wanted to have a fix, still, on occasion) and have terrible headaches. After my fever had passed, I actually was starting to feel cheerful again. It helped that Neville had taken the route of “therapy by boundless enthusiasm,” constantly urging us to do fun things – we watched all of the movies ( _Baby: Secret of the Lost Legend_ was just not good,) went out to Crystal Palace again, went to the Natural History Museum together, and even saw a movie in the theaters ( _Babe_ , which was okay.)

So, on the glorious morning of August 14th, Neville greeted me by making pancakes that morning as I yawned, walking out into the kitchen.

“Good morning!” he beamed. I rolled my eyes at him.

“Okay, you know you don’t have to be cheerful _all_ of the time,” I snorted.

“I want to be. I want to make you happy,” Neville came over with the pancakes, which were surprisingly not burnt, and dished them onto two plates. I smiled in amusement at him and sat down to eat, actually enjoying the taste of the food.

“So I was thinking – since now your withdrawal has boiled down to headaches and muttering in annoyance at not having smack – we could go to Diagon Alley today? I think we need to pick up our school stuff,” Neville explained eagerly.

“Oh, yeah,” I sighed, “I guess I should do that, huh?”

“Yup,” Neville frowned, “I already wrote to Harry – he said they were going later in the month. I didn’t tell him _when_ we were planning on going, mind – don’t want someone to try and ambush us. But he promised they’d go after the twentieth, and he wouldn’t mention we were planning on going before then to any of the others, so we should be safe from at least the most offending person today.”

“Alright,” I frowned, “What if I break down there?”

“Then I help you up and we get some ice cream,” Neville stated decisively, “We have to do this, and then you don’t have to worry about the Wizarding world until September 1st.”

“I probably should worry about it before then…” I muttered.

“You can if you want, but I want you to know that I am not trying to rush you, here,” Neville reassured, “If I could, I’d keep you away from it all as long as possible. But you said yourself you want to go to school.”

“I have to,” I sighed.

“Well, your education _is_ important,” Neville said between bites of pancakes.

“Besides that,” I muttered, “I promised the Riders. I have to do my job. And… I do care about the war. I do. It’s just… it’s hard for me to put what happened behind me.”

“Of course it is,” Neville nodded, “And it’s more important for you to recover mentally than it is for you to rejoin the fight.”

I sighed heavily, “It’s kind of hard to feel that way.”

“I know, but you barely could handle seeing me again – this is going to take some time,” Neville frowned.

“I don’t _want_ it to take time. I do not _like_ being fragile. I need to help – I – I need to be able to fight,” I hissed angrily, “I don’t like being taken care of all the time.”

“As much as I really and truly _absolutely love_ hearing you sound like yourself again,” Neville paused, looking genuinely happy, “You can’t fight if you collapse in the middle of it screaming.”

“Yeah,” I sighed, “I know.” I looked down at my plate sadly before looking up at Neville.

“I don’t think I can ever be my old self again,” I whispered.

“Nor should you be,” Neville agreed, “You’ve been through some life-changing stuff. You have to react to that. Your personality is going to be shaped by that. It only make sense.”

“I feel weak,” I muttered.

“It doesn’t make you weak. It makes you human,” Neville shrugged, “Am I the same person you met four years ago?”

I shook my head quickly.

“Exactly. You’re going to change because of your environment, it’s biology,” Neville concluded.

“Oh god. We should start that again,” I groaned loudly into my hands.

“Yes, yes we most definitely should,” Neville nodded, “Maybe take an expedition to your house? Get all your stuff? I should probably get my things from Gran while we’re at it.”

“Yeah,” I sighed, “Yeah, we should do that.”

“You’re really scared of doing this, huh?” Neville frowned sadly. I nodded furiously, tears springing to my eyes.

“Look, I’ll be with you the whole time, and I promise, no one is going to hurt you,” Neville soothed. I nodded again and reached out to hug him, holding him tightly for a long time.

“Alright, we’re burning daylight, c’mon,” Neville urged. We got dressed (in separate rooms, still) and left the flat, wandering through the streets of London towards the Leaky Cauldron. It was in walking distance, so there was no point in wasting swipes on the Oyster.

We wandered through the Leaky Cauldron; I hadn’t been since I had run out. Everyone looked at me for a minute before turning back to whatever they were doing – it occurred to me that the last the Wizarding world had heard of me, I was crazy. And I looked it now – I wasn’t homeless in my appearance anymore, but I had dark circles under my eyes and my hair wasn’t very well kept anymore. My ponytail was, for lack of a better word, messy. I also was basically dressing completely in grunge clothing, not something that most members of the Wizarding world were used to. Neville wrapped his arm around my shoulder and rushed me to the brick wall, quickly tapping on it with his wand.

Diagon Alley was exactly as I had remembered it. Even though the amount of time since I had been here hadn’t changed from last year – I only came to this place once a year, after all – I was so overwhelmed with how different of a person I was, I had to lean against a wall, breathing in heavily. My fingers were starting to twitch.

“Mags, count to ten,” Neville urged, having seen my tell. I nodded, looking up at him.

“One… two… three…” I began counting, but as I stared into his eyes, I already felt calmer. Still, I kept saying the numbers softly, “Four… five… six… seven... eight… nine… ten.”

“Great,” Neville beamed happily, rubbing my shoulder, “Come on, we have some books to get!”

I followed him wordlessly.

_Is Neville my constant?_

The sheer clichéd nature of this thought actually made me want to puke. That was so embarrassingly _cheesy_. Yeah, sure, he was my best friend, and yeah, sure, I was madly in love with him, and yeah, sure, he had always been able to calm me down, and yeah, sure, no one understood me like he did, especially now, but oh my god, did it _really_ have to be him? I would never be able to live with the embarrassment if anyone found out – _especially_ him.

I groaned out loud, and Neville rubbed my shoulder comfortingly again, seemingly thinking I was groaning over being here. And while I wasn’t exactly happy with being back in Diagon Alley, I was much more focused on how mortified I was at this new development.

“Alright, so we need some new Arithmancy books, and _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 5_ , and this weird book, _Defensive Magical Theory_ ,” Neville read aloud from his letter.

“I need some ancient rune books,” I added.

“Course you do. You guys learn a new language every bloody term,” Neville groaned, “I’m so glad I didn’t take that class.”

“Yeah, it was the right choice for you,” I nodded, “Too much memorization – erm, Neville, what’s that?” I asked. Neville was holding three pieces of parchment from his envelope. He looked at me and blushed furiously, stuffing them all in his pocket.

“Nothing,” he muttered, walking hurriedly into Flourish and Blotts.

“Oh no!” I shouted, grabbing his arm and holding him back, “No no. Not after everything we’ve been through together these past few weeks. I lay my soul bare and you hide something from me? Nuh uh, Nev!”

Neville smirked, “This isn’t the only thing I’m hiding from you.”

“Yeah, and I still have a few secrets, too, but I’m not letting you get away with this one, since it doesn’t seem serious,” I snorted.

Neville groaned quietly, “Oh bloody hell, you’re going to take the mickey out of me if I tell you.”

“Ha! That _definitely_ means you have to tell me, if that’s the only reason you’re not!” I shook my head fiercely. Neville groaned again.

“Alright… alright… I was… erm… I was named… I was named a Gryffindor Prefect for our year,” Neville muttered softly.

“You’re _kidding!_ ” I gasped loudly. The joy I felt at how I got to torment Neville now decidedly made me feel like myself.

“No I am not,” Neville held up the letter in embarrassment, “Says they picked me for my leadership skills or sommat, I guess.”

“Oh my god!” I roared with laughter, “This is fantastic!”

“Oh shut up,” Neville muttered angrily, “I don’t _want_ to be Prefect. Gran was pleased, though. Probably why she was so cooperative with the flat thing.”

“You have to go on duty! You have to patrol the corridors! This is bloody fantastic!” I grinned, “Oh man, I’m going to make fun of you so much – so many pra…”

I was starting to say the word pranks and got choked up; I had briefly forgotten who I was now. Tears came to my eyes and I sat down instantly on the ground, closing my eyes tightly and trying to block out a memory that I wanted so desperately to forget.

“Maggie? Maggie, look at me,” Neville urged. I opened my eyes and stared directly into his; his face wasn’t very far from mine at all.

“Look at me,” Neville repeated. I nodded fervidly, breathing in slowly. Looking at him _was_ calming me down. If I was going to be a cliché, I might as well not fight it. Eventually I stopped crying; Neville looked satisfied, and he helped me from the ground. I threw my arms around him in a hug, something I was doing with increasing frequency every day.

“Alright, Maggie. It’s going to be alright,” he whispered in my ear. I nodded rapidly again.

“Do… do you know who the girl one is?” I asked curiously.

“Hermione,” Neville rolled his eyes.

“Of course,” we stated in unison.

“Stinks I’m going to be called the boy prefect, though,” Neville scowled furiously. I felt my face fall in realization.

“Oh man, Neville. That’s horrible,” I groaned, “Could you write to Dumbledore? I’m sure he’d understand…”

“I don’t want to make a fuss. You’re also the only person I’ve been able to tell,” Neville sighed, “It’s not exactly something I’m comfortable with telling people. Why do you think I haven’t done any of those things I want to do? The makeup, the different clothes, the nail polish? I’m terrified of people’s reactions.”

“I’m sorry Neville,” I mumbled softly, “That’s terrible. You should be able to be who you want, and have everyone understand.”

“Sadly, our world sucks. It’s why we have to keep fighting,” Neville shrugged dejectedly. I gave him another hug tightly, rubbing his back comfortingly.

“Yeah,” I sighed as I pulled back, “Does… Harry know you got the spot?”

“Yeah,” Neville grimaced, “I don’t think he’s happy about it.”

“Oh no,” I sighed again.

“I mean he didn’t say anything, and he _acted_ pleased, but to be honest Maggie… he hasn’t been himself either. I think he also… I think he also has PTSD,” Neville frowned, “I didn’t know when I was over there, but now that I know about the condition, it seems like it. He has nightmares too, though he doesn’t scream – we shared a room, see. He would just get up and pace around the room. And he was mad all the _bloody time._ We got there and he had a shouting match about no one telling him what was happening – it was horrible, he had at it at everyone. He’s cranky all the time and won’t talk to anyone at all. The only thing he’ll do is go out and practice throwing knives with Ginny,” Neville shook his head sadly, “It’s bad.”

I groaned loudly, “I mean, I noticed he was extremely argumentative and angry when I was with him in Chicago, but… I couldn’t really focus on it.”

“Of course you couldn’t,” Neville nodded, “I didn’t even want to tell you, but I had to put Harry’s irritation at not being Prefect in the context of that. So I think he would have been much more gracious about it otherwise. He needs help, too,” Neville sighed.

“Too bad if either of us get it we’ll be chucked out of Hogwarts by the Ministry and thrown into St. Mungo’s,” I snorted as I grabbed my rune dictionaries for the year – Arabic, Hindi, and Swahili. Neville went and got us two copies of our books for Arithmancy – a book on probability, and another book on arithmancy using probability. We then went and found the new Defense book, and our new Charms text.

“Yeah, I wrote to your Mum and she said something similar,” Neville sighed, “I don’t think we’re going to be able to get you the help you need for a while.”

I felt my face break but I nodded in agreement. I knew this, deep down; I couldn’t say I hadn’t hoped I was exaggerating the issue in my mind, however.

“Look, it’s going to be okay, okay?” Neville murmured softly as I bought my books, “Look, I’m going to be there with you as much as I can, and soon I think… you should tell someone else. Or I should tell someone else for you.”

“Like who?” I asked softly as he bought his books and we left the shop.

“Like Professor McGonagall? She wrote to me asking me what she could do,” Neville shook his head, “I always read my mail before you wake up in the morning. Said your letters to her were curt before, then she wasn’t getting any, then she sent your Hogwarts letter to a homeless address – I could practically hear her shrieking, by the way – and then she heard I had found you and I was with you. She’s in the Order, of course, so they must have told her at Headquarters.”

“Yeah, I should tell her,” I mumbled, “I’m just… afraid.”

“I know,” Neville nodded, “Need anything else for school?”

“Probably should freshen up my potions ingredients, and you should too, if I remember correctly,” I rolled my eyes.

“Seems pointless, since I’m dropping the class after this year,” Neville chuckled happily.

“Oh man, I feel the same way about Charms. Dunno if I’ll stick with potions or not,” I frowned.

“Snape likes _you_ , might be good to know about that stuff,” Neville frowned.

“Yeah, but I don’t really like the subject much, and I just want to be a Transfiguration Professor, I got the fast track from McGonagall, why do I need to learn potions?” I rolled my eyes.

“True,” Neville agreed, “Fast track?”

“McGonagall told me she named me as her replacement already,” I admitted.

“Wow! That’s fantastic! Sprout did for me as well, but two years ago,” Neville grinned cheekily. I stuck my tongue out at him.

“Show off!” Neville giggled happily and I hit him upside the head.

“Honestly, though, if we’re worried about someone knowing about potions, Hermione’s going to take it, we’re fine,” I rolled my eyes.

“Good point,” Neville nodded.

We went inside the Apothecary and bought our ingredients before going back out onto the alley. I looked around sadly, wondering what else I would look at if I had the energy for it. Neville rubbed my shoulder again.

“We can leave now, if you want. I have everything I need,” Neville soothed.

“Alright,” I whispered quietly. We left the Alley together, going through the Cauldron hurriedly, and walking out into the London street. As we walked back to the flat, I looked up at him sadly.

“I think I’m okay with telling McGonagall. Can we get her to come to the flat?” I asked softly.

“Don’t see why not. I’ll write Gran this afternoon,” Neville nodded.

And so Neville wrote his Gran, and I spent the next day waiting urgently to see if McGonagall would come round. Sure enough, the next morning Neville received word that McGonagall would be coming by the very next day.

“Think we should take today to go to your house and get your things. My things are all at Headquarters; I’ll pick them up before we leave for good,” Neville sighed.

“Makes sense,” I sighed. We left out to the Leaky Cauldron again, and simply used the Floo. Fewer people were there, thankfully, so we didn’t draw much attention to ourselves as we zoomed off to the Nest.

Being back here was the strangest moment of all. We had only briefly stopped here before going to Chicago; Mum wanted Harry out of the country as soon as possible. I ran outside to the railing of the long steps in a panic and leaned against it, breathing heavily. Being amongst all the trees wasn’t something I was ready for yet. I was trying, desperately, to fight off the images coming to my brain.

“Maggie, you aren’t in the task. You’re at home. You’re safe at home, I promise,” Neville soothed. I nodded silently.

“I kn-kn-know,” I stammered softly.

“You are at home, you are not in the task. You are at home, you are _not_ in the task,” Neville repeated. I looked up at him and nodded again. I wrapped my arms slowly around his waist and held him tightly around his soft middle, hoping to comfort myself with the beating of his heart. Soon enough, I had, and I pulled back from him breathing more steadily.

“Good,” Neville nodded, “Come on, let’s go.”

We walked back into the house and I entered it slowly, seeing that it hadn’t really been touched since we left. I ran my hand over the kitchen counter wordlessly, overcome with nostalgia and sadness.

“You doing okay?” Neville asked softly.

“Yeah. I just wish I hadn’t changed,” I muttered.

“That’s a silly wish,” Neville insisted, though his tone was comforting, “We all must change.”

“I wish I hadn’t changed like this,” I amended.

“Can’t change the past. Only influence the future,” Neville soothed.

“You’re right,” I agreed quietly. I walked upstairs to my room, overwhelmed with the smell.

“Do I smell like this?” I asked as I grabbed the rest of my clothes from my closet and my trunk from on top of the bed.

“Yeah,” Neville paused, “Like campfire smoke, dust after rain, and rocks. Rocks have a smell, you know. It’s powdery, and… earthy.”

“Well you smell like pine trees, flowers, and a river,” I muttered in response. Neville looked oddly flushed at my statement.

“How d’you know that so well?” he asked, his voice a little higher-pitched than usual.

“There’s this thing where I hug you a lot,” I grunted as I packed up my books and grabbed my bow. My owl, Darwin, must have been at Grimmauld place. I looked around wildly for Albus, the lizard.

“Albus is at Headquarters,” Neville paused, “Hermione’s been looking after him.”

“I owe her one,” I frowned.

“You owe her loads,” Neville shook his head, “She misses you, too, you know.”

“How has she been?” I asked quietly as I grabbed my trunk.

“She’s been… okay. Her and Fred had a big row,” Neville frowned sadly, “I don’t think they’re going to last much longer.”

“What was the row over?” I asked in shock. The last I had seen them, they were doing well.

“See… Hermione is shrewd. You know this,” Neville offered. I nodded.

“That’s an understatement. If Hermione is shrewd, then I’m just a little bad-tempered,” I snorted.

“Yes, well, she figured… pretty early on in the summer, actually, while you lot were in Chicago… that the great bastard must have done something to you. She knows you well, that girl,” Neville shook his head, “I mean, I had my ideas too… Pretty sure Harry did…”

“So the three people I care about most?” I asked, snorting.

“Well, yeah,” Neville sighed, “We know you better than anyone.”

“Yeah,” I admitted, “Go on.”

“Anyway, Hermione might have mentioned this theory to Fred… and he flipped. Doesn’t want to think his brother is capable of doing something that bad, see. He was extremely defensive and furious. He apologized later, admitted that it was decidedly possible… but I can understand. Learning something like that about your twin… _I_ would be horrified,” Neville explained.

“Yeah, if someone told me Harry might have done that, I wouldn’t believe it,” I whispered, “I don’t blame Fred for that.”

“If he doesn’t believe _you_ telling him _directly_ , or me telling him _directly_ that it happened, without conjecture, _then_ I’ll get pissed,” Neville agreed.

“Yeah. I’d believe someone if they told me Harry definitely did it,” I nodded.

“But since then she and him have been pretty cold towards one another. She thinks that he won’t be supportive of you if… well, she still thinks if… it’s true. And Fred doesn’t like that she thinks that low of him,” Neville grimaced.

“Oh geez. Now I feel terrible,” I groaned.

“Once again, I must repeat that this is not your fault,” Neville shook his head, “Maggie, none of this is your fault. This can all be blamed on the great bastard.”

I sighed heavily, “It’s hard to convince myself of this.”

“Well, that’s what we’ll be working on,” Neville nodded firmly.

“Good,” I answered honestly, “I don’t _want_ to blame myself anymore.”

“That’s an important first step,” Neville praised, “C’mon. Let’s get out of here.”

We left back to the Leaky Cauldron and walked home in silence, Neville helping me carry the trunk for a good portion of the way.

“You know, I’m mostly better. I don’t need you to help me like this anymore,” I snorted.

“I want to,” Neville grunted.

“Oh my god you are being ridiculous,” I groaned as we got to the flat. I managed to wrestle it from him to carry it up the stairs.

“Besides, as much as it sucks for Fred and Hermione to be… nearly done,” Neville paused, “There’s a serious point to be made here.”

“Oh?” I asked.

“We want her and Harry to end up together, right?” Neville offered.

“Oh yeah,” I nodded, “I just… it was hard to remember that. She and Fred have been good together. She’s been _happy_.”

“I know, but I don’t think it would work long-term. Again, she and Harry understand each other on a deeper level. The amount of stuff they’ve gone through together… I don’t either one can have as intimate of a bond with another person,” Neville shrugged.

I hoped he realized what he just said applied to us, too. We both looked at each other intensely for a long minute before he looked away, flushed.

“Erm, dinner?” he asked quietly.

“Yeah,” I answered, blushing furiously and sitting down on the couch.

“Course…” he said after a while as he started cracking open eggs, “Hermione will need time, right? Time to be herself… time to be single. And Harry… Harry is still really bad, I think. I think Harry shouldn’t enter a relationship when he’s going through this stuff, you know? At least, not when he hasn’t had anyone talk to him about it. I should really write to your Mum… say that he needs to talk to someone too. But he shouldn’t enter a relationship when he’s this vulnerable. Might not know what he wants, see.”

“Yeah,” I agreed, “Yeah, one shouldn’t do that when they’re that bad off.”

Neville and I looked at each other again and I flushed furiously, looking at the wall with a little too much interest.

“Now, if someone were to… say… go a while, recover slowly, and get to a place where they were emotionally ready for something like that,” I whispered.

“Then they should. Especially if something like that could help them more,” Neville agreed.

“Right. It’s all about time,” I nodded.

“Exactly. You shouldn’t become emotionally vulnerable with someone until you’re ready, but that kind of vulnerability can help if you’re in the right place for it,” Neville urged.

“Hopefully… Hermione… will be understanding of that,” I stated softly.

“I think she will be,” Neville reassured. I looked at him again; his face was as red as mine felt. I looked away nervously again. At dinner, we made conversation about _Draco prima_ instead, him disappointed that the American wizards didn’t have much more to say about it than I did; neither of us bringing up our awkward earlier conversation.

The next day, we both waited nervously for Professor McGonagall to call; Neville was drumming his fingers against the kitchen counter, and I was pacing in the hallway in front of the door. My fingers were shaking slightly, but not in a way that meant I was going to shift; just from normal nervousness. My hands were shaking too, that’s how I could tell.

Eventually, there was a knock on the front door; I ran forward and opened it. Professor McGonagall was there, looking at me with an expression that was torn between stern and relieved.

“It is good to see you again, Miss Johnson,” she finally greeted. I nodded in response, tears coming to my eyes. She walked inside and closed the door behind her.

“You as well, Mr. Longbottom,” McGonagall nodded at Neville, who smiled awkwardly back.

“It hasn’t been that long since I’ve been at Headquarters,” Neville pointed out.

“Yes, well, it’s been an odd holiday, at any rate,” McGonagall turned to me, “Now, care to tell me what has been going on with you, Miss Johnson?”

I sighed heavily, “it’s hard for me to say everything, Professor.”

She turned to Neville, “Can you?”

“Yes,” Neville nodded, “You’re still okay with this, right, Maggie?”

“Yeah,” I agreed, “I need more people to help me, if I’m going to get to a place where I can deal with… everything.”

“Should I be sitting down for this?” McGonagall asked.

“Oh definitely,” Neville pulled out a chair at the kitchen table and she sat down. I sat down across from her, my hands folded together, my thumbs twiddling anxiously. Neville sat down between us, looking at McGonagall earnestly.

“As you know, Maggie went through more at the end of last term than she was letting on at the time,” Neville began.

“Yes, I could tell at the time as well,” McGonagall nodded. I flushed irritably.

“Well, she wasn’t exactly forthcoming in how difficult the task was for her, and she completely neglected to inform all of us of an event that, frankly, is so horrible I don’t think anyone in her shoes would have done any differently,” Neville began.

“When did the event in question take place?” McGonagall asked.

“Two nights before the task,” Neville explained.

“What happened?” McGonagall continued. Neville looked at me and I nodded, tears coming to my eyes. I sighed heavily and buried my face in my arms, unable to look at my favorite professor.

“As you are aware… at the time, Maggie was in a romantic relationship,” Neville paused.

“Yes, with Mr. Weasley, I remember,” McGonagall clarified, her voice oozing with suspicion.

“Well, that evening, the person in question – sorry, if I even say his name I start to get murderous – was intoxicated with alcohol. He approached Maggie in the library and…” Neville took another deep breath. I sobbed heavily into my arms now. McGonagall was silent, though I didn’t know what expression was on her face.

“He raped her,” Neville finally stated. I heard the scraping of a chair against the floor; I looked up to see that McGonagall had walked over to me, and was now wrapping her arm around my shoulder. She pulled me up from my chair and into a hug; I sobbed into her green robes madly.

“The next day, the person in question,” Neville continued, “Did not realize that what had happened was in fact rape. He then broke up with Maggie, over what he considered to be ‘bad sex.’” Neville held up his fingers in quotation marks around the term, his face contorted into a sneer so hateful it didn’t seem like something that belonged on Neville’s typically friendly face.

McGonagall pulled back from our hug and now sat in the chair across from Neville and next to me, resting her hand on my knee.

“Now, during the task, there were also some events in question,” Neville paused, “During the task, there was a boggart that no one had warned of.”

McGonagall hissed quietly. I felt myself sob louder.

“When Maggie came across the boggart, she and Harry had been separated, making her believe that it was actually her brother. By the time Harry had found her, she had already been greatly affected by the sight. Furthermore, Angelina – while under the Imperius curse, of _course_ – did,  one point, put Maggie under the cruciatus curse. Finally, and this event we were all mostly aware of – given all of these events, when Maggie saw Harry disappear with the Cup – it was especially traumatic,” Neville explained.

McGonagall was silent; she seemed to be seething with rage and anger.

“At any rate, Maggie has thus been affected with – as I told the Order that day – Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. She turned to heroin and, briefly, partying, in order to cope. Then, briefly, she was distracted with something else – much too complicated for me to explain, she will if she wishes. Finally, upon coming back to Britain, the experience was so horrific and triggering for her, she had no choice but to run away,” Neville finished.

“Of course,” McGonagall agreed. I looked up at her through my tears.

“Maggie, none of this is your fault, and all of it is understandable,” McGonagall urged.

“I don’t know why everyone says it’s not my fault,” I muttered, “ _Something_ must be my fault.”

“It is not. It is not your fault that the event in the library occurred; it is _not_ your fault that you care so much for your family that your boggart is what it is; and it is _not_ your fault that Angelina was put under the Imperius Curse,” McGonagall paused, “None of this is your fault. No wonder, furthermore, you have been so traumatized.”

“Maggie has since… mostly finished her withdrawal from heroin,” Neville paused, “Though she is unable to sleep through the night… erm… without…”

“Without Neville with me,” I admitted softly. McGonagall looked at us critically.

“I have found the best way to help her is to hold her while she sleeps,” Neville clarified, “That’s all.”

“Alright,” McGonagall answered slowly. She didn’t look all that skeptical; frankly, I think that even if Neville and I _were_ up to other things, she wouldn’t care.

“The important thing is for Maggie to be able to come back to Hogwarts and have minimal episodes,” Neville continued, “It’ll be difficult, as it is the location where everything happened. But Maggie has decided on her own that she needs to continue her education.”

“Of course you do,” McGonagall frowned.

“There was a part of me that wanted to wait until… he graduated,” I admitted softly.

“Oh,” McGonagall paused, “Do you still wish to do this?”

“No,” I sighed, “I want to stay… with…” I looked over at Neville for a minute, “I want to keep up with my friends.”

“Right,” McGonagall _now_ looked skeptical – it was clear I also didn’t want to leave Neville, “Well, then there’s little I can do unless I have permission to punish Mr. Weasley.”

I shook my head madly, my hair flopping back and forth quickly.

“I’m sorry, I just – I’m… I’m not ready for that yet. I’m not ready for everyone to find out,” I whispered softly, “Talking about it… makes me…”

McGonagall looked at me kindly. I took a deep breath.

“Talking about it makes me horrifically anxious. If you punish him, he’ll tell his twin. His twin will come up to me and demand if what the bad twin did was actually true. He then would be caught up in how I hadn’t told him. The good twin would tell Hermione, who would tell Harry, who would be hurt that I hadn’t told him. It would continue to spiral… you know how our group is, Professor,” I sighed, “I need to go slowly, and tell people on my own.”

“Then I won’t punish Mr. Weasley for this directly. I cannot promise that I won’t be… increasingly stern with him in his studies,” McGonagall scowled, “Frankly, I wish to castrate the boy.”

Neville snorted loudly. I wiped my tears from my eyes.

“What was that, Mr. Longbottom?” McGonagall asked.

“I want to kill him,” Neville shrugged.

“Well, let’s not get you arrested, that wouldn’t help Maggie,” McGonagall shook her head.

“You don’t deny that’s what he deserves, though?” Neville asked.

“Well… I hesitate to even say that You-Know-Who deserves death. I am not comfortable with murder as a form of punishment. But I will say that he is quite high up on my list of ‘if I accept the premise,’” McGonagall admitted.

“Well, I’ll take that,” Neville shrugged.

“And I will be sure to meet with you regularly, Maggie. We can talk things over. I’ll look up methods of PTSD treatment in muggle libraries… I already began when Neville informed us of your condition. I’ll try to be as good as a licensed therapist, though I apologize in advance for mistakes I will probably make,” McGonagall admitted.

“I forgive you in advance,” I nodded, “I know you’ll be doing your best.”

“In addition… I will figure out a way for you two to continue your sleeping arrangement,” McGonagall paused, “If you wish.”

I looked at Neville, and he at me.

“I will if she still wants me too,” Neville answered firmly. I flushed heavily.

“I admit, it would help me sleep. But I also don’t want to draw attention to myself,” I sighed, “Especially since… certain people could notice and… well, think it was for reasons other than the actual ones. And then there would be confrontation, and frankly, I want to not draw attention myself with this person.”

“Then I will create an arrangement for you to use if you deem it necessary,” McGonagall nodded, “I understand not wanting Mr. Weasley to confront you.”

“If he even gets close to you –“ Neville growled.

“Mr. Longbottom, I hope I won’t spend this entire academic year reminding you that it is not your job to punish Hogwarts students,” McGonagall scolded.

“I don’t know,” Neville scowled, “I think you’ll be too busy reminding a certain redhead that no is a word with a definition in the English language.”

“I am fully capable of performing both tasks. Though the latter is my priority, yes,” McGonagall agreed.

I looked at both of them in slight amusement, “Guys, I just want to forget he exists.”

Neville sighed, “Sorry, Maggie. I’m just having a lot of trouble meeting that basic requirement.”

“And you’ll have to forgive me as well, as I just learned of this,” McGonagall furthered.

“Well, I mean, I know I need to face what happened, and come to terms with it, and deal with my issues from that whole three day period… I just… I’m honestly scared of him, I’m scared of the situation, and I’m scared of how I’m going to be able to deal with the war,” I sighed.

“Maggie, you don’t have to do anything with the war if you do not want to,” McGonagall answered immediately, “You and your friends conveniently forget every year that you are only _students_ , but I won’t let you this year if it’ll compromise your mental state.”

“Sadly, Professor, I’m not just a student this year,” I groaned.

“What do you mean?” McGonagall asked.

“As you are aware, my animagus form is that of a dragon,” I paused.

“Yes…” McGonagall frowned, “Does Mr. Longbottom know this?”

“I shifted in front of him on accident – part of a larger story. When I first transformed, I met a dragon in the Forbidden Forest – by the name of Herin. We had a lovely chat, she and I,” I frowned, “They’re extremely intelligent, dragons.”

“Alright…” McGonagall frowned, “Most animagi can communicate with animals similar to themselves.”

“Yes,” I nodded, “And Herin explained to me how during the last war, Voldemort and the giants nearly hunted dragons in Britain to extinction.”

“Yes,” McGonagall sighed, “It was, for lack of a better word, horrific.”

“Well, she told me that in America, they deal with dragons differently than in Britain. They know they can’t tame dragons – can’t control them. The relationship is about respect, and equality,” I frowned, “They treat dragons like people.”

“Alright,” McGonagall continued to look at me skeptically.

“They have a very expansive program there – called dragon riding. Humans and dragons partner up and spend their lives together. Their entire army and police forces are made up of dragons and riders, and Halflings. Halfling is their term for a dragon animagus – like me. There are loads of them over there,” I explained.

“Continue,” McGonagall offered.

“See, I’m the only Halfling in Britain, so I’m sort of a bridge between the dragons and the humans. And it’s important, obviously, that the dragons don’t go extinct in this next war. Important to them, and important to us. They would make powerful, important allies, especially if Voldemort gets the giants,” I explained.

“Yes…” McGonagall agreed tentatively.

“I’ve been charged with convincing enough people that this is the right way to go – Herin is going to help – so that some riders and Halflings can come over here. Then they can help us set up a preliminary partnership. If I don’t do this… no one will, and we lose a valuable asset in the war,” I explained, “I’ve already been trained some by them… Halflings aren’t exactly like other animagi. Before we’re trained, we’ll change when we’re super stressed or upset – which is why Neville saw me change. I only just mastered how to calm down.” _Never mind I told him I was doing the animagus thing beforehand._

“Well,” McGonagall paused, “Then it’s very important that we help you get to a place where you can do this, isn’t it?”

“Extremely,” I agreed.

“I’m sorry you cannot seem to catch a break, Maggie,” McGonagall sighed.

“I don’t really think I’d be myself if I were able to, Professor,” I admitted.

“Comes with the territory of being Harry Potter’s sister,” Neville observed shrewdly.

“No one can argue with that,” McGonagall agreed. I looked at both of them sadly, realizing that it was time I started acting like his sister once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter was shorter, guys; frankly I'm getting kind of tired and my thumb is cramping up. It seemed like a good place to stop. Hope you all enjoyed; please comment and let me know what you think!


	51. Chapter Fifty: August 17, 1995, London

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "So you gotta fire up, you gotta let go 
> 
> You'll never be loved till you've made your own 
> 
> You gotta face up, you gotta get yours 
> 
> You never know the top till you get too low 
> 
> A son of a stepfather 
> 
> A son of a 
> 
> I'm so sorry 
> 
> A son of a stepfather 
> 
> A son of a 
> 
> I'm so sorry." 
> 
> ~ Imagine Dragons, "I'm So Sorry".

Chapter 50: August 17, 1995, London

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” Neville asked for the millionth time. I groaned loudly as I sat at the kitchen table.

“ _Yes_ , Neville, can you please _stop asking_ ,” I sighed, “I need to do this! You said yourself last night that it was healthy!”

“I also hate seeing you break down,” Neville mumbled, “It breaks my heart.”

I looked at him sadly for a long time.

“I’m sorry, Nev,” I finally whispered.

“It’s not your fault. I just don’t want to make you unhappy, even if you… want to risk it, I guess?” Neville shook his head, “I also won’t be able to stop myself from protecting you or defending you if they get angry with you.”

“Well that’s not exactly a surprising bit of information,” I rolled my eyes.

“No, I guess it’s not,” Neville blushed sheepishly and continued pacing around the kitchen.

“You’re going to wear a hole in the floor,” I snorted. Neville rolled his eyes in annoyance.

“Sorry. I’m nervous. I don’t know what to do right now,” Neville admitted.

“You could sit down,” I suggested teasingly.

“Usually I would do literally anything to make you happy, but right now I know if I sit down I’ll just fidget for a little bit before bouncing back up again,” Neville groaned, leaning his forehead against the kitchen counter.

“Alright, keep pacing, silly human,” I snorted softly. Neville groaned and ran his hands through his hair.

“You should get a haircut,” I wiggled my eyebrows in amusement.

“I should, but I like it only a little shorter than this. If Gran cuts it it’ll be back to pre-growth spurt shortness,” Neville grimaced horrifically, “I’ll look like a _boy_.”

“You already look like a boy,” I pointed out, “You have a stubble beard.”

“Yeah, but my long luscious locks helps keep me ambiguous,” Neville groaned, “I mean I don’t want them _long_ long – it’s so curly, it would be like a rug on the back of my neck. But just long enough – like this. Also, I look horrible with short hair. I look fat.”

“You look fine,” I rolled my eyes, “Have you considered… _not_ having your grandmother cut your hair?”

  
“I… haven’t,” Neville frowned, “I never even think about getting a haircut until she brings it up, in annoyance I might add.”

“Maybe one of the rest of us could do it, and do it at a length you’re happy with?” I suggested.

“Yeah,” Neville looked happy about this thought, “Yeah. I could get Hermione to do it. No offense, but you’re bullocks on charms.”

“Oh no offense taken. You’re bullocks on transfiguration,” I grinned cheekily. Neville rolled his eyes but smiled at me.

“There’s the Maggie we know and love,” Neville muttered softly. I wasn’t sure if I was meant to hear that, but it made me flush furiously and stare at my fingernails again.

“Can I ask you an awkward question?” I blurted out before I could stop myself. Neville looked at me curiously, his face blushing instantly.

“Erm, sure. Not entirely sure if I’ll answer it,” Neville muttered.

_Don’t worry, I’m not asking about your parents, or your feelings for me._

“How… erm… far did you and Ginny get?” I asked in a mumble. Neville’s eyebrows rose into his hair.

“Why do you want to know?” Neville retorted, but his tone wasn’t angry.

“I’m just curious. I’ve shared all the gory details of my romantic past with you,” I shrugged.

“I wouldn’t call that one event _romantic –“_

“I was more referring to the great three or so weeks of pure partying I partook in,” I rolled my eyes.

“Ah, well, that makes sense,” Neville flushed again, “Which I don’t care about, by the way, except as a symptom of your PTSD.”

“No, I know. And I don’t care in a judgmental way, either, I just… erm… I am just curious,” I repeated.

“Oh, alright,” Neville blushed, “We… erm… we got a P.”

I looked at him in confusion for a long moment before asking, “P?”

“Oh you know – it’s how wizards mark – erm – how wizards mark how far they’ve gotten in a relationship? You can’t tell me you haven’t heard of this, you hung out with the Weasley twins!” Neville shook his head.

“Fred never wanted to discuss that stuff with me,” I smirked at him.

“Alright, alright. Well Ginny explained it to me at the time… erm… it takes after the O.W.L. grades, obviously,” Neville shrugged.

“Obviously,” I nodded.

“Well, the lowest grade is T – troll – and that stands for kissing. And then the next one – D, dreadful – that stands for kissing with tongue, yeah? Well, erm, P – poor – that stands for, erm… touching boobs,” Neville flushed horrifically, “Which is extremely heteronormative and I’m not a fan, but whatever. And… erm… then A, acceptable, is hand stuff… E, exceeds expectations, is oral stuff… and O is… well… yeah,” Neville was blushing so much he looked like he wanted to melt into the floor.

“You and Ginny got to P? You do realize she was thirteen, right?” I looked at him in shock.

“It was her idea,” Neville mumbled, his face somehow turning more red, “She, er… uh… wanted to. I wasn’t really _complaining_ about it at the time, and I’m only a year older than her.”

“I’m just a little shocked to be honest,” I shrugged, “I don’t really care, especially if she initiated it.”

“Oh yes,” Neville sighed, “She was pretty eager, actually. I think she wanted to get experience or something. I dunno. I never _saw_ anything, it was just over her jumper – in the dark, furthermore. It was at the tail end of our relationship when we both realized it was almost over, so she seemed pretty eager to get as much experience out of the relationship as she could.”

“Well then,” I flushed madly, “That answers my question.”

“And I mean you’re fifteen, and look at all the stuff you did this summer,” Neville shook his head, “How are you really in any better position for it?”

“That’s true,” I admitted, “It’s just hard cause I think of Ginny as a little sister.”

“Fair enough,” Neville sighed, “I never did anything to hurt her –“

“No I know! Ginny and I talked occasionally afterwards, she said you were a great boyfriend – which I was annoyed with at the time but I didn’t know if you would want me to say anything, by the way – but she just wasn’t interested in you anymore,” I reassured hurriedly, “And I don’t think Ginny would lie to me about something like that – well, at the very least, she _acted_ completely fine. And you… erm… I don’t think you’re capable of anything like that.”

“Thank you for that,” Neville flushed, “It means a lot.”

“Of course,” I whispered softly.

A knock suddenly issued on the door. Neville and I looked, both still blushing furiously, at the door. I felt my heart pound loudly in my chair and my fingers started to twitch already.

“Bloody hell,” Neville groaned, “You’re not ready for this. I’ll send them away, just, count to ten –“ Neville urged. I was staring intently at him, though, and already calming down.

“No, no. I have to do this. The earlier I do this before school starts, the better,” I frowned, “Just… make sure they are who they are. I can’t believe we forgot to check with McGonagall yesterday.”

“Yeah,” Neville agreed, “One second.” He walked up to the door and opened it slightly.

“Oi, let us in!” Harry shouted form the other side angrily.

“Gotta make sure you are who you are, mate,” Neville shook his head, “Harry first. Second year, who did I transform into with the Polyjuice potion?”

“Oh shoot, I don’t remember, I was a cat!” Hermione groaned.

“It was meant for me, Hermione,” Harry grumbled, “You were Crabbe. I was Goyle.”

“Righteo!” Neville grinned, “Now, Hermione – what was it you said to me third year while we were at Hogsmeade trying to find sweets for Harry and Maggie?”

“Oh,” Hermione sounded embarrassed already, “Oh, erm… that if we weren’t careful, Maggie and Harry were going to ruin our lives.”

I looked at Neville in amusement and stuck my tongue out at him. Neville grinned cheekily.

“Right again! You both have passed my test,” Neville snorted, “Can they com in, Maggie?”

“Probably should, before a Death Eater or sommat comes into the hallway,” I sighed. My heart was pounding in my chest and my hands were shaking like mad. Neville ran over to me and held my shoulders tightly.

“Well? Can we come in? The chain’s still on,” Harry grunted.

Neville looked at me again and I nodded, holding my face in my hands and setting my elbows on the table. Neville walked back open to the door and opened it.

Immediately, I had the wind essentially knocked out of me. I looked in shock to find that Hermione had tackled me in a hug, holding her arms tightly around me.

“Oh Maggie, I’m _so sorry_ about what’s happened to you – oh I promise we’re all going to work really hard to make sure you can come back – I’ve missed you so much – I wish you had been able to talk to us, but of _course_ I understand,” Hermione rambled.

I looked at her happily – seeing Hermione sent joy into my heart that I couldn’t pretend wasn’t there. I felt tears come to my eyes and I threw my arms around her in response.

“I’ve missed you too,” I mumbled softly. Hermione started crying loudly and we hugged for a fairly long period of time. I finally pulled back, wiping off my eyes with my hands. I looked up and saw Harry standing there, his arms folded across his chest tightly.

It had been an extremely long time since I’d seen him. I immediately was somewhere else – Harry was getting taken away by the Cup – I was in the forest again. I gasped for breath in shock and fell out of my chair, holding my head tightly in my hands and curling up into a fetal position. I immediately felt Neville hold me again, and suddenly I was getting lifted up and taken somewhere – I breathed slowly and tried to come back down out of the flashback, gripping tightly to Neville’s arm as I finally realized I was on the couch.

I opened my eyes slowly; I was shaking horrifically, gripping Neville’s arm tightly.

“Harry, you should go,” Neville stated gruffly.

“No,” I whispered, sitting up. I was bathed in sweat again, like I had been on withdrawal, but I took a deep breath.

“Maggie, this isn’t good, you can’t –“ Neville insisted.

“No,” I grunted back, “No. I can’t go my whole life avoiding my _brother_.” I closed my eyes tightly and mumbled, “ _One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten_.” I opened my eyes again and stood up, shaking, and turned around to look at Harry again.

His face was considerably softer now, and he was wringing his wrists nervously. Hermione was watching everything from the corner, her face completely white. I took a deep breath and looked at him sadly, keeping the memories at bay by continually counting in my head.

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered.

“I’m so sorry,” Harry parroted, looking at me earnestly. I ran forward towards him and tackled him in a hug, sobbing heavily into his chest. He was crying, too; we were still similar in height, so his head was only partially on top of mine, and I could feel his tears dropping into my hair.

“I love you,” I mumbled quietly.

“I love you,” Harry repeated, pulling back from our hug, “I’m sorry I’ve been a wanker.”

“I’m sorry I’ve gone nuts,” I muttered.

“That’s not your fault,” Harry shook his head.

“It’s not your fault you’re acting like this, either! Tell him, Nev!” I insisted.

Harry looked at Neville questioningly. I turned around and saw that his face had colored dramatically.

“Erm… you’re also showing… PTSD symptoms. Just, different ones. Or, different ones, and similar ones, manifested differently,” Neville explained.

“Oh,” Harry sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“The anger – the nightmares – the withdrawal from personal relationships – you have it too, mate,” Neville sighed, “I’m sorry.”

“I kind of figured after a while, honestly,” Harry shrugged.

“You saw _Voldemort_ come back,” Hermione insisted, “Of course you do!”

“So she and I are both crazy?” Harry groaned.

“Yup,” I nodded.

“Brilliant. How are we going to hide this from the Ministry?” Harry muttered.

 “Therapy. Soooooooo much therapy,” Neville sighed, “Maggie’s going to talk to McGonagall.”

“Who will Harry talk to, then? It’s not like Lupin can come to Hogwarts again,” I frowned.

“Could he talk to McGonagall too?” Hermione offered.

“I’m not that close with her…” Harry shook his head, “I don’t know what good that would do.”

“It’s better than any of the others – Dumbledore! You could talk to Dumbledore!” Hermione gasped.

“Dumbledore’s been avoiding me,” Harry grunted, “He wouldn’t talk to me.”

“Avoiding you?” I asked.

“Yeah. He won’t meet my eye; I’ve passed him _loads_ of times back at Headquarters. Completely avoids me. And it was his idea to not tell us about anything going on with the Order. I dunno what’s up, but I’m pissed,” Harry grunted angrily.

“That’s terrible,” I frowned, “Why would he do that?”

“No idea,” Harry shrugged, “Whatever.”

“Maybe you should write to Sirius more often? He won’t be physically there, but you two talk all the time now,” Hermione suggested.

“Guess it’ll have to do,” Harry sat down in a chair and looked up at the ceiling angrily.

“I see what you mean about him being grumpy all the time,” I commented softly to Neville.

“Yeah. The week we were at Headquarters at the same time was… erm…” Neville looked awkward.

“Yeah,” Harry sighed.

“Oh for the love of Merlin,” Hermione shook her head fiercely, “The two were at each others’ throats all week. It was ridiculous. Neville was furious at Harry for letting you get away. Harry was being pissy and saying that no one should look for you, Maggie, since you clearly didn’t want to be found. That pissed off Neville more, and fights ensued. It was _extremely_ mature,” Hermione finished sarcastically.

“Glad to know you gave up on me that easily,” I muttered angrily.

“You basically told me to!” Harry shouted.

“Yeah, well, you know me better than anyone, you know perfectly well that I was going through something! Leave you and the war behind, honestly, who would ever believe that I actually meant that!” I shouted back.

“You seemed pretty bloody serious at the time!” Harry snapped.

“Oh for the love of Merlin, I also was getting high all the fucking time! Unless you missed that?” I snorted.

“You just seemed sleepy! I actually had no idea!” Harry threw his hands up in the air angrily.

“Argh!” I yelled angrily, running my hands through my hair. Neville came up behind me and rubbed my shoulders comfortingly.

“Look, guys, let’s just admit that you both went through some horrible things that would make anyone angry and upset and lash at out at others. This meeting was to come to an understanding and move forward together, right? We need to work together if we’re going to get through what comes next,” Neville soothed softly.

“Yeah, I know,” Harry sighed in annoyance.

“You know I’m surprised, Maggie. You have changed,” Hermione commented.

“What d’you mean?” I asked.

“You definitely should have gotten madder than that,” Hermione pointed out.

“Oh bloody hell.” I moaned loudly, burying my face in my hands.

“Alright, so that’s a good segue into why we’re all here today! Telling Hermione and Harry _what happened,_ ” Neville insisted, “Unless, Maggie you do not want to anymore!”

“I do,” I muttered ungraciously, “I do.”

“Alright, well there are conveniently four chairs at this table, let’s all sit down,” Neville urged me over to one of the chairs and I sat, staring down at the tabletop wordlessly.

“Is… Maggie going to _tell_ her story, or…?” Harry asked.

“We have found that I am able to tell the story for her, and then she can provide commentary for anything I may have missed,” Neville explained, “Describing the events in question is triggering for her. I already feel guilty for making her tell me in the first place.”

“Alright,” Hermione soothed. She was sitting next to me; I was across from Harry. She reached out and gently patted my arm.

“So, I’m going to describe the events in chronological order. Is this alright for you, Maggie?” Neville asked.

“I think you should explain the things they mostly know about first. Get it done with,” I muttered into my hands.

“Well, as you know, Maggie thought that Harry was dead in the task when she saw the boggart. Furthermore, imperiused-Angelina put the cruciatus curse on her. Finally, she saw Harry disappear with the cup, and once again thought that he was going to die. All of this happened in a very short span of time,” Neville introduced.

“Yes,” Hermione whispered.

“We know,” Harry sighed.

“Well, two days beforehand… Maggie was studying in the library. Her former boyfriend, who’s name I cannot say without growling angrily, came in drunk,” Neville began.

“Oh no,” Hermione whispered.

“I fucking _knew it_ ,” Harry hissed.

“Yes. He raped her, and then the next day did not realize what he had done – he thought they had had sex, and broke up with Maggie citing her lack of… enthusiasm, I can only assume… as the reason,” Neville explained softly. I buried my head in my arms again.

“Oh Maggie,” Hermione murmured quietly. She reached over and hugged me, and I sobbed heavily into her arms.

“I’m going to murder him. Come on, Neville, we’re going to go take care of that now,” Harry growled, standing up from his chair.

“No,” Neville sighed, “As much as I would love to do so… Maggie has asked us not to. Well, she asked _me_. I can only assume that applies to you as well.”

“How can we go back to school with that bastard and not…” Harry’s words trailed off into angry sounds.

“Because she asked you to, and that’s all you need to stop you,” Hermione insisted sternly.

“Thanks,” I muttered softly.

“But why not, Maggie? Why not give that devil exactly what he deserves?” Harry hissed.

“Because I just want to put it behind me!” I screamed. He looked at me in stunned silence.

“At least for now. I need to live my life and be a person again before I can even _think_ about anything like that,” I whispered softly, “The moment someone t-tells him… the moment this comes out to everyone… is the moment it’s going to be in my face all the time. The moment I’m asked a million questions. The moment someone starts wondering whether or not it was _my_ fault. You know what our society’s like – someone is going to blame me, that’s just how it goes. And I’m not ready to defend myself all the time and talk about it all the time. I’m not ready for that.”

“Exactly,” Hermione nodded in understanding.

“Alright,” Harry sighed, “Yeah, I see what you mean.”

“Does Fred know… _his_ side of the story?” I asked Hermione quietly. Hermione’s face fell.

“No. His twin just told Fred that you two broke up. Wouldn’t say why,” Hermione shook her head.

“I still don’t think he’ll side with the bastard, Hermione, you both just had a misunderstanding,” Neville urged.

“Yes, well, that doesn’t matter. It’s not his fault, but I am very upset by this,” Hermione sighed, “I don’t think I can look past it. I know, that’s horrible of me – Fred never did anything, he’s been a wonderful boyfriend – but I just… if I spend my life with him, I’m spending it with the twin of a man who hurt one of the people I care about most in this world. If was dating – I dunno, _Ron,_ or Ginny or someone – maybe I could look past it. But they look _identical_. I just – I can’t justify that to myself. And let’s all be realistic, here, it was just a short-term relationship anyway. We don’t have any deep sort of compatibility – it was fun. So there you go.” Hermione shrugged, sitting back in her chair silently.

 _Code for: I love Harry, let’s all be real, it’s him or no one_. I looked at her and I couldn’t help it – I smirked.

“Oh look, Maggie’s back at a very inappropriate time,” Hermione rolled her eyes.

“I have done nothing,” I answered defensively.

“Uh huh. Anyway, so what has happened since then – you said the drugs, but… well… we just want to understand what you’ve gone through since everything happened,” Hermione sighed.

“Well… between the task and the other thing… I found my animagus form,” I muttered.

“Wait, _what_?” Harry asked.

“Oh shoot, I haven’t told you,” I groaned.

“You told _Neville_?” Hermione screeched.

“I – yeah,” I muttered sheepishly.

“Wait, you told _Hermione_?” Neville demanded.

“She figured it out!” I cried.

“ _CAN SOMEONE PLEASE FILL ME IN?!_ ” Harry roared at the top of his lungs. Hermione and I both jumped in shock.

“Yes,” Neville rolled his eyes, “Maggie started training to be an animagus with Professor McGonagall in third year, to help her anger issues. Believe it or not, turning into an angry animal actually helps with that. She wasn’t allowed to tell anyone because she wasn’t going to officially register – doesn’t want the Ministry to know, see, until it isn’t corrupt anymore. Well, Hermione figured out because that day in Defense Against the Dark Arts when she turned into a tiger –“

“Oh!” Harry gasped.

“Yeah. Part of the process is trying out different animals, so to speak. Anyway, then she told me because she wanted my help on something involving science, don’t worry about it,” Neville rolled his eyes.

“Try me,” Harry frowned.

“Alright – I turned into what I’m pretty sure is the dinosaurian ancestor for dragons,” I explained, “But it was a _dinosaur_ – meaning there’s at least sixty six million years without any idea of how dragons evolved to be what they are today – so Neville’s been helping me learn science so we can go to muggle school and look for it.”

“Oh,” Harry frowned, “Why didn’t you ask me to help?”

“You hate science!” I laughed, “Neville’s not that good at transfiguration, but this wasn’t really about that – he’s brilliant at herbology! Come on, Harry.”

“Yeah, I guess I understand,” Harry sighed.

“Would you come to me for help with Quidditch?” I demanded.

Harry frowned sheepishly, “No.”

“There you go!”

“Alright, alright. So your final form – what was it?” Harry asked.

I closed my eyes and shifted, perching in the chair.

“Of course,” Hermione groaned.

“Brilliant!” Harry cheered. I laughed, smoke coming out of my mouth.

“Oi! Let’s not set off the smoke detectors!” Neville groaned, waving it away and out the open window.

I shifted back, grinning sheepishly, “Anyway, when I shifted – erm… remember the dragon that saved us second year?”

“Yes…” Harry raised his eyebrows.

“Well, she was with me, and we had a lovely chat. Her name is Herin,” I explained.

“Of _course_ you did,” Harry groaned.

“Anyway, _after_ the task, Herin explained to me… erm… wow, I’m getting tired of saying this,” I groaned, “Herin explained that during the last war, Voldemort and the giants nearly hunted the British dragons to extinction.”

“Yes, I’ve heard of that,” Hermione nodded eagerly, “It was a slaughter, their levels were decimated –“

“Yeah, Herin lost her whole family. Obviously she doesn’t want that to happen again. So… well, she gave me a mission in America,” I sighed.

“A mission?” Hermione asked curiously.

“Well, first while I was in Chicago, I didn’t have the wherewithal to do it. So I spent a good nearly three weeks partying all the time,” I admitted softly, “Did smack, slept around, drank, the whole nine.”

“So… that’s what you were doing,” Harry sighed.

“Yeah,” I mumbled.

“It’s completely understandable,” Hermione reassured fiercely.

“You know, I’m waiting for someone to _not_ say that,” I muttered.

“Anyone who cares about you is going to understand,” Hermione shook her head.

“Anyway… well, at one point I ran into the people that Herin told me to find. See, in America, they go about the whole ‘dragon’ thing a little differently,” I began, “They… they don’t try to _tame_ them. ‘Cause it’s true, you can’t tame dragons. But you can… treat them as equals. So it’s a partnership between two different types of people, really.”

“Oh,” Hermione whispered, “ _Oh_.”

“Yeah. The dragons and humans work together – form their police and military, and loads of people partner up with dragons for their whole lives – and loads of people are dragon animagi, too, well not _loads_ , I mean being an animagus is still hard, but – most animagi are dragon animagi over there. It’s the same in places like China and Japan, I might add. Non-European countries in general have higher numbers of dragon animagi and dragon-human partnerships to boot. Anyway… Herin and the riders back in the States, they want me, as this country’s one and only Halfling, to try and set something like that up. Get the good guys to partner up with the dragons. Some people will come over from America, but mostly we have to work together, so that we have them as an ally – in case the giants join Voldemort – and so that they aren’t as vulnerable as before,” I explained softly.

“So it’s just like everything else with these people!” Hermione shouted, “Giants, dragons, werewolves – it’s all the same!”

“Yup,” I nodded.

“Symptoms of a larger disease – you aren’t pure wizard, no no, you aren’t _pureblood wizard_ , you must be inferior – oooh!” Hermione was shaking with fury, “Oh, I am _so done_ with this! So done!”

“You can’t be, Hermione, we can’t exactly leave this society,” Neville sighed.

“Ooooh!” Hermione growled again, “Oooh I did _not_ sign on for this! Not at all!”

“Well, then, glad to know you guys can help me try and convince Dumbledore,” I sighed.

“Well, _they_ can,” Harry grunted in annoyance.

“Dumbledore won’t really need much convincing – it’s the rest of the Wizarding world!” Hermione hissed, “This is ridiculous, now! Truly ridiculous!”

“What else is new?” Neville asked shrewdly.

“We have to get back to work, then! Hit the stacks! Research everything we can! And now we’re against Voldemort _and_ the Ministry – we’re running out of time…” Hermione groaned.

“In addition, I have to work on this dragon thing,” I shook my head, “And McGonagall and I are doing independent study still…”

“On what?” Harry asked, “If you’re done with your animagus stuff…”

“Same work Gran does,” I shrugged, “McGonagall wants me to be her replacement at Hogwarts so we’re working on it together, now. If I can accomplish something like that – well, no one will question my appointment.”

“I’m doing stuff like that with Sprout,” Neville nodded, “We’ve extracted the curse blocker protein… it only works on stuff up to stunners, but still, we’re extracting it in droves and bottling it. And then I want to try and selectively breed some new plants… it’s all part of being selected to replace a professor at that school, it’s not exactly something you can try out for. The old professor picks the new one.”

“Guess you don’t have to worry about your future careers, then,” Harry commented in shock.

“No,” I frowned, “Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay. It would have been kind of cool for us all to be aurors together, though. We could have done it,” Harry smiled slightly.

“Since we’re in the middle of a war that isn’t going to end any time soon the way the Ministry is acting, we’re going to be de-facto aurors anyway, let’s be honest here,” Hermione groaned, “And I might as well come clean to you boys, too,” Neville scowled imperceptibly, “I also am training to be an animagus, but only because – well, with Sirius and everything – it seemed like a useful skill. I’ll be starting back up my transformations when we go back to school.”

“Oh,” Harry gasped.

“I only knew cause I would run into McGonagall’s office during their sessions,” I shrugged.

“Do you know… what kind of animal you’re going to be?” Neville asked.

“Some sort of bird,” Hermione sighed, “McGonagall was upset for a few minutes there because I was turning into dinosaurs – she said ‘I can’t have two of you!’ – but I’ve pretty steadily been birds for a while now.”

I grinned happily, “We could fly together!”

“Provided I’m not something flightless, yes,” Hermione nodded.

“Alright, I’m coming clean too. I can’t deal with this from everyone,” Neville finally grunted.

“What – you can’t be becoming an animagus, you’re worse at transfiguration than me!” Harry protested.

“No, of course I’m not, don’t be ridiculous – I’d probably kill myself – no…” Neville looked at me in terror and I nodded silently.

“I’m not a boy,” Neville stated calmly.

“Are you… a girl?” Harry asked in confusion.

“Nope,” Neville shook his head, “I’m _neither._ I’m nothing. The term is agender.”

“Oh! Neville, I’m so sorry – I shouldn’t have –“ Hermione began.

“No, it’s fine, you had no idea. I still am fine with my name, and my body, and the male pronouns or what have you – I’m just… I’m not a boy. I don’t identify with the _idea_ of gender, much less a specific one. I haven’t been able to express this greater than my… long-ish hair, cause of Gran and my fear of telling anyone, but… yeah,” Neville shrugged, “Maggie’s known since I started questioning.”

“That’s great, Neville,” Harry smiled supportively.

“Really, we’re so proud of you,” Hermione beamed.

“Just, yeah. Stop using the word boy, and erm, when I finally have the courage to use makeup, or paint my nails, or wear a skirt… don’t flip out,” Neville shrugged.

“Of course not!” Hermione reassured.

“You be you, Neville,” Harry smiled.

“I’m also pansexual, same as Maggie,” Neville finished, “But it’s not really that big of a deal, when I already do away with the concept of gender for myself.”

“I mean, I don’t identify that strongly with ‘woman,’ but I don’t really care enough about it,” I shrugged, “I identify with _dragon_ more than _woman_.”

“So you’re… still a girl?” Hermione asked, smirking.

“Yeah, I guess,” I shrugged, “Like, who cares?”

“Society, unfortunately,” Harry snorted.

“Damn society ruining everyone’s lives with arbitrary things like ‘categories’ and ‘labels,’” Neville laughed.

“You do realize what this means, though?” I asked. They all shook their heads.

“Harry is our token cisgender heterosexual!” I laughed.

“Wait, what?” Harry asked.

“I’m… I’m asexual, Harry,” Hermione admitted, “And… I’ve only felt romantic attraction twice, too, so I’m something with that.”

“Fred, and…?” Harry asked.

Neville coughed awkwardly.

“I’d rather not say, if that’s okay,” Hermione shrugged, managing to hide embarrassment amazingly well.

“Well... okay then,” Harry looked more embarrassed than all of us, “Wow. I am the token one.”

“We love you, Harry,” Neville reassured, grinning.

“Yeah,” Hermione laughed, “Don’t worry about it.”

“Every group needs a weird one,” I teased. Harry stuck his tongue out at me.

“On that cheerful note, though, you all have ridiculous lives – animagi, crusading for justice, looking for dragon bones, breeding amazing plants, _dragons in general_ – what do I have?” Harry groaned.

“ _You’re Harry Potter!_ ” the three of us shouted in unison. Harry flushed brilliantly.

“Well there’s that,” he admitted.

“You’re like, the _king_ of defensive magic,” Neville nodded.

“You could wipe the floor with us any day in a duel,” I agreed.

“You are easily the bravest person in this room,” Hermione reassured.

“You actually have athletic skill,” I smirked.

“You’re one of the best people I know, too – you never judge anyone for anything. A typical cisgender heterosexual guy – you know, someone without much societal oppression – they wouldn’t be as on board with how queer their friends are so easily,” Neville snorted.

“Well, I love you guys – and who cares if someone doesn’t have a gender, or is attracted to all genders, or doesn’t have sexual attraction, or whatever – like, who cares about that stuff?” Harry shrugged, “Doesn’t change how I feel about you all. I just want you to be happy with who you are, and able to _tell_ me about this stuff.”

“But see what we mean, Harry? You’re a wonderful guy,” Hermione urged.

“And with everything that’s happened to you… your parents getting killed, getting thrown into a war that you never asked for, always having to defeat Voldy-pants… a lot of people wouldn’t turn out like that,” I insisted.

“I… guess you’re right,” Harry mumbled sheepishly.

“Speaking of,” I turned to the others, “Can someone let me know what’s happening in the war, now? I think I’m okay enough to hear it.”

“You sure?” Neville asked worriedly, “You don’t have to dive into the deep end of the pool, yet –“

“No, I’m sure. Having you guys around… I really feel like my old self again,” I felt tears come to my eyes.

Harry stood up and pulled me out of my seat and into a long hug. Hermione quickly came over and hugged me from behind as well. Neville wrapped his arms around the three of us – it was unfair how much taller he was – and I laughed weakly from the middle of the huddle.

“I’m choking, guys, come on!” I laughed.

“Oh I’m so happy,” Hermione sighed. We all looked at her questioningly.

“I have my family back,” Hermione said, now having tears in her own eyes. We all went over and hugged her as well.

“Okay, now I can’t breathe!” Hermione gasped from the middle of the hug.

“So what do we call ourselves? In this new era of oh my god Voldemort is back let’s stick together no more secrets seriously guys we have to be honest with each other?” I asked.

“I really don’t think we’re going to end up calling this period of our lives ‘oh my god Voldemort is back let’s stick together no more secrets seriously guys we have to be honest with each other,’” Harry snorted. Neville roared with laughter.

“Team Potter!” Hermione urged.

“Oh god,” Harry groaned.

“That is the worst name I’ve ever heard,” I agreed.

“No, never, never ever,” Neville blanched.

“Does anyone have any better ideas?” Hermione asked defensively. We all looked at each other silently for a few moments.

“Okay, I’ve got nothing, but I _will_ come up with something better, you mark my words Granger,” I declared.

“Anyway, yes, let’s fill Maggie in,” Hermione sighed, sitting back down at the table.

“What’s going on with the war?” I asked eagerly, looking around at all of them.

“Well… er… as we had to tell Harry… erm… we haven’t known much,” Neville explained sheepishly.

“I… sort of screamed at them for not telling me anything over the summer,” Harry sighed, flushing with embarrassment.

“It was pretty bad,” Hermione agreed, “Dumbledore was really odd about telling Harry anything – and since he figured that you two were still, well, thick as thieves, we couldn’t tell you either…”

“Not surprising,” I frowned, “ _Why_ doesn’t he want Harry to know anything?”

“We really have no idea,” Neville sighed, “None. He just told us not to tell Harry or you anything and that’s all.”

“But now, obviously, they can’t hide anything from me, since I’ve been living in bloody Headquarters,” Harry muttered.

“Right – so the Order of the Phoenix has reconvened, obviously – you know what that is, right?” Hermione began.

“Yeah,” I nodded.

“There’s a lot of people – at least thirty – probably more,” she continued, “But we don’t get to go into the meetings… the age restriction.”

“I know about that. Sam’s parents were still in school when they died and they were killed,” I nodded, “I think as teenagers.”

“Yeah, their seventh year they had Sam and were killed, though I don’t think they were actually in school,” Hermione frowned.

“Sam’s at headquarters, too. The Weasleys, Sam, Claire’s whole family, and Luna. Seems that they were all deemed to be in danger at their own homes,” Neville sighed.

“What’s Sam’s aunt like?” I asked curiously.

“Stern. It’s so strange, with Sam like he is,” Hermione frowned, “She does a lot of recruitment work for the Order…”

“Yeah, we did manage to find out some things,” Neville interrupted, “There are people following known Death Eaters, keeping tabs on them… loads of people are trying to recruit… and there are lots of people who are guarding something… we think it’s at the Ministry, actually.”

“Weird,” I frowned.

“There haven’t been many suspicious deaths, as far as we know,’ Hermione continued, “Voldemort’s been keeping quiet. He doesn’t want to draw attention to himself.”

“’Parently I messed up his return. He was supposed to come back in secret; my surviving and telling everyone put a wee dent in his plans,” Harry grinned at me, the first time I had seen him really smile in ages.

“So Dumbledore knew right away, and well, Dumbledore’s the one person Voldemort was ever scared of, wasn’t he?” Neville grinned too, “So Voldemort had to stay in hiding still – and the Order reconvened straight away.”

“And it’s been working to stop all of Voldemort’s plans,” Hermione nodded.

“Like what?” I asked curiously.

“Well, he wants to build up his army, obviously. Loads of dark creatures, the Death Eaters, people who have everything to gain by joining him, people he can bully into following him – you know, the expected ones,” Harry explained.

“They’re trying to get people to know Voldemort’s back – that’ll help curtail the number of followers he can gather,” Neville furthered.

“It’s really difficult, though. The Ministry’s been… terrible,” Hermione sighed.

“Understatement of the century,” Harry grunted.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Maggie, well… you haven’t been keeping up with the news…” Neville grimaced.

“You remember all the horrible stuff that Rita wrote about Harry and us all last year, yes?” Hermione introduced brusquely.

“Yeah, but I thought you caught her –“ I frowned, “I mean, my memories from after the task and before Chicago are hazy, but…”

“No, I did,” Hermione responded proudly, “It’s not _her_ , it’s everyone else – they’re building off of what she did.”

“It’s little things in the paper, see – they’ll say that a really ridiculous story is ‘a tale worthy of Harry Potter,’ or if there’s some sort of violence that happens they’ll say that you must have been involved, or if there’s some sort of nefarious romantic scandal they’ll say ‘they learned their tricks from Hermione Granger,’ and my favorites are all the ones when there’s an accident due to incompetence cause then they mention me,” Neville scowled heavily, “Woman says _one word_ about how I don’t ‘measure up to my friends’ –“

“You selectively breeded a curse-blocking plant!” I roared in outrage.

“Right?” Neville rolled his eyes.

“So the public… doesn’t believe Harry’s story. Won’t believe any of us, either,” Hermione sighed, “And Fudge is scared of Dumbledore, you know. Thinks that he is plotting to overthrow him. Stirring up all this as trouble to take him down.”

“That’s bullshit!” I shouted.

“Apparently accepting Voldemort’s back would mean trouble like the Ministry hasn’t had for fourteen years,” Harry muttered angrily, “so while the Ministry is saying there is nothing to fear, it’s nearly impossible to convince people that there _is_ something to fear. And the _Daily Prophet_ is also saying negative shite about Dumbledore, too, which doesn’t help.”

“There are some people telling others – we’ve gotten Kingsley Shacklebolt, and of course Tonks joined up,” Hermione reassured.

“Tonks!” I gasped, “How is she?”

“Worried about you,” Hermione frowned, “We all are. She’s an auror now.”

I sighed heavily.

“Dumbledore’s in trouble because he’s doing most of the work getting the word out,” Hermione continued, “So he’s being consistently discredited by the Ministry – he’s been voted out of the Chairmanship of the International Confederation of Wizards after he made a speech announcing Voldemort’s return, he was demoted from Chief Warlock on the Wizengamot – and he might get his Order of Merlin, First Class taken away. He could end up in Azkaban if he carries on like this.”

I frowned angrily, “What else is Voldemort up to? He can’t just be looking for new followers.”

“No,” Harry scowled angrily.

“He’s trying to get this… weapon,” Neville muttered, “The order won’t say what it is, but it’s something he didn’t have last time.”

“Did they give any hint at all?” I asked desperately.

“No, but we reckon that’s what they’ve been guarding,” Harry sighed, “They always go on about guard duty.”

“Frankly, I don’t even think everyone in the Order knows,” Hermione shook her head furiously, “I think they only know that they have to guard something… I bet only a few people know the specifics.”

“Like who?” I asked.

“Well…” Neville looked at Hermione and Harry for a minute, “Snape’s a member of the Order, now. He always acts very self-important.”

“Like he knows more than the rest of us,” Harry grunted angrily.

“And obviously Dumbledore knows,” Hermione interjected.

“Voldemort doesn’t need a weapon stronger than _Avada kedavra_ or the cruciatus curse – maybe it’s something to kill a lot of people at once?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” Hermione frowned, “I think it might be something different than something to wreak havoc with… there are other weapons in war, you know.”

“Like information?” I asked.

“How could they be _guarding_ information, though?” Neville shook his head.

“At any rate, we have no idea, and we haven’t been able to find out anything else just by living at Headquarters,” Hermione sighed.

“It’s just the kids who live at Headquarters,” Neville explained, “And families. Most Order members just pop in.”

“Where did they find to set up shop? I mean, how’d they find that house?” I asked.

“It’s… Sirius’ family home,” Harry sighed, “He ran away when he was sixteen. They’re… pretty bad, the Blacks.”

“Right up there with Voldemort’s top supporters. Bellatrix Lestrange is his cousin,” Neville muttered darkly. Harry gave him a long look.

“We’ve spent most of our time cleaning, actually,” Hermione interjected hurriedly, “Trying to get rid of all the dark stuff from the place. It’s been _awful_. You haven’t missed anything.”

I sighed heavily, “So what do we do, then?”

“Well you have your mission,” Hermione paused, “And I think it’s valuable for the four of us to keep doing what we’ve been doing, since it’s related to the issues underlying everything. Other than that… we can’t do much. Your mum’s been adamant about us doing nothing since we’re underage, Maggie.”

“All the adults have been,” Harry scowled, “it’s ridiculous. I’ve done _more_ than some of them –“

“Yes, well, lots of people died in the last war, young people,” Hermione shook her head, “None of them are likely to move on from that. I think Tonks is the youngest member of the order, really. Or Charlie.”

“What about Percy?” I asked curiously, “I assume the twins aren’t aloud as they’re still in school.”

All three of them shared a dark look.

“Oh no,” I whispered.

“Percy has split from his family and joined the side of the Ministry,” Neville stated simply, “The rift was unpleasant.”

“Ah,” I nodded.

“Bill has moved back from Egypt, though, he’s working here to try and get the goblins on our side. Charlie’s still in Romania, Dumbledore wants as many foreign wizards as possible, which is probably why he’ll jump at what news you have to bring,” Hermione explained.

“Speaking of that family,” Harry frowned at me apologetically, “I’m really sorry for giving him the money from the Tournament.”

Neville and Hermione both groaned in realization.

“You gave it to both of them, and Fred has done nothing wrong. You’re right, we’ll all need a laugh,” I shook my head, “It’s okay.”

“You’re allowed to be mad about stuff, Maggie. He did a horrible thing to you,” Hermione whispered. I stared at them all sadly.

“The thing about being broken, guys, is that you’re never quite the same afterwards,” I muttered, “I don’t get mad much anymore. The closest I get is extreme determination… I don’t think I could get mad at him if I tried, anymore.”

Neville looked heartbroken. Hermione looked troubled. Harry looked furious.

“Well, if you ever get any of that old Maggie spirit back, you should direct it at him first, not at Voldemort, not at the Ministry, _him_ ,” Harry snapped angrily, standing up from his chair and walking over to the kitchen counter angrily.

“Look, you guys… I really appreciate the sentiment, but you have to trust me, I need to have some peace from the thoughts that have been haunting me from nearly two months,” I muttered.

“Of course,” Hermione reassured hurriedly.

“I’m sorry,” Harry muttered.

“It’s okay,” I got up and went to hug him around the middle, “I’m just glad to be back.”

“I’m glad too,” Harry smiled at me weakly, “I really need you with us… I need help.”

“And I’m not going to leave again,” I whispered, “I promise.”

We all sat down together and had dinner; Neville and I managed to make fish and chips without burning it all. We then spent the rest of the evening watching movies together and laughing at them. When night fell, Hermione slept on the couch and Harry on the nice living chair to the side of the telly. That night, I didn’t even wake up with a nightmare – I was so joyful to have, as Hermione said, my family back, that the joy carried me through the whole night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wooo! The gang's back together everyone! Wooo! Please leave a comment!! Thank you all for your lovely comments so far :)


	52. Chapter Fifty - One: August 18, 1995, London

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "We are not brave 
> 
> We are not wise 
> 
> We stand at the end of the longest lines 
> 
> But we stand here all together 
> 
> We have been damned 
> 
> We have survived 
> 
> We came back to homes we don't recognize 
> 
> But we return here all together." 
> 
> ~ Rise Against, "Zero Visibility"

Chapter 51: August 18, 1995, London

I woke up that morning, still overjoyed, and that state was increased by Neville’s arms wrapped tightly around me. I sighed happily and nestled deeper into them, not really feeling quite like getting up yet. I turned and looked at his face – he was still sleeping. I watched him sleep for a few minutes before finally climbing out of bed, walking out into the kitchen.

Hermione was still asleep on the couch, but Harry was awake, and was looking in our fridge.

“We have eggs, if you want some,” I offered quietly. Harry jumped slightly and turned around sheepishly.

“What is this place, by the way?” Harry asked in a whisper, looking at me curiously.

“Neville’s parents’ place,” I explained, “Don’t ask what happened to them, I can’t get it out of Neville.”

Harry nodded, though his facial expression was odd.

“I’m sorry I didn’t look for you,” he muttered softly.

“It’s not your fault –“

“No, but you’re my sister. I should have done something,” Harry shook his head sadly, “It’s okay. That’s all over… what did you even do for that week?”

“I ran,” I shrugged, “I stole some money… slept on roofs… snuck into a gym to take a shower… usual homeless stuff.”

Harry looked horrified, “You had to steal?”

“Of course. I needed to eat,” I sighed, “I feel terrible, but I don’t even know who I stole from; I can’t go and make reparations or anything.”

“Well, at least it’s over now,” Harry looked comforted by the thought, “And you won’t do it again.”

“Unless for some reason I’m homeless again,” I looked at him earnestly.

“Why would you be? We all know now, we understand,” Harry frowned.

“We never thought I would be homeless in the first place!” I urged, “Look, shit happens, and we’re at war. I’m not going to run away again, I just… who knows what’s on the road ahead.”

“True,” Harry sighed heavily, pouring a glass of juice, “So what do we do till then?”

“We prepare. Like for the task,” I looked at him earnestly, “We have to prepare to fight.”

“We’re already pretty prepared if you ask me,” Harry muttered irritably.

“Good point,” I laughed softly.

“Honestly, with the Ministry the way it is, I feel more like starting a rebellion than anything else,” Harry paused, “We don’t need to _train_ to fight, we need to _fight_.”

“What if we started a group?” I asked softly. Harry snorted.

“No, seriously, a resistance group. Used it to spread awareness. Just a small student one, like… a kid’s Order of the Phoenix,” I suggested.

“A kid’s Order of the Phoenix,” Harry replied skeptically.

“Yeah, I mean why not?” I frowned, “We need more people behind us, Harry.”

“Yeah, and I also don’t feel like getting arrested by the Ministry for inciting rebellion,” Harry snorted.

“It would be underground,” I shook my head, “Just a way to get the word out. Spread awareness at the level of our own peer group. If we can persuade the kids, maybe it’ll trickle to the parents.”

“That’s not a terrible idea,” Hermione responded groggily behind me. She stretched, getting off the couch and stumbling over to the table, “I mean, we have to do _something_.”

“How would we even recruit people?” Harry muttered irritably.

“I dunno – word of mouth? Most of the Gryffindors, I reckon, are still on your side. And Luna and Sam can talk to Ravenclaws,” I suggested.

“Still leaves the Hufflepuffs,” Harry frowned.

“Hufflepuffs – oh I have no doubt they’ll come,” I shook my head, “No doubt – think about this, Harry. We need a platform to talk to people that isn’t tainted by the Ministry – we need to create our own.”

“The Ministry _can’t_ stop us from grouping up – it’s our right,” Hermione paused, “At least, in the eyes of the law.”

“What if they stop us at school? Make up some bullshit school rule about – I dunno, clubs or something?” Harry pursed his lips together into a thin line.

“Well since when have we cared about the rules?” I smirked.

“We’d make the group before they put up some kind of rule – and then after then we’d already have recruited,” Hermione matched my expression, “It’s worth a try.”

“Have we gathered enough info?” Neville called behind us. We turned around to see him stumble groggily out of the bedroom and sit in the final chair at the table, yawning and rubbing his eyes.

“I think so. We’ve all done extensive research,” Hermione paused, “And we can keep gathering more information.”

“Make it part of the group’s mission – have them help us gather data,” Neville nodded.

Harry looked at all of us in bemusement for sighing heavily.

“Oh all _right_ ,” he groaned, “I just don’t want us to attract unnecessary attention to ourselves. We’re all on thin ice with the Ministry as it is.”

“That’s really it, isn’t it?” Hermione grinned sneakily. We all looked at her in amusement.

“We’re already in trouble. We might as well keep causing it,” she snorted.

“I just, want you to look at yourself, and think about your past,” Harry stated, “Just, really think about who you were first year.”

“Oh please, none of us are who we were first year,” Hermione rolled her eyes, “It’s been four years. Get with the program, Potter.”

Harry groaned loudly and got up to grab more food.

“So what are you both going to do today?” Neville asked, “You don’t have to keep staying here –“

“Well, we would go back, but I’ve missed you so much, Maggie, I don’t want to leave,” Hermione responded sheepishly.

“You don’t have to,” I responded earnestly, “Really. I had the best sleep last night that I’ve had in two months.”

“I noticed you didn’t wake up,” Neville commented.

“You’re usually asleep when I do,” I frowned at him.

“When you wake up, I wake up. I just don’t act like it,” Neville muttered. I thought of the kiss I had given him on the cheek and flushed madly.

“How are you going to sleep when we go back to school, Maggie?” Hermione asked softly.

“I dunno. On the one hand, I don’t want to draw attention to the situation, especially the attention of one person. On the other hand, I enjoy sleeping,” I groaned.

“McGonagall is going to set something up so we _can_ continue if we want to,” Neville continued, “But we’ll have to see how discrete we can be about it.”

“We’re just sleeping,” I muttered softly.

“Which is why I’m sure McGonagall will help you,” Hermione reassured, “You need to sleep. It’s our O.W.L. year!”

Neville, Harry and I groaned in unison.

“You’ll all be _fine_ ,” Hermione reassured.

“Yes, I’m sure. And then, next year, we can all be homeless together,” Harry grunted in annoyance.

“You will all be _fine_ ,” Hermione repeated, now looking annoyed, “Don’t be ridiculous!”

“Look at the facts, Hermione. Maggie and Harry both have PTSD. You and I are both Prefects. The war started up again. The Ministry is busy discrediting us. We have a lot of circumstances _already_ floating in the air that’s going to make it hard for us to focus on our studies and the year _hasn’t even started yet_. Every year something strange happens to distract us and we never start out with this much against us as is! First year – philosopher’s stone. Second year – chamber of secrets. Third year – Sirius Black. Fourth year – Tournament! For the love of God, Hermione, we’re screwed!” Neville groaned.

“Then we have to focus!” Hermione shrieked, “I’m _not_ having us all _lose the war before it’s even started_ because we failed to keep up. I’m keeping you all on tight schedules!”

“Great,” I muttered.

“Of course,” Harry groaned, putting his hands over his eyes.

“You know what else we should do?” Neville commented after a long pause. We all looked at him.

“Keep practicing with non-magical weaponry. It’ll come in handy – it already has. What if we need to go on the run or something? I mean, we are all still underage – we can’t use magic outside of Hogwarts!” Neville reminded.

“Oh yeah,” I agreed, “That’s true.”

“How are we going to fit _that_ in with starting up a rebellion?” Harry snorted.

“Spend less time chasing a mystery? Maybe there won’t be one this year,” I offered.

“Ha!” Harry laughed, “That’s a good one.”

“We already have a mystery, Maggie,” Hermione frowned.

“Er… what?”

“The weapon,” Hermione clarified.

“Oh yeah,” I frowned, “ _That_ thing.”

“So I vote we enjoy our last few weeks of summer holidays, eh?” Neville interjected, “Come on, we’re all back together again – we have some time to kill – Maggie’s not ready to go to Headquarters yet, I don’t think – let’s explore London!”

“What’s there to see?” Hermione laughed, “I’ve lived here my whole life.”

Neville’s face fell, “Right.”

“Oh I’m just kidding,” Hermione reassured, “Of _course_ we should go exploring. I just think Harry and I need to go back to Headquarters and get changed – have a shower – normal cleanliness things.”

“You all should get Oysters, too,” I commented.

“I have one. It’s topped up,” Hermione assured.

“Oyster?” Harry frowned.

“Transit card,” Neville clarified, “Maggie bought one with… well, her stolen goods. I got one with the money Gran gave me – Hermione obviously has one cause she lives here – you should get some money and we can get you one so we can get around the city.”

“Alright, we’ll go to Gringotts too, then,” Harry shrugged, “I’ll get gold from my vault and exchange it.”

“Where should we go?” Hermione asked.

“British Museum?” I offered, “I haven’t been yet.”

“It’s free!” Neville agreed, grinning.

“Yay, stolen relics from other cultures,” Hermione scowled.

“Might as well _see_ the stolen relics if they’re just going to sit there?” I grimaced.

“Well there’s that,” Hermione sighed.

“I’d like to see them,” Harry nodded.

“Alright, then it’s settled. You two – go off, get clean, go to Gringotts. Can we meet back here at say, noon?” Neville asked. They both nodded, gave us hugs, and left. I turned to Neville and smiled.

“You doing alright?” he asked softly. I nodded.

“I’m really doing great. Seeing them was hard at first, but – talking about everything – it’s really helped,” I explained.

“There’s definitely something to be said for not shouldering the burden all on your own,” Neville agreed.

“I’m going to shower, are you okay out here?” I asked. He nodded and I gave him a long hug before doing so. I then got dressed into my new style – the first time I had gone back to looking punk in weeks – as he went to go shower. I then sat down and watched telly – nothing on except that American television show _Friends_ , which was admittedly hilarious. He came out wearing just his towel, and I quickly looked away as my face flushed horrifically, trying to not let on how flustered the sight made me as he walked into the bedroom without a word. I began fidgeting in my seat with – well, for lack of a better word, extreme turned-on-ness.

 _Bullocks_ , I thought sadly. I still wasn’t recovered enough for a relationship – I just wasn’t. And we had so many other irons in the fire that I didn’t even want to try and deal with that sort of emotional hurdle yet – because if Neville and I became a thing, I really needed to know about his parents.

 _If we become a couple, that’s it for me. He’s it,_ I thought shrewdly. It wasn’t that I wasn’t attracted to other people, romantically and sexually – by god, I was – I just knew that, between everything Neville and I had been through, our understanding of each other, and our compatibility, in _addition_ to my very strong attraction to him on all levels – I wouldn’t end it willingly. And I needed to know about his parents. And I needed to be ready for that kind of… seriousness.

He came back out and sat next to me, looking at me curiously.

“So, you wear that stuff, not to go out to a club or sommat?” Neville asked. I was wearing my thigh-high boots (without heels, for the record; I wasn’t about that life), jean shorts, blue tank top, black leather jacket, and fingerless fishnet gloves again. I had also put on my thick, black eyeliner again.

“It’s called punk,” I responded cheekily, “I like it.”

“Alright, alright,” Neville rolled his eyes, “You just look very… edgy.”

“What part of my life _isn’t_ edgy?” I retorted, “I’m a rebellious person. I should look the part.”

“Well there’s that. But we’re _all_ rebellious and we don’t all dress like that,” Neville joked.

“No, but you decidedly dress grunge,” I teased. Neville looked down at his flannel shirt, black boots and torn jeans for a long moment.

“I really can’t argue with you,” he admitted sheepishly.

“And so does Harry. Hermione is the only one of us who looks even somewhat clean-cut, and let’s face it, her parents are dentists,” I snorted, “She has to dress like that.”

“The day Hermione goes out and buys her own clothes will be an interesting one,” Neville agreed.

“Will she continue to look posh? Or will her allegiances change?” I giggled.

“I really cannot picture Hermione looking punk. If she looks anything it’ll be grunge,” Neville groaned.

“Hermione with thick black eyeliner!” I giggled.

“Hermione with _that_ outfit!” Neville nodded at me, grinning.

“Oi!” I shouted, swatting at his arm. He continued to grin cheekily at me.

“Can I say something? In regards to our conversation yesterday,” I clarified.

“Erm, sure,” Neville shrugged.

“Well… it occurred to me why Ginny might have been in a rush when you were together,” I muttered sheepishly.

“Why?” Neville asked hesitantly.

“Well, she’s in love with Harry, right? You guys spent your entire relationship acknowledging that you were both in love with other people,” I frowned, “Harry’s one and only known attraction was with Cho – a much older, and quite frankly, _busty_ girl. She probably convinced herself that she needed to be ready for that kind of thing to be with Harry.”

“Yeah, I kind of figured that after a while,” Neville sighed.

“Didn’t you say once that she and Harry were spending a lot of time together in my absence?” I continued.

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean… anything,” Neville didn’t look convinced by his own words.

“I’m just worried. I don’t mind if they date, really, but I don’t know how to feel – should I be upset that Hermione’s heartbroken? Should I root for them to break up? But I don’t want Ginny to be heartbroken, either – but the only way both of them end up fine in the end is if Ginny breaks it off with Harry, and I don’t want _him_ heartbroken either – I just – I don’t know what to feel,” I sighed, “I care about all three of them a lot.”

“I think we just have to stay out of it,” Neville declared firmly, “Harry, Ginny and Hermione can all figure it out themselves. And… the only reason we’d ever intervene is if Harry _told_ us he had feelings for Hermione.”

“And if he does that, then we urge him to ask her out, because for the love of god she’ll say yes,” I nodded in agreement.

“Sounds perfect,” Neville sighed, “I don’t think it’s our place to meddle more than that.”

“No, it’s decidedly not,” I paused, “Do you and Harry talk about things like crushes at all?”

“Yeah, a little… I mean we share a dormitory. Bonding happens. I’ve talked to Harry about… some of that stuff… since the end of third year. Harry started talking to me about it last year, before the Yule Ball and everything,” Neville frowned, “He hasn’t been interested in anyone since Cho, as far as I’m aware.”

“But you’ve also been with me since he got back, really, you haven’t had time to talk much,” I pointed out.

“This is true,” Neville sighed, “I mean, out looking for you or with you, either way, I haven’t been available to chat… He could very well be falling for Ginny. Or Hermione, or someone else, for that matter.”

“He doesn’t really talk to me much about it,” I admitted, “I mean, he’s mentioned things, but there is something awkward with the fact that I’m his sister. And obviously he wouldn’t talk about it with Hermione, or at least, I hope he wouldn’t, since that would decidedly make them platonic.”

“Yeah,” Neville nodded, “I don’t think he has. I’ll try to get him to open up sometime before school starts.”

“Good,” I agreed, looking at my watch, “They won’t be here for a bit yet, want to watch a movie?”

“ _Jurassic Park_ again?” Neville suggested eagerly, bouncing slightly in his seat.

“Honestly, you’re going to break the tape,” I muttered, but I smiled as I did so, putting the tape in. We sat and watched the movie silently, cheering together at parts and commenting on the ridiculousness of others.

“Okay,” Neville stated as the movie got to the end, “How the hell does Gulper get into the Visitor’s Center? There’s no crash – no sound to indicate she broke a wall – and there definitely isn’t a door big enough for her to enter!”

“These are truly the big questions of our time,” I laughed as Gulper fought off the raptors.

“Really, they’ll define our generation. _How_ ,” Neville shook his head. The credits started rolling.

“Phil Tippett!” I laughed at the screen, “You had one job, Phil!”

“One job!” Neville agreed, grinning, “You didn’t do it!”

“People died, Phil!” I giggled.

“What kind of a dinosaur supervisor are you?” Neville chortled.

“ _One job, Phil_!” I snorted.

“THERE WERE RAPTORS IN THE KITCHEN!” Neville screeched with mirth.

“This is why we can’t have nice things!” I giggled uncontrollably.

“Raptors all up in the kitchen! Everywhere! In the kitchen!” Neville was doubled over with laughter.

“This wasn’t amateur hour, Phil!” my sides were starting to hurt as I gasped that out between laughs.

We both laughed for a long time until a knock issued on the door. We got up and beamed at Harry and Hermione, who had bags slung over their shoulders.

“We’re going to stay for a while,” Hermione explained, “Until Maggie’s ready to go back to Headquarters.”

“We said we would help speed your recovery, but really we miss you guys,” Harry admitted sheepishly.

“I’m totally okay with this, I just question how you guys are going to continue to sleep on a couch and an armchair,” I snorted.

“We conveniently had sleeping bags, apparently,” Harry rolled his eyes, “We’ll take turns using the couch.”

“Unless we’re going to make it a party in the bed,” Hermione snorted.

“There’s… barely enough room for the two of us,” Neville lied.

“Uh huh,” Hermione scoffed.

“ _Sure_ ,” Harry responded sarcastically. I swatted him on the arm as he set down his bag.

“Let’s go!” Neville urged, his face flushed, and he was probably hoping to change the subject. We all walked out to the street below, walking together to the tube station. We then rode all the way to the British Museum and got out, laughing and chatting with each other like old times. I was still subdued, and Harry was still angry, but it almost felt like before.

We finally reached the Museum and had a wonderful time inside of it, looking at all the exhibits, enjoying the relics, exploring every inch of the place until it grew dark outside and the museum closed. We left in a group, the night air filling our lungs as we stood outside of the architecturally pleasing building.

“Gotta say, mummies are cool, when they’re dead and in a glass case,” Harry commented.

“I’m glad you added that disclaimer, otherwise I’d make it my life’s mission to have you meet a mummy that was able to walk,” I snorted.

“And then sarcastically throw it back in your face that at one point you said mummies were cool,” Neville agreed.

“Let’s not go seeking out great monstrous beings, alright? They find us well enough on their own,” Hermione sighed, “Should we go eat something?”

“Probably,” Neville admitted. My stomach growled loudly and that fueled his resolve; we all wandered through the streets, looking for a place that was open. We eventually found a pizza parlor and all huddled inside, sitting down and eagerly ordering food.

“I forgot how nice it is to explore London,” Hermione admitted, “I’ve spent my whole life just sort of… _living_ here.”

“I, meanwhile, am happy just to explore in a simple way. With a bed to go home to at the end of it,” I sighed.

“That must have been so terrifying,” Hermione frowned, “What if someone had attacked you while you slept?”

“The thought haunts me,” Neville whispered quietly.

“Well, I typically slept on roofs of old, mostly abandoned buildings,” I clarified, “Where no one would think to look for someone. Once I slept in the Crystal Palace Gardens, which was nice – I was on dirt, so it was closer to a bed than the hard concrete or gravel of a roof. And then once I had to sleep underneath an arch in an alleyway, which was definitely nerve-wracking, but it was raining and I had developed a very bad cough, and I knew if I slept in the open rain again I might not survive.”

“Oh Maggie,” Neville whispered.

“You slept in the open rain?” Hermione gasped, “Didn’t you get soaked?”

“Well, yeah,” I sighed, “I had to find a Launderette and dry my clothes. I eventually did, I still had some stuff that was mostly dry available to wear while I did it and everything.”

“Didn’t it occur to you to try and come home while you were soaking wet?” Harry asked, “I mean, you had to be regretting your choice at some point.”

“Second day,” I admitted, “I was very lonely and I regretted it from that moment on. But I didn’t really know how to get back… Headquarters is secret-kept. I had no inkling. The day before Neville found me – the day I got my Hogwarts letter – I basically resolved to go back to Hogwarts and then go home again from there.”

“If you survived that long,” Harry muttered.

“I was getting a bad cough,” I acknowledged.

“You could have died!” Hermione sobbed.

“Well I didn’t,” I shrugged silently, “And… well, sometime between vowing to go back to Hogwarts and feeling lonely, I don’t think I would have minded much.”

Neville made a choked sound and Harry reached out to hold my hand across the table.

“Look, with everything that’s happened to me, I’m surprised I haven’t had more suicidal thoughts. I’m fine now, alright? I’m not going to do anything stupid… well, nothing _that_ level of stupid, anymore,” I admitted, “I can’t make a sweeping declaration because let’s face it even Hermione does stupid things sometimes.”

“It’s true,” Hermione admitted.

“But seriously, I’m being more open with my mental state now, alright? Everything’s out on the table. Between you lot and McGonagall I’m going to be fine,” I reassured.

“As long as everything really _is_ out on the table,” Hermione muttered.

“It is!” I insisted.

“Really? You sure?” Hermione stared at me intensely.

“I am!” I looked at them all earnestly, “Really, I am!”

“Alright,” Hermione sighed.

“Let’s focus on other things. Hermione – how is Fred taking the news that you’re going to be gone for a bit?” Neville asked.

“With relief, I assume,” Hermione responded tartly, eagerly grabbing a slice of pizza as it was delivered to our table.

“What d’you mean?” I asked curiously.

“I mean we broke up when we got back,” Hermione sighed, “I told you, I couldn’t be with him after I found out what his twin did – it’s not his fault, I just… can’t.”

“Oh,” I frowned, “I’m sorry… I feel responsible.”

“You’re not, the great prat is,” Hermione shook her head, “Don’t blame yourself.”

“Did Fred ask why you were breaking up with him?” Neville asked.

“He did, I said that I didn’t see the relationship going anywhere… which is also true. He was hurt, but he accepted it. We did fight a lot at the end when I was… erm… convinced that his twin was the reason behind Maggie’s absence,” Hermione mumbled.

“Again, I feel responsible,” I groaned softly.

“You’re not,” all three urged in unison.

“You have done absolutely nothing wrong,” Harry repeated, “I really don’t blame you for any of it.”

“I feel guilty regardless,” I muttered softly, eating my slice of pizza slowly.

“Yes, well, we’ll spend the rest of our lives making you stop that, if we have to,” Neville rolled his eyes.

“We’re a little, probably unhealthily codependent, family and we wouldn’t be one really if we left you behind in a trail of guilt and sadness,” Hermione insisted.

“I just hope Fred will forgive me when I tell him what happened,” I sighed. They all looked at me in complete shock.

“I mean, Fred saw this coming, kind of. He didn’t want the two of us to date in the first place,” I clarified, “And now we won’t ever be the dream team again.”

“I think Fred’s going to blame _his twin_ for that, not you,” Harry rolled his eyes.

“You know,” Neville set up.

“ _The person responsible_?” Hermione’s voice was just under a shriek in intensity.

I harrumphed in disbelief and continued nibbling on my pizza. It was hard to undo such an entrenched negative opinion of oneself.

It was starting to rain outside; the droplets of water pattered against the window of the pizza parlor, reminding me of sleeping on the roof huddled in three sweatshirts. I shivered appreciatively.

“You’re safe and dry,” Neville reminded quietly to me. I looked up at him and nodded.

“What’s it like? Being on the run, and homeless,” Harry asked quietly.

“Nerve-wracking,” I answered honestly, “There is no other word for it. You’re constantly thinking – where to go next, how do I not attract attention to myself, how do I get food, where do I go to _pee_ , where do I go to get clean – how disheveled do I look, can I sleep here, is that person to be trusted. There isn’t really a moment to rest; I think I only slept through the night due to that unique combination of pure exhaustion and heroin. And you can’t ask _anyone_ for help – anyone could decide to call the police and then you’re had. And stealing is… also terrifying, because if you don’t do it, you starve; but if you do do it, you could get caught, and thrown in jail… I just was running, all the time. Nonstop on the move, trying to get away, trying to not stay in one place for too long. I had to make sure I wasn’t found… or at least, I had to make sure that I wasn’t found by the wrong people, which greatly outnumbered the right people.”

“I can’t even imagine what that’s like,” Hermione breathed.

“And then – the weather – you’re a slave to it. I slept in the rain once and came down with a bone-shattering cough. I mean I was _always_ watching the clouds, hoping that they would go away, or at least not break during the night. And when you’re in an unfamiliar city… like I was… you’re always filled with that feeling like you’re lost, you know? I constantly felt lost, which is just _naturally_ terrifying on top of everything else. And then, since I wasn’t _just_ homeless – I was trying to keep away from Death Eaters and the Ministry alike – I couldn’t really stay in one place for long. I had to keep running, I had to keep moving, or else I didn’t feel safe – which means I couldn’t make any connections, couldn’t find anyone to talk to. Homeless people can be lonely, sure, but I’m sure it would have been better if I could have made a friend… but I never stayed in one place longer than twenty four hours. Those six days or so I was out there before Neville found me… they’re some of the longest in my life,” I whispered, “I literally have them etched into my brain, probably forever.”

“I’m so sorry you went through that,” Harry whispered.

“It’s my own fault,” I shrugged sadly, “I really should have talked to someone.”

“It’s not your fault that you couldn’t bring yourself to, yet,” Neville shook his head sadly, “I remember when I found you, Mags – you were like a wounded animal. You couldn’t have told anyone on your own, not really.”

“I’m still like that, mostly,” I whispered, “I’m very afraid.”

“Me too,” Harry agreed, “It’s like… constantly feeling like there’s someone behind you, watching you.”

“Always on your wit’s end, wondering if you need to run or if you’re safe to walk,” I furthered.

“Every little thing – feels like an attack. The slightest movement of a bird, the softest sound of a creaking house – it’s all an omen of danger,” Harry sighed.

“I’m so sorry you two,” Hermione mumbled.

“Really, we had no idea at the end of last year,” Neville agreed.

“I think it took a bit to settle – took a little while for my brain to wrap around what happened,” I explained.

“Yeah, for a the end of the term there – I was just in shock. I had to decompress before my brain could really go nutters,” Harry shook his head.

“At any rate, you’ll be safe at Hogwarts,” Hermione responded passionately, “It’s _Hogwarts_. It’s Dumbledore’s turf, and no Ministry members will be there, and Voldemort won’t _dare_ to attack when he’s trying to lay low like this.”

“Until he does for some strange, unforeseen reason that we don’t know right now because term hasn’t started yet,” Harry rolled his eyes.

“It’s definitely hard to recognize the difference between paranoia and legitimate worry when your life is like one of ours,” I nodded.

“That’s… a very good point,” Hermione admitted sheepishly.

“And what’s this weapon thing?” Harry scowled, “I think we have a right to know, since we’ll _doubtlessly_ get dragged into some sort of nonsense over it.”

“Maybe there’s an actual legitimate reason they don’t want us to know,” Neville offered, “Maybe it’s something we couldn’t handle.”

“What couldn’t _I_ handle?” Harry scoffed.

“I dunno, Harry, there are some things we just shouldn’t now until we’re ready,” Hermione sighed.

Realization hit me like a thousand lorries; I dropped my pizza with a clatter and stared at Harry in shock.

“What?” all three asked in unison.

_He’s not ready yet!_

I quickly picked up my pizza and said, “Nothing – just thought I heard something. It was the wind.” Before any of them could question, I ate my pizza hurriedly.

 _Oh my god – the prophecy – Voldemort must be after it – but doesn’t he know it? No, that can’t be it – he already knows the damn thing, that’s why Harry was attacked as a baby… but maybe there’s more to the prophecy than what Snape told me… more than I or Voldemort knows, so Voldemort wants to find out so he can fight Harry… and rise to power… and win…_ I could feel all the color drain from my face as now I hid behind my soda, trying to drink it all slowly so that color could return to my face before the others saw.

“Well, I guess we’re just going to have to hope someone explains it to us,” Neville stated after it was clear I was going to hide behind my soda.

“Yes,” Harry looked at me for a while, “And we’ll all tell each other the moment we know anything, yeah?”

“Of course,” Hermione agreed. I finished my soda.

“Definitely,” I nodded. And I didn’t _really_ know anything yet. I didn’t know that that was what they were guarding. I just had guesses floating around in my brain like jellyfish in the ocean.

Neville looked at his watch, “It’s getting late… we should go home now, I reckon.”

“It’s still raining, though,” Hermione frowned, “Maggie’s just gotten over her illness and withdrawal.. we shouldn’t exacerbate anything.”

“I think I’d rather be at home to be honest,” I sighed, “I’ll risk a little rain. Plus the tube doesn’t run all night, we can’t risk missing it.”

“That’s true,” Hermione acknowledged. We all got up and walked into the dim street, huddling together and moving towards the tube station.

A whooshing sound filled my ears and I turned around in terror; there was no one behind me.

“Keep moving,” Neville hissed softly. We did so, walking in the brightest part of the streets, shivering as a collective blob with the cold of the wind.

In fact, it was too cold. Far too cold. It felt like ice had washed over me in droves. I was almost… overwhelmed with cold.

Harry looked at me in shock and whipped out his wand, spinning around on his feet madly.

“What?” Hermione hissed.

“Dementors!” Harry finally shouted, pointing in the distance. Sure enough, two dementors were floating towards us, their arms outstretched –

And it was like having a flashback. I was suddenly in the library. I fell to the ground, screaming at the top of my lungs, unaware of my surroundings. I had been physically transported into the memory again, and I had no control over the situation from any front – it was happening to me all over again - until finally, I passed out.

I woke up on the couch of the living room. I shivered violently with cold before slowly opening my eyes, looking around in confusion. When I realized what had happened, I sat up with panic, blinking madly.

“It’s okay, we’re all safe,” Neville whispered. He looked shaken; Hermione and Harry were staring at me with worry.

“Fuck,” I muttered, “I passed out, didn’t I?”

“Dementors and PTSD don’t mix, especially when you aren’t trained to deal with them,” Hermione reassured, “Neville had the composure to grab you and we ran down to the tube quickly. We _just_ managed to get away.”

“I didn’t want to use magic,” Harry explained, “I’m worried the Ministry would use any excuse to get rid of me – even if there wasn’t really a case for it.”

“If you had conjured a patronus, it would have been in necessary self-defense… but I suppose the word of your three defamed best friends wouldn’t count for much,” Hermione sighed.

“I’m just embarrassed I passed out,” I mumbled.

“Maggie, you were shouting – well, it sounded like you were having a flashback,” Hermione whispered.

“If that’s… what you shouted… in the library,” Neville choked out. His face was still white with horror.

“I think it was. I dunno. Flashbacks are tricky, I don’t behave _exactly_ like I’m in the same situation again, just similarly,” I mumbled, “I’m sorry you all had to hear that.”

“I think the worst part was knowing that this wasn’t something that was happen _ing_ ,” Harry muttered, “There was nothing we could do… that horrible thing had happened to you, and none of us could try and save you.”

“Well, let’s just have me avoid dementors as much as possible. How did you lot even get me on the train, I was passed out,” I frowned.

“Neville managed to pick you up… it was quite surprising, actually. Usually he has a bad time with the dementors, too,” Hermione pointed out.

“Given how terrified I’ve been over _you_ lately, I figured it would be worse. And it was, but I was… very much focused on getting you out of there,” Neville mumbled softly.

“Same,” Harry agreed, “All new terrible memories aside, when you collapsed I knew I had to get us out of there. I helped urge Nev along.”

“When we finally got on the train, it was the most relieved moment of my life,” Hermione sighed, “All I remembered now was when Harry disappeared at the tournament.”

“I think we can all agree that we’ve become more screwed up since the last time we’ve faced those blood things,” I muttered sadly, “Which brings the next important question… _why the fuck were there dementors in the middle of London_.”

“The last time dementors were off of Azkaban, it’s cause they were looking for Black. Oh, and Fudge brought one along for protection because the man’s a nutjob,” Harry observed, “But Dumbledore said that they would probably join Voldemort in a heartbeat if the bastard offered.”

“So do you think the dementors have joined Voldemort?” Hermione whispered, her voice laced with pure terror.

“If they did, the Ministry is keeping it _really_ quiet,” Neville shook his head, “That would be all over the place. Gran would have written me. Hell, I don’t think Fudge could keep denying the return of Voldemort if that happened.”

“Did just… those two join him?” I grimaced at the terribleness of that idea.

“Probably not,” Harry scowled.

“What if…” Hermione looked tentative, “Oh Harry… they’re looking _so hard_ for an excuse to discredit you entirely…”

“Yes…” Harry looked at her sternly.

“What if the Ministry sent them? To get you to use magic? So they could expel you?” Hermione whispered.

“How would they have known where I was, Hermione?” Harry frowned.

“This is the first time you’ve been out and about in London,” Neville pointed out, “I mean, before now you’ve been stuck in Headquarters… and before that you were in Chicago… maybe a Ministry worker or a wizard or someone spotted you, alerted the Ministry…”

“This flat _is_ close to the Ministry, Nev, your Gran said so,” I gasped.

“Yeah, Mum and Dad wanted to be close to work – it’s definitely plausible that someone saw you,” Neville hissed.

“And I bet they waited to send the dementors until late at night – so fewer people would be out and about – so there wouldn’t be witnesses! We would have been, but we barely have a better reputation than Harry these days!” Hermione gasped.

“That’s just bloody fantastic,” Harry groaned, “It’s fucking _illegal_ , for one, but besides that, the Ministry is out for my blood. They’ll resort to risking me having my _bloody soul sucked out of my body_ for the sake of their delusions!”

“It’s terrifying,” I agreed quietly.

“How do we make sure it doesn’t happen again? We have to avoid you doing anything that could even _slightly_ be construed as an expel-able offense before we go back to school,” Hermione urged, “We can’t have you expelled, Harry. You need to get educated – we need to learn how to fight – we all need to be trained up to face what’s coming ahead.”

“We can’t go out,” Harry stated simply, “We do the bare minimum – get groceries – and occupy ourselves here.”

“Bloody hell,” Neville groaned.

“We don’t have anything to entertain ourselves with,” I muttered softly.

“Better bored than in danger – you guys have been completely safe until now. Hell, Maggie, you were safe on the _streets_. This is the first magical danger you’ve faced and it conveniently coincides with my reappearance in your lives,” Harry muttered irritably.

“Don’t blame yourself, Harry. We love you,” I stated calmly, “We wouldn’t trade being in your life for all the safety in your world, regardless what deep-in-depression-due-to-PTSD-me said that one time.”

“Yeah, it’s still my fault you’re in danger. The Ministry wouldn’t give a crap about you lot if it weren’t for me. You’d just be three friends who happen to despise the society we live in,” Harry grunted, “I mean, all the stuff that’s happened – the only year that would have actually affected you lot was second year! And if I hadn’t grabbed the diary – and if Ginny hadn’t seen me with it – that might have been the end of all the shite with Riddle! Cause Ginny had thrown it away! If it weren’t for me, you lot would have completely normal lives!” Harry shouted angrily.

“Harry, if it weren’t for you, Voldemort would have been at large our whole childhoods,” I whispered.

“I probably would be dead – I’m muggleborn, remember?” Hermione shook her head sadly.

“And besides that – again, we don’t hang out with you because we _have_ to. Siblings or not, I do have a choice in life,” I continued, “And Neville and Hermione _especially_ have choices.”

“We’re here because we choose to be,” Hermione urged.

“We’re with you ‘till the end, mate,” Neville reassured, “No matter how bad it gets.”

Harry looked at us all sadly, “But guys, did you even realize something?”

“What?” we asked in unison.

“The Ministry doesn’t know I can produce a patronus… it’s not something I’ve advertised, or shown really,” Harry shook his head, “If they sent those dementors… they knew that we probably couldn’t get away. They were aiming for us to not get out of that intact.”

“Oh my god,” Hermione whispered. Neville’s face had completely drained of color.

“They want to kill us,” I responded quietly. Harry nodded.

“And I wouldn’t be surprised, really, if it was _all_ of us they wanted to kill. They did conveniently wait until we were all in the same place… I’ve walked on my own a few times in the city. Not a lot, not recklessly or anything, but… it could be a coincidence, but it’s a really fucking big one if it is,” Harry groaned.

“Well then, mate, we’re _really_ in it with you,” Neville shook his head furiously, though his face was still white, “You really can’t get rid of us now.”

“We’re bounded in a similar sense of the Ministry fucking hates us and will probably kill us if they can,” I snarled. I felt close to my old self, and the others could tell, looking at me with a mixture of apprehension and joy.

“We just have to get to September first,” Hermione insisted, “Just until then. We just have to get to Hogwarts and then we’ll be safe for a whole year.”

“And then summer comes again!” I shouted, getting up and kicking the couch violently.

“Be careful, Mags, that’s old…” Neville protested quietly.

“Maybe by then we’ll have convinced them that Voldemort is back,” Harry suggested hopefully, though he didn’t look like he believed his own words.

“You can’t really say you’re surprised, Maggie,” Hermione sighed, “I mean, this is what we all signed on for, when we decided to… well, fight against the systems of oppression in the Wizarding World. We all knew we’d make an enemy of the Ministry.”

“Of course I knew that, I just – I didn’t expect it to happen _now_ , when we can’t even use bloody magic to defend ourselves!” I shrieked, “We’re helpless!”

“I repeat, we’ll be fine as long as we get to Hogwarts,” Hermione stated definitively, “And tomorrow we’ll write to the Order, explain the situation.”

“I think the moment you feel you can deal with it, Maggie, we should go to Headquarters,” Neville sighed, “I know – I didn’t want you to have to either, since the bastard is there – but it is safer there, at least marginally.

“I don’t think I’ll ever be ready for that,” I muttered softly.

“Then we’re going to have to find some way to convince the Order that this is the best place for us without telling them what happened to you,” Harry sighed, “I’m not arguing with the sentiment – of _course_ you shouldn’t have to share such a small space with the horrible prat – but I don’t know how to convince them all.”

“McGonagall knows what happened,” I mumbled.

“Yes,” Neville agreed eagerly, “Look, she knows it all – she’ll definitely vouch that Maggie can’t live at Headquarters yet. I think we should offer to come back the day before term, and then that’s it – that way Hermione, Harry and I can get the rest of our things, and you Maggie can talk to your parents… and the other people who care about you there.”

“Okay,” I agreed, “I can do one day.”

“In the meantime… we’ll go out in shifts, so everyone can get some fresh air, but not any more than we have to, to get groceries,” Neville sighed.

“And always in the daylight – no more leaving after dark,” Hermione agreed.

“And wear hoodies… try to hide your face,” I urged, “Draw as little attention as possible.”

“And no unnecessary stops, just go to the grocery, buy food, and get out,” Harry finished.

We all looked at each other for a long time.

“So this is what the war felt like,” I whispered quietly. The others looked at me with equal expressions of agreement and fear, before we all drew together for another long hug. It wasn’t exactly safer, but at the very least, it made us feel like it was so, which was a gift all itself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh, they're on to the Umbitch. Soon they'll be at Hogwarts... where all of Hermione's urges about safety will fall through. It's not the next chapter, but maybe the one after that, where they go back. It'll be... fun? Yeah Maggie and the Umbitch REALLY do NOT mix. 
> 
> (Yes, I'm aware bitch is a very sexist term, but my god if it describes anyone in the universe, it describes that toad.)
> 
> Please comment, guys! I'm loving all of them and they really inspire me when writing!! All of them!! Thanks!
> 
> (Also, confession - I have a few musical groups that really inspire me while writing. Rise Against, Imogen Heap, Florence and the Machine, Sick Puppies, and Silversun Pickups to be exact. And then amongst those there are songs that REALLY inspire MOST of the story... This song is one of them - I often picture Maggie, Neville, Harry and Hermione singing this song. I know, I'm a really huge dork.)


	53. Chapter Fifty - Two: August 19 - August 31, 1995, London

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Nothing is more important 
> 
> Than what people think about you 
> 
> The worry, the wonder... it's all worth it 
> 
> Return all of this to sender 
> 
> The mirror spoke to me and showed 
> 
> All of this pretending is catching up to me 
> 
> Lights out 
> 
> Wake up 
> 
> Stay calm 
> 
> Decide 
> 
> Reach up 
> 
> Stand 
> 
> Or be an eyesore." 
> 
> ~ Janus, "Eyesore".

Chapter 52: August 19 – August 31st, 1995, London

The letters from the Order weren’t happy about a single facet of the situation. The general consensus seemed to be agreement that the Ministry was probably behind it – that they had been aiming to seriously injure us, or at the least get us all expelled – and, given my condition, it was safest for the four of us to stay at the flat. Still, I knew Mum wanted me home – and I could tell through context clues that Dumbledore was furious about every aspect at play.

“Still, the man doesn’t want to tell me anything,” Harry muttered, “Can’t blame me for trying to deal with things on my own in light of that.”

McGonagall sent me a letter reassuring me that she would keep everyone alright with our absence until August 31st. Mr. Weasley also wrote us, reassuring us that there was no word of dementors at the Ministry – and no word of us – meaning that we had managed to get away without getting into trouble. Still, Mr. Weasley was also convinced that the Ministry set up the attack.

“At least we get out of cleaning,” Hermione commented that afternoon as we all sat around watching the very small telly, enjoying reruns of _Doctor Who_.

“Yes, and I am deeply appreciative of this,” Harry agreed, “That place was ridiculously dusty and filthy.”

“I would like to _see_ Headquarters. Frankly, if the Weasleys weren’t all staying there, I’d say we go back,” I sighed.

“Yes, but sadly, there are more Weasleys than just the great bastard, and by caring about them all I’ve put them in danger,” Harry muttered irritably.

“It’s _not your fault_ ,” Neville insisted.

“I can accept that I can’t keep my family out of danger – or you two – but come on. Everyone else in that house did _not_ have to get dragged into my shit,” Harry grunted irritably.

“Again, everyone’s friends with you willingly, Harry,” Hermione soothed, “We all care about you… you’re a wonderful friend and you’re wonderful company, present circumstances excluded.”

“Do you really think all the Weasleys just latched onto you because you were famous or something?” I shook my head sadly, “You’re a great person to be around.”

“You’re literally the _polar opposite_ of Voldemort,” Neville pointed out, “Voldemort grew up with a crap life and clutched to the systems of oppression and privilege that made it crappy in order to rise above. You grew up with a good family, and literally everything going for you – mostly _due to that system of oppression_ – meaning you have everything to lose by wanting to get rid of it… and you actively fight against it.”

“In other words, you’re kind and compassionate, empathetic to a fault, and you put others – literally, _everyone_ , above yourself,” I furthered.

“Stop, guys, you’ll give me a big head,” Harry muttered.

“I think that rests the case,” Hermione snorted.

“I don’t want you all to be hurt because of me! I won’t be able to live with myself!” Harry shouted at the top of his lungs.

“Yes, but if we don’t help you, _we_ won’t be able to live with _ourselves_ ,” I muttered, “It didn’t take me long to realize that on the run. Remember? I tried to do the whole ‘look after my own skin’ routine. It’s not in my nature, and I’m willing to bet it’s not in theirs.”

“Nope,” Hermione agreed.

“Couldn’t even attempt it, but then again, I don’t have PTSD,” Neville clarified. I threw him a grateful expression.

“I just wouldn’t be able to live with myself if anything happened to you guys,” Harry repeated quietly.

“We know, and that’s why we’re going to do our darndest to survive,” I reassured.

“But we love you, mate. If we abandon you, we won’t be able to live with ourselves,” Neville insisted.

“Alright!” Harry sighed, “Alright. I’ll stop trying to talk sense into you lot.”

“Really, you’re just saving necessary and valuable oxygen,” I grinned.

“It’s better for your anxiety,” Hermione smiled.

“It’s important to look after your health, you know, since you _are_ an important part of the war – can’t have you dealing with heart problems on top of everything else…” Neville teased.

“You all suck,” Harry threw a pillow at us in amusement as we all giggled uncontrollably.

It was surprisingly easy to sneak out and get food. In fact, the daylight hours we were blessed with the crowding of the streets; there was no way anyone would be able to tell it was us, given that we always went out in sweatshirts. While it was normal for Harry to be wearing a hoodie, Neville was amusing to observe – he almost exclusively wore jumpers and flannel. Hermione was the oddest of all – she never wore clothing like that, and she looked awkward and tiny in my large sweatshirts.

“I’m a curvy person!” I responded defensively the first time she got ready to go outside, “You’re a twig!”

“Hey!” she protested, “I am _petite!_ ”

“Yes! And so you swim in the sweatshirt of a normal sized person!” I teased.

“Hey!” she looked genuinely upset.

“I’m sorry,” I admitted, “That wasn’t nice. Really, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Hermione nodded, “I don’t _like_ that I look like I’m thirteen and prepubescent.”

“You look fine,” Neville reassured.

“Really,” Harry agreed.

“Thanks,” Hermione nodded, leaving and going to get food. She came back fine, but I still worried the entire time she was gone that I had been rude to her in her last moments.

Our days were somewhat monotonous in this routine; after all, we didn’t want to leave more than we had to. We watched the telly often, but it wasn’t like there was really much on that we wanted to see. Hermione would often be seen reading her books in the corner, taking furious notes already.

“What _are_ you doing?” Harry grunted, his entire body on edge from the constant scratching of Hermione’s quill.

“Already studying! We have nothing to do these next two weeks, we should really be getting a jumpstart on schoolwork!” Hermione practically screeched with worry, “When else are we going to do it?”

“She has a point,” I muttered irritably, my nose in my transfiguration book (advanced level, I had finished learning everything in the intermediate one years ago.)

“Maggie, get out of that book,” Hermione snapped, pulling it from my hands, “You don’t need to learn that until you’re at the N.E.W.T. level. Get your bloody charms book and study it for once! You need to at least _pass your charms O.W.L._ , and you are dangerously close to not doing so!”

“Charms is _boring_!” I groaned.

“Yes, but we all have to do things we don’t like sometimes!” Hermione retorted, “ _Read_! And you, Neville, read transfiguration!” Hermione shoved an intermediate book into his face.

“ _Mione_ …” Neville groaned.

“And Harry! You should also be studying transfiguration! You know, Neville is hopeless with it, but if you actually applied yourself, you could be great at it!” Hermione was practically flapping her arms in agitation.

“That was rude,” Neville snorted in a corner.

“Hermione, calm the ever-loving fuck down,” Harry looked at her earnestly.

“I will _not_ calm down! There are so many things to do – and you’re just writing a letter to Ginny!” Hermione screeched.

Neville and I looked at each other in worry.

“Hermione, come on. Outside. Roof,” I grabbed her arm and dragged her out of the flat and up the stairs to the roof, her yelling in protest. We stood outside, greatly exposed to the open air and sunlight.

“Now I know you won’t want to risk us being spotted by staying out here too long, so, talk,” I snapped angrily.

“Talk about _what_?” Hermione hissed.

“Say it. We both know what you’re actually freaking out over,” I muttered angrily.

“I’m _freaking out_ over our studies! Do you realize how many things we’re going to have to juggle this year? I’m already overwhelmed!” Hermione groaned.

“Okay, while I acknowledge that you are probably freaking out in part over our studies, we both know that’s not all,” I rolled my eyes.

“Of course that’s it!” Hermione looked at me defiantly.

“Mione, I’m doing a lot better. You can burden me with your problems again, I know you need to,” I sighed, “Look, it’s setting you completely on edge – I won’t let you use me as an excuse to not deal with your own shit.”

Hermione shuffled irritably in place for a while, looking out over the city, before turning back to me.

“I don’t have another problem,” she muttered.

“Okay, now you’re just pissing me off,” I hissed.

“Good,” she replied cheekily.

I groaned loudly, running my hands through my hair, “For the love of Merlin, Hermione!”

“Fine!” Hermione snapped, “Fine.”

I looked at her expectantly.

“I might not be exactly in the right place to date anyone right now, I’m still getting over Fred. But I can’t pretend that it doesn’t upset me that Harry and Ginny have been spending a lot of… quality time together,” Hermione muttered angrily.

“There. That’s _all you had to say_ ,” I grunted angrily.

“Maggie, it’s very hard for me to talk about that out loud, alright? I spent… a good portion of last year, once Fred had asked me to the Ball, trying to convince myself that I was over Harry,” Hermione muttered softly, “I don’t really like being back in this situation – wondering, waiting if we’ll ever be together.”

“You will,” I responded definitively.

Hermione snorted loudly in disbelief.

“No, you will,” I insisted again, “There really is something to be said for how close the four of us all. The bonds forged in the heat of battle and then cooled in the comfort of safety are stronger than any other. We’ve literally been through _everything_ together – no one else could ever relate to Harry better than any of the three of us, and lord knows, I’m his sister, and Neville isn’t going to jump on that crazy bus.”

Hermione looked at me shrewdly for a long time. I felt my face flush madly with embarrassment at the clear logical deduction Hermione had made as she continued to look at me intensely.

“What?” I finally asked irritably, though my words came out in a mumble.

“If I had to say it, you have to say it, too,” Hermione snorted.

“Oh come on, Hermione, you know I’m not good at this shite,” I muttered, kicking at a rock that must have gotten thrown onto the concrete roof.

“Yeah, well, I’m making you, cause he’s my friend too,” Hermione glared at me angrily. I sighed heavily.

“I’m in love with Neville. Happy?” I threw my arms up in the air angrily. Hermione’s face had dropped open in shock.

“In _love_?” she gasped.

“Of course – what else would I be? You didn’t honestly think I just _fancied_ him, did you?” I looked at her in disbelief, my eyebrows furrowed angrily.

“Well… I mean… honestly it was enough of a surprise to see you again and see that you were acting… _overly_ friendly with Neville, I mean – it was enough of a shock as it was –“ Hermione frowned greatly.

“Yeah, I’m in love with him, it’s really not surprising from almost every facet of our lives,” I snorted angrily, “Aren’t you the smart one?”

“You don’t understand! I – I’ve spent my entire – oh gosh, if I do this I’m betraying…” Hermione groaned loudly and buried her face in her hands.

“I know Neville’s in love with me too,” I responded calmly.

Hermione looked at me in greater shock.

“He _told you –_ “

“What? No,” I laughed, “He hasn’t changed his personality _that_ much. I just figured it out.”

“Oh my god,” Hermione sighed, “Oh my _god_.”

“He was completely obvious! You should be more shocked I didn’t figure it out, I don’t know, second year!” I looked at her in bemusement.

“We didn’t know how you didn’t figure it out either – we just figured you were clueless about that stuff!” Hermione retorted.

“Well I was!” I laughed.

“Then – how did you figure it out?” she asked in amazement.

“We danced together at the Yule Ball and he said some things that… made me realize,” I shrugged sheepishly.

“You’ve known since _the Yule Ball_?” Hermione screeched loudly, “I figured you figured it out because he came to find you or something!”

“Nope. I’ve known for a while,” I pursed my lips together.

“Why didn’t you _say anything_? At least to _me_?” Hermione gasped.

“Well… erm…” I flushed madly, “I… erm…”

“What?” Hermione demanded angrily.

“Erm… I realized that I loved him… at the Yule Ball, too,” I whispered.

“ _WHAT?!_ ” Hermione screamed at the top of her lungs.

“Merlin! Shut the fuck up, Hermione!” I hissed.

“You’ve been in love with him for _that long and you haven’t TOLD ANYBODY?!_ ” Hermione screeched.

“Of course not!” I hissed angrily, “I was with the great bastard, and then I was broken! Come on, there hasn’t been a _moment to tell anybody!_ ”

“Well… that’s true…” Hermione frowned greatly.

“And to be frank, I phrased it that I _realized_ I loved him at the Yule Ball. I think I’ve _actually_ been in love with him for a significantly longer period of time!” I continued.

“How… long?” Hermione asked hesitantly.

“I dunno! Probably since first year honestly!” I sighed, “It was the kind of thing that you don’t really realize unless the reality of it is shoved directly into your face!”

Hermione’s mouth dropped open in shock.

“Since _first year?_ ” she gasped.

“Yeah!” I blushed furiously, “Of course!”

“No, Maggie, you don’t understand – Neville’s been… this hasn’t been _easy_ for him. We’ve spent a good portion of our lives together trying to figure out if you cared about him the same way because, on the one hand, _you acted like it_ , but on the other hand, _you didn’t do anything or say anything about it_ , and you would say really insensitive things sometimes that made us think like you didn’t like him at all –“

“Oh I know,” I grimaced, “I feel terrible about it. But I honestly didn’t know. It wasn’t like… the kind of thing you realize. It just sort of… was, and I was an idiot and didn’t realize it until I was forced to.”

“How were you forced to?” Hermione asked in confusion.

“Well I mean – I was constantly getting jealous of Neville being with Ginny… and I just… when I had been with the bastard for a while… it was getting harder and harder to ignore that I had stronger feelings for Neville than I did for him… and of course being with him made me realize what it actually was to have feelings for someone… and… I was expecting… argh I don’t like having this conversation!” I muttered angrily.

“Well I’m forcing you to. It’ll be good for you,” Hermione smirked.

“I doubt that,” I grumbled, sitting on the concrete. Hermione followed, looking at me earnestly.

“With… the bastard… I just… was attracted to him,” I muttered softly, “Neville is… different.”

“Okay…” Hermione paused.

“It’s like… it’s like he’s a part of me,” I whispered very softly, barely audible over the sounds of the city. I nervously played with the frayed ends of my shorts, “It’s not… just an emotion. It’s significantly deeper than that. It’s a portion of my identity, like – being a dragon, or being pansexual, or being good at transfiguration, or being Harry Potter’s sister, or fighting Voldemort, or being your best mate… he’s… my soulmate,” I mumbled very very softly, my voice so tiny it felt like a different person’s.

Hermione looked at me with an expression torn between amazement and determination.

“It fills me from my toes to my head and is just so… it’s not something I consciously think about that much. So it took – basically a club getting whacked over my head – for me to figure it out,” I mumbled, “If he dies, I die; his pain is my pain; his struggle is my struggle; his joy is my joy. I can’t describe it any more simply than that.”

“You know he feels the exact same way about you, right?” Hermione asked immediately, “As in, I’ve heard a _very_ similar speech from him.”

“Oh,” I felt my face color horrifically. My heart was pounding loudly in my chest, though I didn’t know why – this wasn’t exactly unexpected.

“He just… got the club whacking first year,” Hermione shrugged, “And then got to watch you apparently _not_ feel the same for four years.”

I groaned loudly and held my head in my hands.

“Why… didn’t you break up with the wanker when you figured it out?” Hermione asked softly.

“Because I was scared,” I answered immediately, “Not of him – I didn’t have that much premonition – but just of the depth of my feelings. And also, I was in a relationship with the jerk. I didn’t… I didn’t really know if I wanted that to end yet. That was a mistake, though. Everything’s m-my fault,” I sniffled sadly, looking away from her.

‘It’s not your fault – relationships take work and it’s not a crime to not want to throw one away once you’ve put effort in,” Hermione reassured.

“Well it _is_ my fault that I lied to the jerk about my feelings and caused him to get mistrustworthy and paranoid and –“ Hermione cut me off immediately.

“That is _not your fault_ ,” she hissed angrily, “Not at all. No. Not your fault. Lying isn’t a good thing, no, but you had no intention of breaking up with him – so he should have trusted your word. And forcing you to do things – and yelling at you all the time – nothing you could ever have done would deserve that. It is not your fault, not even a little bit, okay?” Hermione reached over to me and hugged me.

“Okay,” I mumbled.

“Not your fault,” she repeated, “I don’t want to hear you say a word otherwise!”

“It’s hard,” I whispered.

“I know, but it really isn’t your fault – no one would _ever_ think it was your fault – it is simply the fault of the perpetrator. That’s it. Nothing you could ever do would be enough to justify it! _No one is entitled to sex_ ,” Hermione hissed angrily, “ _No one. Never. Ever. Not under any circumstances._ ”

“Okay,” I mumbled.

“Alright then,” Hermione paused, “So is that why you haven’t told Neville? Because you’re scared after what happened?”

“Not… really,” I admitted, “I know Neville would never do something like that… I’m always going to be residually scared, I think, but that wouldn’t cause me to not tell him, no.”

“Is it some ridiculous nonsense about how you’re in the middle of war and you don’t want to distract yourselves? Because look, you two are perfectly capable of being together and fighting, and frankly, I don’t want to see one of you die without the other knowing because if _I_ am alive I will spend _the rest of my life_ hearing about how much the living one of you two regrets it,” Hermione groaned.

“No… it’s not that,” but I managed to smirk at Hermione’s words.

“Then what?” Hermione asked, frowning, “You two _already_ act like a couple, I don’t see –“

“I’m still in a very vulnerable place, emotionally,” I muttered, “And I don’t think I should be in a relationship when I’m like this. I wouldn’t be able to set boundaries… I would expect too much of him… if something went wrong, it would kill me… that sort of thing.”

“Well… I don’t really know… hmm,” Hermione frowned more, “I mean, I agree that you’re vulnerable, but if there was ever anyone who would understand that, it’s him.”

“Be that as it may, I also don’t want him to think I just… have feelings for him because he’s been taking care of me,” I shrugged, “I think he… knows, kind of, given everything that’s happened. But this could just as easily be ‘you nursed me back to health and so I am extremely emotionally dependent on you’ as it is ‘soulmate,’ especially since he didn’t know I had realized my feelings for him when I did.”

“Oh,” Hermione nodded, “Yes, that also makes sense.”

“So I want to wait until I’ve been better for a while – and he’ll believe me when I tell him,” I sighed, “And there’s another thing.”

“What?” Hermione asked.

“He’s… loved me for so long,” I paused, “I… want him to initiate it.”

“Why?” Hermione’s brow furrowed angrily.

“Because I think he should get the honors of getting the ‘yes’. I _know_ he’ll say yes. He doesn’t… _know_ I will, and I want him to have that joy when I do,” I muttered.

“That’s complete bull,” Hermione snorted, “He’ll be overjoyed when you _ask_ , or _say something_.”

“I still want him to do it,” I mumbled.

“Well, when all the other good reasons not to do it are gone I’ll persuade you off that one,” Hermione rolled her eyes, “Honestly.”

“Also, I want to know what happened to his parents,” I stated quietly, “Look, if we do this – it’s the real deal. It’s not going to end for some stupid reason. I’m in it completely from the minute it starts. And… I think I need to know that. He knows literally _all_ of my deep, dark secrets – everything about my past. I think I deserve the same courtesy from him if this is a thing that happens.”

“Oh,” Hermione sighed, “Yeah, I agree with you on that one.”

“Do you know?” I asked her sharply.

“No,” Hermione shook her head, “He told me he couldn’t tell anyone about that. But I think he could be able to tell you, because… well, because of how he feels about you.”

“Then I hope he does,” I whispered quietly.

“Me too,” Hermione rolled her eyes, “You two are _already_ nauseatingly cute and you aren’t even snogging yet.”

I swatted at her with my arm in irritation.

“Should we go back down? They’re going to get irritated with us at any moment,” Hermione suggested.

“Irritated? They’re probably worried beyond their wit’s end. Let’s go.” We heaved ourselves off of the roof and walked down to the flat. The two of them were, as expected, sitting nervously at the table, and looked visibly relieved as we walked in.

But, Hermione’s concerns over our studies were valid, and we immediately got to work studying the material before term began. I focused mostly on charms, so that maybe I wouldn’t be constantly struggling to keep up the whole year; Neville actually focused on arithmancy, deciding that transfiguration would be a lost cause without McGonagall helping him extensively; Harry _did_ focus on transfiguration, since he knew that if he focused more he’d be fine; and Hermione just studied everything equally because the girl was annoyingly smart.

“I hate charms,” I muttered as I stared intensively at the paragraphs describing silencing charms.

“We know,” Harry responded dully, “I hate transfiguration.”

“Don’t let McGonagall hear you,” Hermione snorted.

“I don’t actually want a lot in this world,” Neville grunted angrily, “But I do want to understand p values better. I want to understand them a lot.”

“What I don’t get,” I commented lightly, “Is that statistics, by itself, is a mathematical way, _without magic_ , of predicting things.”

“Yes…” Hermione paused, looking at me.

“What exactly is magic adding to that?” I looked at her in confusion.

“Better… predictions?” Hermione frowned.

“I dunno, but I looked ahead and Bayes seems like a nightmare,” Neville groaned, burying his face in his book.

“Well the good news is this is the last year you have to do it if you don’t want to continue,” Hermione reassured.

“Are you kidding?” Neville looked at her in confusion, “Hermione, I’ve already used Arithmancy _extensively_ while working with Sprout… we use it to predict exactly which plants are going to have the phenotype we want. This is one of the subjects I definitely _know_ I’m continuing with.”

“But you seem to struggle so much with it…” Hermione frowned.

“Yes, it’s hard, but it’s definitely useful, which is _why_ I struggle with it. Transfig is a lost cause, I’ve given up that battle, I’ll settle for a passing grade if I can manage it,” Neville shook his head sadly, “This I know I can do well in if I keep at it.”

“Good for you!” Hermione praised loudly, beaming greatly.

“I’ll continue with it too for similar reasons,” I shrugged, “But I’m probably going to drop Ancient Runes. I just can’t keep up with all these languages anymore.”

“Well that’s fair,” Hermione acknowledged.

“Can we finally drop potions?” Harry asked, “I really want to drop potions.”

Hermione sighed heavily.

“It’ll be a glorious day, but yes, we can drop,” I grinned at him.

“I don’t like hearing you lot talk about important, necessary subjects like this,” Hermione grumbled.

“Hermione, we assume you’ll be taking potions for all of us,” Neville grinned.

“Well by that logic, Harry can just take Defense for all of us – oh wait, if we’re in the middle of a duel, Harry can’t do it all by himself!” Hermione hissed.

“It’s not like there’s a potion equivalent to dueling,” I smirked.

“Yes there is! Poisons!”

“We learned antidotes last year. It was like reverse synthesis in organic chem. I was good at it,” I smirked, “Between the two of us we should be covered.”

“You all are infuriating!” Hermione got up and went to the bedroom, slamming the door behind her. The three of us looked at each other in bemusement.

“She’ll calm down eventually,” Harry finally declared. Neville and I shrugged and went back to our books.

One day, as Harry went out to get the groceries, I was taking a nap against Neville, actually quite asleep. I still wasn’t getting any nightmares, which was brilliant, but I knew it was contingent on a) sleeping next to Neville and b) having Harry and Hermione nearby. It was the feeling of complete safety that did it, not any miraculous recovery. Neville was playing with my bangs, the repetitive motion of which also eventually lulled me to sleep. Still, lying on the couch wasn’t very comfortable, especially when I was hunched up like this, and soon I stirred awake.

“I’m telling you, Neville, you just have to tell her,” Hermione was hissing.

 _Oh come on, Hermione_ , I thought in annoyance.

“I will when she’s ready,” Neville stated calmly.

“Ready for what?” I asked irritably, stirring and sitting up.

“Nothing,” both responded immediately.

“You both are idiots,” I grunted angrily, walking into the bedroom and closing the door behind me. I looked around in annoyance, walking back over to Neville’s old crib. I picked up the teddy bear and studied it for a long minute, before putting it back.

 _What were his parents like?_ I couldn’t help my curiosity. I went to the closet that Neville had never opened and looked inside – it was just filled with normal wizard’s robes. I sighed and dug around on the floor, kicking up dust as I did so – just shoes. I grumbled in annoyance and closed the door again. They seemed like a typical Wizarding couple – so what had happened to them?

 _You’re invading Neville’s privacy_ , I thought, but I couldn’t help myself. I wanted to _know_. I went to the nightstand and opened it – there were only a few scraps of parchment inside. I picked one up that had writing on it and read a few of the words –

_Had to go into hiding today, Alice. We hope you both managed to do so easily. Harry’s doing alright, very fidgety – doesn’t like staying inside for too long. Maybe we should visit Melinda and Nathaniel together and bring the kids – let them actually be outside for once. It’s probably too dangerous. Stay safe, I he_

And the note cut off there. I looked in shock; it made sense that this was from Harry’s mum. Did they know each other? Were they friends? It wasn’t surprising, but it seemed like the kind of thing Mum would have mentioned. The other scraps of parchment in the drawer just had isolated words, so I stuck the other one in and sat down on the bed. There wasn’t really anything else around that could hold secrets; Neville clearly didn’t want me to know anything about his parents.

 _Respect his privacy, Maggie, you’re being immature_.

I groaned in annoyance and stared at the ceiling. Just because I was being immature, didn’t mean my frustration wasn’t valid. I had told him everything – literally, everything – about myself, and this is what I had gotten in return. More secrecy and hidden information. Still, I couldn’t argue that Neville had a right to his privacy. I stood up and left the bedroom, to Neville and Hermione reading books again, neither saying a word about my outburst as I sat down and grabbed my potions book.

Still, most of the days we were pleasant with each other. Hermione, Neville and I were completely patient with Harry’s crankiness; Hermione, Neville and Harry were completely patient with my sullen-ness. Hermione’s tense nature due to schoolwork was also soon understood; only Neville was completely calm, which was amazing.

“Well you guys need me to be, so of course I am,” he shrugged. And indeed, he was sort of like a rock in that sense – he obviously helped me loads, but he also was the best at calming down both Harry and Hermione.

On August thirtieth, I walked up to the roof and stared out at the city, not really wanting to talk to anyone. I sighed heavily, resting my head on my knees. I didn’t feel eager to go back the next day – being with my friends was wonderful and lovely, but this was all I needed. Nothing else, _no one_ else. It felt terrible to think, but I was just so overwhelmed by everything on the road ahead that I couldn’t really focus on anything else, like getting mentally prepared for the next day.

 _You could run away again_.

The thought was like poison in my brain; I wanted it out. I did _not_ want to run away again – it was a powerful instinct, but I knew it wouldn’t end well for me or for anyone I cared about. Running away again just meant that Neville would have to catch me – or Harry or Hermione. Running away again meant nightmares… loneliness… probably relapsing into addiction. Running away was the worst possible idea.

_Unless they come with you._

I shook my head madly again. As easy as it would be to be on the run with the three of them, it still wasn’t a solution. We still needed to go to school. We still were safest at Hogwarts. And none of them had such a terrifyingly powerful need to run as I did. None of them would go along with it.

I shifted, stretching my wings out and yawning. It felt comfortable to be a dragon, more so than it was to be a human. I began pacing on the roof, growling softly to myself. I knew I needed to shift back –someone could spot me like this – but the flat building was tall, very tall; and no buildings nearby were taller. It was unlikely that I would be seen. I looked out over the city again, enjoying the movement of all the cars on the streets below, the walking of the people, and the flickering lights of the buildings. It was a different forest than my youth, but it was a forest nonetheless, and it was one that I had grown to call home.

“You shouldn’t stay like that for long,” a voice murmured behind me. I shifted and turned around to see Hermione walking up to sit next to me.

“Nervous?” she asked softly. I nodded, resting my head on my knees again.

“Look, we’ve made it our mission to keep… the jerk… away from you as much as possible,” Hermione reassured, “We promise, we’re going to take it in shifts.”

“You shouldn’t have to socialize with him, either, I mean you’re probably going to end up killing him,” I grunted in annoyance.

“Well… there’s that, but our main mission is to sort of unofficially huddle around you. Make sure that there’s a barrier at all times. I don’t _think_ he should want to talk to you, but we’re going to be careful to make sure not to try,” Hermione reassured.

“Thanks,” I sighed heavily, “I’m still terrified.”

“As you should be,” she agreed. She rested her head on my shoulder – she was still shorter than me. I grinned and rested mine on top of hers.

“Maggie, is it bad that I’m scared?” she muttered softly.

“Since I’m bloody terrified of everything lately, no,” I shook my head.

“I just… I just wish we could have been normal teenagers. Go to school, learn about magic, have fun. Instead we’re…” Hermione seemed to be at a loss for words.

“Us?” I offered, “I mean, yeah that sucks, but honestly, I… I’m glad we’re so close. We wouldn’t be if it weren’t for the hell we’ve been through.”

“True,” Hermione acknowledged, “I just want us to get out the other side _alive_. All four of us.”

“Ha,” I laughed sarcastically, “That’s a lark.”

“Oh come on.”

“No seriously,” I shook my head, “I don’t think we’re all going to survive. That’s too lucky. Between our import in this war, and our prominence, and our youth, we’ll be luck if _one_ of us survives.”

Hermione was crying, I frowned at her.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to make you upset…”

“No, no. You’re right; I just don’t like to think of the future like that. If I’m not hopeful, I get agitated and upset,” Hermione sighed, “I can’t keep going if there isn’t a _chance_ that we could all make it at the end.”

“There’s a _chance_ ,” I admitted, “I just… I know I’ll be _more_ upset if we get to the end and we lose someone and I wasn’t mentally prepared for it.”

“Then we’ll agree to think of the future in different ways,” Hermione declared.

“Yeah,” I agreed, “That’s how we’ll have to do it.”

There was a large wind over the roof; Hermione stood up and nodded at me to follow. I did so begrudgingly, not looking forward to the next day, and facing my family and friends.

And so the next day we all packed up to go, turning off everything in the flat and locking it all up.

“I’m going to ask Gran to keep it like this,” Neville paused, “You never know when you might need something like this.”

“Smart,” Hermione agreed.

I looked around for a long moment before turning to the others, “Hey guys. Can I talk to Neville a minute? I’m just… I need to say goodbye to this place, I guess.”

“Yeah,” Harry nodded.

“Of course!” Hermione urged, grabbing Harry and pulling him out into the hallway, closing the apartment door behind them. I looked at Neville for a long time.

“Thank you for everything,” I managed to choke out. Neville pulled me in for a long hug, holding to me tightly.

“Maggie, I would do anything for you. You know that,” Neville whispered. I pulled back from the hug and nodded at him, tears coming to my eyes that I quickly wiped away.

“I would do anything for you,” I whispered in response. Neville had tears in his eyes, too. I really, really, _really_ wanted to kiss him. But I also wanted – I don’t. It wasn’t time. His face was very close to mine, and I could feel his breath on my lips. My heart began pounding loudly in my chest and I pressed my face into his chest, which is how high he was compared to me. It was very annoying. But I wasn’t ready to kiss him yet. I wasn’t ready for everything that would mean.

“We should get going,” Neville mumbled softly, his voice kind of high-pitched.

“Yeah,” I choked out. I hugged him again, tightly wrapping my arms around his stomach, before pulling back entirely. I couldn’t move back that much, though. I couldn’t bear to have that much space between us. Neville reached out and held my hand tightly.

“We won’t arrive like this,” he clarified, “Don’t want to attract the attention of the jerk too much. But until we get there, I want to comfort you as much as possible.”

“Thanks,” I whispered, pressing my forehead into his arm again as we left the flat. Hermione’s eyes lit up momentarily when we came out holding hands, but I almost imperceptibly shook my head and her facial expression returned to normal.

We all headed out to the tube together and rode out to the edge of the city where Headquarters was. I was shaking like a leaf and they all could tell, constantly comforting me and reassuring me. I must have looked odd, with my trunk, knapsack, bow and arrows, but I didn’t care much, I couldn’t focus on that much. Neville rubbed his thumb on the top of my hand and Harry rubbed my shoulder comfortingly as the train continued through the city.

My heart was now pounding in my chest as we got up and walked down the streets out to the missing house. Neville handed me a piece of paper that said,

_The Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London._

Neville took the paper from me and actually _ate_ it, which was very surprising. Hermione snorted out loud.

“You gotta get rid of it someway,” Harry chuckled.

“Think about what you read,” Neville urged after swallowing the paper. I did, thinking hard – and when I reached the bit about number twelve, Grimmauld Place, slowly an extra house inflated between numbers eleven and thirteen, growing and growing and pushing out the other two, without notice of the muggles on either side.

“Come on, quickly,” Harry urged. We walked up into the house and I stepped inside a nearly completely dark hall. I looked around in bemusement when suddenly footsteps were rushing towards me and the lights of the hallway were turned on –

“Maggie!” cried a happy and excited voice. I looked in surprise as Ginny ran towards me and essentially tackled me with a hug; I laughed joyfully and hugged her back tightly.

“Ginny!” I greeted in response, “I’ve missed you so much!”

“I’ve missed you too!” Ginny beamed at me, tears in her eyes, “Oh it’s so good you all are here - I’ve missed you all so much! Come on, come on, everyone’s waiting – will you be okay, Maggie? The moment you need to leave to go somewhere else in the house _you do so_ , you don’t even need to say anything –“

“Thanks,” I mumbled quietly, pausing for a minute, “Everyone?”

“Everyone,” Ginny nodded, “In the kitchen and living room – Mum thought we’d have a party… should they all leave?”

“Well, is everyone everyone I know is living here, or everyone who lives here and the Order, or –“ I rambled.

“Everyone in the Order, which is everyone,” Ginny nodded, “Should I send people away –“

Neville’s face fell into a glare. Ginny looked at him in shock.

“Who should I send away?” she asked quietly.

“You can’t send anyone away,” Harry shook his head, “Neville, stop.”

“It’s fine,” I muttered quietly.

“What’s going on?” I heard Mum call from a far off room.

“Nothing Mrs. Johnson!” Hermione called, “Here, I’ll go talk to them all – what’s our official policy?”

“I thought you guys were just going to guard me,” I muttered.

“Guard her from who?” Ginny hissed.

“Should we tell Ginny?” Harry asked softly.

“Oh my god this is ridiculous,” I hissed, “You guys had a plan before we got here –“

“And then we got here!” Neville grumbled.

“And the reality of what we were going to throw you into hit us!” Hermione muttered.

“Who – what – what happened?” Ginny demanded, “Guys, seriously –“

I was shaking in my spot – the stress of this was hitting me greatly.

“Guys, if we had just _gone in_ and dealt with it all at once I’d probably be fine – this discussion is freaking me out!” I moaned – memories were coming back to my head without trigger – I gripped the railing of the stairway and groaned loudly.

“Fuck,” Harry groaned.

“Could someone please tell me what – who –“ Ginny gasped.

“Neville, carry Maggie upstairs until she comes back from this. Harry, take Ginny upstairs too and tell her. I’ll go out and talk to everyone,” Hermione ordered quietly. I felt Neville pick me up and the next thing I knew I was in another creepy, dusty old room – now with a bed, that I was lying on. I groaned softly and sat up, rubbing my head.

“So this is Headquarters,” I muttered, looking around, “Seems like Voldemort’s kind of place.”

“Right?” Neville laughed, before looking at me, “I’m sorry Maggie. You’re right. We shouldn’t have hesitated.”

“It’s okay,” I sighed.

“It is _not_ okay!” a voice screeched. I looked up to see Ginny walk into the room, her hands balled into fists, looking extremely furious.

“Ah,” I muttered.

“Ginny knows that extreme anger at the person in question is not the way to go,” Harry muttered irritably. Ginny looked at him and glared furiously.

“Yes,” she grunted begrudgingly.

“Look, I really don’t want to tell anyone else, okay? So if we could just have the party and go back to school that would be great,” I muttered irritably, looking down at my feet.

“How are we going to have the party without him getting anywhere near you?” Neville hissed.

“I’ll do it. It’s fine,” Ginny said through clenched teeth.

“You fucking will not,” Harry rolled his eyes, “Look, you already look like you’re going to claw out his windpipe!”

“I won’t claw out his windpipe,” Ginny grunted, “I’ll just rip out his heart.”

“Okay, come on,” I muttered angrily.

“What Maggie needs from us – and I don’t like it either, but we have to put her happiness in front of ours, here – is to act like everything is fine,” Neville stated calmly, “It was my mistake for not doing so when we got here. Ginny, if you can’t act like that, then you should probably leave, or at least, not attend the party.”

“No, I… I can do that,” Ginny sighed heavily.

“Good,” Neville nodded, “Now we have you on our team, here, we can all work together to keep him away from her. When we get to Hogwarts, this should be easier. We are _not telling anyone else_ , that’s the _exact opposite_ of what Maggie wants. Got it?”

Harry and Ginny nodded in unison.

“Then let’s go downstairs and have a nice party,” Neville muttered irritably. We all got up and I walked downstairs, and into the kitchen and living room, which was very grungy and foreboding – I mean the amount of dark magic that must have gone on here at some point – still. It was filled to the brim with people who all cheered when I walked in, feeling embarrassed and sheepish – I couldn’t even see the person in question.

“Welcome home, sweetheart,” Mum greeted, walking up to me and pulling me into a hug. I was relieved to see her; I felt tears pour from my eyes and I held onto her tightly.

“Hi honey,” Dad smiled, and I cried even harder as I hugged him.

“I missed you guys,” I whispered.

“We were _so_ worried,” Mum sighed.

“I wasn’t,” Dad answered proudly. I looked at him in shock.

“You’re a survivor. I knew you’d be fine. I just wanted you to come home,” Dad smiled kindly at me. I felt tears come to my eyes again and I hugged him even tighter.

“Thanks Dad,” I whispered softly.

“Well, this is a party, everyone! Come on, come on, Hermione said to not crowd her!” Mrs. Weasley urged from somewhere in the crowd. Everyone began million about and I wiped off my eyes, still sniffling somewhat. My dad patted me on the shoulder comfortingly, leading me over to a tall black man who was chatting with (the real) Alastor Moody.

“Maggie, I want you to meet Kingsley Shacklebolt – joined the Order this time, wasn’t with us last war,” Dad introduced. I held out my hand and Kingsley shook it, smiling at me.

“I’ve heard wonderful things about you – it’s a pleasure to meet you, Maggie,” Kingsley smiled.

“Nice to meet you too,” I smiled in response. Truth be told, I spent most of the party meeting new people – the Order was huge, and there were just an innumerable number of members. I also got to run into some friendly faces.

“Maggie! It’s so great to see you again! Wow you have grown since I last saw you!” Tonks beamed. She had spiky pink hair and was dressed in flannel and torn jeans – one of the few adults present not in robes.

“It’s good to see you too,” I smiled slightly, “How’s being an auror?”

“Oh brilliant – if you ignore the whole Ministry acting like prats bit – I’m much too clumsy, though, I wouldn’t have passed if it weren’t for my metamorphmagus skills –“

I also saw Lupin again, which was wonderful – he immediately asked me if there was anything he could do to help me. I reassured him there was not, but the sentiment was still greatly appreciated. Sirius was ecstatic to see me – truth be told, I just think he was glad that there was something else going on in the house he had hoped to never return to.

I also saw Sam and Luna again, who were happy to see me – well, Luna was happy; Sam was the same as he always was, though he did ask me quietly how I was. I was still avoiding Weasleys – I suppose my guards people thought it would be better if I just avoided the whole clan.

People were milling about and I saw Hermione nearby and ran to her. She looked at me in worry.

“I just want to go pee, and don’t want to go alone,” I muttered in explanation.

“Right,” Hermione nodded, “Ginny, come with us.” Ginny followed us, looking over her back nervously as we went off to the bathroom.

“I’ll go in with you – oh don’t be like that, I won’t watch – and Ginny, you guard the door,” Hermione explained. Ginny nodded, her face serious, and I went in to pee.

“This is really awkward, Hermione,” I muttered in annoyance. She was facing away from the mirror and from me, staring intently at the door.

“Yes, well, if he comes, I want a double defense,” Hermione hissed angrily.

“What are you doing here, then?” I heard a voice on the other side of the door. It was Fred – when something happens to you like it did to me, you tend to tell even the most similar voices apart.

“Waiting for Maggie.”

“Can I see her? I’ve missed her, too,” Fred snorted.

“No,” Ginny answered simply.

“Oh _bullocks –_ “

“No, Fred. Now go.”

“Can _I_ see her?”

I felt all the blood drain from my face; I was suddenly in the library again –

Hermione had put her hand over my mouth, instantly knowing what was happening, to stop me from screaming. The difference in conditions jolted me back to the present and I looked at her in terror, breathing heavily.

“No, not you either. Go.”

“What the fuck, Ginny?”

“You can’t see her, now don’t argue unless you want me to curse you! Go!” Ginny shouted angrily.

“Maggie, count to ten,” Hermione urged. I nodded, feeling humiliated being on the toilet as I was, counting to ten in my head and thinking of Neville.

“You good?” Hermione whispered. I nodded; she got up and let me finish. I walked, shaking, to wash my hands.

“This is going to be difficult,” Hermione murmured kindly. I nodded, looking at her fearfully.

“How am I supposed to go back to school?”

“You just have to,” Hermione sighed heavily, “Avoid the common room as much as possible –“

“I can’t go to the library, either!”

“Right,” Hermione frowned, “You’re just going to… I dunno… find another place.”

“Hogwarts isn’t _that_ big, Hermione,” I muttered angrily as I washed my hands.

“You’d be surprised,” she answered shrewdly. As I stared at my pale, haggard reflection in the mirror, I certainly hoped she was right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And yeah Maggie's got a long road ahead. Next up... the Umbitch! Dun dun duuuun! Please leave a comment!


	54. Chapter Fifty - Three: September 1, 1995, Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You've got suckers' luck 
> 
> Have you given up? 
> 
> Does it feel like a trial? 
> 
> Does it trouble your mind the way you trouble mine? 
> 
> Does it feel like a trial? 
> 
> Did you fall for the same empty answers again?" 
> 
> ~ The National, "Exile Vilify".

Chapter 53: September 1st, 1995, Hogwarts

I slept that night in Neville’s bed from earlier in the summer; the other three made sure no one noticed, which wasn’t hard since Neville and Harry had just shared a room. I then woke up early to make the train before anyone – especially one person – knew where I had slept. I was sitting in the dusty, creepy old kitchen, eating cereal, hoping that others would be up soon.

“Hey,” a voice greeted. I felt my entire body seize up with pure fear; the spoon was shaking in my hand.

“Hey,” I mumbled so quietly I knew it was almost imperceptible. I had to get out of there again – I had to run – I had to run _now –_

“Maggie! I didn’t see you at the party!” I looked up to see Claire running towards me, “How are you? Elena said you were just awful back in Chicago – sorry, I’m sort of excited to go back to Hogwarts now that I’m not some lowly first year.” She said all of this very fast. I quickly turned to her, relaxing immediately – at least I wasn’t in a room _alone_ with him anymore.

“You seem strangely upbeat,” I said, though my voice was hoarse.

“I’m just… I dunno,” Claire frowned, “Yeah. I’m just excited, like I said. I have a good feeling about this year.”

“Your gut’s been wrong before,” Elena snorted, walking into the room and sitting on the other side of me, “Hey sis.”

“Hey,” I gave her a long hug, murmuring “I’m sorry” into her ear.

“Eh, don’t worry about it. I’m the queen of crazy,” Elena snorted, grabbing a piece of toast from the table, “Not really in a position to judge.”

“Maggie!” I looked up to see Fred – he ran and hugged me too. I laughed weakly.

“Hey Fred,” I greeted. He looked at me and I could still, distinctly, separate him from his brother in my mind.

“Good to see you – man, I’ve missed you. Sorry things have been tough,” he frowned sadly.

“Thanks,” I nodded, “I think it’s going to be better going forward, though.”

“That’s the right attitude!” he cheered, clapping me on the back, “There’s the Maggie I know and love.”

I laughed weakly. I still didn’t look at the other one, though I knew he had sat down at the table.

“You all are too loud,” grunted Ron, coming down the stairs. He was also a friendly sight to see.

“Hey Maggie,” he nodded, “Glad to see you back. Seriously, though, it’s early, don’t be prats.”

“We have to get to King’s Cross early, don’t be an idiot,” the other twin muttered in a corner. I didn’t look at him; I didn’t want to see his face.

“Is your sister here, Claire?” I asked quietly.

“Yeah, she isn’t happy about it, either. But my parents joined the Order, and I’m friends with Elena, so, well, she didn’t have much of a choice,” Claire explained.

“Maggie?” I looked up and saw Neville standing there. He looked terrified.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I answered quietly.

“Why wouldn’t she be fine?” Elena asked worriedly, looking back and forth between us in terror.

“It’s fine, really, Neville’s being paranoid,” I wrote off, getting up, “I should get my things.” I walked past everyone up the stairs, but the pounding of my heart in my chest made me lean, anxiously, against the railing of the stairs.

“Mags,” Neville murmured softly.

“Yeah, I-I’m fine,” I repeated, though my voice was shaking now.

“I’m sorry, I should have insisted we go down together,” he murmured softly. The house creaked; though the others were still in the kitchen, talking.

“It’s okay, it’s hard to think of everything,” I took a very long deep breath.

“Other people were around, though – nothing would have happened to you –“

“He came down first,” I mumbled. The house creaked again. Neville looked at me in horror.

“It’s okay. Nothing happened. Claire came down almost immediately afterwards. Let’s just – let’s just get ready to go, I just want to go,” I muttered.

“Maggie…”

“Neville, come on!” I almost managed to shout, “I just want to get ready to leave!”

“Okay,” he nodded, “Okay.” We walked up the rest of the steps and I grabbed Albus and Darwin, piling them on top of my trunk. Neville wrapped his arms around me in a hug and I received it willingly, trying to not cry again.

“Guys,” we looked up and saw Ginny, “Erm… sorry.”

“No, it’s okay,” I pulled back from Neville and flushed madly, “What’s up?”

“I was just coming to ask if you wanted to leave early. I think Harry and Hermione are almost ready to go, and Mum thinks it’ll be easier if we go in two groups – so I offered to grab Claire and Elena and then have us all leave together. Then Fred, Ron, Luna, Sam, Valerie, and the great prat can all leave in a second group,” Ginny explained.

“I do want to leave early,” I nodded.

“I’m almost done packing,” Neville turned and quickly grabbed the rest of his things from around the room.

“Great. You lot have transit cards, so you’ll actually be able to not hold up any part of our journey,” Ginny rolled her eyes, “I think your Mum is going to take us, Maggie.”

“Won’t your mum want to leave with you?” I asked softly.

“Nah, she’s volunteered to take the second group, since the people who are going to be late would need a… stern-er hand. Your mum’s fine,” Ginny laughed.  

“Alright,” I nodded, “Then let’s get going.”

Claire and Elena grumbled about leaving so fast, but they came anyway, and Dad and Mum brought us off to King’s Cross. First, though, we had to ride the tube from Grimmauld Place.

“Alright, you four, go on through – you three, we have to get you passes for the day, come on,” Mum sighed.

“Ha, ha,” Harry teased. Ginny stuck her tongue out at him in annoyance.

“Hurry up,” Hermione muttered under her breath. Only I heard, and I patted her comfortingly on the shoulder.

“Come on, let’s swipe in,” Neville sighed. We all went through to the train and the others soon followed behind us, all of us looking quite odd as we filed onto the train and took off towards King’s Cross St. Pancras station.

“Alright everyone, get to the train now, we don’t want to doddle,” Mum urged. We went through the barrier, and the familiar smoke of the old train filled my lungs. I sighed, looking over at Neville, who rubbed my back comfortingly.

“Alright, bye kids – my kids, let me hug you,” Mum ordered. I ran up to her and gave her a tight hug before turning to Dad and doing the same.

“You be good, kids,” Dad instructed, smiling cheekily.

“ _Actually_ follow that order, please,” Mum groaned.

“What are the odds of that?” Harry and I said in unison.

“Honestly,” Mum rolled her eyes in annoyance.

“Seriously, though, be careful,” Dad paused, “Don’t hesitate to write us or Padfoot if anything happens.”

“Gotcha,” Harry agreed.

“I promise to write every day,” Elena urged.

“Good,” Mum paused, “Goodbye.” She had tears in her eyes.

“Bye, Mum!” Elena and I said in unison as Harry said, “Bye Aunt Melinda!” We then all climbed on the train after our friends.

We were very early; almost every compartment was open.

“I’m going to save a compartment for Luna and anyone who wants to join us,” Ginny paused.

“Honestly, though, Neville and I need to go up front,” Hermione admitted sheepishly.

“Why?” the rest of us asked in unison.

“Prefect stuff,” Neville muttered sadly.

“It’s okay, I’ll be with her,” Harry nodded.

“We’ll come back when we’re done, though!” Hermione reassured.

“We’re going to go sit somewhere else. Maybe there will be some people who actually join us,” Elena rolled her eyes, “At any rate, we shouldn’t associate with you lot _too_ much. See you later.” She and Claire walked off with Hermione and Neville towards the front of the train. I looked at Harry and Ginny sadly.

“Let’s get a compartment,” Ginny stated firmly, “I told Luna she could sit with us – and then Sam, too, since he usually sits with her. Then we have two saved seats – that’s plenty for a compartment, we can shoo the twins away easy.”

“Alright,” I muttered. We went and found an empty compartment and I sat down against the window; the last time I had been on this train, I hadn’t been sure I would come back.

“This is surreal,” Harry said my unspoken thoughts.

“Understatement,” I muttered.

“At least there isn’t a tournament this year,” Ginny stated firmly, “It shouldn’t be too bad.”

“Wonder who they got for Defense,” I commented dully.

“I hear Dumbledore had real trouble,” Ginny frowned, “I mean, people think the job’s jinxed, don’t they?”

“Any whispers at Headquarters? Lord knows we haven’t been there in ages,” Harry asked.

“No, no whispers… well, one, but I’m not sure how valid it is,” Ginny grimaced.

“What?” Harry and I asked in unison.

“Well, there was a decree, according to Dad, earlier in the summer. Says the Ministry can appoint professors if the Headmaster can’t find one,” Ginny growled, “Completely oversteps the Ministry’s boundaries, I mean Hogwarts existed _long_ before it – anyway, I think that means that the Ministry appointed someone.”

“Oh _no_ ,” I groaned.

“They can’t be too bad, can they? I mean they have to teach, they’re out in the open, they can’t get away with something nefarious,” Ginny interjected nervously.

“I don’t trust anyone coming out of the Ministry,” Harry shook his head, “Didn’t the Order tell you they tried to kill us?”

“Oh yes,” Ginny nodded, “I just… well… that was in the middle of the night, in the middle of London. Hogwarts is safer, still.”

“You’d be surprised at how not-safe Hogwarts can be,” I muttered, leaning against the wall. Ginny and Harry were stunned into silence, both with expressions on their faces that indicated they were horrified with themselves.

“Let’s do something fun,” Ginny declared finally, “Maggie, you have to take your mind off it, you said yourself –“

“Yeah, I know,” I sighed, “What could we even do that’s _fun_?”

“Dance around in a blood stone circle?” Sam asked, walking in. Luna was following him, and she closed the compartment door behind him.

“What d’you do that for, eh?” Sam asked her curiously.

“Well Neville and Hermione aren’t here, and then they’ll fill it up, won’t they?” Luna clarified.

“True,” Sam shrugged, “It’s alright that we’re here, yes?”

“Of course,” the three of us answered in unison. Sam sat down across from me, staring out the window. Luna sat next to him, in between him and Harry. Ginny was somewhat squished between Harry and the wall.

“You do realize there’s an _entire_ side of the compartment right here next to me?” I laughed.

“Well you should sit next to Neville,” Ginny offered.

“What’s going on with you two, anyway?” Sam asked shrewdly.

“Nothing. He’s been helping me recover,” I responded honestly. Sam looked skeptical but didn’t press the issue.

“Well, four people are going to have to be on one side regardless,” Harry sighed. Luna pulled out a magazine and immediately held it upside down.

“What’s that?” I asked curiously.

“Quibbler,” she answered breathily, “There’s an article this month that must be read upside-down.”

“… Okay then,” I frowned, looking back at Sam, “So about that blood stone circle idea…”

“Don’t knock it till you try it,” Sam snorted, “I mean, it’s complete bull, but it’s a muggle way of calling demons. We could use some demons on our side if you ask me, the other side has a surplus.”

“We wouldn’t really be the good side if we used _demons_ ,” Ginny snorted.

“Good, bad, these are arbitrary labels, without historical context. We can’t know who’s good and who’s bad till it’s been about a thousand years,” Sam rolled his eyes.

“Sam, Voldemort is _pure evil_ ,” Harry looked at him in amusement, “Surely you know that.”

“Of course, _I_ know that, by the arbitrary standards set by our society, and thus that is how I will operate. But some people think the Ministry is good, where we think it is evil,” Sam shrugged, “These are labels that none can truly understand until time has passed and the best course of events can be determined in hindsight.”

“I really doubt the people who deny others their rights on a frequent and regular basis will be considered the good guys,” I muttered.

“And I’m inclined to agree, but how could we know?” Sam shrugged, “We are limited to our perspective, from this time frame. We are limited to our worldview. Hitler thought that he was the good guy.”

“Hitler?” Ginny asked, frowning.

“Muggle version of Voldemort,” Sam, Harry and I answered in unison.

“How could there be a muggle version of Voldemort? His whole shtick is muggles are inferior,” Ginny raised an eyebrow.

“Racism,” Sam and I answered in unison again.

“He was obsessed with a ‘pure German race,’” Harry scowled angrily, “Killed eleven million people, six million of those were Jewish people, cause he thought they were inferior.”

“Bloody hell!” Ginny shouted in shock, “When did this happen?”

“Nineteen forties,” Sam shrugged.

“That wasn’t that long ago! Who let him get away with it?” Ginny demanded angrily.

“Idiots who didn’t want to acknowledge another war was coming,” I snorted.

“See, there had been a first huge war – World War I – where a lot of people died. Hitler was gathering up troops, strength, that sort of thing – conquering countries around Germany – and all the leaders at the time kept letting him, thinking that eventually he’d be satisfied and stop doing it, and they wouldn’t have to have another world war,” Sam explained, “Course, it didn’t work, but still. Then everyone was busy fighting him and couldn’t really get inside to rescue people.”

“Also, didn’t help that lots of people were – still are – racist against Jewish people. And the Romani people. And are prejudiced against Polish people – and the disabled – and gay people…” my voice trailed off in anger.

“Basically, Hitler might have been extreme, but a lot of people agreed with his basic premise of racism and hatred towards certain groups of people,” Harry sighed.

Ginny’s mouth was open in shock, “Do you think that could happen to us?”

“Well, there are fewer people in the UK than there are in the area Hitler targeted with his genocide,” I frowned.

“But… something equivalently bad? Yeah,” Sam groaned.

“And I’d like to point out the similarity in trying to deny the inevitable war,” Harry grunted in annoyance.

“Bloody hell, the Ministry is a load of idiots!” Ginny sighed.

“Understatement of the century,” I muttered.

“I can’t believe… that that happened,” Ginny groaned, putting her hands over her eyes, “How could everyone be so horrible to people just based on their ethnicity?”

“You would be amazingly surprised,” Sam and I stated in unison. Harry snorted.

“Hello, two members of minority ethnic groups here,” Sam began.

“And we are here to tell you that racism is alive and well even in the Wizarding World,” I continued.

“The number of times I’ve been called ‘Ching Chong’ is kind of obscene,” Sam grimaced angrily.

“I really hate jokes about how I am a savage!” I furthered.

“And it is loads of fun to be told to immigrate back home to my native country,” Sam rolled his eyes.

“I do love being told that I am dirty because of the color of my skin,” I pursed my lips together angrily.

“This doesn’t just affect us! You can ask Hermione, who is often called a dirty Arab,” Sam continued.

“And my sister, who looks very much white, is constantly being asked if she is adopted, or if she has a different father than I do,” I sneered in hatred.

“Would be pretty odd if she did, seeing as we were on the run when she was conceived,” Harry snorted.

“Well, we were in _Chicago_ , in hiding, but yes,” I sighed.

“And then you just have to ask one of the many other members of our lives – Angelina, Alicia, and Katie – for more perspectives on how wonderfully cheery wizards and witches can be,” I smiled in a very fake manner.

“I’m sorry guys… I don’t notice much,” Ginny grimaced.

“Why would you?” Sam rolled his eyes.

“At any rate, let’s not dwell on our corpse-strewn past. Let’s celebrate our corpse-strewn future,” I smirked cheerfully.

“You really shouldn’t try summoning demons, you know,” Luna stated airily from behind her magazine. We all looked at her in confusion.

“They can cause terrible back problems and turn your hair purple,” she clarified, before going back to reading. We all looked at each other in wordless bemusement.

“At any rate, I’m willing to bet Voldemort has racism in his toolbox of hate, too,” I sighed heavily.

“Probably sexism as well. I mean look at his Death Eaters – I was there – very few women,” Harry snarled.

“Queerphobia? Anyone?” Ginny offered.

“Probably… also, you can’t use that word,” I frowned at her. She grinned cheekily.

“You, my friend, made most of your group of friends realize their true queer nature that day last year,” Ginny laughed.

“Oh my god, do you have a label?” I asked eagerly.

“Just bisexual,” she shrugged, “Still, it’s nice to know.”

“Of course,” I laughed. Harry smirked in amusement.

“I’m willing to bet Voldemort wouldn’t exactly be _happy_ with LGBT folk,” Harry paused, “But I think he’s very focused on the anti-non pureblood wizards bit of his agenda.”

“I kind of want to wave a whole bunch of queer stuff in his face,” I paused, “Gay it up as much as possible.”

“Take him to a pride parade?” Ginny offered.

“I can picture it now,” I smirked in amusement.

“Voldemort, in rainbow robes,” Sam snorted.

“Voldemort _in a rainbow speedo!_ ” Ginny giggled.

“Guys, none of you met the guy and saw him rise naked from a cauldron last year, this really isn’t a pretty image,” Harry groaned, holding his head in his hands.

“What isn’t a pretty image?” Neville asked. He and Hermione were squeezing into the car, Neville immediately sitting next to me.

“Oh god, do _not_ ask,” Harry grunted into his hands.

“Alright then,” Hermione frowned in amusement.

“Has the trolley gone by? I’m famished,” Neville asked eagerly.

“Not yet, no,” Ginny shook her head, “Man I feel squished.

“This is probably over maximum capacity,” Hermione acknowledged, “There should really be six of us, not seven.”

“Eh, who would we chuck out?” Harry shook his head.

“Good point,” Hermione admitted.

“I could perch from the luggage rack,” Sam offered.

“That would be amusing,” I snorted.

“I’m going to try it,” he declared, grabbing hold of the railing and pulling himself up. He managed to do it surprisingly easily, crouching on top of our trunks and grinning down at us.

“Now this is a view!”

Ginny was giggling uncontrollably.

“Alright, so tell us about the meeting,” Harry rolled his eyes.

“Well there are two fifth-year prefects from each House, and you serve as prefect for two years,” Hermione explained, “Seventh year you really just have Head Boy and Girl.”

“Guess who is the prefect for Slytherin?” Neville muttered darkly.

“Fuck,” I groaned.

“Yup. Malfoy,” Neville grunted angrily, “And Pansy Parkinson is the girl one. Hufflepuff’s Ernie Macmillan and Hannah Abbot, and Anthony Goldstein and Padma Patil are the ones for Ravenclaw.”

“Of _course_ ,” Sam groaned. He was lying on his back, staring at the ceiling.

“Are you… angry about this appointment?” Hermione asked, smirking.

“I mean, _I_ wasn’t going to get it, but Goldstein is a tool,” Sam answered simply.

“We’re supposed to patrol the corridors occasionally, and we can give out punishments to people for misbehaving,” Hermione explained.

“I am going to get Crabbe and Goyle for something, mark my words,” Neville muttered darkly.

“Neville, we _talked_ about this –“

“Look, you really don’t think Malfoy is going to pounce on Maggie and Harry the first chance he gets? I’m just fighting a war that was already declared,” Neville shook his head in amusement.

“I don’t see that war ending well!” Hermione sighed.

“Are you kidding? I’ll make Crabbe do lines, it’ll be freaking hilarious. And I’ll make Goyle – I dunno, also do lines? They’re both complete idiots, I’ll be sure to punish them accordingly,” Neville had a dreamy look on his face.

“You are going to get us into trouble for abusing your power!” Hermione hissed.

“Yeah, and Malfoy won’t abuse his _at all_. Nope, I’m not letting him get away with any _shite_ this time,” Neville sneered.

“Language, Longbottom, or I’ll have to write you up!” We all looked to see the door had opened and Malfoy was already sneering at us, Crabbe and Goyle standing sullenly behind him.

“Wow, this compartment is rather overcrowded. But you’re used to that, eh, Weasley?” Malfoy laughed. Ginny hissed at him angrily.

“Careful! You could turn out like Johnson! She’s verifiably insane!” Malfoy chortled.

“Shut up, Malfoy,” Hermione muttered darkly.

“How does it feel to be second-best to _Longbottom_ , Potter?” Malfoy asked, clutching his side with laughter.

“Oh fuck off,” I snorted.

“I’m going to write you up for that one, Johnson!” Malfoy insisted, “I’d watch my back if I were you – never know when your privacy could be _violated_ –“

“Get out!” Neville roared. Malfoy snorted and left, Crabbe and Goyle following him. He looked at me fearfully – as did Ginny, Hermione, and Harry. Sam looked confused, and Luna was still reading her magazine.

 _How could he know?_ I looked at Neville and shook my head quietly. I couldn’t discuss this in front of Luna or Sam.

The train crawled on towards Hogwarts, the rain changing between clouds, sun, and rain so quickly it was like whiplash. I spent most of the ride staring out the window, quickly losing energy to talk to anyone.

“We should change,” Hermione stated after a while. We all turned away from each other as we got into our uniforms, Hermione and Neville both carefully pinning their badges to their chests. Neville looked at his in complete disgust.

“Gran was pleased,” he muttered quietly, as though to himself – as though he needed convincing that it was a good thing.

The train began to slow and we all made our way off of it, Neville and Hermione leaving to supervise everyone departing. I looked at Harry dejectedly.

“They won’t be gone that much, come on,” he soothed as we grabbed their things – including Neville’s owl, Gretchen, and Crookshanks. We walked out into the night air and moved towards the edge of the platform – but there was no sign of Hagrid.

“Where is he?” I asked in worry.

“No idea,” Ginny shook her head, “Come on, we have to keep moving.”

We walked towards the horseless stagecoaches that would take us to the castle – but Harry and I both did a double take in shock.

The coaches were no longer horseless – they were harnessed to weird, black, reptilian like horses that were fleshless, with dragonish heads and pupil-less eyes. They had vast, black, leathery wings on their shoulders, and the animals looked eerie and sinister.

“Why’d they get rid of the… erm… why’d they add the horses?” I asked in confusion.

“What horses?” Neville asked; he and Hermione had run up to us.

“We can’t all fit into a carriage – I’ll go with Sam and Luna,” Ginny said, “See you all at the feast.” She and the other two left in the crowd as Harry dragged Neville, Hermione and me to a carriage.

“What horses?” Neville repeated.

“There are these weird horse things pulling the carriages now, can’t you see them?” Harry asked in amazement.

“Er… no,” Hermione looked at us both in worry.

“What?” I asked in surprise, “Mione, they’re _right there_ –“

“I can’t see anything either,” Neville frowned apologetically.

“But you both can?” Hermione asked.

Harry and I nodded in worry. Neville and Hermione shared terrified glances.

“Well, it’s rare for two people to have identical hallucinations. Let’s not worry about it,” Hermione stated firmly.

“I hope Hagrid hasn’t left again,” Neville muttered sadly, clearly looking to change the subject.

“Yeah – why’s that Grubbly-Plank woman here again?” I hissed angrily.

“Well he had a mission this summer, remember? Maybe he isn’t back yet,” Hermione responded reasonably.

“That’s got to be it,” I nodded eagerly. The carriages pulled up to the castle and we all bustled outside, wandering into the Great Hall and taking our seat at the Gryffindor Table.

Once again, I was overwhelmed with how different of a person I was. I held my head in my hands, feeling somewhat woozy. Neville wrapped his arm around my shoulder and soothed me quietly.

“Are you going to have a flashback – we should probably get you somewhere else – maybe you should eat in a different room –“ Hermione rambled anxiously.

“No,” I responded firmly, “I have to try and act as normal as possible.”

“Drawing less attention to herself is a good thing,” Harry reminded, “Remember? She’s a violent maniac according to the Daily Prophet.”

“If I start collapsing with flashbacks, they’ll say I’m also an attention-seeking lunatic like Harry,” I muttered angrily.

“Especially if there’s a Ministry person here,” Harry muttered darkly.

“Ministry person?” Hermione and Neville asked in unison. Harry filled them in on what Ginny had told us on the train as I continued to hold my head in my hands.

“That must be her,” Hermione hissed. I looked up to see a woman dressed in a horrifically bright pink cardigan over her robes, which were also pink (but darker), a pink head band on her short, curly, brown hair, and a pale, toad like face and pouchy, prominent eyes.

“Who the fuck is that,” I muttered irritably. I already didn’t like her. Too much _pink_.

“No idea,” Harry sighed, “Wish Aunt Melinda was here, she’d be able to tell us.”

“Sadly, the Tournament is over, and she doesn’t work at the Ministry anymore,” I groaned, “No reason for her to be here.”

“Professor Dumbledore will introduce her, he always does,” Neville reassured.

The first years were all coming into the Great Hall and I sat back, sighing, looking around at the hall to try and get used to it again. I could feel my fingers twitching slightly in nervousness.

“Maggie, don’t shift here, that would be terrible,” Hermione hissed.

“I won’t,” I muttered, “I got this.” I looked over at Neville for a short minute, which allowed me to calm down. Neville didn’t notice.

The hat sang a very long, very foreboding song, that essentially told us that we all needed to work together in order to be safe – all the houses needed to band together now more than ever. It left me in a whirl of confusion, as the Hat had never given warnings before. We were sitting a ways off from the rest of the Gryffindors, at the back end of the table, with Ginny, Ron, and Fred forming a sort of barrier – unfortunately, the other twin was with them too. As such, none of us could ask anyone if this was normal behavior.

The students were now being sorted; I put my head in my hands and sat it out. Everything was extremely overwhelming for me.

“I dunno if I’ll be able to sleep tonight no matter where I am,” I muttered sadly.

“What do you want to do, then?” Neville asked quietly.

“What do you mean? I have to try,” I groaned.

“I wish I could help more,” Neville grimaced sadly.

“Trust me, you’re already doing _more_ than enough,” I shook my head. I felt so antsy my hand went for the knives I had strewn about my belt – taking a leaf out of Ginny’s book.

“No one’s going to attack you,” Harry murmured kindly from across the table. I nodded, but for some reason, I was not convinced.

“I’m just glad I can use magic to defend myself again,” I muttered softly, “I need all the lines of defense I can get.”

“Who do you think is going to attack you?” Hermione asked shrewdly.

“The Ministry lady, for one,” I rolled my eyes.

“She has a point,” Neville muttered.

“She won’t _attack_ us with _Dumbledore_ here, surely –“ Hermione hissed. But Dumbledore had stood up; the first-years were all sorted.

“To our newcomers,” Dumbledore stretched his arms wide in welcome, “Welcome! To our old hands – welcome back! There is a time for speech making, but this is not it. Tuck in!”

There was a laugh around the hall and I grabbed some food that had appeared up from the kitchens; I still ate very slowly, savoring every bite as though it would be my last.

“Maggie will never finish food first again,” Ron commented.

“Don’t be a prat, Ron, she was homeless,” Ginny hissed.

“Food is delicious,” I muttered softly. Neville rubbed my back comfortingly again. Except, it wasn’t true that I would never finish food first again – my appetite had slowly been returning to something similar to normal since Neville had found me. But for some reason, being back at Hogwarts – having that woman sitting up at the table – with Hagrid gone, and the hat’s song so foreboding, and those weird horses at the carriages that only I and Harry could see…

I felt like I was on the run again.

The back of my neck prickled nervously as I shivered at the thought.

Soon enough, everyone finished their food, and Dumbledore got to his feet. I was getting tired, and I hoped that McGonagall had found a way for me to be able to sleep through the night, without attracting attention to myself. It was all about being invisible…

“Well, now that we are all digesting another magnificent feast, I beg a few moments of your attention for the usual start-of-term notices,” Dumbledore began, “First years ought to know that the forest in the grounds is out of bounds to students – and a few of our older students ought to know by now, too.”

I snorted into my hand.

“Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me, for what he tells me is the four hundred and sixty-second time, to remind you all that magic is not permitted in the corridors between classes, nor are a number of other things, all of which can be checked on the extensive list now fastened to Mr. Filch’s door. We have two changes in staffing this year. We are very pleased to welcome back Professor Grubbly-Plank, who will be taking Care of Magical Creatures lessons; we are also delighted to introduce Professor Umbridge, our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.”

“When is Hagrid getting back?” Harry hissed angrily.

“Umbridge… Harry, Mum has mentioned her before!” I muttered in worry.

“What did she say?” Hermione asked sharply.

“She’s one of Fudge’s cronies!” I groaned. Neville looked ill at the thought.

“Tryouts for the House Quidditch teams will take place on the…” Dumbledore began, but he was cut off. Professor Umbridge had interrupted him – she had gotten to her feet, and was going to make a seat. Professor Dumbledore looked confused, but sat down politely.

I was growling very softly; my fingers were twitching.

“Maggie, _count_ ,” the three urged me in unison. The other members of staff looked just as surprised – McGonagall looked furious. Most of the students looked amused – _no one_ interrupted Dumbledore.

“Thank you, Headmaster,” Umbridge began, “For those kind words of welcome.” She had a high0pitched, breathy, and girlish voice that made me growl more.

“Fuck,” Neville muttered.

She kept making these really annoying throat-clearing coughs – _hem hem_ – that made me want to shift and bite her hand off.

“Well, it is lovely to be back at Hogwarts, I must say! And to see happy little faces looking back at me!”

Everyone, however, looked shocked rather than happy – she was addressing us like babies.

“I am very much looking forward to getting to know you all, and I’m sure we’ll be very good friends!”

Hermione practically snorted into her pudding. Umbridge cleared her throat again, but she now lost the girlish tone to her voice – sounding very businesslike.

“The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards to be of vital importance. The rare gifts you with which you were born may come to nothing if not nurtured and honed by careful instruction. The ancient skills unique to the Wizarding community must be passed down through the generations lest we lose them forever. The treasure trove of magical knowledge amassed by our ancestors must be guarded, replenished, and polished by those who have been called to the noble profession of teaching,” Umbridge bowed to the other members of staff. McGonagall looked livid, and she and Sprout looked at each other for a long moment.

“Every headmaster and headmistress of Hogwarts has brought something new to the weighty task of governing this historic school, and that is as it should be, for without progress there will be stagnation and decay. There again, progress for progress’s sake must be discouraged, for our tried and tested traditions often require no tinkering. A balance, then, between old and new, between permanence and change, between tradition and innovation, is required for the maintenance of order. It is important to recognize which changes are necessary for the functionality of our school, while others must be discouraged for the preservation of our traditions and knowledge. Furthermore, there is importance to be placed on looking into our own habits and practices, in addition to those of the school – we must work together to preen ourselves and each other, to make sure that there is no weakness present in our practices, so that we may be efficient and directed towards our main goal: education. It is important to focus on the fact that we are all aimed towards preparing ourselves for the important markers of education – examinations. Focus on these time-honored measurements, and not on detractors or distractors, must be maintained. It is also important to utilize tradition as a method of keeping on track towards the goal of good examination marks. Tradition, especially British Wizarding tradition, has held up to the test of time. Old ideas, entrenched in our society, have value for preserving it; our methods of innovation and research have brought such new inventions in magic like has never been seen before, and require no modification. It is important to note that, while foreign ideas and mindsets may seem attractive, it is important to recognize that the rules and regulations that have lead to our own standards here are placed for a reason, to maintain order and regularity to our practices of magic. These rules and regulations must thus be enforced here, at the baseline at which all wizards and witches enter Hogwarts, and none other; maintain the status quo, and keep order in how our society defines ourselves and each other, in order to preserve it. Where these rules have been let slack in the past, they must be enforced now; where there is discipline lacking, rules must be added. It is important to note that this change is not to be regarded entirely with fear or entirely with enthusiasm. Change is not something that can altogether be fully understood, because some changes will be for the better, while others will come, in the fullness of time, to be recognized as errors of judgment. Meanwhile, some old habits will be retained, and rightly so, whereas others, outmoded and outworn, must be abandoned. Let us move forward, then, into a new era of openness, effectiveness, and accountability, intent on preserving what ought to be preserved, perfecting what needs to be perfected, and pruning wherever we find practice that ought to be prohibited.”

She sat down. I had broken my spoon in my hand with my anger. Hermione’s fingernails had dug into the table. Neville had gritted his teeth in fury. Harry was hissing softly under his breath. Few of the professors clapped at Umbridge’s speech; Dumbledore was one of the only ones. Most of the students themselves had fallen asleep during the speech itself; those were the ones who clapped now, but unenthusiastically, unaware that the speech had ended. Very few people seemed to have listened.

“Thank you very much, Professor Umbridge, that was most illuminating,” Dumbledore bowed to Umbridge, “Now, as I was saying, Quidditch tryouts will be held…”

“Yes, illuminating, that is a word I would use,” Hermione muttered.

“Wait, you enjoyed that?” Ron asked next to us, “That was the dullest speech I’ve ever heard, and I grew up with Percy.”

“I said illuminating, not enjoyable,” Hermione shook her head, “It explained quite a bit, actually.”

“It sounded like a load of waffle to me,” Ron continued.

“There was important stuff hidden in the waffle,” Hermione muttered grimly.

“Really?” Ron asked.

“Did you hear a word of that?” Neville grunted, “Seriously, Ron? The Ministry is going to interfere at Hogwarts. And it’s going to be bad.”

“It was practically like that speech was tailor made to target _us_ ,” Harry hissed softly.

“Did you hear – she basically said ‘witches and wizards, that’s it.’ I don’t know whether that was against squibs – or muggles – or people like werewolves – or _nonbinary people_ ,” Neville hissed.

“What’s the term for a nonbinary magic user?” I asked softly. My hand was bleeding from the force of breaking the spoon, but I didn’t really notice it much.

“Wix, plural is wixen,” Neville muttered softly.

“How hard would it to be to add that?” Harry shook his head in annoyance.

“Neville!” Hermione suddenly gasped, “Neville, we have to guide the First Years!” The students around us appeared to be getting up and leaving; Dumbledore had dismissed us.

“Maggie, you’re bleeding,” Harry frowned as Neville followed Hermione to direct the first years.

“How is Neville going to remember the passwords? He’s a Prefect, he actually needs to know them now,” I muttered softly.

“Never mind that, you’re _bleeding_ , a _lot_ ,” Harry hissed, “Come on, let’s go.”

“Where are we even going to go?” I muttered angrily, “No attention on me, remember?”

“Right,” Harry groaned. People were pointing and whispering at us as they passed; I looked at him worriedly. He was holding his head in his hands.

“This isn’t easy for me, either,” he whispered.

“I’m sorry,” I murmured, “I’ve been so caught up in myself –“

“As you should be!” Harry agreed, “I’m not falling into flashbacks every minute – we have to find McGonagall.”

“In this mess?” I shook my head disbelievingly.

“Well, where else will we look,” Harry muttered darkly, “Come on.”

We wandered up towards the front table; the staff members had all dispersed and McGonagall was nowhere to be found. We went back into the crowd and walked towards her office in a hurry, me having wrapped a napkin from the table around my hand.

“You broke that during her speech?” Harry asked.

“Yes. Did you hear her? The way she talked – I think she knows about – _my mission_ ,” I hissed quietly.

“Or she doesn’t want you doing your Gran’s work with McGonagall,” Harry offered, though he looked nervous.

“Either way – I have to lay low. I really, _really_ have to,” I groaned.

The students looked at us in fear as they passed us; the blood dripping from my hand couldn’t have been helping. I groaned, leaning against a wall.

“Maggie, we shouldn’t stay in one place,” Harry frowned.

“I know, but I’m tired,” I explained softly, “This really isn’t easy for me.”

“Course,” Harry nodded, “I feel like I’ve been transported in time. Who was I the last time I was here?”

“I don’t even know,” I shook my head sadly, “I don’t think I’m even close to being the same person.”

“Probably not,” Harry agreed.

I watched as a group of people walked by – Slytherins. They all snorted at me, whispering behind their hands and laughing. I reached for a knife at my belt, hissing quietly.

“Maggie?” Harry muttered, “ _Lay low_.”

I nodded, letting go of the knife.

We walked again, towards McGonagall’s office. Harry knocked on the door, me clutching my bleeding hand tenderly. She quickly answered the door and rushed us in.

“Yes – it’s good you’re both here – I should go and get Granger and Longbottom,” McGonagall declared, “Stay here – I’ll be back in a moment.” We sat in chairs in front of her desk; she had apparently not even noticed I was bleeding.

“The toad is going to meddle at Hogwarts,” Harry muttered angrily.

“Then we have to meddle back,” I muttered.

“Laying low?” Harry repeated.

“ _While_ laying low,” I acknowledged.

McGonagall came back in then, Neville and Hermione with her. They sat down and she went back to her desk.

“I assume you all listened to Umbridge’s speech?” McGonagall asked.

We all nodded in unison.

“Good, then you know what’s at stake,” McGonagall asked, “Neville – I’m aware of your epiphany.”

“What – how –“

“When I tried to name you the male prefect for your year, there was some… issues, since it’s a magical process. See, the magic at hand said you were ‘invalid.’ I looked into it – apparently Hogwarts will throw you in whatever dormitory matches your assigned gender at birth, but from that point on if you have a gender identity other than male or female, you will run into problems with some of the processes here,” McGonagall paused, “May I ask what your identity is?”

“Agender,” Neville muttered quietly.

“Alright,” McGonagall nodded, “I’m sorry – I had assumed your friends knew –“

“Of course they do,” Neville sighed, “I’m just… upset that I was found out.”

“Only Dumbledore and I know, now, but Umbridge’s wording can’t be pure coincidence,” McGonagall scowled, “You have to lay low, do you understand? I’m so sorry – but if you don’t stay in the closet, there will be a lot of hell raining down on all of our heads –“

‘I figured. I wasn’t going to come out,” Neville sighed.

“Good. I tricked up the system to make sure you could be Prefect. Now, the rest of you – it’s important that you try and be as quiet as possible. I know this isn’t going to work out – I know already this. But I have to say it now. Umbridge is here to take over. That is her ultimate goal, and we have to fight against that in any way we can,” McGonagall explained, “But without getting thrown out in the process.”

“How will she take over?” Hermione asked sharply.

“Slowly, by undermining Professor Dumbledore’s authority. It is in all of your best interests to try and not agitate her more than you have to,” McGonagall looked at me and Harry very sternly until we nodded.

“It’s a lost cause, but hopefully by going in with that mindset you won’t do too much damage. Now, Neville and Maggie – your arrangement – I’ve created a room next to my office. You are allowed to stay there. Dumbledore is aware. You have to be discrete; you have to be quiet, and Neville you cannot slack on your duties as Prefect. You have to try and avoid notice by both… Mr. Weasley,” the vitriol in McGonagall’s tone was palpable, “And Umbridge. Do you understand?”

Neville and I nodded in unison.

“Good. Harry, Hermione, you have to help them. You all have to work together to make sure that certain things – Hermione’s intense knowledge of the power structures of Wizarding Law; Harry’s angry-toned PTSD; Maggie’s flashback-filled PTSD; and Neville’s gender identity – _remain hidden from Umbridge_. Any one of those things she will use to get you kicked out of Hogwarts – or she’ll try her hardest to do so,” McGonagall explained.

We all nodded again.

“Good. Hermione, we will resume lessons on Tuesday. Maggie, we should start our work tomorrow; with Umbridge acting like she is, I don’t want to waste any time. I’ll bring you two to your room; Harry, Hermione, get to the Common Room,” McGonagall ordered. We all departed her office and she led us to a small room, almost hidden – the door just looked like a broom closet.

“To get inside, the password – for now, I will change it – is _Draco prima_. It’ll change frequently, I’ll be sure to inform one of you at all times. You just say it to the door and it’ll open,” McGonagall explained.

“Alright,” Neville nodded.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“Of course,” McGonagall reassured, “I promised, didn’t I? Good night.” She left, and we entered the room. It was small – just a bed, fireplace, dressers, and a door that presumably led to a bathroom. I turned to Neville in worry, tears flowing from my eyes. He pulled me immediately into a long, tight hug, which I did not leave until I realized I was so tired that I would collapse then and there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaand tomorrow we get our first DADA lesson. Oh man. I'm tingling with excitement.   
> Please comment!! Thank you!!!


	55. Chapter Fifty - Four: September 2, 1995, Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "When I talk you should listen 
> 
> All of you belong to me 
> 
> Come on we should get it going 
> 
> Now what I want is specific 
> 
> Respect what I have done for thee 
> 
> The ruler and the killer baby 
> 
> You don't talk, you don't say nothing, OK?... 
> 
> Please pay attention 
> 
> You know all you belong to me 
> 
> Come on we should get it going 
> 
> Survival of the fittest, hey hey 
> 
> Lose and you will answer to me 
> 
> The ruler and the killer baby 
> 
> You don't talk, you don't say nothing, OK? 
> 
> To the ruler and the killer baby." 
> 
> ~ Kid Cudi, "The Ruler and the Killer."

Chapter 54: September 2nd, 1995, Hogwarts

I woke up very early that morning; I didn’t have the mental ability to go back to sleep. I got up and got dressed, grabbing my bow and arrows and walking out to the Grounds.

I wasn’t really going to hunt or shoot; I just wanted to go into the forest and find Herin before breakfast. The bow and arrows were so that no one would question my being out here. The grounds were extremely misty; a low fog was hanging over everything. I sighed and continued walking, heading out into the forest deftly. Upon entering the woods, I had to lean against a tree and take multiple, long, deep breaths – it was nerve-wracking to be out here, but at the least, it was a different forest.

_Just think of Neville. Just keep thinking of Neville._

It worked; soon, I was breathing easier, not being transported to some world that I wasn’t willing to be a part of. My heart felt fine; it was almost like being myself again. I swallowed happily and sprinted deeper into the forest, continuing to run until finally I felt safe enough to shift. Shifting – with no fear of being found – was glorious. I dove in and out between the trees, bobbing and weaving, until finally I stopped in the dead heart of the forest.

“ _HERIN_ ,” I shouted at the top of my lungs. Well, roared.

I waited a while; there wasn’t any sign. “HERIN!” I repeated, now floating up to a higher branch to shout it from her head level. Now I could hear thumps – she was walking towards me. I waited expectantly, until she emerged from the trees, staring at me expectantly.

“Hello,” I stated calmly.

“Hello,” she responded, “I hear that you almost did not return.”

“Erm… yes,” if I had been a mammal, I would have blushed.

“The Americans are… unhappy with who you turned out to be,” Herin was staring at me sternly.

“So was I,” I flicked my tail nervously.

“But you are here,” Herin stated.

“I got the help I needed,” I muttered.

“The Americans claimed that you were unable to be helped,” Herin growled.

“I found a way,” I paused, “A friend.”

“Which friend?” Herin demanded, “They insisted they had to give you drugs to even make you cooperate.”

“Erm… the really tall one? The kind of chubby one?” I asked softly.

“The one you are with almost as much as your brother,” Herin stated slowly.

“Yes,” I mumbled, embarrassed.

“He helped you? So you no longer are using the chemicals?” Herin asked.

“I am not. I still am sick, up here,” I motioned to my head with my claw, “But I am doing better. I can help now.”

“You left before you completed your training,” Herin glared slightly, “How much can you help?”

“I found my constant,” I muttered in annoyance, “What else was there?”

“Halflings have special abilities as humans,” Herin explained, “You are much more agile. They were to train you in Halfling martial arts.”

“Oh,” I paused, “Can you?”

“Do I look like a Halfling to you?” Herin snorted, “I cannot help. However, I believe one Halfling will make the trip over to finish your training, especially if I send word that you are indeed a viable asset.”

“Thanks,” I muttered darkly.

“They were convinced that we were doomed – one said it was like not having a Halfling here at all,” Herin snarled, “You were dead to them.”

“Yeah, well, I was dead to myself too,” I muttered, “Are we done with the berating? I got help.”

“Fine,” Herin fluttered her wings in irritation, “I do not like to dwell on past misdeeds. We have much work to do.”

“I’ve told some people. They all believe me,” I sighed.

“They do? That we need to work together?” Herin asked.

“Yes. I’ve told my friends – I know that isn’t much, but at least they’ll help – and I’ve told one of the professors at the school. Not the white-bearded man… the lady in green,” I explained calmly.

“The one who taught you to be a Halfling?” Herin questioned. I nodded.

“That is good. You _must_ tell the white-bearded man immediately. Can you?” Herin asked.

“I can try. It’s been hard for me to get a hold of him,” I admitted sheepishly.

“You must. You must _today_. The Halfling is going to come and she needs to stay in the forest – and he needs to know,” Herin shook her head, “You come back here regularly. I will keep you updated. But do not return until the white-bearded man knows. Then, I will send word.”

“Alright,” I nodded, “Alright. I will.”

“Good. You have to continue your training. Only the Halfling will come… she is an adult, and volunteered,” Herin paused, “Your trainers from the summer had to return to school.”

“They were all students? I didn’t realize,” I growled.

“Yes. They are all almost done with schooling, though, and will enter the Riders next year… At any rate, I believe continuing with a new person is still good. The old group did not sound very enthusiastic about you,” Herin sneered.

“No, they weren’t,” I sighed. The sun was getting higher in the sky; I had to go.

“Go. Keep up appearances. Come back when you have told him,” Herin nodded. I flew back towards the edge of the forest; I landed high in one of the trees, looking out over the Grounds. The fog was still thick; I had to peer carefully, though sharp vision seemed to be a shared trait between dragons and birds.

Sure enough, out on the Grounds, a woman dressed in pink was walking around, looking into the forest.

 _Umbridge must have seen me out here_. I immediately went on edge; my wings were rigid, my teeth were bared, my tail was high above my body. I growled very softly; there was no way she could hear me.

Umbridge continued to pace around the forest; she was waiting me out. I had an edge that she wasn’t aware of; she look at the sky or the treetops once. It was good to know my animagus form was still a secret, at the very least.

 _I’ve got to get out of here_. I glided right in front of Umbridge, but behind enough trees that she wouldn’t be able to tell. I landed on another tree from behind her; she was still pacing on the edge of the forest. I kept gliding far away until I reached the far end of the trees; I drifted down to the ground and shifted. I then ran, as fast as I could, into the castle; my quiver bounced loudly on my back but I was plenty far away from her by now, she wouldn’t hear. My heart was pounding in my chest and I could hear the blood pumping in my ears.

I reached the west courtyard entrance; I ran inside and closed the door behind me, panting heavily. I squeezed my eyes shut tightly, took a deep breath, and wandered up to my new room. No one seemed to be awake, still. I looked at my watch – it was only seven in the morning. I ran up to the room and hastily whispered, “ _Draco prima_ ,” before getting inside and closing the door behind me.

“Where the hell did you go?” Neville asked angrily behind me. I turned around to see he was only half-dressed (pants, no shirt), looking at me in a panic. He seemed to be getting dressed in a hurry – I must have worried him.

“I’m sorry,” I sighed, “I went out to see Herin.”

“And?” Neville asked, quickly putting on his polo shirt, blushing somewhat.

“She wants me to tell Dumbledore immediately,” I sighed, “When I do, another Halfling is going to fly over to continue my training. I have to learn dragon martial arts – I mean I’ve noticed this but my physical abilities as a human are still pretty… superhuman,” I muttered.

“Alright, why do you have the bow?” Neville asked, “How did you deal with the forest?”

“It took some getting used to, but since nothing particularly terrible has happened to me in that forest – well, nothing that gave me PTSD – it didn’t take me long. You’ve really helped me recover, Nev,” I mumbled softly. Neville’s face flushed more.

“Erm – the bow?”

“In case someone asked me why I was out there I wanted a plausible excuse. Any of the old professors wouldn’t have given a crap,” I frowned.

“But…?” Neville looked at me nervously.

“I had the sense to fly most of the way back – checked to make sure no one was on the Grounds outside the forest. Well… Umbridge was,” I hissed angrily.

“Oh no,” Neville groaned, “Do you think she saw you enter the forest?”

“Probably – why else would she be out there? At any rate, I flew around her to the other edge of the woods and ran back up here. I don’t think she saw me,” I shook my head, “At any rate, it would have been an amazing feat of speed for her to reach where I flew to by the time I ran out onto the Grounds; if she saw me after that, she can’t prove I was in the forest.”

“Good,” Neville sighed, “You’re going to have to be careful – if she catches you –“

“I know,” I grumbled, “I’ll have to go out at a different time… when it’s more busy out on the Grounds, and she’ll have less of a reason to question my being out there.”

“Yeah, that would work,” Neville paused, “We should go down to breakfast.”

“I want to try and catch Dumbledore, first; breakfast hasn’t technically started yet, he might still be in his office,” I muttered.

“Alright… let me leave and make sure the coast is clear. I’m a Prefect… should count for _something_ ,” Neville muttered irritably. He left the room quietly, and I waited for him to let me know the coast was clear – when he knocked, I quietly slipped out of the room.

“Come on, let’s go,” Neville muttered. We walked together though the corridors, up towards Dumbledore’s office.

“Do you know the password?” I asked him hopefully.

“I’m a Prefect, not the bloody Queen – I’ll try knocking,” Neville groaned, “It’s too early for this.”

Neville knocked on the door, but no sound came out – I groaned in annoyance, nervously shifting the strap of my shoulder bag. Neville ran a hand nervously through his hair.

“ _Hem hem_.”

We both turned around in nervousness to see Umbridge standing before us, her hands folded neatly over her abdomen, a small smile on her face.

“May I ask why you both wish to see the Headmaster?”

“Er…” Neville stammered.

“Just wanted to ask him a question,” I lied smoothly.

“Surely you could ask a professor your question?” Umbridge asked in a much-too-sweet voice.

“This is specifically for Dumbledore,” I repeated calmly.

“How do you have a close enough relationship with the Headmaster to have a question that could only be answered by him?” Umbridge simpered.

“It’s been a long four years,” Neville responded, his lips drawn into a thin line.

“It would serve the both of you well to… limit the situations in which you need to privately see the Headmaster in the future,” Umbridge’s smile didn’t seem to match her words now, “Now, you both should go down to breakfast, yes?”

We nodded; Neville put his hand on my back and hurried me away from the office. We both walked quickly down to the Great Hall, looking at each other in terror. We sat down quickly, me nervously shifting in my seat and looking around everywhere.

“How’d it go last night, guys?” Hermione asked, walking up and sitting across from us. Harry joined her, looking at us expectantly.

I shook my head wordlessly, looking around nervously for Umbridge. When I saw that she had taken her seat up at the front table, I turned and leaned in close to them, Neville following suit.

“It’s been a nerve-wracking few hours,” I muttered, describing the situation in the Forest, my need to speak to Dumbledore, and Umbridge ambushing us outside of his office.

“This is worse than I thought,” Hermione whispered, her face white.

“What do we do?” Harry muttered angrily.

“We have to do everything as secretly as possible. She’s already after us and classes haven’t even begun – she’s watching our moves like a hawk,” I muttered, “I have to figure out a way to see Dumbledore soon.”

“How are you going to do that?” Neville frowned worriedly.

“Efficiently. Meet with McGonagall tonight, ask her for the password,” I shook my head.

“Or, corner him after breakfast,” Harry nodded at the front table. Dumbledore was eating and chatting pleasantly with McGonagall. I frowned, pursing my lips, as McGonagall got up and walked over to our table.

“Course schedules,” Hermione whispered, “Look normal.”

I looked up and smiled at McGonagall as she came towards us; she gave me a look that clearly indicated she knew something was up as she handed me my schedule. History of Magic, Potions, lunch, Ancient Runes, Defense on Monday; Charms, Transfiguration, Lunch, Care of Magical Creatures, Herbology on Tuesday, Arithmancy, Transfiguration, Lunch, Herbology Care of Magical Creatures, Astronomy on Wednesday; History of Magic, Potions, lunch, Ancient Runes, then Astronomy late on Thursday; Defense, lunch, Arithmancy, Charms on Friday.

“Every class has two sections and one is a double!” Harry groaned loudly, “What the hell?”

“It’s O.W.L. year,” Hermione answered simply.

“We’re going to die,” I groaned loudly.

“We’re not going to die,” Neville muttered, though he didn’t look convinced by his own words.

“So what happened to you lot?” I asked sullenly, already dreading the amount of charms I would have every week.

“Er…” Hermione flushed nervously.

“Let’s just say your absence from the dormitories was noticed, and in your case Maggie, celebrated,” Harry grumbled.

“Oh no,” I whispered.

“Yeah… I excused Neville as doing Prefect stuff… but…” Harry frowned.

“Siobhan believes the Daily Prophet. She’s been saying you have to sleep somewhere else because you’re dangerously violent,” Hermione muttered, “Lavender doesn’t go quite that far, but she believes the stuff about Harry.”

“So does Seamus,” Harry muttered irritably.

“Bloody hell,” Neville groaned, “Should I be in the dormitory to stop him from being a prat?”

“No, I can do that on my own,” Harry rolled his eyes.

“And I threatened Siobhan with detention if she didn’t keep her mouth shut about you,” Hermione continued proudly.

“Thanks mate,” I smiled weakly. Dumbledore was getting up from the front table; Umbridge was still eating her breakfast.

“I’m going to sneak out. Don’t follow me; don’t want to draw attention,” I hissed. They all nodded and I quickly got up amongst a sea of second years who, thankfully, knew not to be afraid of me. The first years flinched whenever I came near. I followed the second years quietly and then sprinted up the steps, running after Dumbledore.

“Professor Dumbledore!” I gasped, “Wait!”

He turned around and looked at me curiously.

“Can I talk to you?” I breathed, looking around nervously.

“Alone?” I added in a whisper.

“Don’t you have a lesson soon, Miss Johnson?” Dumbledore asked, a trace of teasing in his voice.

“It can’t wait,” I muttered quietly. Dumbledore nodded, and I followed him up to his office quickly, eagerly sitting in a chair.

“So, what is so urgent and secretive that you needed to tell me now, in my office, Miss Johnson?” Dumbledore asked. I swallowed heavily.

“I am sure Professor McGonagall has told you about my animagus form.”

“Yes, she has,” Dumbledore peered at me over the tops of his spectacles, his eyes twinkling madly.

“Has she told you about… what I told her when she came over the summer?” I muttered quietly.

“She said that you had something to tell me, but she seemed to think it would be best if it came from you,” Dumbledore acknowledged.

“Right, well… when I first shifted, I talked to this dragon that lives in the forest. Herin,” I sighed, and then launched into my story bout the dragons, Voldemort, and America. When I was done, Dumbledore was looking at me, clearly thinking hard.

“I cannot say that this is entirely news. While the United States does not advertise its Dragon Riding program and initiatives, it is not hard to figure out from context clues. And dragons would make powerful allies, this is true… However, it would take a lot of work to accomplish, and put you into danger if the Ministry ever got wind,” Dumbledore frowned, “Danger I cannot justify.”

“It’s not entirely up to you whether or not I do this, though,” I responded angrily, “This needs to happen. You’ll be ensuring my safety if you _help_ me.”

“You do realize that Professor Umbridge isn’t only here to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts?” Dumbledore asked quietly.

“Yes,” I shrugged, “I’m telling you, I don’t seem to have much of a choice. I tried to get out of it over the summer and they _found_ me.”

“Alright,” Dumbledore paused, “When is the next time you have a break during a class time in your schedule?”

“Thursday,” I muttered softly.

“That seems a bit far away from what your friend Herin would wish. Tomorrow we will go out during one of the universal breaks and enter the forest together. If you’re with me, you cannot get into trouble,” Dumbledore paused, “Do not go into the forest before then.”

“Oh trust me, I won’t,” I sighed.

“Good,” Dumbledore nodded, “Now, you should get to your lesson. I doubt Professor Binns will notice your absence, however, if you were to be caught in the hallway…”

I nodded in response and hurried out of there, walking through the hallways. Class hadn’t started yet, thankfully, and I managed walk into Binns’ room quickly, taking my seat next to Hermione.

“How’d it go?” she hissed quietly.

“We’re giving Herin the okay tomorrow,” I muttered in response.

“Oh good,” she sighed.

“Anything happen in my absence?” I hissed. She shook her head.

“We left with the crowd and Umbridge didn’t try to find us. I don’t even know if she noticed your absence, but I wouldn’t be surprised if she had,” Hermione muttered, “You have to be more careful, Mags.”

I nodded sadly, looking over at Harry furtively. Professor Binns was starting lecture, and Hermione was taking notes.

“You know who _doesn’t_ have a nickname in the Potter Squad?” I hissed.

“Potter Squad is better than Team Potter?” Hermione asked, looking at me in bemusement.

“Er… no it’s not, never mind, scratch that one,” I frowned, “But come on – Mags, Nev, Mione – Harry doesn’t have a name!”

“No,” Hermione frowned for a minute before looking at me mischievously, “That seems like something we should rectify, doesn’t it?”

I grinned eagerly, “It does.”

“Sadly, we can’t use the same method we have for the three of us. All of our nicknames are shortened versions of our names… Harry’s options are just ‘Har’ and ‘Ry’ and, well…” Hermione frowned again.

“Har would be friggen hilarious thought,” I giggled. Hermione flicked me in the arm, clearly as a method of saying _pay attention_. I sighed and lazily doodled on my parchment instead. Today we had three-quarters of an hour of giant wars as the topic of conversation. If it hadn’t been taught by Binns, maybe I would have actually been interested… sadly, this was not the case. Class ended and we all walked out, heading towards potions.

“Last first potions class ever… last first potions class ever…” Neville kept muttering under his breath.

“That is a song of hopefulness,” I chuckled softly.

“Well it is,” Neville smiled serenely, “The best potions class of my life, of course, will be the very last one – but this comes close.”

We reached the dungeons and sat inside, Harry and I taking our table and Neville and Hermione taking theirs. I sighed, waiting silently, until Snape slowly walked into the room.

“Before we begin today’s lesson,” Snape began slowly, “I think it appropriate to remind you that next June you will be sitting an important examination, during which you will prove how much you have learned about the composition and use of magical potions. Moronic though some of this class undoubtedly are, I expect you to scrape an ‘Acceptable’ in your O.W.L., or suffer my… displeasure.”

Snape looked briefly at Neville, but I growled softly under my breath. Snape quickly looked away.

“After this year, of course, many of you will cease studying with me. I take only the very best into my N.E.W.T. Potions class, which means that some of us will certainly be saying goodbye,” Snape sneered at Harry, and I rolled my eyes. Frankly, his routine was old.

“But we have another year to go before that happy moment of farewell, so whether you are intending to attempt N.E.W.T. or not, I advise all of you to concentrate your efforts upon maintaining the high-pass level I have come to expect from my O.W.L. students. Today we will be mixing a potion that often comes up at Ordinary Wizarding Level: the Draught of Peace, a potion to calm anxiety and soothe agitation. Be warned: if you are too heavy-handed with the ingredients you will put the drinker into a heavy and sometimes irreversible sleep, so you will need to pay close attention to what you are doing. The ingredients and method,” Snape flicked his wand, “Are on the blackboard. You will find everything you need in the store cupboard. You have an hour and a half… start.”

I sighed and got started on the potion, mixing it slowly and following every line. Neville nearby was sweating profusely, and appeared to already be making mistakes – Hermione was hissing in his ear.

“I hate this class,” Harry muttered angrily.

“Yeah, well, life sucks. If this was organic chem I bet I’d be better,” I mumbled in annoyance, “Like what the fuck is in hellebore to make this work – I don’t even – ergh.”

“Your dad is an apothecary, how the hell aren’t you better at this nonsense?” Harry snorted, adding syrup of hellebore to his potion.

“You know, this is a very good question,” I paused in amusement.

“Your father merely sells potions ingredients,” I looked up to see Snape standing over me, “He does not utilize them.”

“He does stuff all the time – we don’t buy any of our potions,” I muttered in anger.

Snape sneered slightly in disbelief before announcing to the class, “A light silver vapor should now be rising from your potion.”

I breathed a sigh of relief – Harry and I were both in the clear. Neville’s potion, however, was spitting green sparks.

“Tell me, Longbottom, what is this supposed to be?” Snape sneered.

“Th-the Draught of Peace,” Neville mumbled. It was so terrible to witness – whenever Snape talked to him, it was as though he had been transported back four years.

“Tell me, Longbottom, can you _read?_ ” Snape asked softly. Malfoy laughed in a corner; a handful of ingredients crumbled in my tense hand.

“Yes,” Neville muttered.

“Read the third line of the instructions for me, Longbottom.”

“A-Add powdered moonstone, stir three times counterclockwise, allow to simmer for seven minutes, then add two d-drops of syrup of hellebore.” Neville looked positively ill.

“Did you do everything on the third line, Longbottom?”

“No,” he mumbled so quietly I could barely hear him.

“ _Enunciate_ , Longbottom – unless you do not know the meaning of that word –“ Malfoy roared with laughter.

“I know what it means,” Neville muttered angrily.

“Five points from Gryffindor for cheek, Mr. Longbottom. _Did you do everything on the third line?_ ”

“I forgot the bloody moonstone,” Neville snapped, “Because I couldn’t _read the instructions_ in your bloody, steam-filled classroom! Why not write something on a piece of parchment for a change? How is anyone supposed to be able to see that?”

The entire classroom went completely silent. Harry and Hermione’s mouths dropped open in shock. Ron dropped a handful of leeks into his cauldron, causing it to explode into his face, but Snape didn’t make any motion to help him in his current state of being on _fire_. My face, however, had grown into a large grin.

“Detention, Longbottom. And twenty more points from Gryffindor for your insubordination,” Snape hissed.

“Why don’t you write it down, though?” I muttered, “I can barely see it either.”

Snape slowly turned to look at me, his face torn between the fact that he owed my mother, and the fact that I was undermining his authority in the classroom.

“You know what’s really surprising?” Neville continued, his hands balled into fists at his side, “I do research for Professor Sprout, and you know – when I don’t have you _breathing down my neck_ – and I have the instructions on a piece of paper, right in front of me – I never get it wrong.”

Snape looked absolutely furious now, and made a motion with his had – almost imperceptible – as though to grab hold of Neville’s neck.

“A week’s detentions!” he finally snapped, “I would hold your tongue from now on in my class, idiot boy.”

“How many other students in this class are conducting research?” I muttered angrily, “Sounds like he’s far from an idiot.”

Snape looked at me furiously, his hands trembling at his sides.

“Detention for you, as well, Johnson,” he finally got out. Ron had been put off sometime during this exchange by Seamus, who was fairly well-versed in eliminating fires – but now he was shocked that Snape had given _me_ detention, and had dropped something else into his cauldron, setting more of his hair on fire. Snape couldn’t ignore it any longer and waved his wand, but everyone looked at the proceedings in shock. It was well known by now that I was the one Gryffindor he never gave detention to.

“Longbottom, this slop is utterly worthless. _Evanesco_.”

The contents of Neville’s cauldron vanished; he looked absolutely seething with rage, his hands still tightly balled into fists.

“Those of you who _have_ managed to read the instructions, fill one flagon with a sample of your potion, label it clearly with your name, and bring it up to my desk for testing. Homework: twelve inches of parchment on the properties of moonstone and its uses in potion-making, to be handed in on Thursday,” Snape dismissed.

I handed in my potion, glaring at him angrily, and following Neville out of the classroom.

“I am _done_ ,” he stated immediately, before Hermione could reprimand him, “I am not going to take any more of his _shit_. I am not an idiot. I am not a moron. I do not deserve to be treated the way he treats me – Goyle’s potion was much worse than mine! Ron’s was practically on fire already! And fuck it, whenever I have to do shit for Sprout, I do it perfectly. I have conducted _one hundred and sixty-three **perfect extractions**_ of the curse-blocker protein from my plants, but do we ever fucking hear about it? No!” Neville shouted as we sat down at the Gryffindor table, “But the media paints me as some sort of moron, and Snape has spent my entire education fucking helping them! Where was I this time last month? Tracking Maggie down _in the middle of London, **without magic**_ **.** I defeated the Devil’s Snare when I was eleven – I fought a fucking basilisk when I was twelve – I faced a serial killer when I was thirteen – and I am _done letting him bully me!_ ”

Hermione was rendered speechless.

“Good for you, Neville,” I praised, beaming proudly at him.

“Well it’s all thanks to you, Mags,” Neville stated calmly, his breath slowing back down, “If it weren’t for you believing in me since – I dunno, the first minute of bloody first year – I might have just cowered in a corner during that lesson. Fuck, if it wasn’t for you believing in me, I probably wouldn’t even _be_ Harry’s friend.”

“Oh man, that would have been bullocks,” Harry frowned, “Maggie _did_ push me into being your friend first year – I’m glad she did, mate –“

“Who else would make sure you didn’t blow a gasket every second?” Neville smirked.

“No one – who would I even have been friends with?” Harry frowned.

We all slowly looked over at Ron, who looked extra funny without any eyebrows. His mouth was full of food, and he looked at us looking at him in surprise.

“Wha?” he managed to say through the food.

Hermione’s eyes grew wide and she just slowly shook her head in bemusement.

“Speaking of friendship, Hermione put the kibosh on Potter Squad,” I informed Neville sadly.

“Dammit,” he groaned, pulling out a pad of paper and crossing off a line on list.

“Wait, you have a bloody list?” Harry demanded.

“Came up with a bunch of alternatives last night while we tried to fall asleep,” I explained.

“So that’s what you two do in bed,” Hermione murmured very quietly into her soup. I splurted out the pumpkin juice I was drinking in shock.

“Oi!” Neville shouted, hitting her lightly upside the head. She giggled loudly.

“At any rate, Neville, as wonderful as it is to see you sticking up for yourself, you are a _Prefect_ ,” she hissed quietly, “You need to stay out of trouble!”

“I don’t really care,” Neville snapped, “I didn’t _ask_ for this.”

“For Snape to torture you, or…?” Harry asked.

“To be a bloody Prefect!” Neville shouted, “I don’t want it, I meant it when I fucking got it – I can’t with this, I’m going to the Greenhouses, I have the next class off, I’ll see you lot in Defense.” He got up and stomped out of the room; you could practically see steam coming out of his ears.

“He really has snapped,” Hermione commented lightly.

“Shouldn’t someone go after him?” Harry sighed.

“I would, but I’m trying to not draw attention to myself,” I muttered, looking up at the front table in worry. Umbridge seemed to be staring at me, but that couldn’t be right. It had to have been someone else.

Hermione and I slowly made our way out to Ancient Runes together, her looking to be deep in thought. Sam caught up with us, looking at us in confusion at our sullen expressions.

“Neville finally snapped in potions,” I sighed.

“Well it’s about bloody time,” Sam snorted. Hermione sighed heavily.

“He really seems to be on edge – I think taking care of the three of us all the time is finally getting to him,” Hermione muttered.

“Between my flashbacks, Harry’s anger issues, and your anxiety, we are a couple of crazy people,” I acknowledged.

“It’s never been this bad before. Neville’s always been the listener, for the three of us, but the three of us have never all had problems at once before…” Hermione frowned, “I don’t think it’s fair to keep piling this on him.”

“No it’s not,” I agreed, “We should try and be more understanding.”

“Yeah,” Hermione nodded.

Professor Babbling had come out then; she looked as friendly as ever, though somewhat serious. Sam was sitting back in his chair, sitting alone as per usual; he looked annoyed at having to be here.

“Welcome to your third year of Ancient Runes! This year we will finish our studies of the major Wizarding Rune languages. Now, for those of you who choose to continue on to the N.E.W.T. level, know that we will be examining more obscure texts in our final two years of study; it will become much more difficult, and much more esoteric as we continue. However, first, we must continue with our foundations. Now, I hold my O.W.L. students to very high standards indeed – I have never, not once, had a failing grade in my class. Do not be the first year to let me down,” she smiled at all of us.

I did love her class; I was happy enough to comply with her wish. I spent the rest of the day learning the Arabic alphabet; Sam and Hermione actually switched seats, as she already knew it; she spent the whole class laughing at us as we struggled.

“Would you stop being such an overachiever,” Sam muttered in annoyance.

“No,” she practically sang.

“Let her have this, she has to deal with so much slack for her heritage,” I rolled my eyes.

“Yes, not making fun of me for knowing the alphabet of my ancestors totally makes up for years of racism and anti-Semitism,” Hermione snorted.

“As a representative of white people, you’re welcome,” I laughed.

“You’re not even white!” Hermione threw a quill at me and I laughed harder.

“She’s more white than either of us,” Sam pointed out.

“Good point,” I frowned, “I forget that.”

“You’re proud of being Scottish!”

“Stop it with your words of logic,” I snorted at Hermione, who threw another quill at me.

The rest of the class passed without incident; it actually managed to put me in a halfway decent mood, though I knew Defense was coming up. Unfortunately, we were given the assignment of copying down Arabic letters onto a foot of parchment.

“This is on top of Binns’ foot and a half long essay on giant wars, and Snape’s foot long essay on moonstones – bloody hell!” I shouted in amazement.

“Wait, Binns assigns a foot and a half?” Sam groaned loudly, “Oh no.”

“And Snape a foot,” I repeated.

“Oh _no_ ,” Sam groaned again.

“What have you had? What do we get in other classes?” Hermione asked worriedly.

“Oh Merlin – well the Umbridge woman is a piece of work,” Sam sighed, “I wanted to rip her throat out.”

“Oh _no_ ,” Hermione groaned.

“We’re headed there now,” I moaned.

“You spend the whole time reading the first chapter of the textbook – there’s no use of magic, mind – and then we have to read chapter two next class. No homework though,” Sam offered with a grimace.

“No _magic?!_ ” Hermione and I gasped in unison.

“Er… yeah,” Sam frowned. We were almost at the classroom; Sam looked at us in worry. We must have looked absolutely furious.

“I have Herbology now, with the Slytherins… Erm… you lot going to be okay?” he asked worriedly.

“Yes,” I snapped peevishly, “See you in Charms tomorrow.”

“Yeah…” Sam didn’t look convinced as Hermione and I went inside the Defense classroom and sat down. Neville was already in the seat we usually shared, fiddling with the pages of his book.

“Sorry for freaking out earlier,” he muttered quietly.

“It’s okay. I have a feeling someone is about to freak out themselves in this class,” I hissed.

“What do you –“

Harry had walked in and sat next to Hermione; she was still looking furious and class hadn’t even started yet. We only had Defense with the other Gryffindors in our year; Professor Umbridge walked in and sat at her teacher’s desk, still wearing her fluffy pink cardigan. She looked like a large, fluffy toad.

“Well, good afternoon!” she simpered when we were all inside.

“Good afternoon,” Neville muttered, but few people joined him.

“Tut, tut,” Professor Umbridge sighed, “ _That_ won’t do, now will it? I should like you, please, to reply ‘Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge.’ One more time, please. Good afternoon, class!”

“Good afternoon, Professor Umbridge,” we all stated dully in unison.

“There now, that wasn’t too difficult, was it? Wands away and quills out, please.”

I had known this was coming; still, I was not happy about it as I set the book on my desk. Umbridge had taken out her own short wand and waved it at the blackboard; words appeared there that said _Defense Against the Dark Arts: A Return to Basic Principles._

“Well now, your teaching in this subject has been rather disrupted and fragmented, hasn’t it?” Umbridge began, “The constant changing of teachers, many of whom do not seem to have followed any Ministry-approved curriculum, has unfortunately resulted in your being far below the standard we would expect to see in your O.W.L. year. You will be pleased to know, however, that these problems are now to be rectified. We will be following a carefully structured, theory-centered, Ministry-approved course of defensive magic this year. Copy down the following, please.”

Words once again appeared on the blackboard: _Course aims: 1. Understanding the principles underlying defensive magic 2. Learning to recognize situations in which defensive magic can legally be used 3. Placing the use of defensive magic in a context for practical use_.

I copied it down in shorthand; soon she ordered us to read the textbook, and so I grabbed it silently, already feeling like I was going to want to kill myself for being in this class.

However, the entire class looked on in shock as Hermione raised her hand into the air, her textbook not even opened.

Between Neville’s outburst in Potions and this, it was a banner day for the Gryffindor fifth-years. Everyone stared at Hermione in shock, and then at Umbridge, waiting expectantly for her to answer Hermione’s question.

“Did you want to ask something about the chapter, dear?” Umbridge finally had to acknowledge when half the class was staring at Hermione, and not at the book.

“Not about the chapter, no,” Hermione sighed.

“Well, we’re reading just now,” Umbridge smiled much too sweetly, “If you have other queries we can deal with them at the end of class.”

“I’ve got a query about your course aims,” Hermione said softly.

“And your name is -?”

“Hermione Granger,” Hermione responded calmly.

Umbridge’s smile grew wider, “Well, Miss Granger, I think the course aims are perfectly clear if you read them through carefully.”

“Well, I don’t,” Hermione responded bluntly, “There’s nothing written up there about _using_ defensive spells.”

“ _Using_ defensive spells? Why, I can’t imagine any situation arising in my classroom that would require you to _use_ a defensive spell, Miss Granger. You surely aren’t expecting to be attacked during class?” Umbridge simpered.

“We’re not going to actually practice?” Neville demanded.

“Students raise their hands when they wish to speak in my class, Mr. –?”

“Longbottom,” Neville responded irritably, raising his arm into the air almost sarcastically.

Umbridge smiled wider and turned away from him. Harry and Hermione both thrusted their own arms into the air; I didn’t know whether or not to do the same myself, so I just sat on my hands.

“Yes, Miss Granger? You wanted to ask something else?”

“Yes,” Hermione sighed, “Surely the whole point of Defense Against the Dark Arts is to practice defensive spells?”

“Are you a Ministry-trained educational expert, Miss Granger?” Umbridge asked sweetly.

“No, but –“

“Well then, I’m afraid you are not qualified to decide what the ‘whole point’ of any class is. Wizards much older and cleverer than you have devised our new program of study. You will be learning about defensive spells in a secure, risk-free way –“

“What use is that?” Harry asked loudly, “If we’re going to be attacked it won’t be in a –“

“ _Hand,_ Mr. Potter!” Umbridge sang.

Everyone looked at, not Harry, but me in shock – usually it was me who had angry outbursts, but all three of my friends had done so today before me. My spat with Snape didn’t count as an angry outburst; we slung wit at each other like that every class.

Harry thrust his hand in the air, but now everyone else was raising their hands. I was mad, but as was so often the case since I had developed PTSD, I couldn’t get as red-hot angry as I used to.

“And your name is?” Umbridge asked Dean, who had raised his hand.

“Dean Thomas.” Dean and Seamus had been holding hands before, but now they weren’t; Seamus looked positively peeved that Dean was talking in class, on the side of Harry.

“Well, Mr. Thomas?”

“Well, it’s like Harry said, isn’t it?” Dean said, “If we’re going to be attacked, it won’t be risk-free –“

“I repeat, do you expect to be attacked during my classes?” Umbridge was still smiling. The old me would have wanted to rip it off of her face – frankly, the new me did too.

“No, but –“

“I do not wish to criticize the way things have been run in this school, but you have been exposed to some very irresponsible wizards in this class, very irresponsible indeed – not to mention,” Umbridge laughed nastily, “extremely dangerous half-breeds.”

My quill pen snapped in half in my hands; Neville looked at me in amusement. Hermione did too. It was almost as if they were _encouraging_ me.

“if you mean Professor Lupin,” Dean responded angrily, “he was the best we ever –“

“ _Hand_ , Mr. Thomas! And I would remind you that it is not proper to keep it in the hand of another man’s!” Umbridge screamed.

My mouth dropped open in shock; so did everyone else’s. Every Gryffindor had responded to their couplehood with cheers last year; not a single person was against them, at least in-House.

“That was homophobic!” Seamus couldn’t stop himself from shouting, all the color drained from his face.

“I’m afraid I do not know what that nonsense means – as I was saying, you have been introduced to spells that have been complex, inappropriate to your age group, and potentially lethal. You have been frightened into believing that you are likely to meet Dark attacks every other day –“

“No we haven’t!” Hermione protested, “We just –“

“ _Your hand is not up, Miss Granger!”_

Hermione put up her hand, Umbridge ignored her. My fingers were beginning to shake; I had to force myself to count to ten.

“It is my understanding that my predecessor not only performed illegal curses in front of you, he actually performed them _on_ you –“

“Well he turned out to be a Death Eater in disguise!” Neville shouted, “We learned loads from him, though, doesn’t matter –“

“ _Your hand is not up, Mr. Longbottom!_ ” Umbridge sang, “Now, it is the view of the Ministry that a theoretical knowledge will be more than sufficient to get you through your examination, which, after all, is what school is all about. And your name is?” she added, looking intently at Parvati, who had just raised her hand.

“Parvati Patil, and isn’t there a practical bit in our Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L.? Aren’t we supposed to show that we can actually do the coutnercurses and things?”

“As long as you have studied the theory hard enough, there is no reason why you should not be able to perform the spells under carefully controlled examination conditions,” Umbridge responded dismissively.

“Without ever practicing them before?” Parvati asked incredulously, “Are you telling us that the first time we’ll get to do the spells will be during our exam?”

“I repeat, as long as you have studied the theory hard enough –“

“And what good’s theory going to be in the real world?” Harry demanded angrily.

“This is school, Mr. Potter, not the real world,” Umbridge said softly.

I couldn’t help it; I snorted very loudly.

“Something funny, Miss Johnson?” Umbridge asked sweetly.

I looked at her for a long time; I was carefully constructing my response.

“Just, you know, if this wasn’t the real world in here, I really am surprised, since it has felt like it,” I said calmly, “I mean, you know, I’ve nearly died, what – three, four times? Probably more? And I mean, it’s really comforting to know that this wasn’t the real world, cause then I wouldn’t _really_ die, would I? I’d get to come back and everything. Good to know, thanks,” I nodded, fake-smiling up a storm.

Umbridge looked at me in fury; I seemed to have touched a nerve.

“I do not know what circumstances you have gotten into that have made you think you were going to _die_ , Miss Johnson, but I can assure you –“

“It’s simple. There was Lord Voldemort trying to get his body back first year – oh, and then that giant snake sitting in the basement second year – and then my favorite, a serial killer who wasn’t incarcerated third year – and then last year, you should remember this, it wasn’t too long ago, I was in the middle of a giant forest, where a fellow student was put under the Imperius Curse and then killed another member of the task,” I frowned, “You know, yeah he used Unforgiveable Curses in front of us, but if he hadn’t done that I wouldn’t have known what the Imperius Curse even was, and then Angelina might be in Azkaban right now, and lord knows, she didn’t do anything wrong.”

The class was stunned into silence. Neville was grinning at me.

Umbridge was staring at me furiously, “Those first three situations were those that you should have left to the proper authorities – and it was your own fault for getting into them. Last year’s tragedy, sadly, was just that – an abnormal event that could not have been predicted.”

“The warning signs were everywhere!” Harry shouted.

“The entire year was completely mad from the start,” I agreed, still surprisingly calm, “People were disappearing all over the place – if there was ever a point at which to think, hey, we should cancel this deadly tournament we started, it was then!”

“There were no warning signs –“

“Yeah there were! Loads of them!” Harry shouted.

“Who could have been giving warning signs for such a thing, Mr. Potter?”

“Hmm, let’s thing,” Harry stated sarcastically, “Maybe… _Lord Voldemort?_ ”

Lavender Brown gave a little scream; Siobhan fell off of her stool; Seamus gasped loudly.

“Twenty points from Gryffindor, Mr. Potter, Miss Johnson,” Umbridge said, her smile growing quite evil.

“Now, let’s make a few things quite plain. You have been told that a certain Dark Wizard has returned from the dead –“

“He wasn’t bloody dead, are you mad?” Harry said, “But yeah, he’s returned!”

“Mr. Potter, do not make matters worse for your self!” Umbridge said one breath, “As I was saying, you have been informed that a certain Dark wizard is at large once again. _This is a lie_.”

“It is NOT a lie! I saw him, I fought him!” Harry roared.

“Detention, Mr. Potter!” Umbridge stated, “Tomorrow evening. Five o’clock. My office. I repeat, _this is a li_. The Ministry of Magic guarantees that you are not in danger from any Dark wizard. If you are still worried, by all means –“

“Look, let’s just say that Voldy-pants isn’t back – which he totally is, by the way,” I interjected angrily, “Remember that serial killer on the lose two years ago? You never caught him. What you just said was a complete lie.”

Everyone fell silent. Neville looked like he was about to clap.

“Miss Johnson –“

“And you know what, this is irresponsible governing. Frankly,” I felt anger rise in my chest, “Even if Harry _was_ lying – even if Dumbledore _was_ wrong – it is in the best interests of the public to prepare for any sort of disaster! You don’t tell people living in California to just _hope that earthquakes won’t happen_. You don’t tell people living in the tropics not to be ready for hurricanes! Wishful thinking doesn’t make bad things go away! Hoping that the tragedy in Rwanda wasn’t happening didn’t magically make a genocide disappear! But you know what, preparing for those things – even needlessly – can save lives! Preparing for Voldy-pants’ return might seem superfluous, but at the very least, you’d be prepared if it happened, or if another Dark Wizard rose up, or what have you!”

“Detention for you, as well! Come by my office tomorrow at ten o’clock,” Umbridge stated calmly. I was standing up with anger; my hands were balled into fists.

“Do you completely deny that bad people exist?” I asked calmly.

“I do not deny this,” Umbridge responded, “The Ministry has measures in place to deal with –“

“Clearly not good enough ones, or else Voldemort never would have happened in the first place!” I shouted.

“And if Voldemort isn’t back, according to you, Effi Rosenthal dropped dead of her own accord, did she?” Harry stood up too, looking at me out of the corner of his eye.

Everyone looked at Harry in shock; he hadn’t described the event to anyone apart from the three of us.

“Effi Rosenthal’s death was a tragic accident,” Umbridge responded coldly.

“It was murder,” Harry responded through gritted teeth, “Voldemort killed her, and you know it.”

“Also,” Neville stood up too, “Homophobia, Professor Umbridge, is hatred of people who are gay. Now, I don’t know Seamus or Dean’s orientation, but it’s a good catch-all term for disliking people in same-gender relationships. It’s bigoted, it’s backwards, and it’s reflective of a very ignorant point of view.”

“And Professor Lupin was the best professor we ever had for this class, and his ability to teach us had nothing to do with whatever conditions he may have had,” Hermione also stood up, her eyes narrowed angrily, “We learned more that year than the other three years put together.”

Umbridge looked at the four of us for a long moment, but then whispered, “Mr. Longbottom, Miss Granger, you both have detentions as well. I will see you, Mr. Longbottom, on Wednesday at ten o’clock. Miss Granger, I will see you Wednesday at five.”

“We have astronomy,” Hermione answered surprisingly calmly, as she hadn’t received a detention since first year.

“Then I will see you both the next time you do not have astronomy,” Umbridge corrected.

“Friday,” Neville muttered angrily.

“Mr. Potter, please come here, dear,” Umbridge simpered. Harry walked up to her desk as Umbridge pulled out a roll of pink parchment and started scribbling on it; after a minute, she rolled it up and tapped on it with her wand, so that it sealed itself.

“Take this to Professor McGonagall, dear,” Umbridge ordered.

Harry left without another word, slamming the door to the classroom behind him.

“Now, if you all could please open your books and continue reading –“ Umbridge began.

“This is insane,” I hissed softly.

“You should hold your tongue in my class, Miss Johnson, if you wish to –“

“Freedom of speech!” I shouted, “Is a thing! It is a thing!”

“Not in my classroom!”

“What other rights will you be taking away from us, then? I just want to make a note in my calendar!” Neville laughed sarcastically.

“Now, Mr. Longbottom –“

“Oh I wouldn’t hold tightly to too many of your rights, Neville, since she doesn’t apparently believe in the personhood of Remus Lupin!” Hermione laughed shrilly. We were all still standing.

“Now, in all my hears, I have never known any witches or any wizard to behave –“

“I AM NOT A WIZARD!” Neville shouted before he could stop himself. Hermione and I stared at him in shock, my eyes widening madly, her mouth dropping open in shock.

“Don’t be silly, Mr. Longbottom…”

“I AM A WIX!” Neville roared, “It means I am a magic using person who is neither a man or a woman! I do not have a gender! I am, in fact, agender! Gender is ridiculous and stupid! And I ask that you use this term from now on!”

“Mr. Longbottom, there is not such thing as wix. You are a man if you are born with male genitalia, and a woman if you are born with female genitalia. I do not know what fantasy world you have been permitted to live in –“

“If he says he’s a wix, then he’s a wix! What does it matter to you?” I shouted.

“The comfort and safety of students is more important than the preservation of your worldview!” Hermione agreed.

Umbridge stared at us all for a minute before saying, “ _Mister_ Longbottom, please take this,” she scribbled out another note and give it to Neville, who was fuming, “And go with Miss Johnson and Miss Granger to Professor McGonagall’s office.”

We all left quickly, Hermione looking terrified, Neville still looking furious.

“Neville – you do know they all know, now, right –“

“Who cares if they know?” Neville roared at Hermione, “They might as well! I’m sick of people calling me a boy!” He kicked a statue in the hallway in his rage and it actually toppled over; but we kept moving.

We entered McGonagall’s office; Harry was already there. She read the letter without a word and sighed heavily.

“I see you lot are terrible at following my directions,” she muttered in annoyance.

“Since when were we ever able to follow the rules,” I sighed.

“Well, at any rate, all four of you have detention this whole week. You’ll have to work it around your astronomy lessons. I’m sorry, but I cannot argue with her, she is your teacher and she has every right to give you all detention,” McGonagall shook her head, “Your detentions all start tomorrow.”

“Bloody hell,” Neville swore.

“Neville, I am not your enemy, and I would appreciate being treated as such,” McGonagall stated calmly.

“Sorry,” Neville muttered sheepishly.

“Let this serve as a lesson to you all. Keep your heads down, and your tempers under control. I’ll see you this evening, Maggie,” McGonagall nodded, walking over and holding the door open for us. We all left in a crowd, wandering off to dinner together, Hermione hissing to Harry what he had missed.

“The Lightening Bolts?” Neville asked as though nothing had happened. I looked at him and smirked.

“Absolutely not,” Harry responded behind him, “Don’t be mad.”

“I already am,” Neville laughed humorlessly, walking into the Great Hall with a grim expression on his face, “I already am.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Umbiiiiiitch is heeeeeeeeeeeeeere. Please comment!


	56. Chapter Fifty - Five: September 3 - 5, 1995, Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "A drunken salesmen 
> 
> Your hearing damage 
> 
> Your mind is restless 
> 
> They say you're getting better 
> 
> But you don't feel any better 
> 
> Your speakers are blowing 
> 
> Your ears are wrecking 
> 
> Your hearing damage 
> 
> You wish you felt better 
> 
> You wish you felt better." 
> 
> ~ Thom Yorke, "Hearing Damage".

Chapter 55: September 3 – September 5, 1995, Hogwarts.

I always forget that September second is my birthday; or at least, I always did since starting at Hogwarts. But to say that the day previously had been the worst birthday of my life would be an understatement. I woke up the next morning staring at the ceiling, trying my hardest to not cry.

“Hey,” Neville whispered next to me. I looked over at him; I still felt a twinge of something between nervousness and embarrassment whenever I saw him in the morning – we weren’t a couple, and it was still somewhat odd to me that we shared a bed, though I really needed it.

“Hey,” I responded quietly.

“Do you think we’ll have to serve _both_ Snape’s _and_ Umbridge’s detentions?” Neville asked quietly. His face was inches from mine; my heart was pounding in my chest.

“Dunno,” I paused, “But I’m not looking forward to it either way.”

Neville sighed heavily, “I don’t know what came over me yesterday –“

“Hermione and I figured it out, Nev,” I whispered, “It’s cause you’ve had to take care of us.”

“What –“

“No, seriously,” I frowned, “You’ve been helping me with this,” I gestured to the bed, “Harry with how angry he’s been – Hermione with her anxiety over exams and everything else – no one has been taking care of _you_.”

Neville frowned, “Well… yeah, but I don’t mind –“

“It’s not about whether or not you _mind_ ,” I whispered, “It’s about whether or not it’s good for you. So, we’ve decided that you shouldn’t have to take our shit anymore.”

“Well, I still will,” Neville nodded decisively, “I don’t know why, but I’m incapable of doing otherwise.”

“Well, fair enough,” I sighed, “We should go down to breakfast.”

Neville groaned loudly. Yesterday, everyone had been hissing in the dining hall about us – about how Harry was delusional, and Neville was crazy. Surprisingly, not as much muttering about Hermione or me.

“It’s cause I came out in a public forum and Harry actually talked abou the Graveyard,” he answered my unasked question, groaning and throwing his hands over his eyes.

“I’m sorry that that happened, Nev,” I whispered quietly. I really wanted to kiss him, again. His pupils were dilated greatly; I knew he wanted to kiss me, too.

I swallowed heavily and I got up out of the bed, my heart pounding lightly in my chest

Neville let out a long sigh that I chose to ignore, getting up and grabbing my clothes to get dressed in the bathroom. My policy was clear: I wanted to know about his parents.

We headed down to breakfast, but truth be told all I could do was spend the day worrying about what was ahead of me at Umbridge’s detention. Still, I was looking forward to having Transfiguration that day, a class where I knew everything would make complete sense.

First, though, I had to get through Charms, where tiny Flitwick warned us about our upcoming exams. Sam sat with us in this class now (we had always shared with the Ravenclaws), he partnered up with Ron near the four of us.

“What you must remember is that these examinations may influence your futures for many years to come! If you have no already given serious thought to your careers, now is the time to do so. And in the meantime, I’m afraid, we shall be working harder than ever to ensure that you all do yourselves justice!” Flitwick warned before we spent the entire class practicing Summoning Charms, which I had (in)conveniently forgotten how to do over the summer holidays.

During that break, Dumbledore met me outside of the Charms classroom, and we took off together down to the Grounds.

“You sure Umbridge – er, Professor Umbridge – won’t question this?” I asked him nervously as we walked through the misty grounds.

“Absolutely positive, or if she does, it will be directed primarily at me,” Dumbledore answered calmly.

“Good,” I responded, a little too much angery in my words. Dumbledore looked at me sharply.

“It is in within your best interests to try and be a little more compliant with Professor Umbridge’s wills, Miss Johnson,” Dumbledore whispered almost imperceptibly as we reached the woods.

“It is hard for me to control myself so carefully,” I muttered angrily.

“Yes, well, hopefully more constructive instruction from Professor McGonagall will aid you,” Dumbledore responded firmly. I sighed. Was there not one person in the Wizarding World who wasn’t obsessed with what I got up to?

We reached deep enough into the woods and I transformed quickly, roaring out, “ _HERIN!_ ” at the top of my lungs. Soon enough she walked up to us, peering down at Dumbledore carefully.

“Can you understand me?” she asked calmly, in _English_ , which surprised me so much I transformed back. Her pronunciation was something like a scratchy version of a parrot.

“What the hell – you speak English?!” I shouted in shock.

“It is rough on my throat, but yes,” Herin growled softly.

“Yes, Herin, I can understand you,” Dumbledore bowed respectfully.

“Good. We do not have much time,” Herin looked around the woods, sniffing carefully, “You left a trail. Other humans could follow.”

“Yes, let us get on with it, then. You wish to bring another dragon animagus into the country?” Dumbledore asked.

“Yes, to finish training Maggie,” Herin nodded at me, “I also wish for the dragons of Britain to partner with you and your forces.”

“That can be arranged easily,” Dumbledore nodded, “But I need you to gather the dragons in question.”

“That has already been done,” Herin responded.

“Good. I will inform the Order and try to persuade them of your peacefulness and cooperativity. What I need from you is to demonstrate those qualities,” Dumbledore paused, “And to be secretive. I’m afraid the Ministry will not like it if they find out I have partnered with dragons. At the very least, they will arrest me – and the Order – for trying to tame dragons, something that has been illegal in this country for years.”

“Well, you will not be taming us,” Herin flapped her wings angrily, “But I can see why your Ministry would think so.”

“I will be careful to make that distinction with the Order,” Dumbledore paused, “Especially… certain members.”

“Thank you,” Herin paused, “Can my associate enter the country?”

“Yes, but they must be careful, and come in as a dragon. Have them transform back to human form and meet me in these woods. Send word with Maggie,” Dumbledore paused, “Maggie, you will have to come out here regularly to meet with Herin and make sure things are going smoothly.”

“I can do that,” I paused, “I just need you to save my bacon if Umbridge notices.”

“That can be arranged,” Dumbledore smiled slightly, “We shall now go, unless you have more to add, Herin?”

“No,” Herin started moving away, “Go, and be safe.” She wandered through the thick woods away from us, me watching her go with jealousy.

“Come, Miss Johnson,” Dumbledore urged. We walked out of the forest, out to the Grounds, where there were so many students milling about we were barely noticed. We walked up to the Castle and I left to go to my Transfiguration lesson, happy that at least I was headed to my best subject, where I would briefly not feel afraid for one class period. Still, McGonagall did not go easy on the fear mongering.

“You cannot pass an O.W.L. without serious application, practice, and study. I see no reason why everybody in this class should not achieve an O.W.L. in Transfiguration as long as they put in the work. So today we are starting Vanishing Spells. These are easier than Conjuring Spells, which you would not usually attempt until N.E.W.T. level, but they are still among the most difficult magic you will be tested on in your O.W.L.”

I had already done a Vanishing spell the year previously in my private studies, and the past evening I had done a Conjuring spell on the tail of a bird to give it a tail _bone_. Still, I did the spell along with the class, and helped Neville and Harry tackle the work together. Harry managed to vanish his snail on the sixth attempt; Neville actually got his to go just as the class was ending. My ability to vanish it on the first try and Hermione’s on the third won Gryffindor twenty points altogether, which was lovely. This also meant that we had no homework; everyone else was ordered to continue practicing the spell before class the next day.

“Neville, Maggie,” she called as we got up to leave, “Professor Snape has… begrudgingly removed your detentions in light of Professor Umbridge.”

Neville breathed a heavy sigh of relief.

“Please, though, try to be less cheeky,” she begged. We nodded, both grimacing at the fact that we knew we weren’t begin honest, and left.

The Grounds were still foggy that afternoon as we headed to Care of Magical Creatures; Hagrid was still cruelly gone. Professor Grubbly-Plank waited for all of us to arrive; there were absolutely no Slytherins left in the class anymore, which gave me a small beacon of hope in the sea of sadness that was Hagrid’s absence.

“Who can tell me what these things are called?” Grubbly-Plank began, thankfully not giving us the same speech about O.W.L.s. There was a heap of twigs in front of her and Hermione’s hand shot eagerly in the air. The twigs on the table leapt into the air and were suddenly taking on the appearance of tiny, pixie-like creatures made of wood. I raised my hand slowly in recognition.

“Yes, Miss Granger?” Grubbly-Plank asked.

“Bowtruckles,” Hermione answered swiftly, “They’re tree-guardians, usually live in wand-trees.”

“Five points for Gryffindor,” Grubbly-Plank praised, “Yes, those are bowtruckles and, as Miss Granger rightly says, they generally live in trees whose wood is of wand quality. Anybody know what they eat?”

“Wood lice,” I answered, grinning cheekily at Hermione as I did so.

“They prefer fairy eggs if they can get them, though,” Hermione answered equally cheekily.

“Good job, girls, take ten points. So whenever you need leaves or wood from a tree in which a bowtruckle lodges, it is wise to have a gift of wood lice ready to distract or placate it. They may not look dangerous, but if angered they will gouge out human eyes with their fingers. So if you’d like to gather closer, take a few wood lice and a bowtruckle – I have enough here for one between two – you can study them more closely. I want a sketch from each of you with all body parts labeled by the end of the lesson.”

Neville and I both took a bowtruckle and set it down; I immediately set to work sketching the funny creature.

“I have to say, I enjoy this,” Neville muttered sheepishly as he fed the bowtruckle some woodlice.

“Yeah,” I agreed begrudgingly, “This feels like… I dunno, a muggle zoology lesson, for once.”

“Maybe when Hagrid gets back we could… gently ask him to do more things like this?” Neville grimaced, “I want to continue with this class at the N.E.W.T. level but if the monsters are going to keep getting worse…”

“Yeah,” I agreed, “Yeah, we should talk to him.” I still felt guilty, though, for liking something better than Hagrid’s lessons.

“I just wish I knew where he was,” Neville groaned, now doing the sketching himself as I fed the bowtruckle. Both of our sketches turned out quite well, between his sketching of plants and mine of muggle animals; when we saw the drawings of Hermione and Harry after class, we couldn’t help our peals of laughter. They looked like the art of five-year-olds.

 We walked off to Herbology, Neville looking very happy with this latest development, as always. The fourth years were getting out of class; Ginny beamed at us, as did Luna.

“Just so you know, Harry, I obviously believe you,” Luna responded, “If this summer was not an indication.” She was wearing raddish earings again; Sam had obviously not seen her that morning.

“Don’t ask, I’m not in charge of dressing her,” Ginny hissed in my ear, making me snort. Parvati and Lavender were giggling behind us.

“You can laugh!” Luna shouted, “But people used to believe there were no such things as the Blib-“

“Okay Luna, let’s go,” Ginny grabbed Luna’s arm and dragged her away as multiple other people from Hufflepuff and Gryffindor were roaring with laughter behind us. I groaned loudly into my hands.

“I want you to know, Harry,” Ernie Macmillan announced from behind us as we all entered the Greenhouses, “That it’s not only weirdos who support you. I personally believe you one hundred percent. My family have always stood firm behind Dumbledore, and so do I.”

“Thanks, Ernie,” Harry muttered, looking pleased.

“Wow, between not having a negative opinion of me and believing Harry, soon we’ll have to induct you into our secret society of outcasts,” I laughed. Ernie smirked at me. Lavender, Seamus and Siobhan all looked outraged.

“I also believe Harry,” Hannah Abbot murmured quietly. Susan Bones and Sally-Ann Perks were nodding eagerly, as were Parvati and Dean Thomas. Lavender and Siobhan spent the rest of the lesson not talking to Parvati as a result, and there was an icy chill between Dean and Seamus that set the entire class on edge.

“They were the cute couple, too,” Justin Finch-Fletchly commented mournfully after we left the Greenhouses with another essay to complete under our belts and another lecture about the importance of O.W.L.s ringing in our ears.

“Are you behind Harry, Justin?” Ernie asked sternly.

“Of course,” Justin paused, “I remember second year.”

Harry flushed madly; he looked embarrassed.

“It is my deepest wish for the entirety of Hufflepuff fithy year to be behind you, Harry,” Ernie paused, “We have _some_ hold outs, but not man.” He turned and glared at Kelly Henderson, Carl Jacobs, and James Olson, who all looked back at him defiantly.

“It’s okay Ernie, don’t worry about it,” Harry muttered quietly.

“It is not okay! Hufflepuffs are praised for our loyalty!” Ernie puffed out his chest, “How loyal could we be if we do not even believe our own headmaster?”

“He’s got a point,” Ron snorted.

We all headed up to dinner and I began to grown nervous about my punishment that evening. Harry’s detention was scheduled for five o’clock; Hermione’s for seven; Neville’s for nine; and mine for ten. I wondered what could be in store for me so late as I went and did my homework at the table; neither the library nor the Common Room was safe for me now, and I didn’t feel like trying to do work on my bed again.

“I wish I had another place to go,” I muttered once Harry had left for his detention.

“Maybe you could ask Professor McGonagall to use her classroom?” Hermione asked kindly.

“Yeah, I think I will. I need to focus, though, who knows how long detention will take. I’ll see you guys later,” I waved, walking up to McGonagall’s office. She happily let me work there (she didn’t want me alone, even in her classroom, in case something bad happened – the amount of paranoia over a boy I had not talked to since arriving in the castle was amazing, as well as touching) until it grew close to ten. I had managed to finish my herbology essay and had made good progress on my potions one.

“I expct to see you here tomorrow during your morning break,” McGonagall paused, “We have work to do on the theory aspect of your project –“

“Yeah, I know,” I sighed, “Have you been thinking of the lost genes conundrum, or –“

“I have a bit, I think there’s a series of complex transfigurations to resurrect them, or at least, reverse the DNA mutation process, but it’ll take a lot of work and thinking about before attempting,” McGonagall paused, “Read chapter twelve of your advanced book for some ideas.”

“Alright,” I nodded, “Thanks.” I left, heading up to Umbridge’s office, nervously looking around to make sure I wouldn’t get ambushed. I managed to reach the office safely enough, closing the door behind me as I entered.

The room was absolutely disgusting. The surfaces were draped in lacy covers and cloths, there were many vases full of dried flowers, and there were ornamental plates on the walls, with kittens wearing different bows painted on the plates. Everything was pink, too, and I had the urge to vomit as I looked around.

“Good evening, Miss Johnson,” Umbridge smiled thinly. She practically blended in with the wall coverings.

“Evening,” I responded irritably.

“Sit down,” Umbridge pointed to a chair next to a small table. I sat down, looking at her defiantly.

“Now, Miss Johnson, let me say some things before we get started,” Umbridge began. I continued to look at her for a long while.

“It is important for you to realize that your adopted brother is telling great lies, aimed to disturb you and your friends,” Umbridge looked at me much too sweetly, “And has spent his entire life putting you and your friends in deliberate danger. It is in your _best interests_ to try and curtail this behavior in him… or abandon him altogether.”

“I kind of doubt that will happen,” I responded as calmly as I could.

“Well then. If you will excuse me for just a moment, I must go out and get something,” Umbridge informed. She left, closing the door and locking it behind her. I frowned – what professor left in the middle of their own detention? But I sat at the table quietly, looking at it curiously – there appeared to be more than a few drops of blood on it. I frowned heavily.

A long time went by. I was starting to get antsy. I took out my homework and finished the potions essay, glad that that wasn’t hanging over me anymore. I was getting quite tired, my eyes drooping slightly. Umbridge’s office wasn’t connected to her bedroom, but there was a bathroom in the corner. I went in and peed, hoping that it was okay.

An hour had passed; I was now antsy. I needed to go to bed if I was going to get any sleep before the next day. I wondered where Umbridge had gone. I decided to tackle my ancient runes memorizations – I finally had all the Arabic characters down pat as the clock on my watch struck midnight.

Now I was starting to panic. How long would I have to stay in here? How long until Umbridge returned? I fidgeted terribly, but focused on the image of Neville in my brain, managing to calm myself down. There was no good in trying to shift – if I did that, I would break something, the office was so tiny. Also, it would be just my luck that Umbridge would come back the moment I shifted. Once I had calmed down, I took out my advanced transfiguration book, stuffing my nose in it and forcing myself to read chapter twelve. My entire body was shaking with terror as the clock struck one. I walked up to the door and pounded on it loudly.

“HEY! HEY! ARE YOU THERE! HEY!” I screamed into the door. There was no answer.

“Oh my god,” I whispered. She had left me in here on purpose. I started pacing around the room again; my entire body was shaking with terror and fear. I wasn’t going to shift, but I also was probably going to have a nervous collapse. I ran back to the door and pounded on it again.

“LET ME OUT! PLEASE! LET ME OUT!” I roared. Still, no answer came back form the door. I whimpered loudly and slid against it, tears coming to my eyes.

“Let me out,” I begged softly, clutching tightly at my knees. Still, Umbridge did not return. I tackled my essays for charms and for history of magic; having finished them, I looked and saw it was now two and half in the morning.

“PLEASE!” I screamed, running at the door and into it. It didn’t budge. I cried and sobbed loudly; I couldn’t get the handle to move, and alohamora didn’t work. I looked around everywhere in the office – I couldn’t jiggle the window open, and none of the drawers to her desk opened either. There was no way to get out, and no way to find out anything about her, or what she was up to.

I wailed at the top of my lungs and collapsed on the ground, sobbing heavily into my hands. I curled up tightly into the fetal position and whimpered until I managed to fall asleep. I was so overwhelmed and upset that I couldn’t even process the fact that I wasn’t with Neville. When I woke up not two hours later, screaming at the top of my lungs, having been transported in a nightmare to the woods, however, I remembered.

I continued screaming for a long while before stopping, breathing heavily, and crying again. The worst part of this was I wasn’t safe. Usually, my flashbacks ended with me in a position of complete safety – my bed in Chicago, my bed in London, on the roof where no one could find me in London, what have you – I never woke up in danger. But now, I had had nightmare, a _flashback-realistic_ nightmare, and I was stuck, still, somewhere dangerous.

“LET ME OUT!” I screamed at the door again. There was no motion; it was now four in the morning and I knew I wasn’t going to be let out.

I couldn’t let myself sleep again. I hoisted myself up onto the table and forced myself to crap out more homework – I finished my Bowtruckle drawing, though it already had been pretty much done. I then read the rest of the Defense Against the Dark Arts chapter, though it was crap on shittoast and I wanted to burn it. Umbridge’s fire had long gone out; I was actually fairly cold in the office. I shivered madly and pulled my cloak over me, falling asleep once again aginst the table.

I woke up at seven, screaming at the top of my lungs again. I had been in the library. I fell out of the chair, writhing with terror. I gripped her carpet and screamed loudly, begging for someone – anyone – to come and help me. My voice was getting hoarse, and eventually I managed to stop screaming – only because I couldn’t make sounds anymore.

I held my face in my hands and wept silently – since my voice still wasn’t working – until the door to the office finally opened. I looked up and saw Umbridge enter.

“Oh, silly me!” she said, but I was much too in shock over what had just happened to me to actually process this moment, “I seemed to have forgotten you were in here! Oh dear! Please get going to your lesson, Miss Johnson!”

I got up and walked out of there wordlessly. She had purposefully left me in her office all night. Once I had left a good enough space between the classroom and me, I ran as fast as I could to McGonagall’s office. Breakfast could wait. Everything could wait.

I reached her office and ran inside; she was still there, not having left for breakfast herself. She looked up at me in shock – I must have looked a right mess.

“What happened?” she demanded, getting up and walking to me. I trembled madly.

“Office,” I managed to gasp out – my throat still wasn’t working properly, “Locked me in. Overnight. Umbridge. Didn’t say when I’d be out.”

McGonagall looked at me in complete and utter shock. I fell to the ground, sobbing horrifically. I couldn’t even process anything – my mind was blank. The only emotion in my head was fear.

“Professor Umbridge locked you in her office overnight as punishment,” McGonagall clarified in a surprisingly emotionless voice. I nodded, sobbing against my knees, my body curled up into the fetal position, which was not altogether unexpected at this point.

“Maggie, I need you to take some deep breaths,” McGonagall asked. I shook my head madly. I had no ability to do so at this time.

“Alright, just – just stay here – I _promise_ I will be right back, I’m getting Neville,” McGonagall explained. I sobbed heavier as she left. I was clawing at my wrists – I didn’t want to be alive anymore.

“No,” Neville suddenly was in front of me, grabbing my hands and holding them to him, “No, Maggie, No.” He looked like he hadn’t slept all night, either.

“What happened?” he demanded, turning to McGonagall, “What happened? _What happened?_ ”

“Professor Umbridge locked Maggie in her office all night as a form of punishment, and it appears that she did not tell Maggie she was doing this,” McGonagall murmured. Her face was completely white.

Neville howled with rage; he pulled me off the ground and held me tightly in his arms.

“What did she do to you, Neville?” McGonagall asked calmly.

“She – she made me write ‘I am a boy’ over and over on a piece of paper… and it was with a quill that… erm…” Neville looked horrified, “Well, it scratched the back of my hand, used my blood as ink.” He held up his hand; _I am a boy_ was written there clear as day.

McGonagall’s mouth dropped open in horror. I grabbed his hand and stared at it in equal shock, wordlessly, my mouth open with terror.

“It’s alright, it’s not as bad as _this_ , oh my god, all night when you didn’t come back – I was so worried – that George had attacked you or something – I couldn’t – I didn’t sleep at all –“ Neville was sobbing horrifically. It was the first time anyone had said his name to me since I had said what he did. Still, what had just happened to me took the cake. It beat out everything else.

I knew what my nightmares would be now.

“I didn’t… know if I was going to ever leave,” I managed to explain, my voice hoarse, “I… I slept… nightmares… terrible… when I woke up… wasn’t even safe…”

Neville wailed louder. McGonagall had to lean against a chair to try and calm down.

“I will have a word with Professor Umbridge –“

“No,” I choked out, “No. If she – weak – she won’t – I just have to do it.”

“If you tell her, she finds out about Maggie’s mental illness,” Neville roared.

“This is cruel and unusual punishment! For both of you!” McGonagall cried, “I have to stop it!”

“She’ll retaliate _worse_ ,” Neville insisted, “There isn’t a way out of this!”

I whimpered loudly, shaking like a leaf. Neville held onto me tighter.

“We have to act normal the whole day and serve our detentions again tonight. Maggie, you’ll be prepared now. Focus on me, alright? Just focus on me,” Neville urged. I nodded, shaking madly still, tears coming to my eyes.

“Alright. Get her to Arithmancy, and do it quietly,” McGonagall ordered. Neville helped me off the floor and wrapped an arm around my shoulder, guiding me towards the Arithmancy classroom.

I sat down, still shaking. Neville rubbed my shoulder for a long time, his face still white. Hermione entered the room and rushed towards us at the sight, her face pale.

“What’d she have you do, then?” Neville asked quietly.

“I… did lines,” Hermione frowned, “On my hand.”

“Ah, I’m assuming she didn’t have you write _I am a boy_ ,” Neville raised his hand to show Hermione. She gasped, tears coming to her eyes, raising her hands to her mouth.

The back of her hand said _I do not know anything_.

“Ah, that’s a good one,” Neville rolled his eyes.

“Did… Maggie…”

“Oh no, Maggie got a _special_ punishment,” Neville sneered furiously, “See, Maggie here got locked in Umbridge’s office the whole night, without being told that that was going to be her punishment.”

Hermione looked at me with the utmost horror. I buried my face in my hands and rested my head on the desk.

“We can’t do anything about it,” Neville muttered angrily, “Or else she’ll throw Maggie in the loony bin – and try and get McGonagall sacked. We have to be quiet.”

“All the progrees Maggie’s made –“

“I know, but I don’t know what else to do!” Neville hissed furiously.

“It’s cruel and unusual punishment!” Hermione’s words echoed McGonagall’s.

“That doesn’t to her! You don’t think cutting our hands open is usual detention, do you?” Neville hissed, “Look, we just – we just have to ignore it. Maggie is strong. Maggie can do this.”

I nodded very weakly into my arms.

“I cannot _stand that hag,_ ” Hermione hissed furiously as Professor Vector entered the room.

“Now, your O.W.L. year is an important one – and I have the utmost highest standards of my class. The fact that you are all still in this room is a testament to your work ethic and intelligence. I hope that you will continue to uphold the standards I have held you to since day one two years ago. Those of you who continue in my class will be taking on some of the most difficult magic taught her at Hogwarts, however, it will be both rewarding and beneficial, as it will make you competitive for the top jobs coming out of school. Now, probility –“

I was horrifically glad I had spent the summer teaching myself probability. Despite my weak mental state, I was still able to pay attention to Vector and take weak, nervous notes. Neville constantly shot me worried looks out of the corner of his eye, but I didn’t pay attention to him. He was right. If I made a stink about this, I would be in bigger trouble than I was without doing so.

I quickly went to McGonagall’s office to work on my research. I needed a distraction; otherwise I would fall into a pit of despair unlike one I had known previously. She looked up in surprise when I entered.

“Miss Johnson – I had thought –“

“You thought wrong,” I croaked out, “Let’s work.”

She nodded, looking at me in worry, but I quickly took to her blackboards. I needed to focus on _anything other than that woman_. I took to work, scribbling out equations and complex diagrams all over it, pointing to the ones I wanted McGonagall to comment on as I did so. She did so willingly, though she never shook that look of worry from her face as she did. I covered up every surface of her office doing this, even jumping onto a chair to finish an equation up on the ceiling.

“Well, Miss Johnson, this is most impressive –“

“I had a lot of time to think last night,” I croaked out. McGonagall’s face looked unbelievably sad as I pointed to the end of my diagram.

“Yes, I believe that’s the way to do it – shall we try?” I nodded and walked over in determination to the bird napping in a cage on McGonagall’s desk. I raised my wand in the air and waved it, muttering incantations softly under my breath as I did so.

And then, in front of me, the bird no longer had true wings – its hands were extended out like a dinosaur’s, the palms still facing each other (pronation – palms facing the ground or the body of the animal – was utterly impossible), but the claws clearly visible. The bird woke up at this and squaked in surprise.

“Good work, Miss Johnson!” McGonagall praised. I smiled in grim satisfaction.

“Good to know something good came out of that,” I muttered. McGonagall gave me a hug, which was still surprising, but not a new phenomenon. I hugged her back and cried somewhat before pulling back and wiping off my eyes.

“Come, your lesson starts soon,” McGonagall urged. I nodded and wandered out to her classroom weakly. Harry walked up to me and hugged me tightly; his hand clearly stated _I must not tell lies_ , which made me angrier than ever. I trembled with fury and broke a portion of a desk off in my hand; if McGonagall noticed, she made no mention of it.

Harry had a lot of trouble with Vanishing Spells that day, due to his detention; Hermione did fine, but Neville also did amazingly poorly. Every one of the four of us walked out of that lesson looking positively ill; as I sat down to breakfast, I could barely manage to force down a piece of toast. Umbridge at the top table was looking over at us with a sinister smile; just looking at her made me tremble with fear I had not known in weeks.

We went down to Herbology after that; I managed to keep my composure as we worked with the plants. Neville looked cheerier as well, though Harry seemed unable to focus on anything. I still wasn’t talking much; I didn’t want to stress out my vocal chords. We went off to Care of Magical creatures as well and continued to work with the bowtruckles. That night, we all had Astronomy; each one of us would miss portion of the class by being at detention.

Neville and I spent the evening, not at dinner – neither of us could eat – but lying on the bed in our room, taking a nap. Hermione came too, which was a little weird, but the three of us slept next to each other on the bed while Harry was off in his detention. We then wordlessly went up to Astronomy and started looking out into the night’s sky. When Harry came up from detention, Hermione left. When she returned, Neville left. And when Neville returned, I hurried down wordlessly; preparing myself for the horror I was about to endure.

“Ah, yes, Miss Johnson, welcome back,” Umbridge smiled sweetly. I stared at her in loathing and shock, but refused to make any sort of sound.

“Please, sit,” she motioned. I did so, waiting for her to leave and lock me in.

“I will just step out for a moment; please do not worry,” she smiled so evilly I wanted to leap up and rip out her trachea. Still, she left, and locked the door. I sighed heavily and pulled out some of my new homework to do. I might as well use the time in this torture chamber… constructively. I managed to sleep more that night, though my screams whenever I woke up were silent. I really had lost the bulk of my voice. Umbridge came and let me out at the same time, and while I was horrified that this was indeed going to be my repeated punishment, I managed to leave silently and with dignity. There would be no shaking today. There would be no crying today. I went down to breakfast and sat down, pulling out piles of pancakes and dousing them in syrup.

Neville looked white as a sheet that morning; I looked at him in curiosity. He shook his head.

“No,” I croaked out. Neville looked at me for a long time.

“I might have yelled at Umbridge and gotten another week’s detentions,” he finally said.

“What for?” I demanded furiously. Neville rolled his eyes.

“For locking you up. She said I had no right to say anything about it,” Neville frowned, “But I’m not going to let her get away with this.”

I sighed heavily. Typical Neville, falling on his sword for me, always looking out for me and the others in front of himself and his own safety. Still, I couldn’t help but be touched. I reached out and kissed him on the cheek before I could even think about it. He stared at me with sad eyes – I didn’t know what he was thinking, but I’m sure I wouldn’t have liked it if I’d known.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry the chapter is so short and not-spellchecked, guys. My microsoft word doesn't do the red underline thing so I have to read it myself - and I ran out of time tonight, it's getting very late and I need to go to bed :/
> 
> So as you all know, I post this over on FFnet as well. It's not really as favorably responded to over there - most of my reviews lately have been short or negative (no I don't know why I don't just stop over there). 
> 
> I just got a review that can be summarized as "You made a character queer and mentally ill and I don't like it." 
> 
> guys I'm MAKING THE HETEROSEXUALS ANGRY 
> 
> SUCCESS 
> 
> SUCCESS EVERYWHERE 
> 
> Sorry I really don't usually say stuff like that but it was such a DUMB COMPLAINT that I just I can't. I can't. 
> 
> Please comment! You guys here are the best. Y'all don't waste my time with no bigotry.


	57. Chapter Fifty - Six: September 6 - September 7, 1995, Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It was part of the plan 
> 
> Everybody would stand 
> 
> On their hind legs 
> 
> Hands holding high the other 
> 
> Like a tower of brothers 
> 
> And the one on the top 
> 
> Would crow warning 
> 
> And call in the morning 
> 
> And call out the storm that was coming 
> 
> The one on the bottom would steer 
> 
> Till the road was clear 
> 
> And the people would learn to rejoice 
> 
> And to fear our coming." 
> 
> ~ PigPen Theatre Co., "Bremen".

Chapter 56: September 6 – September 7, 1995, Hogwarts

I wasn’t exactly in a hurry to have more detentions with Umbridge. Thus, I managed to keep my mouth shut for the rest of the week. Harry, in equal urgency, spent most of his time doing homework and, outside of that, he wanted to be ready for Quidditch tryouts – Gryffindor needed a new keeper. Hermione was overwhelmed with schoolwork and so also stayed silent in our next Defense Class. Only Neville seemed pissed off enough to get angry at her again; however, seeing the example set by the three of us, he kept quiet in our second class that week.

When the detentions were over, it was almost like a breath of the purest fresh air. That Saturday night I went to bed in my bed again, staring up at the ceiling joyfully. Tears were even leaking out of my eyes.

“It’s over,” Neville soothed softly, pulling me into his arms so tightly that I almost felt like he was trying out his boa constrictor impression, “It’s over, now.”

I pulled up his hand and looked at it. He had the ugliest scar there from his detentions. He pulled his hand out of mine and wrapped it back around my waist. I could literally feel every inch of his body and it made my heart pound so loudly in my chest I could barely hear anything else.

“Until we get detention again,” I muttered quietly. Neville sighed heavily and rested his forehead against mine. I couldn’t help but look deeply into his eyes; the nervous pounding of my heart somehow got _louder_.

“If we do, we know what to expect,” Neville reassured softly, “And we can deal with it. And we _will_ deal with it, okay? She isn’t going to get to us.”

I nodded quietly, burying my face in his shoulder – it was less nerve wracking than looking into his eyes. He was rubbing his hand up and down my back, making me shiver slightly.

“I just don’t know how she could get away with what she did to you,” Neville muttered very quietly.

“She won’t get away with it forever,” I growled very quietly before I could stop myself, “I refuse to let her. I don’t know how I’ll get back at her, but it’ll happen eventually.”

“Good,” Neville nodded. He pulled back from me to look at me again. I frowned at him in confusion.

“You know who else isn’t going to get away with what they did?” he asked very quietly, in a deadly voice I hadn’t actually heard in a little while.

“Er…”

“The bastard. He’s not getting away with it. The moment you’re okay with dealing with the situation, I’m not holding back. I’m just letting you know,” Neville stated calmly. I nodded mutely, pursing my lips together in displeasure. On the one hand, I didn’t want him to get away with it. On the other hand, I was terrified.

“But I won’t until you’re ready,” Neville soothed. I nodded and nestled in closer to his chest, curling up in his arms tightly.

“The Four Musketeers?” I murmured very softly. Neville snorted out loud.

“If Team Potter is bad, that’s a giant pile of _Triceratops_ poop,” Neville leaned over to the nightstand and grabbed his notepad, sitting up against the headboard. I laughed quietly and followed him, leaning against his shoulder. I was on his left side and he was right handed, so he wrapped his arm around my shoulder and I rested my head on his chest.

“How about… Potter Pals?” Neville asked, tapping his quill against his mouth and frowning.

“Oh god, no, the alliteration, the _pain_ ,” I giggled softly.

“Social Justice Squad?” Neville frowned with concentration.

“Boooooooooooooo,” I laughed, holding my thumb down in reinforcement.

“Dragonites,” Neville pursed his lips together.

“Eww, I will not let you talk about my people in this way,” I snorted.

“Then you come up with a name!” Neville stuck his tongue out at me.

“Erm… Harry’s People?” I asked.

“Hah! We aren’t an _entourage_ ,” Neville sniggered.

“Potter Club?” I continued.

“Naaaah,” Neville shook his head in disagreement.

“Potter Posse?” I frowned.

“Okay I think that’s enough terrible ideas for one evening,” Neville leaned over and kissed me softly on the cheek. This was apparently a thing we did now. I flushed madly and nestled into his arms again, wrapping my arms around his stomach.

“Good night,” I murmured softly.

“Good night,” he responded equally quietly. Soon enough I fell asleep, safe as I was in his arms.

But the memories were too fresh. I woke up not three hours later, screaming at the top of my lungs – I had been trapped in a locked room that I could not leave, and the walls were closing in around me. I gripped the bed sheets and screamed so loudly I knew I was going to wake up not just Neville, but probably McGonagall as well. I figured out pretty quickly that I was in a room I could get out of and hunched over, breathing heavily.

“Wh – wha?” Neville mumbled quietly, sitting up and looking at me. I was shaking all over; I was reminded of withdrawal.

“Maggie, what’s wrong?” he wrapped his arms around me again and I sighed heavily, staring at my hands.

“Nightmare,” I muttered.

“Even while here?” he asked, looking at me fearfully. I nodded, tears coming to my eyes.

“What about?” he continued quietly. A loud knocking issued on the door. We looked at each other in a panic; it could be McGonagall, but it also could be the Umbitch. We stared at the door nervously, Neville gripping my hand so tightly I felt like it was going to fall off.

“ _It is me!_ ” McGonagall hissed on the other side. I ran forward and opened the door for her, letting her inside and closing it quickly.

“We thought it might be Umbridge,” Neville muttered as she lit the fire in the fireplace.

“And I thought you two might be less than decent,” McGonagall furthered. I flushed madly, but didn’t feel like having the we-are-not-a-couple discussion for the one-millionth time, and thus stayed silent.

“Maggie had a nightmare,” Neville frowned, looking at me worriedly. I still had not explained it.

“Even when sharing with you?” McGonagall asked in surprise, “I thought you were supposed to eliminate –“

“Yeah I did too,” Neville sighed, “Maggie has yet to elaborate.”

“I – I don’t know,” I whispered, “I dreamt… I dreamt I was locked in a room… couldn’t get out…”

“Oh,” Neville looked horrified and furious.

“I assume the recent nature of the event prevented you from recovering from the nightmare through the presence of Neville,” McGonagall reasoned. I nodded quietly.

“Then we have to make sure that you stay quiet. We got lucky this time, but Professor Umbridge patrols the halls, and she is constantly asking me what this room is. Neville, be sure to quiet her from now on. Maggie, please try to not scream if you have the wherewithal when you wake up,” McGonagall sighed.

“I’ll try,” I muttered, but my words weren’t convincing even to myself. McGonagall patted me awkwardly on the shoulder before leaving quietly, closing the door hurriedly behind her.

“Come on, Maggie, you need to go back to bed,” Neville urged. I looked at him, my eyes wide with fear, and shook my head madly.

“Mags, please, you need sleep,” he begged.

“No I don’t. I need to not scream,” I muttered, sitting on the bed and curling my knees up towards my chest, “I need to be fine.”

“You won’t be fine if you don’t get enough sleep – “ but I kept shaking my head.

“Do you want to talk instead?” Neville finally sighed. I curled up next to him, resting my head on his chest as he lied down on the bed.

“I just don’t want to feel scared anymore,” I mumbled very quietly.

“The trick to not feeling scared, I’ve found,” Neville paused, “Is accepting the fact that you can’t change anything. All you can do is face something head-on. I couldn’t change how Snape treated me. All I could do was react to it. Reacting to it bravely makes me feel better than reacting to it – well, how I used to.”

I looked up at him, “This is different, though. This isn’t… this is feeling like I am going to be killed.”

“Umbridge wouldn’t try to kill you. She’s a Ministry official, and if she killed you, she wouldn’t be able to get away with it,” Neville shook his head.

“I’m worried that she’ll try to hide it or – make an excuse or – I’m worried she’ll do something terrible to me anyway,” I muttered, “I’m more afraid of her than I’ve been of anyone in my life.”

“Maggie, listen,” Neville pulled me up into a sitting position and stared at me intensely, “That woman cannot hurt you. That woman cannot get to you. You are a strong, powerful person, who could take her _any day_. If she actually hurt you – if she actually came after you – _you would win_. No matter what. Hell, if she comes after you, I don’t think it’ll really matter – you fucking shift and you _gut her like a fish_.”

I giggled softly, which was a strange reaction to the suggestion of murder.

“You are going to be okay. And I think now that your detentions are over, it’s important to focus on everything else. You have to go out to the woods and see Herin tomorrow –“ he looked at the clock, “Today. And we have work to do on magical law. And we have _homework.”_

“Remember I can’t go to the library anymore?” I sighed heavily, “I don’t really know what to do about homework. I can’t keep bothering McGonagall in her office.”

“You have to figure out a space you can go to where no one can find you…” Neville acknowledged, frowning heavily.

“I doubt we can find any place like that, unless you have a secret Prefect clubhouse. And even then they won’t let me In there,” I snorted.

“No,” Neville nodded, “No they wouldn’t.”

“Wait, _you have a secret clubhouse?_ ”

“Of course not, but we do have a bathroom,” Neville chuckled.

“Oooh!” I gasped, “What’s it like?”

“You really want to know about the posh prefect bathroom?” Neville chortled.

“I really want to – I dunno – not think about my nightmares,” I muttered.

“That’s fair,” Neville paused, “It’s just – it’s over the top. There’s this huge bathtub that can better be described as a swimming pool. And the toilets are way too fancy for a bathroom. And frankly, I never really feel like I can take a leak in there.”

“Is it crowded?” I asked curiously.

“No, not at all – frankly I’ve been in there three times and never seen anyone – no, it’s more like there’s this stained glass window of a freaking merperson who keeps staring at me and giggling whenever I pee,” Neville muttered angrily.

“Why does she giggle at you when you pee?” I smirked in amusement.

“I have no freaking idea,” Neville flushed madly.

“Oh you clearly _do_ have an idea –“

“No, no I do not,” Neville insisted, his face now so red it looked like Weasley hair, “But yeah, you’re not missing out on much with that one.”

“That’s fair,” I paused, “But do you have any ideas about where I can go to study?”

“No, but I’ll do some investigating today. You need to be able to go somewhere,” Neville sighed, “I’ll do it while you’re in the forest.”

“Okay,” I muttered, “I don’t know how I’m going to get into there without Umbridge finding out.”

“We need someone to serve as a distraction,” Neville frowned in concentration, “Maybe Harry?”

“Have Harry… _purposefully_ get in the way of Umbridge?” I snorted.

“Well, it’s a better idea than you just running in there, her finding you, and you getting detention or worse,” Neville sighed.

“Harry shouldn’t get detention either! His hand looks the worst of all of us!” I grumbled.

“Then maybe Hermione. She could question her about something in the textbook – maybe even ask a series of complex questions about the theory – Hermione is good at thinking on her feet, she could come up with something and maybe even not get into trouble,” Neville suggested before yawning sleepily.

“You need to go to sleep. I’ll be okay,” I dismissed, pulling out a book and opening it on my lap.

“No no. You’re awake, I’m awake,” Neville shook his head furiously.

“That’s ridiculous, you can’t –“

“I can, and I will,” Neville rested his head on my shoulder now, reading my book over my shoulder sleepily. It was a book on avian origins.

“A muggle biology book?” Neville asked, though his words were still very sleepy and his eyelids were drooping adorably.

“Yes,” I murmured back, “I’m reading up on bird biology. Birds and dragons might have diverged around the same place in the theropod tree… _Draco prima_ was amazingly raptor-like. I’m seeing if there are insights.” I read it carefully, Neville still resting against me. Soon enough, he was snoring softly; if he had been trying to read, he wasn’t able to continue with it. I smiled and kissed the top of his head, still reading until eventually my own eyelids drooped and before I could stop myself, I dropped the book into my lap as I fell asleep as well.

I woke up still in that position; I had somehow managed to avoid nightmares, or if I had them, I didn’t remember them. I groggily stretched, feeling as stiff as I had when I slept on roofs. I looked over at Neville who was still sleeping, his mouth hanging open as he snored. I giggled quietly and kissed him on the top of the head again before looking at the clock – it was already ten in the morning.

I gently shook Neville awake, looking down at him earnestly. He stirred and looked up at me, blinking his eyes cutely.

“We should get to breakfast,” I urged softly. He nodded groggily.

“Did you get any more sleep?”

“Yeah,” I nodded, “Somehow. Come on, it’s ten.”

Neville got up and stumbled into the bathroom to change. I stared at my hands, wondering how long I would be able to get on like this before I finally gave in to my instincts.

We went down to breakfast and Hermione and Harry were waiting for us, Hermione reading the _Daily Prophet_ and scowling, Harry reading his potions textbook, his mouth hanging open, a slight trickle of drool coming out – well, this was to be expected, as it appeared he was not reading, but sleeping sitting up.

“Hey,” Neville greeted, sitting down and grabbing food.

“You need to go on patrol more,” Hermione stated calmly.

“Blood hell, Mione, I just got up –“

“Well, you do. I’ve managed to make time and I’m taking one more class than you,” Hermione shook her head.

“Yeah well you’re Hermione Granger,” Neville shook his head, “Rhys?”

“No, that’s not his name,” Hermione frowned.

“How about Hair Bear?” I chuckled.

“Absolutely not,” Hermione and Neville responded in unison. The sound was loud enough to wake Harry up.

“Oi – what are yeh –“

“Nothing, Harry,” Hermione soothed. Neville snorted into his toast.

“If you lot are plotting to get me a date behind my back again –“

“Nothing like that,” I rolled my eyes.

“Good, because I have one.”

We all looked at him, our mouths dropping open in shock.

“That was a hell of a non sequitur, mate,” Neville managed to choke out.

“Well you lot all had failed relationships, it’s my turn,” Harry joked, “Just kidding. I don’t want it to fail.”

“But – everything that’s happened this week –“ Hermione stammered, looking horrified.

“Yeah, exactly. It’s been the worst, and none of you people have even been able to help me, because it’s been terrible for you too. Of course I don’t blame you all even a little bit, but it means I’ve been spending more quality time with a person outside of the Potter Four,” Harry suggested, grinning slightly.

We all stared up at the ceiling, our lips turned into expressions of concentration, pondering over this one together. We then all looked at each other and shook our heads, saying in unison, “Nah.”

“Did this person help you out?” Neville asked once Harry had returned to eating food after the universal consideration moment.

“Yes, loads,” Harry paused, “She’s great.”

“Alright, that’s enough, you have to tell us,” I shook my head.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Harry paused.

“Well, probably, but it’s nice to hear verbal confirmation,” Neville snorted.

Harry rolled his eyes, “Ginny, obviously. We’re going to spend the day around the lake together.”

Hermione was hiding her face behind her wall of hair. I looked at her in concern for the shortest of moments before turning back to Harry.

“That’s great, Harry. She’s great,” I smiled.

“She said you’d be okay with it, Neville – are you – er –“ Harry flushed in embarrassment.

“Course I am. What we were wasn’t serious,” Neville shook his head, “You’re fine.”

“Cool,” Harry stood up, “I’m going to go get her. See you lot later,” he left the table, walking out to the Great Hall. I sighed heavily.

“The problem with not being in the Common Room is we don’t actually know what’s happening anymore,” Neville frowned.

Hermione was sniffling loudly; I reached out to pat her comfortingly on the shoulder.

“It’s going to be okay, Hermione,” I whispered.

“I’m going to go,” she muttered softly, getting up and leaving the table. Neville and I looked at each other in worry.

“Maybe we should go to the Common Room _sometimes_ – see what’s actually happening. We don’t have to sleep there or anything – we could leave when it’s time for bed, but… I feel terrible for Hermione right now,” Neville sighed, “I mean between everyone being around – and me never leaving your side – the great prick shouldn’t bother you, right?”

“No,” I frowned, “I’m willing to try it tonight.”

“Good,” Neville smiled grimly, “Now… I’m going to go… Sorry, I just have a hunch about something. As long as you don’t draw attention to yourself, you should be fine getting to the woods.”

I nodded, “Yeah… okay.” Neville got up and left, walking purposefully back through to the staircase. I watched him go mournfully, my heart pounding loudly in my chest at the fact that I was completely alone. I sighed heavily and got up, walking out towards the Grounds.

There were plenty of people outside – some Hufflepuffs were playing catch, a group of students were tickling the Giant Squid; I could see Harry and Ginny walking hand-in-hand near the forest. I was so torn up at the sight – should I be happy for Harry and Ginny, or sad for Hermione? – that I had to turn around and walk away.

I moved towards Hagrid’s hut and looked around the pumpkin patch as though that were my destination – no pumpkins were growing, due to Hagrid’s still unexplained absence. I looked around for a long minute – there were dozens of other students outside, none of whom noticed me. I took a deep breath and ran inside the forest as fast as I could, sprinting through the trees towards the center of the forest. Far enough in, I shifted again, gliding out towards the middle of the wood and sitting there.

I didn’t even have to call Herin; she walked out towards me, nodding at me calmly.

“Is your associate here?” I asked calmly.

“Almost. She should be here any moment,” Herin paused, “She’s had a long journey.”

“Yes, I figured as much,” my tail twitched nervously. Who would this new teacher be? Would they be able to teach me? Would they be patient? Would they be a jerk?

“She is a medium sized dragon – a Thai sickle claw,” Herin explained.

“Those are – the ones with the short arms – and the raptor claws on their feet?” I asked, “The forest green ones?”

“Yes,” Herin nodded.

“She was living in America?” I frowned in confusion.

“Her parents were immigrants. She is one in a long line of Halflings,” Herin paused, “But she rejected the life for a long time.”

“How did she reject the life?” I asked curiously.

“She briefly lived in the muggle world… received an education from them. But being a Halfling was an essential part of being in her family…” Herin looked up expectantly. Emerging from the shadows was a dragon about the size of a _Parasaurolophus_ – as tall a Grizzly Bear when it stood. The dragon’s hands were folded up against their body, and they strutted into the clearing like a peacock, their dark green wings folded neatly as well. The dragon looked at the two of us silently.

“Hello,” Herin greeted.

“Hello,” the dragon responded – I couldn’t tell what her sex was, or if I knew her – dragon voices and human voices were drastically different.

“Should we – uh – shift?” I asked, acutely noticing that I was the smallest dragon present.

“Yes, I believe so,” the dragon agreed, before shifting into a form that I was amazingly familiar with.

“ _Shae_?” I gasped in surprise, shifting into human form and looking at her in shock, my mouth dropped open as far as it would go.

“Hello there little idiot,” Shae grinned cheekily. She was just as tall and curvaceous and beautiful as I remembered her being. Her long black hair was done up in dreadlocks that she had pulled back into a ponytail; she was wearing the same clothes she wore to bartend – a vest with nothing underneath that showed her midriff, and torn up jeans and sneakers. She had dragon tattoos all up and down her darkly colored arms (similar in hue to my own, though _slightly_ lighter), which only now I realized the significance of. Her brown eyes sparkled with mirth. She wasn’t carrying anything with her, though I saw a wand sticking out of her pocket.

“What the hell – I thought you were a psychologist?” I demanded in shock.

“I am,” Shae snorted, “Doesn’t make me not a witch.”

“What – why didn’t you – say anything?” I asked, running a hand through my ponytail.

“Are you kidding? And blow my cover?” Shae shook her head, “The Riders sent multiple groups to tail you. One group of your peers, one group of adults – we adults knew about the teenagers, but the teens didn’t know about us. We were really monitoring your monitors.”

“Then – how did you – bartending – confused,” I spluttered out.

“When we saw you were going down a bad path, we knew we had to monitor it if nothing else. I already am a bartender; when I’m not doing work for the Riders, I work as a psychologist researcher and moonlight at bars for extra cash. I used my reputation to pull the gig at the Club. My main employ is through the Riders, though. Can’t get away from it when you’re a Halfling,” Shae rolled her eyes.

“Then – why didn’t you say anything when I told you that bullshit about gangs in Scotland?” I asked.

“It was so fucking amusing to see you try to explain wizards without explaining wizards,” Shae grinned mischievously, “Funniest thing I’ve ever heard – Hugo and I had laughs for weeks, honestly.”

“Hugo is – too?” I gasped.

“Yeah, he’s a Rider. He’s impressive enough that he easily could play the part of bouncer. When we realized you were having flashbacks and nightmares all the time, he came up with the idea of using the heroin. We needed to get you to a state where you were… at least partially receptive to the idea of joining us. I was firmly against it, but I was overruled by the council,” Shae rolled her eyes, “Hugo wasn’t pleased that he came up with the idea when you got particularly addicted.”

I frowned, “Well, I’m not anymore…”

“We know, and we’re glad,” Shae paused, “There was a lot of mismanagement when it came to your case and your abilities. We had to balance the need for going fast and the need for your cooperation – and we didn’t balance it well. Still, it all worked out eventually.”

“I was homeless for a week,” I glared for a minute.

“That wasn’t our fault. You were doing better – your foolish parents dragged you out of Chicago before you were ready,” Shae rolled her eyes, “The government couldn’t tell your mom what was going on and why you needed to stay, so they couldn’t stop your parents.”

“Well… I suppose that’s true… but how are you a psychologist?” I demanded, still feeling confused.

“Hasn’t anything you seen taught you that American wixen are way more chill with muggles?” Shae snorted, “We study fucking dinosaur evolution for crap’s sake. I went to the Chicago Academy until I was fifteen and became a Halfling at my parents’ desire. I then dropped out and went to muggle school – got into college right away because I’m a smart little witch, got my PhD in record time. By the time I was done with that, I went and finished up my magical training in private. My Halfling status meant I was enrolled in the Riders Outreach Program without my consent, and everyone laughed at me for being fucking terrible at magic.”

“Are you terrible at magic?” I asked.

“I’m good at transfiguration, charms, and defense against the dark arts – everything else, yeah,” Shae sighed, “It’s why I left your world. I really – it’s not so much I am bad at magic, I just can’t give a crap about potions or herbs or what have you. I’m good at casting spells and that’s about it. So I left. I wanted to know how the mind worked – I wanted to understand it. So I went after my real calling.”

“How old are you?” I continued, frowning slightly.

“Twenty-five,” Shae paused, “So still much too old for you, idiot.”

“No, I’m good on that,” I rolled my eyes, “Seriously, I’ve gone legit.”

“I’ve been told. I’ve also been told that you have a friend who’s nursed you back to health,” Shae smirked in amusement.

“Yeah, well, he – shut up,” I muttered angrily. Shae grinned wider but didn’t say anything more.

“So I need to see Dumbledore – can we get up there without the crazy lady seeing us?” she asked.

“I don’t know… it’ll be tricky. You kind of stand out as ‘not a Hogwarts student’,” I sighed.

“No matter. I’ll just send a patronus,” Shae shrugged, “They can be used to communicate between wixen.”

“Am I hearing right? You’re using the term wixen?” I asked quietly.

“Yeah – it’s the term for a group of not male or female magical people or, in the cases I’ve been using it for, multiple magical people of mixed genders. Why?” Shae frowned.

“No, just – my friend is agender – and he uses the term wix, so it’s really nice to hear it be verified,’ I shrugged.

“He’s agender but… a he?” Shae raised an eyebrow.

“He prefers the he/him pronouns still, yeah,” I looked at her defensively.

“Alright, just making sure it wasn’t you fucking up,” she rolled her eyes and waved her wand, “ _Expecto patronum!_ ”

A dragon – her form – flew out of the wand, looking at her expectantly.

“Go to Albus Dumbledore, tell him I’m here,” Shae instructed. The dragon flew off into the trees and out onto the grounds. I watched it go in fascination.

“I assume you can’t do one of those?” Shae asked. I shook my head.

“We don’t learn that until much later… and if that horrible hag continues to teach Defense, I’m not sure I’ll be in a class to learn it,” I muttered angrily.

“Well, the job’s cursed if you ask me, so you’ll probably have a new prof next year,” Shae snorted.

“Yeah, but I have to _pass_ my O.W.L. first, and lord knows I won’t do that with her style of teaching,” I muttered.

“What does she have you do?” Shae demanded.

“We read this book on defensive theory and we don’t talk,” I rolled my eyes, “No magical practice and she doesn’t even instruct us.”

“That’s complete bullshit,” Shae frowned, “A teacher is supposed to teach. If you just had to read the book to learn something, there wouldn’t be formalized schooling.”

“Right? But the last time I was too sarcastic in her class I got a week’s detentions, so I’m not going to point it out anytime soon,” I muttered angrily.

“Well, you shouldn’t have your education be destroyed because your government is corrupt. Not like mine’s any better – I mean did you hear me before? I’ve been drafted into the army for life – but still, I’ve never seen shit like _that_ pulled… in my lifetime,” Shae grunted irritably.

“The Ministry has a thing about Voldy-pants, they really don’t want him back,” I sighed.

“Voldy-pants?” Shae smirked at me.

“Yeah, a title he deserves,” I snorted.

“Well there is truth in your words,” Shae chuckled. Herin snorted out smoke behind us.

“And what is so funny, Herin?” Shae asked.

“Humans are bizarre,” Herin responded in dragon. I rolled my eyes and shifted, drifting up to the treetops to try and get a look for Dumbledore. I didn’t see anything out on the grounds apart from students having fun; I drifted back down and shifted back.

“No sign of him. Should we be worried?” I asked.

“He might already be in the forest. Best to just sit tight,” Shae reassured.

Soon enough, Dumbledore walked through the forest and greeted us. Shae walked up to him and shook his hand, looking sterner than I had ever seen her.

“It is good to see you, Miss -?”

“Shae Rattanakosin. Just call me Shae. I changed my first name when I was old enough to and I don’t really want to say the old one. My parents are native Thais,” Shae rolled her eyes, “But I was sick of people mispronouncing my name.”

“Alright, Shae. We can go up to the castle – Professor McGonagall has managed to occupy Professor Umbridge for a time. Herin, I will see you later this week,” Dumbledore bowed. Herin bowed in response and we humans (ish) walked through the forest out to the Grounds.

Shae was not a normal sight at Hogwarts – a good number of students looked at her in surprise, and me in equal shock as we walked out of the forest. One of the students playing catch dropped the ball. She was very pretty, but I had hoped that Dumbledore would make people… not pay attention?

We made our way up to the castle and walked up to Dumbledore’s office. We then went inside and Shae stood around awkwardly, looking at all the magical objects.

“I am to understand that you can train Maggie in her abilities?” Dumbledore asked, not even beating around the bush. I nervously shifted in my spot.

“Yes,” Shae paused, “I am very good at what we do, especially as a human. I am a bartender a good portion of my time and many men like to think they are entitled to _this_ ,” she gestured to her body, “I have to remind them that this is not the case, and usually it takes more than a little force. I have been well-versed in Dracudo, the dragon martial art form. It was developed partially in the Americas – where most Riders live – and partially in East and South East Asian countries, where most Halflings live. It is a form of defense that all Riders and Halflings know and can do, and Maggie needs to be able to as well. Otherwise, her somewhat heightened abilities in her human form will be… unperfected. She is just as likely to hurt herself without training as she is an opponent.”

Dumbledore nodded, appearing to be deep in thought, “Could we train an army of riders here in a short period of time?”

“No,” Shae answered simply, “It is a bond that is forged at birth or in childhood and lasts one’s whole life. Some people bond as adults, but it is almost always weaker and most often does not work out unless there are special circumstances – you’ve known the dragon since childhood, the dragon is the romantic partner of the dragon of _your_ romantic partner, that sort of thing.”

“But we _can_ work together?” Dumbledore demanded.

“As long as there is plenty of mutual respect, yes,” Shae paused, “I can decidedly help with that, too. But I recognize that my presence here needs to be more than discrete.”

“It needs to be almost invisible,” Dumbledore nodded, “You could be seen as aiding me in overthrowing the Ministry –“

“Ludicrous,” Shae snorted.

“Tell that to the Ministry. At any rate, I will provide you a room and board down in the Village. You can come up here to train Maggie on the weekends – she is a fifth year student, about to sit her examinations, and cannot take more time than that. Is that alright?” Dumbledore asked.

“Sure, definitely,” Shae nodded, “I should probably buy some clothes. I wanted to travel light; flying across the Atlantic isn’t easy.”

“Do you have money to do so?”

“Yes,” Shae affirmed, “I do. I shall go into the village and apparated to Gringotts to get it exchanged.”

“Good,” Dumbledore paused, “I will go with you and you can get settled in. Maggie has had a long week, I believe it would be more beneficial to you both to start training next weekend instead.”

“Alright,” Shae acknowledged. The three of us walked out of the office; Dumbledore and Shae immediately left for the doors. I sighed and walked back to my room, wondering exactly what I should spend the rest of the day doing. I went and closed the door behind me, sighing heavily. Going out into the forest was always nerve wracking; I didn’t know if Umbridge was watching me or not.

I spent that afternoon reading my advanced transfiguration book; I had many sheets of parchment out all over the bed and was scribbling on them eagerly, quickly figuring out more diagrams. I had multiple skeletals of _Velociraptor_ all over the walls and I was frowning at them in concentration. I had out my sketchbook as well and was sketching out _Velociraptor_ as it may have looked with feathered plumage, based on what I had seen on Cheepers; I accidentally got ink on the sheets multiple times and I knew Neville would be pissed.

 _He can probably clean it up, he’s good at Charms_ , I thought as I dropped an entire inkbottle on the bed, immediately groaning and panicking. I kept working, though; my mind was in the zone, and I had to work it out.

I had drawn about fifty copies of the _Velociraptor_ skeletal and had labeled it with extensive spells and diagrams by the time the door to the room opened. Neville walked in and his mouth dropped open in shock, looking at the extremely messy room in amazement.

“I’m on a roll,” I responded to his unasked question, holding up my newest diagram to an old one and frowning.

“You’re on a warpath!” Neville laughed, waving his wand and muttering, “ _Scourgify!_ ” All the ink was sucked up from the mattress.

“Did you complete your quest of the morning adequately?” I looked at him, smirking.

“I did – but did you?” Neville looked at me in amusement.

“Yeah – my Halfling trainer is _Shae_ ,” I grinned eagerly.

“Really?” Neville’s eyebrows rose in shock, “Should I be on the lookout for her?”

“She’s living in the Village – you can meet her when we start training next week,” I explained eagerly.

“Great,” Neville laughed, “Now _you_ have to see what _I_ found.”

“What did you find?” I asked curiously, packing up all my notes and sticking them into a pile on the dresser.

“Well, the thought occurred to me at breakfast – I was staring too intently at my toast and thinking about how fucked up everything was again –“

“Sure, sure.”

“That if anyone in this castle knew about secret rooms – who would it be?” Neville grinned.

“Dumbledore?” I looked at Neville curiously.

“Nah, come on, even he’s said he doesn’t know everything about the castle – who _really_?” Neville laughed.

“Ghosts?” I continued, grinning happily at him. When I was with him, I could forget how screwed up I was, sometimes.

“That’s – also a good idea – but come on, Maggie, context clues – I was looking at my _breakfast_ ,” Neville rolled his eyes.

A light bulb went off in my head, “The elves!”

“Exactly!” Neville beamed, “And they showed me – well, Dobby showed me – this room he used last year to help Winky with her drinking problem. Come on, I’ll show you!” Neville grabbed my hand and we ran through the corridors together, up the staircase to the seventh floor. I looked at him in amusement as we stopped in front of a blank wall. We were standing opposite the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy teaching trolls ballet.

“What – erm – is it?” I asked.

“Right – we have to walk past the room three times and think about _exactly_ what we need. No loopholes,” Neville grinned, “Like – make sure every bit about the room you want is exactly the way you need it to be. So in this case – we need someplace where we can study safely, without anyone, especially George Weasley, finding us; right?”

“Right,” I nodded, looking at him in pure amusement.

“Well then, come on! Let’s walk!” Neville beamed so widely his eyes were practically closed. We walked back in forth in front of the wall, thinking this phrase together. On the third try, suddenly, a door appeared in the wall.

“Come on!” Neville laughed, grabbing my hand again and pulling me into the room.

It was cozy and small, with a table and four chairs in the middle of the room. There was a small fireplace with a couch and a loveseat next to it. The walls were lined with bookshelves that made my heart soar – I could look up things again. The entire room was decorated in red and gold, like the Gryffindor Common Room.

“Wow,” I breathed in amazement.

“And we can let Hermione and Harry in, too – and we can use it for other things if we wish,” Neville grinned, “It’s perfect! It’s the catch-all room!”

“I assume it has a real name?” I grinned.

“Come and Go Room,” Neville explained, “Though Dobby said it’s also called the Room of Requirement.”

“I could use this room to train with Shae,” I laughed, “Where was it last year when we were practicing with Harry for the tournament?”

“You know, we didn’t exactly _need_ it then, but we need it now,” Neville beamed, “And you can study alone in here, too – just make sure to add the stipulation that George, and what the hell, _Umbridge_ , can’t get in, and you’ll always be fine.”

I smiled wider, “This is brilliant, Neville. You’re literally the best.”

“Nah,” Neville flushed madly and looked down at his shoes.

I leaned up and kissed him on the cheek, blushing furiously and insisting, “Yeah.” Neville blushed even more and we looked at each other awkwardly for a long time.

“Erm… we should find Hermione… we could bring her here to talk,” Neville finally squeaked out.

“Good idea,” my voice was fairly breathless. We walked out of the room and towards the Gryffindor Common Room, which wasn’t that far away. Neville muttered the password – _Mimbulus mimbletonia –_ and I entered the Common Room for the first time since last year.

There were a lot of students around, talking and chatting – no one noticed our entrance. Hermione was sitting in a corner of the room, her nose buried in an arithmancy text, tearstains all over her face.

“Hey,” Neville murmured. She looked up in shock.

“You two aren’t supposed to be in here!” she hissed angrily.

“Hey now, we can still be in here, we just choose not to be,” Neville grinned.

“Fine, what’s up,” Hermione sniffled. Students were still milling about behind us; I shifted nervously, looking around for the boy who should not be named.

“We have a place to show you,” Neville grinned happily, “Come on.”

Hermione looked at him incredulously but followed us out into the corridors and back down towards the Room of Requirement.

“You know, instead of finding new places to not snog each other in, you should be patrolling the corridors, Neville,” Hermione snorted derisively.

We stopped in our tracks; my face was so red it probably matched tomatoes. We both slowly turned to glare at her furiously.

“What? I’ve decided I’m not going to humor you both anymore,” Hermione snorted, “I don’t have the patience.”

Neville made a spluttering noise but we kept walking and went in front of the room, both of us thinking of what we needed in concentration. The door opened and Hermione frowned in confusion next to us as we all went inside. It was the same room as before – but then again, I had been wishing for that.

“What is this place?” Hermione gasped in amazement.

“The Room of Requirement – see –“ Neville began explaining to Hermione as I walked up to the bookshelf and eagerly pulled a book on dragon anatomy from it, perusing it happily – it seemed to be a legitimate book, but that didn’t violate one of the elementary rules of transfiguration after all.

“You know what else we could use this for?” Hermione asked, her ‘I’m making trouble’ voice coming out.

“Oh no,” Neville groaned.

“The social justice group?” I grinned cheekily.

“Oh, I think after what happened this week, it’s more of a revolution,” Hermione looked much cheerier at this thought, now that she wasn’t thinking about Harry and Ginny – and frankly, I was inclined to agree with her. Neville groaned again, but he was grinning despite himself. We all nodded at each other with smiles on our faces.

It was time for the revolution.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys are seriously the best *sheds tear over lovely comments* Thank you!
> 
> (By the way, I really have no idea what A) to call the 4 of them and B) what Harry's nickname should be. If any of you have any ideas, they will definitely be used at least in the dialogue of the story, and maybe even used as the final term. Thanks!)


	58. Chapter Fifty - Seven: September 8 - 9, 1995, Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I don't want to remember it all 
> 
> The promises I made if you just hold on 
> 
> Hold on, hold on, hold on, hold on 
> 
> And I just need enough of you to dull the pain 
> 
> Just get me through the night til we're twins again 
> 
> Till we're stripped down to our skeletons again 
> 
> Till we're saints just swimming in our sins again 
> 
> And there's a jet black crow droning on and on and on 
> 
> Up above our heads droning on and on and on 
> 
> Keep making trouble till you find what you love 
> 
> I need a new partner in crime and you shrug." 
> 
> ~ Fall Out Boy, "Twin Skeletons (Hotel in NYC)".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh I am up way past when I should be again, so sorry for the shorter chapter and the lack of spell check :(

Chapter 57: September 8 – September 9, 1995, Hogwarts

Harry, Neville, Hermione and I were all sitting in the Room of Requirement, using the privacy to get good chunks of work done.

“So Cormac McClaggan – this sixth year who seems kind of like a douche – is the new Keeper. I guess he’ll be okay, though, Alicia said he was good – she’s still pissed I didn’t make it to practice, but I’m going to try and keep out of trouble this week so I can actually make it,” Harry explained.

“How is Angelina doing?” Hermione asked softly. She had been amazingly cool towards Harry since his “superbly fantastic date” (his words); while this was not unexpected, she still probably could have kept her cool a tad better.

“She’s… she’s like a shell of herself,” Harry admitted, “She barely talks anymore. I wish I could do more.”

“We should try to talk to her. None of us have been through what she has, but –“ I gasped out loud.

“What?” Neville asked curiously.

“My dad – my dad was imperiused and did something similar – my dad could talk to her! I’ll write him a letter!” I realized, “I’ll be right back!”

I ran out of the Room of Requirement and sprinted up to the Owlery, quickly writing out a message to my dad and sending it off. I beamed happily and turned around, walking down the stairs.

I wandered into the hallway and I saw the last thing I wanted to see – Fred and George were walking up towards me, talking eagerly with one another. I stopped short in my steps, all the blood draining from my face. I could feel my fingers twitching with terror.

“Maggie!” Fred greeted happily, “I never see you anymore! Where’ve you been?”

My throat was dry; I tried to choke out some words but nothing came out.

“You alright? You seem sick,” Fred frowned. George was staring at me with a look of concern on his face; it made me want to cry with horror and terror and so many more emotions I couldn’t file them all.

“Erm… yeah, I’m fine,” I managed to say, though my voice was hoarse, “I’ve just been… dealing with a lot of stuff.”

“Like what?” George seemed kind, but I knew better now.

“Uh… Umbridge… shut me in her office overnight… every night this week… as detention,” I mumbled, “The first night was without warning… every other night I was prepared…”

“Holy fuck!” Fred shouted.

“Yeah… I g-gotta go,” I mumbled, moving quickly past them and running through the hallway. I didn’t stop running until I was in my bedroom, panting horrifically, laying heavily on the bed. I felt tears come to my eyes that I didn’t want.

 _I can’t keep reacting like this_ , I though in horror. I couldn’t. It would be horrifically inconvenient for me to keep reacting to George like this. Yes, I was afraid. But I knew that I wouldn’t always have my friends around – be they Neville, Harry, Hermione, Ginny, or even Fred. Not everyone would be around all the time to serve as a buffer.

I clutched my hands into fists; I shoved my nails into my palms and squinted my eyes shut in concentration. I had to do it. I had to move on, I had to force myself to be okay.

 _Easier said than done_.

Still, it had to happen. So many things were on the horizon – Voldemort, Umbridge, what have you – and George was, unfortunately, on the side that I was on. I swallowed heavily and looked out over everything around me in my room for a while – Neville’s piles of clothing, my notes in the corner. I sighed and shook myself out, as though to remove myself from any sort of horror. I then went and stepped into the shower for a long time before leaving and going back up to the Room of Requirement. I held my head high; I would refuse to be afraid again.

I knew that all of this talking to myself – all of this pushing myself up despite all evidence telling me it wouldn’t be this simple – wouldn’t work out the way I hoped. But I couldn’t have more encounters like that. I had to talk to George sometimes, and I would just have to trust that I would never let him near me again.

At the thought, I reached reflexively for one of the knives on my skirt. Ginny’s words last year filled up my heart. If Ginny could pick herself up after being so terribly violated by someone, then so could I.

I walked into the Room of Requirement – the gents were all still there. I smiled weakly at them all.

“You changed – and showered,” Hermione observed with a suspicious look on her face.

“I sent the letter,” I began, “And I ran into Fred and George.”

Harry immediately hissed; Neville stood up and ran to me to grab ahold of me; Hermione gasped.

“It was fine. I mean, I didn’t react well at all, but all things considered nothing terrible happened. But seeing him made me feel gross, so I showered. But I realized that I’m going to have to run into him – I can’t keep avoiding him for the rest of my days. So I’m going to… I have to get used to seeing him again,” I stated calmly.

“Or,” Harry suggested, looking at me earnestly, his eyebrows raised, “You could tell someone about him, and get the bastard arrested.”

I frowned, “I’m still not ready for that.”

“Oh bloody hell –“

“Harry, think about what rape culture is like. Just think about it for a moment. I don’t blame Maggie for not wanting to come forward one bit – the way people treat victims – she’ll be blamed. She doesn’t need that,” Hermione shook her head, “If she wants to come forward, she will, if she so chooses. But until then, let’s not pressure her.”

Neville frowned; he didn’t look happy about the situation.

“Have something you want to say?” I asked him, raising my eyebrows.

“I just… I don’t want you to go your whole life having to play nice with your rapist,” Neville answered honestly. Harry nodded eagerly behind him.

“And maybe I won’t. I probably will come forward sometime. But it has to be when I know that I can deal with it. Right now – with Umbridge – and the war – is not the time,” I shrugged.

“Would you even be able to get him into trouble, though, that long after it happened?” Harry frowned furiously.

“Maybe not. Probably not. Honestly I could only get him punished if I went to authorities immediately after it happened. But I already wrote that off at the time – I couldn’t stand…” I had never described any bit of the event to my friends. Neville’s face went white, and Hermione started crying. Harry had balled his hands into fists. I knew that describing what happened would only make things worse – both for myself and them.

“Doesn’t matter. At the time I had to shower,” I sighed.

Hermione burst into more tears, burying her face in her arms.

“Hermione, please, I appreciate the sentiment, but I’m okay,” I walked over to her and rubbed her back.

“You are not okay! That is the point! Maggie we love you – before this happened you were fierce, you were – you were angry – you never took anyone’s crap. And you know, sometimes you were excessive about it, but that was okay, because we love you, and we didn’t care – but now – you’re subdued. You’re upset frequently. You cry all the time – you never cried before! And it’s just – it would be okay if this was just you mellowing out as you aged, but – but – but,” Hermione sniffled loudly.

I frowned, “Look, I’m still the same person… I just need to get there again.”

Hermione sniffled loudly, “I just don’t like the idea of anyone breaking one of my best friends – of anyone breaking my sister.”

I ran to her and hugged her tightly, “I’m broken, but you lot are patching me up, alright? You are. I’ll always have scars, but there are creams to make scars fade – eventually no one will be able to tell unless they’re looking for it.”

“Okay,” Hermione sniffled softly.

“Let’s talk about something else,” I stated definitively, “So – our revolution –“

“Well, it’s still important for us to talk about the issues, of course, and to raise awareness,” Hermione nodded.

“But…?” Neville asked, looking at her questioningly, leaning on the wall of the room.

“But, right now, think about it – what do we need the most?” Hermione asked.

“Er… toad removal cream?” Harry offered. I snorted with laughter.

“ _No_ ,” Hermione rolled her eyes.

 “An ability to destroy Umbridge’s ‘special quill pen,’” Neville put up sarcastic finger quotation marks over the words.

“I wish, but no,” Hermione shook her head.

“An army of dragons to burn the Ministry to the ground?” I grinned happily.

“Don’t talk like that outside of this room – though that would be good – no,” Hermione shook her head, “No that’s ridiculous – guys what do we _need_.”

“We need… a nickname for our group of friends?” Neville grimaced, “I have some new ones – A Gaggle of Potters – The Granger Guys, I decided that everyone’s last names had to be used for us to find something right – The Johnson Journeymen…”

“Oooh I like that!” I beamed happily.

“No,” Harry looked at me in disbelief, “Come on, you’ve got to be kidding me!”

“It has a nice ring to it!”

“Since when are you the leader? If anyone’s the leader it’s me!” Harry snorted.

“Oh right, yeah, you,” I laughed, “Look, if there is anyone who keeps our little group composed and put together – and _sane_ – it’s Neville.”

Harry looked up in excitement, “The Longbottom Leaders?”

“The Longbottom Four?”

“The Longbottom Losers?” Neville snorted. He rolled his eyes at us.

“Come on guys, don’t be ridiculous, it’s not going to be _my_ name on the team –“

“Oh for the love of Merlin you losers!” Hermione shouted. I looked at her in amusement, barely containing my laughter.

“ _No,_ not a team name! We need _a proper Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher_!”

“Are you going on about bloody O.W.L.s again, ‘Mione, because honestly, all the professors drilled that speech into our brains –“ Harry complained.

“It’s about more than that! I mean obviously we need to pass our Defense O.W.L., but guys, we need to be prepared for what’s out there. It’s exactly what you said in class, Harry,” Hermione was standing up, her hands on the table, “We need to practice – we need to know what’s out there on the other side of this castle – we need to be able to fight! Voldemort is back, and we need to prepare!”

“We’ve spent our whole education preparing,” Harry frowned.

“ _You_ have. You’ve done more than the rest of us – you are the best in our year in Defensive magic –“

“Oh come on, you’ve beaten me on every test,” Harry shook his head in disbelief.

“No, I haven’t,” Hermione frowned, “We’ve only both taking the final exam two years – first year and third year. Second year we got exams off for the chamber; last year you were let off for being a champion. First year, yes, I beat you, but third year you beat me – the only year we had a competent teacher.”

Harry looked at her in shock.

“She’s right, mate. You’re the best,” Neville affirmed.

“Oh come on, you guys were with me for half that stuff –“

“Harry, I was with you the most, but I – I have not done half the stuff you have,” I frowned at him, “You faced Voldemort by yourself first year – you faced all those tasks alone last year – and you went to the Graveyard by yourself…”

“Oh come on – we all went to the Chamber together,” he pointed at Neville and me, “And we did the time turner stuff together!” he pointed at Hermione and me, “And we faced the spiders!” he pointed at me.

“And yet, I’m piss poor at Defense – I only ever get scores in the A range,” I looked at him, pursing my lips together, “So take me out – and then Hermione and Neville haven’t done _nearly_ as much stuff as you have –“

“And I always get A’s too, mate,” Neville nodded.

“And I don’t count for anything, I’m me,” Hermione nodded definitively, “And even _I_ can’t produce a patronus.”

Harry was speechless, looking at the three of us in shock.

“So what do you mean? I’m the best? What does it matter?” Harry stated grumpily.

“It means – you could be our teacher, Harry,” Hermione murmured, “You could teach us.”

Neville looked excited, I grinned widely.

“Yeah! You’d literally be the best – you could tell everyone exactly what it’s like –“

“Oh come off it –“

“You would teach everyone about all the spells – we would help, obviously, but it would have to mostly be you of course – and you could explain what it’s like to face real things in the real world, and demonstrate how to duel – you’re the best in our year at that, too, you know – Harry, you would be _perfect_ ,” Hermione emphasized.

“This is ridiculous – I shouldn’t teach anyone! I’m a nutcase!” Harry shook his head.

“Exactly,” Neville responded calmly, “Harry, you’ve been out there, in the real world. If anyone can tell people what it’s like – if anyone can demonstrate how important it is to actually be trained and ready – it’s you.”

Harry looked at all of us worldlessly, before turning to me, “Sis?”

“You should do it,” I shrugged, looking around in amusement, “Seriously. It would be the best thing that’s happened to this school – and frankly, I think you’d have a good number of people who’d want to learn from you. You heard the Hufflepuffs.”

“Everyone remembers what you did, Harry,” Neville nodded, “Everyone knows you’re the real deal – anyone who says otherwise is afraid of Voldemort, it is that simple.”

Harry was now actually speechless. He sat down on a chair, leaning against the table.

“We could use this room!” Hermione gasped, “We could come in here – I bet it would easily turn into a room for practice – no one would ever know!”

“We’d just have to make sure Umbridge can’t get in!” Neville nodded eagerly, “Close the loopholes –“

“How would we get the world out with out the toad knowing, though?” I asked, “We’d have to be careful –“

“Word of mouth. Mostly in classes – have Sam and Ernie help in the other houses. Claire and Elena will probably be our only Slytherins, but if they hear of anyone who could be sympathetic…” Hermione trailed off in thought.

“We’d really have to be discreet, the woman is already breathing down our necks,” Neville urged.

“We shouldn’t tell any teachers – they’ll say it’s mental – McGonagall would blow a fuse,” I sighed.

“Well they don’t need to know – with us doing this to practice Defense – it’s really a study group, isn’t it? A very… _illegal_ study group, to be sure –“ Hermione laughed.

“There’s technically nothing illegal about it – people form study groups all the time, and there’s no rule that says we can’t practice magic on our own, it’s just in the hag’s class. It’s just… not something that she would react to favorably,” Neville grinned.

“So we just don’t let her know… and we are careful… something we’re good at,” I laughed, “So many years of sneaking around, we can keep doing it, easy…”

“Hold up!”

We all turned to look at Harry.

“I haven’t said I’m on board yet,” Harry shook his head, “Guys, I’m not sure I can teach anyone. You all just learned by being with me in most of those situations… so let me think about it, okay? I just need time to think it over, I’m not saying no yet. Give me like, a week, two, maybe three.”

Hermione nodded mournfully.

“Makes sense,” Neville agreed.

“Take the time you need – it _is_ a big commitment – just know we all have the utmost confidence in you,” I urged.

“Thanks… I’m going to go think,” Harry grabbed his bag and left the room, running his hands nervously through his hair as he left.

“Do you get the feeling there’s more on his mind than just Umbridge?” Neville asked quietly.

“You mean, Voldemort? Not really a surprise,” I snorted. He flicked me in the arm. Hermione groaned in annoyance behind us, muttering something under her breath that was probably another imploring that we just snog already.

“I mean, more than usual,” Neville paused, “I don’t think he’s telling us something.”

“We shouldn’t force anything out of him,” Hermione frowned, “It never goes well.”

“No, but we started this term with a vow of complete honesty – it’s why you’ve been less than discrete of late,” Neville looked at her with a raised eyebrow. She smirked and shrugged nonchalantly.

“He’ll tell us when he tells us… we can’t force him to do anything,” Hermione reaffirmed.

“I just hope he’s okay,” I sighed.

“He’ll be fine,” Hermione responded stiffly, “He has Ginny.”

“Oh come on, Hermione,” Neville groaned.

“I will not come on! When you were in this situation you did not act maturely for at least a month!” Hermione sniffed in an air of pure superiority, “If I recall correctly, longer than that!”

It was so weird to know that they were talking about me, and they knew I knew they were talking about me, and I knew that they knew that I knew they were talking about me, and yet, because of Neville’s and my unspoken agreement that it wasn’t the time to start eating each other’s faces in a romantic manner yet, we didn’t say so.

“Yeah, I was also younger than you,” Neville looked at her in amusement.

“Well I still claim my right to act like that for a little while!” Hermioen snapped, “I don’t like seeing them together! Ginny’s had a crush on him since before she met him – it’s unhealthy idolizing. And frankly, I don’t think she’s _really_ separated her vision of Harry with who Harry really is!”

“Do… any of us actually have an ability to think of a person the way they really are?” I asked shrewdly.

“ _What_?” Hermione asked angrily.

“I mean, the way we perceive everyone – it’s different per person. We all have our perceptions of individuals that are not completely accurate with respect to the individual in question. We only see one side of a cube… there are still six more that we don’t know about. Sure, at some angles we can maybe see three – but you never know everything about someone, you never actually have an idea of ‘who someone really is.’”

“Oh come on, Maggie, I have a better view of the Harry Cube than _Ginny_ does –“

“You can’t know that, you don’t know what they say to each other in their spare time together, you don’t know what they’ve shared or talked about,” I frowned, “I’m not saying I want them to end up together,” I answered Hermione’s furious expression, “I’m saying that if you really cared about Harry, you’d want him to be happy, especially right now when so many things are going wrong for him.”

Hermione’s mouth dropped open in outrage.

“And if he likes Ginny, and they’re having fun, then, well, you don’t really have anything to get truly upset over – so you shouldn’t knock the personality and mindset of one of our closest friends, and you know she is, don’t deny it,” I shook my head, “She’s the unofficial fifth member of the group, she’s been so since she got to this school.”

Hermione closed her mouth, fuming.

“I want my brother to end up with you. I think he will. I think you two have the closeness of a thousand years from all the shit we’ve all been through together, and he should end up with the person who knows him the best and isn’t related to him and he could be attracted to – which is you. But I don’t think he’s in that place yet, and you shouldn’t take it out on Ginny that he’s not in that place yet,” I shrugged, “That’s all.”

Hermione fumed in her seat even more, her arms crossed angrily in front of her chest. Neville looked speechless.

“Well, I can’t help that I’m angry,” Hermione muttered.

“You _can_ help that, that’s not the right emotion,” I stated, “You can do better than that.”

“I can’t help that I’m jealous and heartbroken,” Hermione now mumbled.

“There we go,” I paused, “And I’m sorry that you are. It sucks. It sucks balls. I have been jealous twice in my life. Both times – one moreso than the other – I have felt like a giant snake was writhing in my insides and trying to eat me alive. It’s not a pleasant feeling, it doesn’t go with my personality – or yours – but it’s just something you have to deal with. Just know the feeling, and the reasons behind it, usually don’t last forever.”

Hermione sighed heavily, resting her head in her hands.

“And until that happy day, focus your energies and your passions into the things that are truly important – fighting Voldemort, supporting your friends, and…” I gritted my teeth, “Schoolwork.”

Hermione looked up from her hands and grinned at me.

“Yes, I said that, don’t repeat it,” I rolled my eyes.

“She’s right, Hermione,” Neville finally stated calmly.

“Alright,” Hermione sighed, “Alright.”

“Good,” I paused, “Shall we get back to work?”

The next morning I came down to breakfast before Neville – he was taking longer in the shower than usual, and I had no idea why. Hermione was already there, drinking her coffee and reading one of our Ancinet Runes texts.

“It’s going to be a long week,” Hermione sighed, “We’re learning the Arabic Rune Alphabet – it’s extensive – they literally have a rune for _everything_ …”

“You do realize the ‘they’ in question here includes you?” I snorted. Hermione sighed.

“Fine, _we_ have a rune for _everything_ ,” Hermione groaned, “But I don’t know any of these characters – they aren’t based on the alphabet at all…”

“Well then, good to know the playing field will be leveler than usual,” I snorted loudly. Harry was sitting over with Ginny, the two of them talking eagerly with one another, staring into each other’s eyes like a pair of lovebirds.

“How are you doing with the snake?” I asked Hermione quietly.

“Fine,” she responded, but she certainly didn’t sound like it. Neville walked down then, yawning, barely looking around at his surroundings as he sat next to Hermione and rested his head on her shoulder. It was hilarious to observe, as he was a foot and a half taller than her; him hunched over like that was like something out of a cartoon. He immediately fell asleep on her shoulder, his mouth hanging open as he snored.

“Did he sleep at all last night?” Hermione asked me in pure amusement.

“I thought so,” I frowned, “Maybe its residual tiredness from last week’s hellscape.”

“Maybe,” Hermione agreed. An owl flew by and the _Daily Prophet_ landed in Hermione’s porridge.

“Not again!” she groaned.

“You better clean it off, Hermione, I’m bullocks at charms,” I muttered.

“You wouldn’t be so _bullocks_ if you put the effort in! _Scourgify_!” she waved her wand and the porridge came off of the newspaper. She opened up in annoyance, rolling her eyes at me, nonverbally saying _honestly_.

There was a large photograph of Dolores Umbridge on the cover. I groaned and grabbed the newspaper to read it with Hermione. The action forced Neville off of her shoulder and he landed to the ground with a _thump_ and an “Ow!”

The headline of the paper read _MINISTRY SEEKS EDUCATION REFORM DOLORES UMBRIDGE APPOINTED FIRST-EVER “HIGH INQUISITOR”_

“What the fuck is that?” I asked angrily.

Hermione took the paper from me and read aloud, “In a surprise move last night the Ministry of Magic passed new legislation giving itself an unprecedented level of control at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. ‘The Minister has been growing uneasy about goings-on at Hogwarts for some time,’ said Junior Assistant to the Minister, Percy Weasley. ‘He is now responding to concerns voiced by anxious parents, who feel the school may be moving in a direction they do not approve. This is not the first time in recent weeks Fudge has used new laws to effect improvements at the Wizarding school. As recently as August Educational Decree Twenty-two was passed, to ensure that, in the event of the current headmaster being unable to provide a candidate for a teaching post, the Ministry should select an appropriate person. ‘That’s how Dolores Umbridge came to be appointed to the teaching staff at Hogwarts,’ said Weasley last night. ‘Dumbledore couldn’t find anyone, so the Minister put in Umbridge and of course, she’s been an immediate success –“

Neville roared in outrage, “ _SUCCESS? WHAT?_ ”

“Be quiet, she could hear you!” Hermione hissed, “Thee’s more.”

“An immediate success, totally revolutionizing the teaching of Defense Against the Dark Arts and providing the Minister with on-the-ground feedback about what’s really happening at Hogwarts. It is this last function that the Ministry has now formalized with the passing of Educational Decree Twenty-three, which creates the new position of ‘Hogwarts High Inquisitor.’ ‘This is an exciting new phase in the Minister’s plan to get to grips with what some are calling the “falling standards” at Hogwarts,’ said Weasley. ‘The Inquisitor will have powers to inspect her fellow educators and make sure that they are coming up to scratch. Professor Umbridge has been offered this position in addition to her own teaching post, and we are delighted to say that she has accepted.’ The Ministry’s new moves have received enthusiastic support from parents of students at Hogwarts. ‘I feel much easier in my mind now that I know that Dumbledore is being subjected to fair and objective evaluation,’ said Mr. Lucius Malfoy, 41, speaking from his Wiltshire mansion last night. ‘Many of us with our children’s best interests at heart have been concerned about some of Dumbledore’s eccentric decisions in the last few years and will be glad to know that the Ministry is keeping an eye on the situation.’ Among those ‘eccentric decisions’ are undoubtedly the controversial staff appointments previously described in this newspaper, which have included the hiring of werewolf Remus Lupin, half-giant Rubeus Hagrid, and delusional ex-Auror ‘Mad-Eye’ Moody. Rumors abound, of course, that Albus Dumbledore, once Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards and Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, is no longer up to the task of managing the prestigious school of Hogwarts. ‘I think the appointment of the Inquisitor is a first step toward ensuring that Hogwarts has a headmaster in whom we can all repose confidence,’ said a Ministry insider last night. Wizengamot elders Griselda Marchbanks and Tiberius Ogden have resigned in protest at the introduction of the post of Inquisitor to Hogwarts. ‘Hogwarts is a school, not an outpost of Cornelius Fudge’s office,’ said Madam Marchbanks. ‘This is a further disgusting attempt to discredit Albus Dumbledore.’ (For a full account of Madam Marchbanks’ alleged links to subversive goblin groups, turn to page 17.”

Hemrione looked at us in anger.

“So now we know how we ended up with Umbridge! Fudge passed this ‘Educational Decree’ and forced her on us! And now he’s given her the power to inspect other teachers! I _cannot_ believe this, it’s _outrageous_ ,” Hermione shrieked.

“Well, look at it this way, Mione,” Neville paused, grabbing the paper and standing up, “She’s going to have to inspect _Snape_. And _McGonagall_.” He walked up and gave the paper to Harry, clearly pointing out the article.

Hermione had a serene smile on her face.

“McGonagall getting inspected? It’s like a dream,” she gasped.

“Mabye Snape could get sacked,” I grinned.

“Oh, that won’t happen – Umbridge isn’t likely to stick up for Neville or harry any time stoon. Still… it’ll be fun to watch,” Hermione laughed.

“I’m just confused how she got this power so quickly. She’s only been here a week! What could have possibly happened to make the Ministry think this necessary?” I asked.

“Maybe the teachers have been fighting back more than we thought…” Hermione frowned, “Maybe she was unrealistic in how disloyal she thought the staff was.”

“Serves her right, thinking that everyone buys the Ministry’s bull,” I nodded in satisfaction, “I hope every inspection goes crappy for her. I hope she has the worst time of it.”

“Me too,” Hermione smiled, “But let’s be a bit quieter about that, yeah?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” I groaned, “I just want her the _fuck_ out of here.”

“We can only hope that the Curse of Defense Against the Dark Arts is real, and she will be gone within the academic year,” Hermione nodded, digging back into her porridge.

We went off to Binns’ class, and it was as boring as ever, with no Umbridge inspecting it. She was also not in Potions class, where we got back our essays – mine had an A scrawled in the corner, but Harry’s, sadly, had a D. I only could shudder at the thought of Neville’s grade; when I looked over at him, though, he seemed fairly calm. Hermione was beaming; I could clearly see the letter _O_ on her paper.

“I have awarded you the grades you would ahv ereceived if you presented this work in your O.W.L.,” Snape smirked, “This should give you a realistic idea of what toe xpect in your examination.”

He walked up to the front of the room, “The general standard of this homework was abysmal. Most of you would have failed had this been your examination. I expect to see a great deal more effort for this week’s essay on the various varieties of venom antidotes, or I shall have to start handing out detentions ot those dunces who get D’s.”

Harry groaned quietly next to me. I gently patted him on the shoulder as Malfoy laughed, “Some people got _D’s_? Ha!”

I quickly copied down the poition insturctions as Snape put it up before everyone started brewing; I did it in shorthand again, and passed the paper over to Neville. He grinned at me and gave me a thumb’s up; Harry looked at me incredulously for not doing the same for him.

“Look, we’re partners, I’ll just _tell_ you,” I rolled my eyes. Harry sighed and nodded. We conducted the lesson effortless and Harry managed to make his Strengthening Solution to be a light blue, as was mine; Hermione’s was the proper turquoise, and Neville’s actually was dark blue, which was an amazing miracle that I clapped over as we left the classroom.

Hermione and I then had Runes, which was not inspected either; Sam was relieved to say that none of his lessons had been inspected yet, and he was happily avoiding the toad wherever possible.

“We have an idea, by the way. To save our bacon,” I nodded at Sam.

“This should be good,” he smirked, as we opened our rune dictionaries.

“Look, we just have an idea to fix the Defense problem, okay? We’re still formulating it, and we need Harry to get on board –“

“You’re going to ask Harry to teach everyone Defense,” Sam whispered very softly, almost imperceptibly. I looked at him in shock.

“I’m in Ravenclaw for a reason. Well I’m in, and I’m sure I can get plenty of others in, too, provided you get our teacher,” Sam nodded.

“You two – stop talking about this here – and read your runes,” Hermione scolded.

Sam looked at me in bemusement, “Has she… forgotten that I’m not in your weird little family?”

I shrugged, “She’s Hermione. If she cares about you, she’ll scold you.”

Sam groaned loudly and buried his face in his book.

We went up to Umbridge’s class after that, a moment I was dreading with every cell in my body. Still, I sat down, preparing myself to read quietly – I wasn’t going to risk getting locked up again. Neville seemed to have the same thought; he already had his book out and was reading. He didn’t want me to see it, but I knew that whenever he looked at his hand, he would start crying. He was doing it now; his hand was clearly visible as he held open the book, and I could see tears appearing in the base of his eyes.

I reached over and kissed him softly on the cheek again; he looked at me appreciatively for a moment before resting his forehead on mine for a long period of time.

“Oh for the love of Merlin!” Hermione groaned.

“Shove off,” Neville croaked, turning back to his book. Harry walked in, looking tense.

“She just inspected Divination,” he muttered, “It went terribly.”

“Oh no,” Hermione sighed.

Umbridge soon followed Harry; she went to the front of the room and smiled at everyone.

“I would like you all to turn to page nineteen today and commence chapter two, ‘Common Defensive Theories and Their Derivation.’ There will be no need to talk.”

She smiled widely and sat down at her desk. I groaned softly to myself and got to reading, but Hermione had raised her hand in the air.

 _Oh no, Hermione_ , I thought sadly.

“What is it this time, Miss Granger?” Umbridge asked angrily, walking up to Hermione’s desk and peering directly into her face.

“I’ve already read chapter two,” Hermione explained.

“Well, then, proceed to chapter three.”

“I’ve read that too. I’ve read the whole book.”

Umbridge briefly looked shocked before continuing, “Well, then you should be able to tell me what Slinkhard says about counterjinkes in chapter fifteen.”

“He says that coutnerjinxes are improperly named,” Hermione responded, “He says ‘coutnerjinx’ is just a name people give their jinxes when they want to make them sound more acceptable. But I disagree.”

Umbridge, who had briefly looked impressed, now looked furious.

“You disagree?”

“Yes, I do,’ Hermione paused, “Mr. Slinkhard doesn’t like jinxes, does he? But I think they can be very useful when they’re used defensively.”

“Oh you do, do you? Well I’m afraid it is Mr. Slinkhard’s opinion, and not yours, that matters within this classroom, Miss Granger,” Umbridge stated firmly.

“Can you explain more?” I asked quietly. I couldn’t help myself. Everyone looked at me in shock and Neville groaned quietly.

“Explain more – how do you mean, Miss Johnson?”

“I mean, explain more,” I paused, “You haven’t taught us at all since we’ve started. I know that you love this book, but teaching typically involves getting up in front of a class, explaining the textbook, adding your own thoughts and points that you think are important – I’m not even saying you need to demonstrate defensive magic, I’m saying a lecture would be neat.”

The entire class watched in silence. Umbridge looked at me coldly.

“It is the Ministry’s belief that the textbook will be enough –“

“Then why not just let us not come to class?” I asked, “Let us read the book on our own, like Hermione. Then you can save yourself the unpleasantness of explaining to us how we’re wrong every class.”

“It is the policy of the Ministry that I be present to answer any questions –“

“So then you admit that you have things to add to the book? Clarifications and explanations that aren’t present to answer students’ questions for them?” I nodded, “That means you could lecture.”

Umbridge looked furious; I had trapped her in a problem she had not predicted she would have to answer.

“Five points form Gryffindor, Miss Johnson!” she finally spluttered out, “I would remind you that I alone know how to be a good teacher in this room!”

“That’s not true,” I frowned, “Neville and I have been training to be professors for years, now.”

The class looked at us in surprise.

“Well then, Miss Johnson, would you like to demonstrate how to be a professor for me?” Umbridge smiled sweetly.

“I’m still training, I think I’m good,” I frowned.

“Miss Johnson, I asked a request of you, and I am your professor,” Umbridge smiled wider.

“Fine,” I got up and went to the front of the room, my heart pounding loudly, “What would you like me to teach?”

“Oh, anything you like,” Umbridge continued to leer at me. I decided to teach about something inoffensive.

“So, dinosaurs,” I began calmly, “We all know what they are, right? Well, okay, maybe not all of us – dinosaurs were large animals that lived from approximately two hundred and fifty million years ago to the present. See, plenty of research has come to light that indicates birds are in fact modern representatives of this group –“ I then launched into a lecture that I had apparently already written in my head, explaining everything about dinosaurian cladistics, groups, feathers, and birds. When I finished, I smiled at everyone. Most everyone had their mouths open in shock – Ron, Harry, Hermione, and Neville, however, were grinning.

“Any questions?” I asked, smiling still.

“Yeah – have they found feathered non-bird dinosaur fossils?” Dean asked curiously.

“That’s enough!” Umbridged yelled. I looked at her patiently.

“Yes?”

“You have proved your point, Miss Johnson. Sit _down_ ,” she ordered. I went and sat, waiting while grimacing for the detention.

“Get back to reading! All of you!” she screeched. I pulled out my book, my fingers trembling with fear – but she made no move to punish me more.

“I _like_ the new Maggie,” Neville laughed quietly. I grinned happily, but I couldn’t get my fingers to stop shaking.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment you guys! You are all lovely people! And don't forget - Team Potter needs a name, and Harry needs a nickname!


	59. Chapter Fifty - Eight: September 9 - 14, 1995, Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Draw blood, paint life, sculpt that clay, build that bridge 
> 
> (Suffer and pleasure) 
> 
> Got love, gotta write that way and filled that book from the gutter to forever 
> 
> But we're still going to suffer 
> 
> We got burnt 
> 
> We met our match and struck first 
> 
> Suckers should have known better 
> 
> Than to let us head our own 
> 
> Search and destroy 
> 
> You would've been better centered at home." 
> 
> ~ Doomtree, "Team the Best Team."

Chapter 58: September 9 – September 14, 1995, Hogwarts

Neville’s second round of detentions with Umbridge started that evening, and I waited for him anxiously in our room, studying my books heavily. I wanted to be able to actually talk about the Slinkhard book with Hermione in Umbridge’s class, and back her up in her criticisms. I was terrified, but I had to do _something;_ I couldn’t just sit there and let everything happen.

Eventually the door opened; Neville walked in, looking shaken. I ran to him and held him very tightly in my arms.

“What happened?” I asked nervously.

“Nothing,” he muttered quietly, “I’m going to go to bed now.”

“Nev…” I whispered. He went into the bathroom and closed the door behind him. I sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for him, staring intently at the door for him to come back out. He walked out dressed in his pajamas and looked at me for a short time before frowning.

“Can I go to bed now, please?” he asked softly.

“I insist that you tell me what happened,” I responded equally softly.

“I won’t,” Neville frowned, “Good night.”

“No!” I shouted now, standing up and holding him back, “Neville, you have to tell me, okay?”

“Why do I have to?” Neville muttered.

“Because I’ve told you literally everything about me – everything that has happened to me – and if I haven’t in words, it’s because the timing isn’t right,” I whispered, “You _know_ that.”

Neville looked at me desperately, “The timing isn’t right?”

“The timing isn’t right,” I repeated quietly.

He walked up to me and gently reached out to stroke my hair – it was almost time for bed, and I had removed my ponytail, so it was all over the place. I sighed and smiled at him, looking up at him with as reassuring of a face as I could muster, wrapping my arms around his waist tightly. His hand slipped to cup the side of my head underneath my hair, and he looked at me so intensely that I could feel my heart pounding uncontrollably in my chest.

He pressed his forehead into mine and his nose was touching mine and I could feel his breath on my mouth and I could barely think straight and the only thought that could come into my head was _please kiss me please kiss me please kiss me please kiss me_ –

“Not the right time,” he agreed mournfully, his voice husky and low, his eyes looking sadly into mine. I swallowed heavily and frowned – I had really wanted him to kiss me…

He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me into a long, tight hug. I sighed heavily and held him back just as tightly, trying to come off of the ledge that I had just edged towards. I had wanted it so much, though…

My mind seemed to be drawing a blank as Neville pulled back from the hug. He looked at me strangely – I must have had an odd look on my face.

“What’s wrong?” he asked worriedly, his voice returning to something normal.

“N-nothing,” I mumbled, “I just… really wish it were time,” my voice was so quiet I could barely hear it coming out of my mouth.

Neville smiled sadly, “Me too.” I rested my head on his chest for a minute before looking at him earnestly, “What’s wrong?”

Neville sighed heavily and sat down on the bed. I followed suit, curling up next to him on his chest again, looking up at him and waiting for him to talk.

“Umbridge got to me today. I didn’t react much… I managed to keep my head. But she kept saying some pretty… horrible things, trying to get me to break. At one point she tried to convince me to stop being your friend,” Neville sighed, “But I didn’t fall for her bull. It was still upsetting. She then… tried to get me to say out loud that I’m a boy itsnotabigdeal.”

I looked at Neville in horrified shock, “She _what_?”

“Yeah,” Neville paused, “Whatever.”

“Did she succeed?” I looked into his eyes and held his face in my hands.

Neville looked down at his hands, tears coming into his eyes now.

“Nev?” I whispered, horrified.

“Y-yeah,” Neville mumbled soflty, “I’m going to bed.” He crawled under the covers and pulled them over his head. I followed him quickly, joining him underneath the sheets and looking at him earnestly in the dark.

“You are not a boy,” I insisted.

He scoffed loudly. I couldn’t see his face as it was so dark. I reached in the darkness, fumbling around with my hand, looking for his – I definitely brushed against something I wasn’t supposed to – before finding it and holding it. Neville’s breathing grew much, much louder, and staggered.

“You aren’t. You have no gender. Your existence transcends the boundaries of societal perception and categorization,” I grinned in the dark, though I knew he couldn’t see, “You don’t fit into one label, you don’t _have_ a label, and you don’t need one. Labels are for suckers who let the world tell them who they are and what they’re allowed to do and who they’re allowed to be. And you don’t have to worry about that bitch – no matter what she gets you to say or do, that’s not going to change.”

Neville tugged on my hand; I moved up to where I figured his face was and looked at him.

“Thank you,” he breathed.

“You are welcome,” I nodded in the dark, “Can we get out from under here now?” The air was getting quite stale.

“I think so,” he mumbled softly. We both emerged from underneath the blanket, him looking at me with dilated pupils again. I wrapped my arms tightly around his stomach.

“You are _not_ a boy,” I murmured quietly. Neville sobbed loudly and rested his face in my hair, tears pouring out of his eyes and into it. I continued to hold him tightly for a long time, well into the night, until eventually his tears slowed down and I could tell he was sleeping – he was snoring against my head. I chuckled softly and closed my eyes, allowing myself to get sleep as well.

The next day Neville and I walked down to breakfast together, our hands not intertwined but so close together that they might as well have been. I could feel his fingers brush against the top of my hand.

 _I really hope it’s time soon_.

We sat at the table and Hermione looked at us with a frown, her bacon stopped halfway in its journey towards her mouth.

“What’s with you two?” she asked shrewdly.

“Neville had a bad detention yesterday,” I commented softly, “Umbridge was particularly hateful.”

“Oh Nev,” Hermione sighed sadly.

Neville shrugged, muttering softly to himself.

“I think we just need to, first off, keep reinforcing his gender identity in conversation, and second off, keeping his mind off of it as much as possible,” I paused, “I think that’s the only way we can help him out.”

“Alright,” Hermione nodded, “Well, I’ve come up with some new names –“

“Oh lord,” I groaned loudly.

“And I really think these could be some winners. There’s the Gryffin _four_ –“

“Fuck no,” Neville snorted, causing me to burst into uncontrollable laughter.

“Then I thought of some names that have to do with Dumbledore. There’s the Dumble Dorks, the Dumbledore’s Four, the Dumbledore Revolutionaries –“

“Any of those names is going to get us sent straight to detention with Dolores,” I smirked heavily.

Hermione sighed, “Well then I came up with some group names, you know, how animals have – there’s a Murder of Potters… A Gaggle of Grangers… a Legion of Longbottoms… A Peck of Potters… a Jive of Johnsons…”

“Those are all terrible,” Harry greeted, sitting down with us, “How’s it going everyone?”

“Oh fine,” Hermione sighed, “We can’t figure out a name.”

“What else is new?” Harry snorted, “I came over to sit with you lot today because frankly I know I’ve been spending too much time with Gin.”

Hermione mouthed ‘Gin’ to herself in horror.

“It’s okay Harry, we haven’t been up to anything interesting,” I reassured.

“Good,” Harry paused, “I’m glad I don’t have detention again this week. I’m not sure Alicia would be able to take the stress.”

“You ready to go out and fly with Cormac?” Neville asked, frowning.

“God no, but I have to don’t i?” Harry paused, “Have you heard from Uncle Nathaniel, Maggie? Angelina really needs the help.”

“I haven’t, but I feel like I would by today,” I reassured. We watched the post owls together eagerly – but nothing came for me.

“Maybe tomorrow,” Hermione soothed. I sighed heavily.

“How is Angelina, anyway? I never see her,” I frowned.

“It’s because she doesn’t want you to see her,” Harry muttered softly.

“What?” I asked in surprise.

“She put the cruciatus curse on you – regardless of whether or not it was her fault, she feels responsible. She told me that she can’t really face looking you in the eye,” Harry explained, “I don’t really know what you could do about that – you could reassure her that no harm came of it, but is that actually true? Some of your flashbacks feature that moment.”

“Yeah,” I muttered mournfully.

“You just have to give it some more time, and then approach her. I think if you explained honestly what happened – but reinforced that it wasn’t her fault – it would help,” Harry finished, grabbing some fruit.

“I can do that,” I agreed, “Speaking of Johnsons I haven’t seen…”

“Oh?” Harry frowned.

“How’s Elena been? Has anyone seen her around?” I hissed softly, looking over at the Slytherin table and seeing no sign.

“She spends all of her time in the library – it’s the safest place for her and Claire. That would be why you don’t see her,” Hermione explained, “I’ve seen her a few times, she seems fine.”

“Oh good,” I sighed.

“She hates Umbridge, too, but she’s been able to hold her tongue,” Hermione smirked.

“You didn’t hold yours either!” Neville snorted.

“Well, no,” Hermione rolled her eyes. Harry had turned to Ron next to him, and they were both discussing something involving Divination – Trelawny’s inspection had gone terribly, and it looked like she would be sacked.

“Ray?” Neville frowned. Hermione snorted.

“He is _not_ a Ray,” she shook her head.

“I think we should all just accept that Harry is Harry and there is no other option,” I groaned quietly.

“Well that’s ridiculous,” Hermione sighed, “There _has_ to be something?”

“Pot?” Neville grinned cheekily.

“You know, I think we should get him some, I hear it really calms anxiety,” I suggested.

“It’s not as bad as other things, either – when I looked up that stuff on drugs PTSD folk use to cope I hoped that you were on pot and not, well, things like what you were on,” Neville nodded.

“I don’t know any dealers nearby, but Shae is here now, I bet we could get her to get some….”

“How could Harry get away with smoking pot in the Common Room, though? He’d have to go outside, and then he attracks more attention to himself – and pot _does_ make you paranoid…” Neville frowned.

“Oh for the love of Merlin, we aren’t getting Harry pot!” Hermione shouted. Harry looked back over at us with the biggest smirk on his face.

“Mione, why you have to ruin a good time?”

Neville and I grinned together and Hermione groaned in exasperation.

“We should get to Charms, come on,” Hermione urged. We all left the Great Hall together and went up to class, hoping that there wouldn’t be an inspection – and there wasn’t. It wasn’t too bad, but I still wasn’t anywhere up to snuff.

We walked up to Transfiguration, however, and Professor Umbridge was there. It was like seeing a demon. I felt my heart pound loudly in my chest but I held my head high, nodding furtively at Neville to do the same. He did, and he took his seat next to Harry, who smiled grimly at him. Hermione looked at me in worry but I was trying to containe my grin – seeing McGonagall and Umbridge have it out would be a _treat_.

Professor McGonagall came inside the room and didn’t even acknowledge the Umbitch.

“Mr. Finnigan, kindly come here and hand back the homework – Miss Brown, please take this box of mice and hand one to each student,” McGonagall explained immediately, still not acknowledging the other professor in the room. She looked at me and smiled slightly, nearly imperceptibly (I could only really tell, in the end, due to years of close proximity with her,) and I grinned happily back.

 _God I love this woman_ , I thought joyfully.

“ _Hem, hem,_ ” Umbridge said in the back of the room, her little cough of evil grating on every one of my nerves. Seamus handed me my essay and I happily saw the little _O_ at the top; Hermione also had the same grade, which was a wee bit annoying. I privately hoped that at least Harry and Neville had passed.

“Right then, everyone, listen closely – Dean Thomas, if you do that to the mouse again I shall put you in detention – most of you have now successfully vanished your snails and even those who were left with a certain amount of shell have the gist of the spell. Today we shall be –“

“ _Hem, hem_ ,” Umbridge repeated. I growled very softly, digging my fingernails into my desk.

“ _Yes_?” McGonagall looked at Umbridge with the sternest expression I had ever seen on her face – her mouth was so thin it almost disappeared, and her eyebrows were narrowed so close together they seemed to be just one long, angry line. It was a comforting feeling to know that I was on the side of that stare, rather than the receiving end.  

“I was just wondering, Professor, whether you received my note telling you of ht edate and tiem of your inspec –“

“Obviously I received it, or I would have asked what you are droing in my classroom,” McGonagall responded brusquely, “As I was saying, today we shall be practicing the altogether more difficult vanishment of mice. Now, the Vanishing Spell –“

“ _Hem hem!_ ”

“I wonder,” McGonagall stated coldly, turning again to Umbridge, “How you expect to gai an idea of my usual teaching methods if you continue to interrupt me? You see, I do not generally permit people to talk when I am talking.”

Professor Umbrdige looked like she has just been slapped – I quickly turned away so I could smile wider than I had since before June. McGonagall smirked imperceptibly at me again as the smile stretched from one side of my mouth to the other. Umbridge appeared to be scribbling furiously behind me, but I knew that McGonagall would be fine.

“As I was saying, the Vanishing Spell becomes more difficult with the complexity of the animal to be vanishd. The snail, as a gastropod mollusk – thank you for the book, by the way, Miss Johnson – does not present much of a challenge; the mouse, as a mammalian chordate, offers a much greater one. This is not, therefore, magic you can accomplish with your mind on your dinner. So – you know the incantation, let me see what you can do…”

I waved my wand and muttered softly – I had done this on _specific, targeted portions_ of a bird; I could do a whole mouse. And so I did; the mouse vanished immediately and I grinned to myself. McGonagall smiled at me and gestured to the whole class; she hardly ever praised my work anymore, as she thought it unfair to the other students, but maybe the presence of Umbridge was leading her to be a little more defensive of me (and hopefully my mates) than usual.

“Look, class, Miss Johnson has accomplished this on the first try once again – I would like to point out that you can ask her questions about the spell and any other transfigurations we attempt this year at any point. I can verify that her knowledge is both detailed and wide. Miss Johnson, if you would like to work on your other projects, that would be fine,” McGonagall smiled. I grinned at her and took out my diagrams, sketching eagerly the feather patterns again.

Hermione, not one to let me show her up _too_ much, managed to vanish her mouse on the third try.

“Maggie?” Neville asked sadly behind me, “Can you help?”

I turned around and looked at Harry and Neville; neither of whom had even made their mice look a shade paler. I sighed and started explaining the application of the spell to them, the mindset needed behind the incantation, and the anantomy involved when it came to a mouse. Neville was scribbling down notes, as was Harry, and both had brows furrowed in concentration.

Umbridge, meanwhile, was sitting in the corner of the room, taking many notes during the class.

“Longbottom, Mr. Potter, perhaps you would like to try out the spells now, rather than receive a private lecture?” McGonagall asked, though she was smiling slightly. I flushed madly.

“She’s a good teacher, Professor – not as good as you, but still,” Harry grinned cheekily.

“Well then show me that the two of us have managed to make dents in those skulls of yours,” McGonagall rolled her eyes.

“ _Hem hem_ ,” Umbridge coughed again as Neville raised his wand. McGonagall turned to look at her, her face immediately back to its pure rage from earlier.

“ _Yes_ , Professor Umbridge?” McGonagall almost snapped.

“I believe the proper form of address of a student is both their title and their surname. So, you should address Mr. Longbottom as _Mr._ Longbottom from now on,” Umbridge explained, her voice sickly sweet.

“I will not,” McGonagall retorted, “Longbottom is not a _mister_. He does not have a gender.”

“There is no such thing as a person without –“

“Yes, there is, he’s sitting right in front of me,” McGonagall insisted, “I would ask that you refrain from traumatizing a student in my classroom. I’ve done some research of my own, and msigendering an individual can cause depression, anxiety, and severe mental health problems. Now, Longbottom,” she turned to Neville, a look of hope in her eyes, “Would you like to demonstrate what Miss Johnson has taught you?” Umbridge looked so outraged it was hilarious, and she was scribbling furiously on her clipboard.

Neville nodded, looking brave and terrified all at the same time. He briefly looked down at his hand, gritted his teeth tightly, and waved his wand. The mouse’s tail, head, and legs all vanished – all that was left was the body.

“Look! Look at that! I never do anything like that so quickly!” Neville gasped in shock.

McGonagall smiled wider, “Good job, Longbottom. Five points to Gryffindor. Now, Mr. Potter, would you like to try as well?”

Harry grimaced, waving his wand. The same thing happened to his mouse, though the butt-end portion of the tail appeared to still be visible.

“Five more points to Gryffindor, and ten points to Gryffindor to Miss Johnson for her expert teaching skills,” McGonagall smiled again and I grinned so wide I felt my face would fall off. McGonagall went back to sweeping around the room, though many students looked over at me as though to come and ask me questions. I went back to my sketches as Harry and Neville kept work at their mice behind me; Hermione snorted in amusement as she read her transfiguration textbook.

Neville and Harry had both managed to leave only half of the body of their mice left by the end of class, and I had finished my more detailed wing feather diagrams. We all left the classroom as Umbridge approached McGonagall’s desk; we hung back outside the door to listen, all peering eagerly.

“How long have you been teaching at Hogwarts?” Umbridge asked.

“Thirty-nine years this December,” McGonagall answered brusquely. There was scratching of quill on parchment.

“Very well,” Umbridge paused, “You will receive the results of your inspection in ten days’ time.”

“I can hardly wait,” McGonagall answered indifferently. The four of us walked away from the door quickly, McGonagall now following us. Neville turned to McGonagall, tears in his eyes.

“Thank you,” he whispered quietly. McGonagall nodded, a small smile on her face.

“it probably won’t end your troubles, but I’m happy to help in any way I can, Longbottom,” she reassured, “Now get to your next class, you four.”

We scurried on down to Care of Magical Creatures, where apparently, Umbridge also had to be. At the very least, we wouldn’t have to see her take down Hagrid. I looked at her in complete, cold hatred, before turning towards the bowtruckles still in the wood. Neville looked at me nervously and I shook my head at him in reassurance.

“You do not usually take this class, is that correct?” Umbridge asked Professor Grubbly-Plank.

“Quite correct,” Grubbly-Plank answered, “I am a substitute teacher standing in for Professor Hagrid.”

I was never gladder that the Slytherins had dropped the class; I could only imagine in horror what they could be doing right now to negatively influence Umbridge’s opinion of Hagrid further than it already probably was. I looked at Neville and he frowned with me, grabbing a bowtruckle to sketch in greater detail.

“Hmm,” Umbridge paued, “I wonder – the headmaster seems strangely reluctant to give me any information on the matter – can _you_ tell me what is causing Professor Hagrid’s very extended leave of absence?”

I felt my fists close tightly against my hands; Neville gripped one and gently pried it open, looking at me earnestly.

“’Fraid I can’t,” Grubbly-Plank answered calmly, “Don’t know anything more about it than you do. Got an owl from Dumbledore, would I like a couple of weeks teaching work, accepted – that’s as much as I know. Well… shall I get started then?”

“Yes, please do,” Umbridge responded, scribbling on her clipboard. Grubbly-Plank ordered us to keep work on the bowtruckles, and Neville and I tried to make ourselves look inconspicuous as Umbridge wandered amongst the students, asking us questions on magical creatures. Everyone seemed relatively abile to answer the questions at hand; no one was letting Hagrid down. She walked up to Neville and me, and I could feel him tense up next to me – frankly, _I_ was tense.

“Miss Johnson, how would you describe the appearance of a hippogriff?” Umbridge asked stiffly.

“It has the front legs, wings, and head of a giant eagle and the body, hind legs, and tail of a horse,” I responded calmly, “It resembles and is a close relative of the Griffin, which has a lion rear instead of a horse one. Hippogriffs have steel-coloured, sharp beaks and large, very orange eyes. They have half a foot long talons on their front legs and are fairly deadly. They typically range in color between greys, whites, browns, and reddish-orange colors.”

Umbridge frowned, making a note on her clipboard, “And how does one typically approach a Hippogriff?”

“Humbly – hippogriffs are proud and easily offended. You have to approach one slowly and bow to them before coming anywhere near it. When you bow, you have to wait and see if the hippogriff bows in return – and you have to maintain eye contact with it the entire time you’re doing this. If the hippogriff doesn’t bow, then you get out of there before it can attack you. If it does bow, however, you can approach it and even pet it, even ride it in some cases,” I continued, “If you manage to gain their trust, they are often fiercely loyal and protective companions.”

Umbridge made another angry scribble, “And how would you describe their diet and behavior outside of wizard contact?”

“Mostly insects, birds, and small mammals. They will sometimes paw at the ground for worms if they can’t find anything else. When they breed, they build nests on the ground and lay only one egg – it’s usually very fragile. The egg hatches in twenty-four hours, and infant hippogriffs are capable of flight within a week, but it takes months before they can accompany their parents,” I explained.

Umbridge looked annoyed that I had answered her questions correctly, “And you learned this under Professor Hagrid, correct?”

“Yes, third year,” I nodded, “He explained all of this our first lesson.”

Umbridge made another furious scribble, “But I hear there were injuries in this class? Due to hippogriffs?”

“A student called a hippogriff stupid and ugly,” I paused, “Something that Professor Hagrid specifically told us not to do – disrespect it. The hippogriff reacted like hippogriffs do, and slashed the student. Professor Hagrid immediately took the student to the hospital wing, and the hippogriff was restrained.”

Umbridge’s eyes narrowed and she continued to write notes furiously, but moved away from me towards Grubbly-Plank. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

“Overall, how do you, as a temporary member of staff – an objective outsider, I suppose you might say – how do you find Hogwarts? Do you feel you receive enough support from the school management?” Umbridge asked immediately.

“Oh, yes, Dumbeldore’s excellent,” Grubbly-Plank responded enthusiastically, “No, I’m very happy with the way things are run, very happy indeed.”

Umbridge looked skeptical, making another note on her clipboard, “And what are you planning to cover with this class this year – assuming, of course, that Professor Hagrid does not return?”

“Oh, I’ll take them through the creatures that most often come up in O.W.L. Not much left to do, they’ve studied unicorns and nifflers, I thought we’d cover porlocks and kneazles, make sure they can recognize crups and knarls, you know…” Grubbly-Plank explained.

“Well, _you_ seem to know what you’re doing, at any rate,” Umbridge responded tertly. I glared angrily but bit the inside of my mouth to keep from talking.

“Well, thank you very much, Professor Grubbly-Plank. I think that’s all I need here. You will be receiving the results of your inspection within ten days.”

“Jolly good,” Grubbly-Plank responded, and Umbridge left up to the castle. I sighed, looking mournfully over at Hagrid’s cabin – I could only hope that he would be back soon, and able to keep his head around a woman that clearly had it in for him.

That evening, I quickly went to McGonagall’s office, eager to finally put into practice the notes I had scribbled out over the past few days. McGonagall seemed to have bene waiting for me; she smiled slightly at me when I entered and motioned for me to write out everything I had done.

“We should do this in the classroom, I need _way_ more blackboards,” I held up my notes to show her and she sighed.

“Merlin, Maggie,” she shook her head, “Alright.” We walked to the next door and entered the classroom, and I set my notes down on a desk and got to work, writing out every diagram and logical deduction down that I could, scribbling out flowcharts between different types of spells and anatomical models, and writing down equatiosn and complex cladisitc trees before finally turning back to McGonagall. I was covered in chalkdust and every blackboard in her room – and the walls were literally lined with them – was covered completely in notes.

“Alright, summarize this for me,” McGonagall shook her head in bemusement.

“Well, I reasoned that the switching spells could be used to track gene mutations – and then from there I deduced that I could use a complex combination of cross species switches to attempt to go _across_ the family try and reach animals that do not have extant descendents – complex because, as you can see here, I have to try to figure out exactly what these animals were like with only bones to go on – but the combination of the deduced gene mutations over time from the switching spells and then utilizing conjuring spells in conjunction in order to resurrect genes lost to deletion and not to mutation, doing a very powerful cross-species switch should yield,” I ran around to the end of the blackboards, leaping over a desk to do so, “ _Velociraptor mongoliensis_.”

“ _Velociraptor_?” McGonagall asked, looking at my detailed diagram of _Velociraptor’s_ known bone structure and then various hypothetical stages of its anatomy, “The equations seem right, but I’m not familiar with the anatomy to verify that portion.”

“Oh I know, which is why I have a book for _you_ ,” I grinned, handing her a textbook on dinosaurian anatomy, “I want you to double, _triple_ check my work here. Make sure I didn’t make a mistake – a single mistake, and we could end up with something that never existed, thinking it was _Velociraptor_ – or something else that _did_ exist, and was worse.”

“Such as?” McGonagall asked sternly.

“Well – one of _Velociraptor_ ’s close cousins was _Utahraptor_ , which was about… three times as big,” I grimaced, “I wouldn’t want to face one of those, but it wouldn’t take many mistakes in the cross species switches and in the conjuring spells on the genes to create _that_ instead of _this_ ,” I pointed to _Velociraptor_.

“Yes,” McGonagall agreed, “Alright. I will give this a read over in the next few days. I will let you know when I am ready to proceed; I will gather some birds as quickly as possible, and we can hold the animals in my office – you won’t need as much space for them as you did to write about your idea.”

“No, I won’t,” I agreed, “But we really shouldn’t permanently keep them in cages – they aren’t small animals, though they’re smaller than public belief.”

“I will look into some sort of pen,” McGonagall acknowledged, “But first, let’s see if we can do this.”

“Agreed,” I beamed, “Anything else?”

“No, excellent work, I will see you soon,” McGonagall had grabbed the book and was taking it back to read. I practically skipped out of her office and went back to my room to work on my real homework; when Neville returned from detention, he was still very upset – Umbridge’s abuse was not letting up – but at least, he wasted no time in talking about it.

The next morning at breakfast, Darwin swooped down and greeted me with a letter on my plate, sitting on my shoulder deftly. I gave him a piece of bacon as I eagerly opened the letter, reading my dad’s handwriting immediately,

_Dear Maggie,_

_I will happily come up to Hogwarts to speak to Harry’s friend. It is truly awful what happened to her – and I understand completely the guilt and terror she msut be feeling. You were right in contacting me; I think if anyone can help her through what she is going through, it would be me._

_The only hurdle is, of course, the new professor hired. I believe that you know how she would feel about a parent coming up to the school. Still, I am working on getting permission. I also will happily see you, your sister, and Harry, of course; it is important to keep in contact in these troubling times._

_I hope you’re doing better._

_Love,_

_Dad_

I breathed a sigh of relief and shoved the letter at Harry, who read it and grinned happily.

“We should be good, then,” Harry laughed, “I’m sure Uncle Nathaniel can get permission to get up here at some point – and then Angelina can finally talk to someone!”

“Yeah,” I smiled, “That’ll be good.”

And the rest of the week managed to pass without much incident – though Neville was still in tears every night, and I had to help him calm down enough to go to sleep. I also kept having nightmares about getting locked up in rooms, but it was always easier once I woke up and found Neville next to me. Harry and Ginny were always in each other’s company, and Hermione was usually patrolling the halls alone, a sight that made me feel so guilty I could barely bare it. Still, the Common Room was not my favorite place, and we couldn’t be in the Room of Requirement _all_ the time.

That weekend, I went out and greeted Shae at the front entrance of the castle. She was draped in a cloak, clearly trying to hide her own appearance.

“I have somewhere we can go,” I muttered soflty, “Follow me, and be discrete.”

We walked up through the castle, going through more secret passages than I had entered through all year, until we reached the seventh floor undetected. We then went to the spot where the Room was usually located, and I opened up a perfect practice room, hurrying her inside. The room was much more open than it was when it was a study space – there were cushions along the sides of the room to serve as padding, and just open padded flooring on which to fight. I looked at her, beaming.

“Your school is insane,” Shae commented, looking around the room in amazement.

“It tends to be, yeah,” I laughed, “So what are these martial arts like?”

“It’s complex, and unites dragon skill and agility with magic,” Shae paused, “it’s going to be very hard to learn in a short period of time.”

“I’m ready,” I nodded firmly and decisively.

“I don’t question this, but I need you to understand that you have a lot of work ahead of you. You have a lot of running around, a lot of jumping, and a lot of learning how to anticipate the movement of your opponent ahead of you. You also should learn a whole new brand of magic that, frankly, I’m shit at, so I would recommend finding another teacher,” Shae admitted.

“What? But you’re my only teacher – how could – “ I stammered, terrified.

“This is not specific to dragons,” Shae shook her head, “it is a style of magic utilized with Dracudo in order to have the most efficient and deadly fighting style known.”

“What kind of magic?” I asked, “And who could teach me?”

“I am sure there are many at your school who know it – or at least a few. Have you heard of elementalism?” Shae asked.

“Yeah… it’s manipulating the four magical elements with your hands, without a wand, and without spells,” I frowned, “I didn’t know it could really be used to fight extensively.”

“Elemental magic was the law of the land for most of human history,” Shae explained, “Soon, wizards started combining the elements and performing more complex magic with them. They wanted shortcuts to do this more efficiently – so they would package up all these ideas in spells, which they then could only perform by using a wand – sort of a shorthand way of doing all the elemental steps to a spell. Also, you can use the elements with your feet as well as your hands – very important to know, as in Dracudo, fighting with the elements requires both.”

“I haven’t ever seen it used in fighting – well, only very briefly,” I admitted, “Professor McGonagall used air, I think, to fight this dick who was teaching us second year…”

“I would talk to her. Elementalism is used extensively in Europe and Africa to invent new spells,” Shae paused, “In Asia and the Americas, it’s really only used as a fighting style. We do duel with wands, of course, but dragons and things involving them tend to get… primal, and it’s easier to use elemental magic, since wands aren’t required.”

“Can I begin learning Dracudo without knowing this, yet?” I asked nervously.

“Yes, but again, it won’t be fully effective against other Halflings and Riders – but that’s not who you’re fighting yet. You have some time,” Shae paused, “Now, lift your hands in the air.”

I did so, mimicking her pose, putting my palms up and my hands as straight as boards. She then spent the rest of the day critiquing me on my stance, constantly poking an dprodding at different portions of my body, getting me to move them and hold them in just the right space. I barely even moved at all that first day; by the time we were done for the day, I felt more sore than I had in years.

“Well, that’ll do for the day. We’ll meet up again tomorrow, we have to actually start working on other stances,” Shae shook her head sadly, “This is going to take a lot of work.”

I groaned, “I already have so much to do –“

“Yes, and this will directly save your life. Now, get going – I can find my way out on my own,” she waved her wand and suddenly, she disappeared – well, sort of. She really blended into the wall; it was as though she was no longer reflecting light.

“Disillusionment charm,” Shae explained, “I’ll be fine as long as I’m quiet.”

“Neat,” I responded, frowning as Shae – not visible – made the wall seem to move ever so slightly as she walked in front of it. I escorted her out of the room and watched in amusement as the moving bit of the scenery and surroundings walked down the stairs.

I knew that McGonagall already did way too much for me, but I was going to have to ask for something else. I was going to have to ask her to teach me elementalism.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I basically spent the whole day at the zoo with my fronds, one of whom promised she would read my story faster (Taryn, if you're reading this, I'm proud of you). As such, I didn't have much time to write tonight - this will probably be the only chapter of the evening. I will continue writing until I can't keep my eyes open anymore, but I doubt I'll be able to crap out another 6,000 words before that happens. Sorry!!! I'll try to update three times tomorrow to make up for it! 
> 
> Please comment! I really love comments that analyze things and deconstruct what's happening - or even provides guesses or excitement over the events. They make me so excited to write! Thank you all for being lovely readers! 
> 
> [The song for this chapter I actually usually use when I'm imagining scenes from book 7... true story, but it fit better here. The last four lines in the lyrics above correspond to one of the Potter Four doing a thing... you'll see :)]


	60. Chapter Fifty - Nine: September 15 - 30, 1995, Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You know where to find me 
> 
> For no particular reason 
> 
> For stop traffic behavior 
> 
> Or to get something off your chest 
> 
> Cause we got a long way back 
> 
> Back to nothing at all 
> 
> Mmmmm 
> 
> Be still with me... 
> 
> Heart lungs soul 
> 
> Arteries and all 
> 
> A shoulder at the ready 
> 
> Vital organs on call 
> 
> Don't mistake my charity 
> 
> For what it is 
> 
> A deep need to be needed necessary 
> 
> Don't mistake my open arms 
> 
> For what they are 
> 
> They can turn on you." 
> 
> ~ Imogen Heap, "You Know Where To Find Me".

Chapter 59: September 15 – September 30, 1995, Hogwarts

It took me a whole day for me to work up the courage to approach McGonagall. I didn’t even know if I was really supposed to know about elementalism – I only knew because of Gran, and Gran wasn’t even a fan of the practice. However, working with Shae again – and working on more stances and poses depending on the situation at hand (who my opponent was, what kind of magic they may use or not use, even what pose _they_ were in, provided they also were using Dracudo) made me physically and mentally exhausted. Shae was not a kind teacher – though she was at least kind to me as a person outside of instructing me on what to do.

So, sore all over and just exhausted from a long day of training, I managed to heave myself up to McGonagall’s office. I knocked, wincing and rubbing my arm. She opened the door and frowned at me.

“Miss Johnson, I said I would come and talk to you when I was done with my verification of your research…” McGonagall frowned, “And why are you dressed in that ridiculous outfit?”

I was wearing a tank top, short athletic shorts, and trainers. I definitely looked out of place in the middle of northern Scotland, but I needed to have freedom of movement – and I was decidedly sweating all over, anyway.

“Long story… but it’s why I’m here. Can I come in?” I asked softly. McGonagall nodded, moving aside and letting me through into her office. I swung my arms around in their shoulder sockets, trying to get them to loosen up.

“So you know that Dumbledore let in another Halfing to teach me, right? I’m assuming he told you,” I began, leaning down to stretch out my legs now.

“Yes – and he said that she arrived safely,” McGonagall acknowledged.

“Yeah, well, she’s training me in this weird martial art form that is unique to Halflings and dragon riders,” I paused, “only we can do it because we have mystical dragon abilities or sommat.”

“I’ve heard of weirder things,” McGonagall acknowledged, “Well that explains the clothing.”

“Yeah,” I grunted in annoyance as my back continued to feel like it was twisted in knots no matter how many times I rotated around, “Well, it’s more complicated than that.”

“Oh?”

“A major portion of this martial art is the use of elementalism as a weapomn,” I stated calmly, looking at her intensely.

McGonagall’s mouth pressed into a thin line.

“I’ve only ever used elementalism as a spell-invention tool… only a few times as a weapon, and certainly not as though I were practicing a martial art,” McGonagall frowned.

“Yeah, well at least you can use it. The martial art bit Shae’s going to take care of,” I reassured.

“Still, I do not know if I can teach you,” McGonagall shook her head.

“Why not?” I demanded angrily, my hands threatening to ball up into fists.

“Because it is not taught s a weapon here at Hogwarts. When elementalism is instructed to students, it is in the context of a class we offer to sixth and seventh years on how to invent spells,” McGonagall paused, “It is a very intensive, exclusive course.”

“Well, then, if I learn the basics, at least, I could apply it – could I take this class next year?” I asked hurriedly.

“I do not know,” McGonagall frowned.

“Why not?” I felt hurt – if anyone should be showing faith in me, it was her.

“You are one of the most brilliant transfiguration students we’ve ever seen at this school, apart from perhaps myself and Dumbledore,” McGonagall paused, “Under normal circumstances, you would already be admitted to the course next year, before even receiving your O.W.L. results.”

“But…?” I asked, feeling my heart sink.

“Typically, students who excel at transfiguration do not… do as poorly as you in charms,” McGonagall explained.

I groaned, “Oh.”

“Yes, _oh_ ,” McGonagall paused, “Now, I’ve actually been fighting for about a year with Professor Flitwick to let you into the class. Most of the class is transfiguration… but elementalism is a lot more like charms. You would need to at the very least _pass_ your charms O.W.L. in order to be considered for the class – if you do, I can make your case, and I probably will be able to get you in.”

I sighed heavily. All my charms grades had been, at most, a P.

“Also, since elementalism is much more like charms than it is like transfiguration when utilized for purposes other than spell-weaving, I worry that the subject matter itself will be very difficult for you,” McGonagall frowned.

“But I need to learn it!” I blurted out before I could stop myself, “Professor, I need to be able to do this – in order to fight – in order to use my powers correctly…”

“Then you’re really going to need to get better at charms,” McGonagall shook her head, “It is _that simple,_ Maggie. You need to practice extensively this year to get your charms up to snuff. Next year, I can help you with the elementalism – but you really need to have this first step taken care of. You really have about five years worth of charms to play catch-up with… you’ve _barely_ passed _every year_.”

I groaned in embarrassment, but nodded.

“How should I do this? Should I go to Flitwick?” I asked dejectedly.

“No no – we want to keep your Halfling concerns on a need to know basis with everyone, regardless of their spot in the Order,” McGonagall paused, “I will have to teach you – I am very good at charms, Miss Johnson, I believe I will be plenty able to.”

I sighed heavily.

“I know that this is not what you wanted to hear, but it is what you have to do,” McGonagall paused, “And I’ll _make sure_ that you get there.”

“Okay,” I agreed, “How are we going to juggle this on top of my research?”

“You have plenty of time when I’m verifying your work to practice your charms. I think we just need to go back to basics – get your spellbook from year one, start studying it extensively. We can talk again about it tomorrow,” McGonagall declared fiercely.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” I grumbled, leaving the room slowly. This wasn’t exactly what I had wanted to hear – I never wanted to hear that I needed to really get my act together in charms. Still, she was right – I really had to do it; I didn’t have a choice.

So, I spent that afternoon borded up in my room, away from the others, forcing myself to read my _Standard Book of Spells: Grade 1_ until it was coming out of my ears.

When Neville came in that evening, he looked surprised to see me doing so.

“Why do you reckon,” I asked, not wanting to talk about it yet, “You lot got the hand cut treatment from the Umbitch, but I got jail time?”

“I don’t know,” Neville frowned, “I have some ideas, though.”

“Such as?” I asked, sighing and closing the textbook.

“Well, the three of us all have major things that, in the eyes of Umbridge, are character flaws – ideas about ourselves that she wants us to get rid of,” Neville paused, “She wants Harry to, well in her eyes, stop lying; she wants Hermione to stop talking back in class and acting like she knows more than Umbridge; and she wants me to accept that, at least according to her, I’m a… male person.”

“Yes, but I’m just as much of a twat in her eyes as you lot,” I frowned.

“Exactly – you’re _more_ so. She could have you write hundreds of different things with that quill – that scientific research through transfiguration wasn’t useful, that Voldemort wasn’t back, that Hagrid and Lupin are monsters – but there is no _one thing_ that sticks out above all the rest for her, like the rest of us. So what does she do?” Neville asked hypothetically.

“Lock me in a room?” I frowned.

“She chooses to _break your spirit_. She pinpointed our three methods of rebellion against her – me against her rigid worldview, Hermione against her hubristic confidence, and Harry against her blind loyalty to the Ministry and ignorance of reality – but _everything you do_ is a direct rebellion against that bitch. So she can’t just target one thing – she has to try and destroy every bit of rebellion inside of you in order to take you down,” Neville explained.

“That…” I paused, my brow furrowed, “Makes a lot of sense.”

“I mean, none of these things worked,” Neville shrugged, “I’m still pretty convinced of my lack of gender, Hermione still is forcing her to acknowledge truth and logic in her class, even if she doesn’t do so verbally, and Harry is still maintaining that Voldy-pants is back. And you still are as rebellious as ever,” Neville grinned.

“I do my best,” I smiled weakly.

“So why the charms?” Neville asked.

“Oh lord, this is a long story – are you mentally up for that?” I asked. Neville laughed loudly.

“I’m _always_ up for that,” he sat down next to me on the bed, angled so that part of him was behind me, his arm wrapping around my shoulder. His thumb gently rubbed against my arm and I sighed softly.

“Well, okay, I think I’ve briefly touched on how Europe and America have pretty different research interests when it comes to transfiguration, right?” I asked. He nodded, the side of his head resting against the side of mine, so when he moved it I could feel his prickly stubble rub against my cheek.

“You said that in America they do the same kind of thing you’re doing – aiding in scientific research,” Neville said, “Erm… and in Europe you said they make new spells?”

“Yes,” I responded, “Do you remember how I said they do that?”

“Not really,” Neville admitted sheepishly.

“It’s called elementalism – from what I gather, it’s the manipulation of the four magical elements – water, earth, air, and fire – with one’s hands and apparently feet to do things they wouldn’t normally do. Apparently these manipulations can be combined together extremely fast to create spells – a wand sort of summarizes all the manipulations of the elements into a neat spell like the kind we’re familiar with. You don’t always need to use words with spells, but they make the intent of the combination of elements clear to the wand, causing the magic to happen,” I paused, “So by combining elements together in new ways – and finding the correct way to summarize them into a spell – you create new spells.”

“And that’s what McGonagall does?” Neville asked. I nodded; his stubble prickled me again. I loved the feeling and probably nodded a little too long.

“Well, elementalism isn’t _just_ used to make new spells… it also can be used to fight,” I continued, “In fact, in the Americas and Asia, that’s what they use it for – its Europeans, Australians I think, and Africans who use it for spellweaving. But there’s this whole stile of fighting with the elements that is used heavily over in America.”

“And… you have to learn it?” Neville asked.

“Yeah. It’s a huge part of the dragon martial arts I’m learning. Not a _necessary_ part when I’m just fighting against non-riders and non-Halflings, but the moment I face one of those I would be screwed… also it’s just a powerful addition to the martial art and a necessary one. So I need to learn it, eventually,” I sighed.

“So… charms?” Neville continued.

“Well, it’s not _actually_ a dragon-only skill. It’s something all wixen can do… and it’s heavily tied to how good you are at charms,” I groaned.

“Oh dear,” Neville sighed sympathetically, “So you have to actually figure out how to do charms.”

“Exactly,” I nodded sadly, “So McGonagall, who knows at least how to manipulate the elements, is going to help me with charms. Hogwarts actually has a spellweaving class, but you have to get top marks in transfiguration – for the spellweaving part – _and_ charms – for the elementalism part. Sh’es actually been fighting with Flitwick to let me into the class since last year… she’s gotten him to agree to think about it as long as I pass my charms O.W.L.”

Neville nodded, “Well, I do alright in charms. I get E’s on most everything. I’ll help.”

“Thank you, Nev,” I mumbled softly, “I really appreciate it.”

“Of course,” Neville reassured, pausing for a long while, “So elementalism… it’s not really transfiguration, you said? Mostly charms?”

“Yes,” I nodded absentmindedly. I had returned to reading the spellbook as carefully as I could.

“So… if you’re good at charms… you should be good at it,” Neville continued.

“Yup,” I agreed, focusing on the theory behind _Windgardium leviosa_.

“So… would I be able to learn it?” he asked quietly. I looked up at him in surprise.

“Why would you want to?”

“I think it would be a useful thing to be able to do,” Neville shrugged, “I mean think about it – fighting without having a wand? It essentially makes _Expelliarmus_ useless…”

“You have a point,” I paused, “I’ll ask McGonagall to teach you when I start to learn, if you want.”

“That would be cool,” Neville grinned, “Thanks.”

I went back to reading, feeling my face flush as Neville kissed me on the cheek again and turned away to read something of his own.

So, now, in essence, my schedule was utterly and completely packed. I had to spend every night with McGonagall – except Wednesdays, when I had double Astronomy and she let me off the hook. I would spend Monday doing both research and remedial charms with her; Tuesday we’d focus on the research; Thursday we’d do both; Friday we’d focus on charms; Saturday we’d focus on the research; and Sunday we’d focus on the charms. Then every Saturday and Sunday morning I literally went from Breakfast to Lunch practicing with Shae. I still had some breaks during each day, but they were infrequent and, frankly, much too short. I was up late every night – especially Thursday night, when I’d have work with McGonagall _and_ Astronomy – getting the piles of homework I had done. In fact, I had taken to sleeping in on Friday, since I didn’t have class until ten thirty in the morning. I lived for those hours Saturday and Sunday afternoon in which I could do whatever I wanted – which usually involved studying charms until it fell out of my ears in liquid form.

“It serves you right for not trying to keep up beyond the bare minimum since first year,” Hermione scolded Sunday the twenty-second as we all sat in the Room of Requirement, doing our homework. I was focusing on _Standard Book of Spells, Grade Two_ today, as first year charms I had managed to understand over the course of five years of study, at least, I understood them well enough to not need to focus on them. Neville was studying transfiguration, inspired by his performance in the class previously to continue riding that wave of confidence to a decent O.W.L. grade. Hermione, having found out about the spellweaving class and immediately gasping about how unbelievably useful that would be, was now studying both transfiguration and charms so hard it made Neville and I annoyed – of _course she would be let into that class_. Harry, meanwhile, was just as swamped as I was with Quidditch practice – and so he was just trying to catch up on homework, rather than study ahead of time. He had had three dates with Ginny at this point, and they were looking fairly serious – though how they managed to date with all the homework we had, I didn’t know.

“Look, Hermione, I’m not _you_. Yeah, I’m smart, but I’m not good at _everything_ ,” I rolled my eyes in annoyance, “I really struggled with charms from class one and I figured I wouldn’t really need to know it beyond the O.W.L. level.”

“Will you continue with the subject if you manage to get an E?” Hermione asked sharply, her eyes stern.

“And, in one of many moments such as this, we are reminded that Hermione and McGonagall are kindred spirits,” Harry commented lightly. Hermione flicked a piece of parchment at him; it landed in his ear and he shouted in surprise.

“I dunno, Hermione. Charms for me is like pulling teeth,” I sighed heavily, “I really don’t think I will.”

“You should, if you’re going to teach transfiguration,” she muttered, looking at her book, “The two spells _do_ cross over into each other, and you’ll need to be able to explain charms to explain transfiguration.”

I groaned at the top of my lungs – she had a point.

“Maybe I’ll get an A and it won’t matter,” I muttered hopefully to myself.

“You want to get an E so Flitwick will have no _choice_ to let you into the class. You know this isn’t about you – Flitwick _likes_ you fine, this isn’t Harry trying to get into N.E.W.T. potions – but if you get that E, McGonagall won’t have to fight for you. Wouldn’t you like to make her life easier?” Hermione snapped, “After all she’s done for you?”

“Yes, yes I would,” I admitted, “Which is why I am not going to purposefully sabotauge myself. I’ll study as hard as I can and try to get that E.”

“I sense a ‘but’ coming after that sentence,” Hermione frowned.

“Well, it means I’m going to have to slack on something else – and since I _know_ I don’t need to know potions to do what I want to do, it’s going to have to be that,” I sighed heavily, “Sorry, Hermione.”

“That’s fair,” she responded brusquely, “Honestly, potions at the N.E.W.T level is mostly complex mixtures that aren’t particularly practical, anyway.”

“I’ve also come to terms with the fact that I’ll probably flunk history,” I muttered very quietly.

After a long pause, Harry responded, “Me too.”

“Yeah,” Neville nodded. Hermione groaned, but didn’t say anything about it.

“The Defense Squad?” Hermione asked after a while.

“Nah,” Harry frowned, “I think we should try to keep it free of any… words that could raise red flags for the Ministry.”

“That’s fair,” Hermione sighed, “I’m running out of ideas.”

“I refuse for us to be called Team Potter!” Harry practically shouted, smashing his fist on the table, “I refuse to have that be my legacy!”

Neville snorted with laughter and Harry glared at him.

“Fantastic Four?” I asked curiously.

“We aren’t a superhero team!” Harry snorted.

“Er…” Hermione frowned, pursing her lips together.

“We aren’t?” Neville laughed. Harry frowned for a long time before shaking his head madly.

“We are normal humans!”

“We’re _wixen_ ,” I shook my head, “We are not normal.”

“Well… erm… we aren’t superheros!” Harry insisted.

“We are heros, though,” Hermione poined out.

“And we’re _super_ human,” I furthered.

“Ergo, superheros,” Neville concluded. Harry groaned in disgust.

“Well we aren’t the Fantastic Four!” he insisted, looking back at his book.

“I still say Potter Pals is valid,” Neville muttered.

“The _alliteration!_ ” I yelled, “It’s the worst thing I’ve ever heard!”

“Oi!” but Neville was grinning as he protested.

“Team Potter is just the way it has to be, gents,” Hermione sniggered.

“But it’s so bad!” Harry moaned.

“Team Johnson? Team Granger? Team Longbottom? Team Dumbledore? Potter at least is the best of those,” Hermione shook her head.

“What if we made an acronym of our names?” I asked.

“All of our names start with consonants!” Hermione sighed, “I already thought of that.”

“Erm… our middle names?” I frowned, “Natalie.”

“Jean,” Hermione responded.

“James,” Harry noded.

Hermione and I looked over at Neville with a smirk. Harry looked at the both of us in confusion as Neville glared at us for a long, drawn-out minute.

“Archibald,” he finally muttered. Harry burst into roaring laughter as Neville got up and physically smacked him in the arm.

“Shut up!”

“Janj?” Hermione frowned, “Does that even _mean_ anything?”

“This is hopeless,” I groaned.

“The first _two_ letters of all our names?” Neville suggested desperately, “Ma, Ne, He, Ha?”

“You literally just sounded like someone having a stroke!” I giggled.

“Hemahane?” Hermione frowned, “That sounds like someone failing horribly at saying my name.”

“Sounds like Ron saying your name when his mouth is filled with food,” Harry snorted.

“Oh god, it does, we’re never repeating that one –“

“Dragon Gang?” Neville tentatively said, “For Maggie’s special powers.”

“I’m not the leader!” I insisted.

“Yeah, but you definitely have the coolest skill,” Harry snorted.

“ _You can produce a patronus!_ ”

“Dragon Lightening!” Hermione stated before that fight could continue, looking eager, “For both of you!”

“And then what about you and Neville, huh? Why don’t you get to be a part of the name?” I frowned at her.

“Dragon… Lightening… Book…. Plant?” Neville suggested with a sly grin, causing Hermione to burst into giggles.

“The Misfit Brigade,” Harry sat up rapidly in his seat as he said this, as though he had just come up with this idea.

“Potter Pack!”

“Maggie’s Mob!”

“Hermione’s Hoarde!”

“Neville’s… nexus?”

“Potter flock!”

“Okay who took out a dictionary and started looking up words that meant groups of people?” Neville demanded. We all turned and saw Hermione sheepishly holding up a dictionary.

“Intervention!” Harry laughed.

“Nooo!” Hermione shrieked, running away from him around the Room of Requirement.

“Neville’s _nexus_? Are you bloody _mental_?” Neville laughed as they continued to sprint around the perimeter. Hermione was _surprisingly_ fast.

“She’s lost all the marbles. All of them,” I shook my head in bemusement.

“Come on Hermione! It’s for your own good! You can’t look up everything in books!” Harry shouted, just within reach of Hermione – he reached out like he was trying to grab the snitch. Hermione shrieked and dove, quickly turning around and running in the opposite direction. Harry roared in frustration and continued to chase her as Neville and I sat at the table and watched with fascination.

“This is a real problem, though, we can’t come up with a name for our possee,” Neville muttered.

“No,” I answered immediately and he groaned.

“Trouble Troope!” Neville grinned eagerly and I shook my head again. Hermione had now climbed on top of the couch to reach a ledge on the ceiling, from which Harry could not grab her.

“Terrifying Tribe?” I frowned. Neville shook his head again as Hermione leapt from her stoop and continued running away from Harry, who groaned in exhaustion.

“We could just go with _the_ Squad,” Neville suggested. I shook my head as Hermione, laughing madly, stood triumphant over an exhausted Harry lying on the floor.

“I wouldn’t feel comfortable doing that unironically, though,” I pursed my lips together. Harry was now pouting in a corner as Hermione returned to sit with us, thumbing through the dictionary.

“Are any of our team names really _serious_?” Neville snorted, “They’re all ironic.”

“Potter Society?” Hermione suggested. I shook my head in disagreement.

“Rabble Rousers?” Neville chortled.

“Oh for the love of Merlin –“ Harry shouted in his corner.

“You’re on a time out for trying to stop me!” Hermione shouted, “No talking!”

Harry grumbled more and turned back to his corner. I giggled uncontrollably.

“The Potter Element?” Hermione continued, thumbing through the dictionary.

“Ehhhh,” Neville grimaced.

 “The Potter Bunch!” I proposed. They both shook their head in disagreement.

“I hate that show,” Hermione muttered angrily.

“Sorry,” I laughed.

“The Trouble Makers,” Neville wiggled his eyebrows. Hermione raised her eyebrow and thought about it, as did I. It had a nice ring to it.

“That _could_ work,” I agreed after a minute.

“Let’s let it sit in our brains for a bit,” Hermione agreed, “Harry, you alright with that being a tentative idea?”

Harry opened his mouth but Hermione cut him off, “No no, you’re not allowed to talk, remember?”

Harry glared furiously at her and flicked her off; Neville and I roared with laughter as Hermione grew the most affronted look on her face I had ever seen.

“Come on, let’s get back to work,” I managed to gasp out between laughs. Neville was clutching his side with mirth and Hermione glared at us, though it was a futile attempt to get us to calm down. I reached over and rested my head on her shoulder, looking up at her with a pouty face, and she sighed.

“Fine, fine,” she rolled her eyes, pushing me off her. I grinned and opened my charms book again. We continued to study together in silence – Harry now was allowed to leave the corner and returned to his seat, only grumbling for a few minutes before studying himself. He opened up his copy of _Asiatic Anti-Venoms_ , staring seriously at the page. I could feel my brain getting fuzzy with all the charms and groaned quietly.

“Harry,” Hermione said after a while. He looked up at her with a frown.

“Yeah?”

“I was just wondering… if you had given any more thought to Defense Against the Dark Arts.”

“How could I not be? That horrible woman teaching us, can’t forget it,” Harry grumbled in annoyance.

“I mean the idea I had… about you teaching us, about that being our… rebellion group,” Hermione clarified.

Harry paused for a long time, still apparently reading his book. Neville and I had both put ours down, and were staring at him intently. Harry’s brow was furrowed, and he was clearly deep in thought.

“Well,” Harry began tentatively, “Yeah, I… I’ve thought about it a bit.”

“And?” Hermione furthered eagerly, leaning forward in her seat.

“I dunno,” Harry paused, looking at me.

“It’s a brilliant idea, bro,” I nodded eagerly. Harry frowned at me, shifting uncomfortably. He looked over at Neville.

“Seriously, one of Hermione’s best, and we all know that’s saying something,” Neville agreed, smiling encouragingly at Harry. Harry groaned softly.

“You do realize a lot of it was luck, right?”

“Yes,” Hermione nodded, “But all the same, ther’es no point pretending that you’re not good at Defense, because you are. You were the only person last year who could trow off the Imperius Curse completely, you can produce a Patronus, you can do all sorts of stuff that full-grown wizards can’t. You know, I talked to Matteo sometimes –“

“You did?” I asked in surprise.

“Maggie, you really are a dunce at noticing the personal relationships of people around you,” Hermione snorted, “Yes, we talked occasionally, because frankly I reminded him of… of Zoe,” Hermione finally sighed, “He met me because of Harry at one of the tasks and would occasionally talk to me when we ran into each other in the corridors.”

We all frowned at each other mournfully at the mention of Zoe. I had only known her for _literally_ an hour or so, but she still had made an impression on me as someone I would liked to have known better.

“Anyway, he always said Harry knew how to do things that even he didn’t, and he was in the final year at Beauxbatons,” Hermione continued.

Harry frowned again, “He did say that to me, too.”

“Well, what do you think? Will you teach us?” Hermione asked eagerly. Harry shifted in his seat again.

“And it wouldn’t just be the Trouble Makers?” Harry muttered, “It would be a lot of people, right?”

“Well… that is the idea,” Hermione admitted softly, “I mean, we _all_ need a good Defense teacher, and it would make a good springboard for our rebellion group, if we ever were in a place where we could do it…”

“Couldn’t we just have… I dunno… our peripheral friends?” Harry asked, almost beggingly, “I mean like, Ron, Luna, Sam, Fred, Ginny, Claire, Elena…”

“George?” I offered, raising my eyebrows. Neville dropped his textbook in shock; it landed on his foot and he howled in pain. Hermione gasped loudly at my saying his name. Harry immediately hissed angrily, his hands curling up into fists.

“Merlin, guys, he’s not _Voldemort_ ,” I rolled my eyes.

“Of course he wouldn’t be invited!” Harry snarled.

“Harry,” I looked at him calmly, “Remember my whole thing about how I’m not ready to confront him about it yet?”

“Yes,” he muttered begrudgingly.

“How would it look if we invited Fred but not George?” I asked calmly. Saying his name was surprisingly not difficult.

“Bad,” Harry admitted, “But what if we just invited neither of them?”

“And invited Ron and Ginny? No,” I frowned, “Also, Fred has a right to learn this stuff. We all need to know it in order to fight Voldy-pants.”

“So then… how would we deal with George?” Hermione asked kindly. I looked at her in amusement.

“He’s a lot easier to ignore the more people there are around,” I pointed out.

“So…” Harry frowned in confusion. Neville was still wincing in pain; I reached over and gently stroked his arm. Hermione rolled her eyes.

“So, we need lots of people. Outside our periphery group,” I shrugged, “We need to take in Ernie – maybe talk to Valerie – have Sam and Luna round up more Ravenclaws – that sort of thing.”

Harry sighed heavily, “That would be easier for everyone…”

“Exactly. And then, more people get to learn,” I nodded fiercely.

“Just one problem. Apart from some select people we’re aware of, everyone reckons I’m an nutter,” Harry frowned.

“You’d be surprised how many people want to hear what you have to say, Harry,” Hermione shook her head, “I think between us, Sam, and Ernie, we can get the word out. Seriously.”

“Alright,” Harry sighed, “It’s worth a shot.”

“Good,” Hermione beamed in excitement, “We should have them all meet here – it’s the perfect secret location, no one will ever know.”

“Why do we need to make sure no one knows?” Neville asked, frowning.

“Do you really think that Umbridge will be happy if she hears about this?” Hermione snorted.

Neville paused for a minute in embarrassment, “No.”

“Exactly. Let’s talk to people and have us all congregate here – we could do it weekend after next,” Hermione offered.

“Only one problem, it’s a Hogsmeade weekend,” Neville frowned, “Everyone will want to be out there…”

“Which is why we’ll do it _not_ on Saturday. Sunday is fine,” Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Fine, but how we’ll we get everyone in here?” Harry muttered, “We want to keep the room secret.”

“We could… take people up in groups,” Hermione frowned.

“Yeah, we explain how to use the room only to a few people – Sam, Ernie, Elena, et cetera – and then those people can bring the others into the room,” I nodded.

“We can explain how the room works to everyone once we know they’re all on our side,” Neville agreed, “Till then, we should have secrecy.”

“Fine,” Harry groaned, “So when do we start this quest for members?”

“Today,” Hermione nodded decisevly, “I’ll start making the rounds. You all should too, of course,” Hermione paused, “Keeping it all relatively quiet, and doing it outside of the earshot or reach of Umbridge.”

“Shouldn’t be too difficult, ‘s long as we don’t go running around the tables in the Great Hall,” Neville shrugged.

“Well that’s settled then,” Hermione nodded, putting her book in her bag, “I’m going to go try to run down Elena and Claire in the library.”

I looked at my watch; it was almost dinner time. I sighed.

“I should go to dinner now. I have remedial with McGonagall this evening. I won’t be much help tracking down folks anyway, I can’t go to the library _or_ the Common Room,” I grunted in annoyance.

“I’ll look around,” Neville offered, “Don’t worry about it.”

“I’ll talk to Ginny,” Harry stood up, “I want to make sure she’d be on board.”

“Of course she would be,” Neville rolled his eyes, “How long have you met her?”

“I _know_ , but I still have to _ask_ , she is my girlfriend,” Harry shook his head in bemusement, “See you lot later, I’m sure.” He left the room, Hermione still managing to keep a normal facial expression until he left, the door closing behind him.

“ _Girlfriend_?” she moaned sadly, burying her face in her hands. Neville and I looked at each other worldlessly. I literally had no idea what to say.

Remedial charms was, once again, a terrible experience. Still, I managed to get through it, and was making some progress. I was also starting to understand it on some level, at least in part. Still, pulling teeth was in fact an apt metaphor for the situation; McGonagall had never been so frustrated with me in her entire life.

I went down to breakfast and sat across from Hermione, who was reading the _Daily Prophet_. She didn’t say anything, so I assumed there wasn’t much in the way of bad news. I grabbed scrambled eggs, looking forward to literally nothing about the day – it was, after all, Monday, the day of the terrible classes all lined up one after the other in some sort of terrible attempt at torturing me.

“I managed to run into Claire and Elena yesterday,” Hermione suddenly said. I jumped slightly in my spot in surprise.

“And?” I asked curiously.

“They’re definitely in,” Hermione paused, “They don’t know of any other Slytherins who they think would join, though.”

“Well that was really a lost cause from the beginning,” I shrugged, “We should talk to Sam today, obviously.”

“Oh of course,” Hermione nodded, “And Ernie – we _will_ be in Ancient Runes, after all.”

“Sounds like a plan,” I agreed.

“I think Harry should really try to talk to people in Divination,” Hermione frowned, “But he probably won’t.”

“In his defense, Lavender and Siobhan are staples in that class,” I rolled my eyes.

“True,” Hermione sighed, “I really hate them.”

“Me too,” I agreed, nodding.

Hermione let out another sigh, “Not as much as I hate a certain person, though.”

“Hermione, he’s getting invited,” I stated calmly, “It would cause more trouble for him not to be invited than for him to be there.”

“But you _still_ can barely be around him –“

“Yeah, and there will be hopefully a gaggle of people around me to keep us separate,” I rolled my eyes, “Hermione, he has to come. End of story.”

Hermione grumbled in annoyance and returned to her paper. I got up, walking back towards my room, having realized I had forgotten extra ink – I was running low and I really needed as much as I could get in Runes. I continued walking up the stairs when suddenly I felt my arm being grabbed.

I looked up and saw George there; I shrieked in surprise and horror, essentially chopping his hand off my arm with my own hand, slicing against his wrist extremely fast. He yelled in pain, clutching his wrist and falling back from me, nearly falling down the stairs. I felt zero remorse.

“What the bloody hell was that for?” he shouted angrily.

“You just grabbed me out of nowhere!” I shrieked furiously, my heart pounding loudly in my ears with terror.

“I wanted to talk to you! You’ve been avoiding me ever since we broke up!” George roared.

“Yeah, it’s not exactly hard to comprehend!” I screamed. He glared at me furiously.

“I thought we could _try_ to be friends –“

“Yeah, well you were wrong!” I said seethingly.

“What did I _do?_ ”

Those words were like kinves to my heart; I swallowed heavily and balled my hands into fists.

“The _fact_ that you do not _know_ is _exactly_ why I do not want to talk about this,” I spat out before I could stop myself.

“What –“

“No, George, I’m not fucking telling you,” I hissed, “Now leave me alone, or I won’t _just_ smash your wrist.” I left, stomping up the rest of the stairs and rushing to my room before hurriedly closing the door behind me. Neville wasn’t there; I must have just missed him. Now that I was safe in my room, all the fear I had bottled up during the conversation was released; I slid against the door to sit on the floor, shaking so furiously I might as well have been naked in Antarctica.

 _You’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay_.

I let out a sob and folded up my knees to my head, rocking back and forth slightly. He had touched me again – not in a sexual way, but his person had come into contact with my person, something I had never wanted to experience again.

Another choked sob escaped my lips; I clawed at my bare knees with my fingers for a minute, as though desperately trying to find something to hold on to. I had the wherewithal to look at my watch; I had fifteen minutes to get to Binns’.

 _Don’t want Neville and the others to know about this_.

I managed to force myself up, grab an ink bottle from a drawer, and walk towards the classroom. I got there and smiled at Hermione, who looked at me curiously. I guess the smile hadn’t quite reached my eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keep commenting, guys! Seriously I love getting real feedback :) (Also, seriously, I need a name for the four of them, I'm at a loss; I also need a nickname for Harry. My creative powers are at a loss.)


	61. Chapter Sixty: October 1 - 6, 1995, Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The black brook calls 
> 
> It sings a chorus 
> 
> While the gathering swells 
> 
> The flames grow tall 
> 
> Right before us 
> 
> As drums keep pounding 
> 
> And the masses now are fusing 
> 
> Bodies pressed and tangled 
> 
> As we revel in confusion 
> 
> Our inhibitions thrown into the fire 
> 
> Come raise your lanterns to the sky 
> 
> Can we illuminate this night? 
> 
> We'll dance like heathens round a flame 
> 
> While the world sleeps we are awake." 
> 
> ~ Rise Against, "Lanterns".

Chapter 60: October 1 – October 6, 1995, Hogwarts

The next day, I made sure to go down to breakfast with Neville – and I had no intention of going anywhere without him for a while. I didn’t really so much _tell_ him this as blatantly refused to leave his side. He didn’t question it, or if he did, he didn’t say anything about his questioning. The owls were coming in with the morning mail; I looked up hopefully for a letter from my father, and was happily greeted by Darwin swooping in and dropping an envelope in my lap. I lovingly pet his head as I opened it eagerly.

_Dear Maggie,_

_So I am never going to be able to get permission to come into Hogwarts – or, if I do, it won’t be for ages. I managed to procure a list of your Hogsmeade weekends from McGonagall over the weekend when she stopped by the new house. I’ll be by this weekend; please be sure that Angelina is there, at the Three Broomsticks, at one o’clock. You and Harry should also come down; my only regret in this is that I won’t be able to see Elena. The Christmas Holidays aren’t far away, though; it won’t be long._

_We’re all doing okay back at the house. The dog misses everyone; he wishes he had someone to talk to. Your mm is going ballistic with all his barking._

_Love,_

_Dad_

I laughed out loud; of course he would create a euphemism for Sirius and Mum fighting out of dog barks. I walked over to Harry and handed him the letter; he looked up at me with an eager grin on his face and ran over to Angelina, who I could only presume was at the opposite end of the Gryffindor table. I went back to eating my food; happy that I would be able to see my dad that weekend.

Charms that day could honestly only be thought of as interesting. I sat down next to Sam, ready to try and actually focus in class that day; we weren’t doing practical magic, as far as I was aware, only taking notes. Sam looked at me with a grumpy expression on his face.

“What is it now, grumpy pants?” I asked teasingly, getting out my quill and already positioning myself to take notes.

“I can’t believe you lot persuaded me to _talk_ to people,” Sam grunted in annoyance.

“Do you want to not help us gather a large group?” I asked him in amazement.

“Of course I want to help. I just want to do it without talking to people I intensely and heavily dislike,” Sam scowled.

“Like?” I asked curiously.

Sam glared at me wordlessly. He gestured then with his hand to everyone around us. I laughed loudly.

“Is there anyone you _don’t_ heavily dislike?” I chortled.

“Erm… you, Hermione, Harry, Neville, Ginny, Luna of course, Claire, Elena, Fred, George, and I guess Ron?” Sam admitted.

“Hey, that is a _longer_ list than this time last year,” I pointed out.

“Yeah, last year it was one person, Luna,” Sam snorted.

“Why Luna, by the way?” I asked in amazement. Sam shrugged.

“She is so bloody weird it’s fascinating. Talking to her is like playing Russian Roulette. You literally have no idea what’s going to happen next,” Sam laughed.

“You _would_ compare Luna’s oddities to Russian Roulette –“

“It’s an apt metaphor, I’m sticking with it,” Sam nodded eagerly.

“You’re ridiculous,” I rolled my eyes. Neville was snorting next to me in agreement.

“By the way, if you had to come up with a name to describe me, Harry, Hermione, and Neville, what would it be?” I asked him quietly. Sam looked at me with raised eyebrows.

“The Biggest Dorks of the Universe,” he answered after a short pause. Neville laughed louder now.

“Thank you for your help, Samuel,” Hermione rolled her eyes in annoyance from her position behind us in the classroom.

“Always glad to help,” Sam sniggered as Flitwick began lecture. I took as many notes as I could, but I knew most of it wasn’t sinking in – a feeling of disappointment overcame me that I didn’t exactly enjoy having.

Herbology that afternoon involved a significantly different conversation.

“Well, I’ve gotten the word out,” Ernie beamed happily at Harry and the rest of us as we walked down to the Greenhouses.

“That was extraordinarily fast,” Hermione frowned. Harry groaned softly in embarrassment next to her.

“Yup, I have thirteen Hufflepuffs who would all like to join,” Ernie nodded, “Wide age range, too. We’ll be at the Room of Requirement on Sunday – I’ll probably have to make two trips.”

“That’s fine,” Hermione beamed, “Great job, Ernie.”

“Of course, anything to get a decent Defense Against the Dark Arts education,” Ernie shook his head mournfully, “Between Quirrell, Lockhart, and now Umbridge, we really don’t stand a chance on our O.W.L., and in these troubling times it is more important than ever for us to be up to snuff.”

“Exactly what I was thinking, yes,” Hermione nodded eagerly.

“Ernie, these people all know what we’re doing, right?” Harry asked, the slightest trace of grumpiness in his voice, “They’re not all coming just to ogle at me, right?”

“I assure you, Harry, I made the intention of the evening clear,” Ernie nodded, smiling in reassurance, “You should not have to worry about being turned into a spectacle.”

“Are you kidding me? My entire life is a spectacle,” Harry groaned.

“An important point has been raised,” I laughed.

“Well, alright then, no more of a spectacle than usual,” Ernie acknowledged, frowning now, “You really do have everything happen to you, don’t you?”

Harry groaned loudly, burying his face in his hands. Neville patted him comfortingly on the shoulder.

“Also, Neville, you’ll be pleased to know that I’ve informed the entirety of Hufflepuff House that they are not to call you a boy under any circumstances,” Ernie added. Neville looked sincerely touched.

“Thanks, Ernie, that means a lot,” Neville nodded.

“Of course. I know I would hate it to be called something other than a boy,” Ernie shuddered, “What a nightmare.”

“How much… pull do you actually _have_ over Hufflepuff House?” Hermione asked in amusement.

“A surprising amount,” Ernie acknowledged, “In my experience, if you _act_ confident, you usually give the impression that you _are_ confident – at least, you give that impression to other individuals, who then respect you and what you have to say. It also helped that Cedric said he thought it was a good idea, and agreed to come.”

“Cedric _Diggory_?” Harry asked in disbelief.

“Yes – he _is_ the leader of Hufflepuff, people respect him,” Ernie nodded, “We were all devastated when he wasn’t picked for the Tournament last year.”

“Well, that worked out good for him, didn’t it?” I frowned, “Angelina and Harry are both pretty screwed up now, Matteo is probably still depressed and grief-stricken, and Effi is dead.”

“Well… yes,” Ernie acknowledged, “At the time, though, it was a blow.”

“Still, thanks for getting people to come,” Neville interjected, “It’s important we have a large following.”

“Why?” Harry asked in annoyance, “I don’t even know if I can _teach –_ “

“Well, the more of us there are, the less power Umbridge will have over us, right?” Neville shrugged.

“Exactly, Neville, that was my thought,” Ernie agreed.

Sprout had walked in then, though, and our conversation was cut short by our lesson.

It was a strange reality, knowing that people were talking about our group, mostly at our instruction – rather than behind our backs. Still, I chose to ignore some of the looks I got from people in the other houses, whom I was sure had heard about what was going to happen – I didn’t really feel like dealing with that.

That Saturday, the first Hogsmeade visit of the year, I eagerly got dressed in my typical punk attire and looked happily at Neville. He looked at me and rolled his eyes.

“That’s what you’re wearing to see your dad?” he snorted.

“I’ve worn this around him plenty of times. I’m not wearing shorts anymore!” I offered.

“Yeah, I just can count five, no –“ he turned me around and examined the backs of my legs, “Seven holes ripped in your jeans.”

“Why do you have to hate,” I snorted.

“I don’t hate, I am worried for your safety,” Neville laughed. He was still staring at me from behind.

“Enjoying my buttocks, then?” I asked cheekily, feeling my face flush madly as I said it. Neville spluttered for a good minute before turning away and muttering in embarrassment that we should get going. I laughed happily and followed him out towards the grounds, zipping up my leather jacket up to my chin.

Hermione looked at me and rolled her eyes as we reached the pathway to Hogsmeade. Harry snorted in amusement at her reaction.

“Does Angelina know where to go?” I asked Harry.

“I think so – well, there she is, at any rate,” Harry nodded up to Angelina. She hardly looked like herself anymore – her hair, usually done so neatly into dreadlocks, was very curly and very much so not in any sort of style. She wore primarily hoodies, now, and was wearing one as she walked up to us, the hood pulled up around her head.

“Let’s go,” she muttered very quietly. Neville looked at her in shock.

“Yeah,” Harry agreed, leading her out towards Hogsmeade. We were all very silent as we walked down, mostly due to the presence of Angelina – I didn’t know if I should talk to her and reassure her, or leave her be in her silence. It was getting a little colder outside; the wind was wipping past my face and hitting my cheeks, but compared to the warm weather we had been having prior to this, it was a nice feeling.

We managed to get to the Three Broomsticks on time, and it was crowded as all hell – that’s what the first Hogsmeade weekend does, at any rate. I looked around eagerly for my dad and spotted him sitting at one of the tables, waving at us with a large smile on his face.

“Dad!” I shouted happily, running towards him and hugging him. He laughed and hugged me back, still chuckling as I pulled away.

“Good to see that your spirit is still intact, Maggie. Come here, Harry,” he motioned, and Harry leaned in to hug him as well, smiling slightly in a look I knew was indicative of how grateful he was to see my dad as well.

“Good to see you Hermione, Neville,” Dad nodded at them, smiling; Hermione and Neville both beamed back as we all pulled up chairs around my dad.

“It is a pleasure to see you again, Angelina,” Dad smiled the kindest smile of all at her. She shrugged wordlessly, sitting down in a hunched over position.

“Would you like to talk alone, then, or with them present? Because I have some things I’d like to discuss with my kids before they go,” Dad asked.

“I’d… erm… alone, if that’s okay,” Angelina muttered.

“Alright,” Dad nodded, “Completely understandable. Kids,” he turned to us now, “You all need to really toe the line with Umbridge, alright? That goes to _all_ of you.”

“Okay,” Hermione nodded.

“It’s a little hard,” Harry frowned.

“I _completely_ understand – good god I hate that woman – but we’ve already received quite a few nasty letters about you, Maggie, and you, Harry, from her. We’re worried she’ll try to kick you out of school,” Dad frowned, “Which is the last thing we need, obviously.”

“Right,” I nodded.

“Do you have any ideas on how to cope with her?” Harry sighed.

“I don’t know, Harry,” Dad shook his head, “I’ve only interacted with her a few times – she was always very dismissive of me, probably because I’m not white.”

I looked at him in amusement, “Funnily enough, she has yet to mention that to me.”

“That’s because you, my dear, are her exact definition of her worst nightmare – well, one of her definitions,” Dad rolled his eyes, “Me, I was a respectable wizard with a respectable job – before Voldemort came back and turned _me_ into one of her worst nightmares, too.”

“Fair enough,” Harry grinned happily.

I looked at Dad for a long moment, “Dad… why do we never talk about… our culture?”

“You mean, being Cherokee and Inuit?” Dad asked immediately, pausing for a moment, “I assume you don’t mean our Norwegian and Russian bits.”

“Er… yeah,” I shrugged, blushing slightly.

“That’s rather complicated. If you want to come back and talk to me later, sweetheart, you can – I just shouldn’t waste any more of Angelina’s time,” Dad smiled kindly at her again.

“Alright, see you later Dad,” I nodded, giving him another hug. Harry did too, and the four of us left to go and explore Hogsmeade together. It was a relatively boring adventure – we went shopping, we laughed about the various ridiculous things each of us did, we discussed group names again – and I was more than eager to go back and talk to my dad again.

Once it had gotten fairly late, I ran back to the Three Broomsticks. Inside, Angelina and my dad seemed to still be in deep discussion – but then Angelina got up from the table. She and my father hugged, and she walked away, wiping tears from her eyes as she did so. She still had her hood up.

I quietly walked in after her, going to sit down with my dad. He looked at me with a sad smile.

“We still have a long way to go. I’ll probably come back every Hogsmeade weekend from now on,” he admitted.

“Well, at least she has someone to talk to,” I nodded in approval.

“Yes, she definitely needs it,” Dad agreed, “Now, about your question from earlier…”

I flushed again, “I’m sorry, it probably doesn’t matter that much, I just… when you brought up that you had been mistreated for it, it reminded me that this wasn’t just my problem… it was something that we shared.”

“And Elena,” Dad pointed out.

“Obviously,” I nodded.

“Well, the thing is, chicken, I very violently rejected that part of myself,” Dad sighed.

“Why?” I asked in confusion.

“Because it gave me a lot of grief growing up,” Dad paused, “Native American wizards were the reason behind many of the differences in American magic – a lot of the traditions of my ancestors were passed on to the muggleborns who immigrated to the country, especially at the beginning, right when how Americans would treat magic was being established. This gives Native Americans – all groups of us – this sort of… weird, god-like, and yet lowly, status. It’s this noble savage complex.”

“Okay…” I paused.

“Meaning, we’re expected to understand magic – especially more primal magic, like elementalism and potions and herbology and the like – on a fundamental level. We’re also frequently expected to be innocent and naïve about things like, say, Voldemort, or Dark Magic. As such, we are both patronized and uplifted, both molly coddled and looked to for advice. It’s not the best culture to live in – in fact, it’s a terrible culture to live in,” Dad shook his head mournfully, “And frankly, I couldn’t stand it. It didn’t help that I _was_ good at nature-involved magical things… I _was_ good at herbology and potions, and finding magical plants in the woods, and all the rest of that. Becoming an apothecary – granted, my own choice, but since I was good at all the aforementioned things, I figured it was my calling – was sort of the last nail in the coffin. I literally was treated like a stereotype. My parents were furious – because they constantly work to fight these stereotypes. They’re damaging to everyone, every people. And I couldn’t socialize with other people in my home country, really, without being treated like this stereotype… so when I went to the United Kingdom, many people actually tried to _stop_ me, and I mean I’d have understood if it was just for the danger of it all…”

“But they treated you like you couldn’t handle more European, less nature-based types of magic,” I finished for him.

“Exactly. So when I left, I vowed that I would be focusing on making a new life – I didn’t necessarily think in Britain, I mean I wasn’t a crazy person – but somewhere. I was going to go somewhere where my people, though probably still stereotyped and treated with prejudice, wasn’t the subject of so _much_ lore and myth as we are in the United States and Canada, and Mexico and Latin America, for that matter,” Dad sighed, “And I was so hell bent on you and Elena not having to deal with that kind of expectation and prejudice that I just refused to talk about my heritage… something else my parents weren’t particularly fond of.”

“I mean, it’s not even so much that I want to know, it was just… a realization, I guess,” I sighed.

“I personally never found it interesting,” Dad paused, “I’m firmly in the policy of ‘you are who you are, and your ancestors do not affect it in so much as they may have affected how you were brought up.’ This is… not an attitude my parents agree with.”

“Well, do we have any relatives besides Gran and Gramps?” I asked.

“No close relatives. Admittedly, there was… a very large Wizarding war in the United States not long before I was born,” Dad paused, “It killed a lot of people, including my cousins, and I was an only child.”

“Alright,” I nodded, “Do you think Gran and Gramps would get mad if I asked them questions next time I saw them?”

“Not even in the slightest. Frankly, they’d be proud that you’re not as huge of a disappointment as me,” Dad snorted.

I laughed loudly, grinning at Dad for a moment.

“So you must have really loved Mum, huh, to stick around in this hell hole,” I muttered after a while.

“Oh yes,” Dad nodded, “She was the most wonderful person I had ever met.”

I flushed madly in embarrassment, “ _Dad_.”

“Well, it’s true,” Dad paused, “I knew after a short period of getting to know her I’d do anything for her. It was fairly simple. She didn’t take long to persuade of this sort of thing, either.”

“How did you guys even get together in the great mess that was the first war?” I asked.

 “Well, after I had been Imperiused and killed the Prewetts,” Dad scowled in hatred, “Your mum was the only person who forgave me what happened instantaneously. I mean, everyone in the Order _believed_ I had been put under the curse, but times were dark – people were nervous, and not exactly eager to trust anyone easily. But your mum immediately believed me, and she begged Dumbledore to believe me, too. He already did, but the urgency of her requests lead to him fighting for me at the Ministry so I wouldn’t get charged.”

“And then you guys got together?” I continued.

“No,” Dad paused, “Not right away. I was pretty mucked up after everything that happened. I briefly went home, thinking I’d never go back. I reopened my shop in Chicago, I connected with my old friends – who all claimed my inability to fight off the Imperius Curse was related to my race, which was fantastic, since I was better than _all of them_ at dueling, but whatever –“

I laughed loudly.

“And then your Mum came over. Risked everything to do it, too. But she begged me to come back,” Dad paused, “And I did.”

“And then you got married within the year,” I laughed.

“Again, dark times,” Dad snorted, “We were both pretty convinced we were going to die.”

“I know the feeling,” I muttered softly. Dad looked at me sadly.

“Your mum would want me to tell you that you’ll be fine, and if you just leave the war to us adults, you’ll get through it,” Dad paused, “But I don’t believe in lies.”

I looked at him sadly.

“Harry is an important part of the war. Therefore, you – as his adopted sister – are also an important part of the war. Neither of you are going to get out of it. Dumbledore and Molly Weasley and your mum can put in as many rules on the Order and fighting as they want – you lot, and your friends Hermione and Neville too, probably, are in it already, and there’s no way you won’t be. And that’s okay. Your best bet on surviving? _Fighting_ , and working hard to end the war before it gets worse than it has to be,” Dad reassured.

That actually cheered me quite a bit.

“Thank you, Dad,” I responded earnestly. He gave me another hug.

“Now, you should get back up to the castle. Again – don’t get in trouble with Umbridge, she’s really not worth it,” Dad shook his head mournfully, his eyes squeezed shut in annoyance.

“I’ll do my best, Dad,” I laughed, giving him yet another hug, “I love you.”

“Love you too, sweetie. I’ll see you in early December,” Dad smiled. I waved and left, walking back up to the castle eagerly, feeling a little cheered by my father’s directive.

And then, the next day, was the day of our group. I had just finished training with Shae – we were now working on our agility, and I basically was jumping and leaping over every surface, including the _ceiling_ , which was pretty amazing – and was waiting against a wall in the room. I had to stay in the room and make sure the people ended up in the right place, and not some other functionality of the Room of Requirement.

The first person to enter was Elena, followed by Claire, and another Slytherin girl I didn’t know. She was shorter, with medium length hair that was very curly and dark red, and she had fairly pale skin as well. She looked around the room with her lips pursed together, her face drawn into a scowl. Between her hair and her skin, she looked like she could be Elena’s sister.

“Who’s this, then?” I asked immediately.

“Astoria Greengrass,” Claire introduced, “She’s in our year, and got very pissed off at the amount of crap Elena and I had to deal with last year.”

“I never participated,” Astroia insisted immediately, her head snapping to look at me, “I didn’t like how people treated Elena just because you’re her sister.”

“Thanks for that,” I pursed my lips together in my confusion between gratefulness and distrust.

“Don’t worry, I’m not an idiot, I’d never tell anyone about this place or this idea,” Astoria paused, “I just don’t want to not learn defensive magic for a year or longer while that horrible woman is teaching.”

“Alright then,” I shrugged in response.

“Plus, I’m looking to get all O’s in my exams – I want to be Minister for Magic – and I refuse to let the idiocy in the Ministry currently get in the way of that,” Astoria snorted.

“These are fair reasons,” I acknowledged.

Soon after they arrived, Ernie arrived with his first group of seven Hufflepuffs. He was right about the age range – there was Cedric, a senior, and still as handsome as he had been two years ago, and then there was little Peter Marlow, a second year with blond hair and a kind expression I had noticed during Elena’s sorting.

“Well, everyone, just line up against the wall, I guess; Harry, Hermione, and Neville will be here soon, but we also have to wait for the rest of the folks…” I shrugged, flushing in embarrassment – I wasn’t used to being in charge of, well, _anything_.

 _Teaching will totally go well_ , a voice in my head responded to my nervousness sarcastically. I groaned softly to myself.

Sam then walked in, a huge gaggle of Ravenclaws behind him. There were ten of them, including him and Luna; Luna beamed and waved at me and I waved back awkwardly, still not used to being the center of attention.

“Well, these are the people I got,” Sam muttered in irritation.

“Oh don’t be so much of a _downer_ , Sam,” Luna laughed, “Look at all the people he got!”

“It’s extremely impressive,” I smiled slyly at Sam, who flicked me off. I snorted and ignored him. Valerie was amongst these Ravenclaws, which surprised me. I gave her a look that indicated this.

“What? I’m not an idiot, I want to pass my N.E.W.T.s and not, you know, die,” Valerie rolled her eyes, going to stand next to Claire in a huff.

Amongst the attendees was also Cho Chang, who smiled awkwardly at me – her date with Harry had been such a horrific flop that I didn’t blame her for it – and went to talk to Cedric.

Ernie then returned with the other six Hufflepuffs (and himself), and people started mingling and talking to one another. I ran my hand through my ponytail awkwardly and prayed the Gryffindors would show up, now.

Harry, Hermione, and Neville walked in soon after that, followed by no less than _fifteen_ Gryffindors. I felt my mouth drop open in shock before I hurried to close it. These Gryffindors included, of course, the Weasleys – but also Dean Thomas, Parvati Patil, and many others.

“Well, we’re all here now, I think,” Hermione beamed brightly. Harry sighed, standing awkwardly next to him. I grimaced at him in sympathy. Neville, surprisingly, looked at ease.

“No one followed you right, Sam, Ernie?” Hermione asked. They both shook their heads.

“Great!” Hermione beamed again, “Hello, everyone.”

They were a mixture of a great many people – some I recognized, some I didn’t. I didn’t like being in the front of the room with the others. Sure, I had done a shitton of stuff at Hogwarts – but pretty much always when no one was _looking_.

“Well, you, erm, all know know why you’re here. Erm… well, I had the idea that it might be good if people who wanted to study Defense Against the Dark Arts – and I don’t mean that rubbish Umbridge is teaching us – “ Hermione was clearly nervous, too, “Because no one could call that Defense Against the Dark Arts…”

“Hear, here,” Anthony Goldstein – a tanned skin boy with long, curly brown hair in ringlets – shouted in the back. Sam scowled almost imperceptibly, which nearly made me laugh.

Hermione, however, looked heartened at this, “Well, I thought it would be good if we, well, took matters into our own hands.”

She looked over at Harry before continuing, “And by that I mean learning how to defend ourselves properly, not just theory but real spells –“

“You want to pass your Defense Against the Dark Arts O.W.L. too, though, I bet?” asked Michael Corner, a paler boy with short black hair and monolidded, large eyes, standing in the back with Goldstein.

 “Of course I do,” Hermione answered immediately, “But I want more than that, I want to be properly trained in Defense because… because…” she took a deep breath, “Because Lord Voldemort’s back.”

Everyone reacted immediately, and in shock – people were screaming and falling out of their chairs. Neville actually snorted in amusement, and Harry rolled his eyes. I smirked at Neville, who returned my expression.

“Well, that’s the plan, anyway,” Hermione paused, “If you want to join us, we need to decide how we’re going to –“

“Where’s the proof You-Know-Who’s back?” asked a blonde Hufflepuff boy who looked like he could be Malfoy’s cousin based on facial expression alone.

“Well, Dumbledore believes it –“ Hermione began.

“You mean, Dumbledore believes _him_ ,” the boy nodded at Harry.

“Who the fuck are you?” I asked in annoyance. Ginny in the front row grinned at me.

“Zacharias Smith,” he responded, “And I think we’ve got the right to know exactly what makes _him_ say You-Know-Who’s back.”

“Look,” Hermione responded immediately, ‘That’s not really what this meeting was supposed to be about…”

“Yeah, fuck off,” I nodded.

“It’s okay, guys,” Harry sighed. Harry looked completely furious – and I knew why. He thought that people were just here to hear Harry say the story of the graveyard.

“What maks me say Voldemort is back?” Harry looked at Smith straight in the face, “I saw him. But Dumbledore told the whole school what happened last year, and if you don’t believe him, you don’t believe me, and I’m not wasting an afternoon trying to convince everyone.”

Everyone watched Harry in extreme fascination.

Zacharias wasn’t done, however, “All Dumbledore told us last year was that Effi Rosenthal got killed by You-Know-Who and you couldn’t bring her body back to Hogwarts. He didn’t give us details, and he didn’t tell us exactly how Rosenthal got murdered, I think we’d all like to know –“

“If you’ve come here to hear exactly what it looks like when Voldemort murders someone, I can’t help you,” Harry scowled furiously, “I don’t want to talk about Effi Rosenthal, all right? So if that’s what you’re here for, you might as well clear out.”

Harry grinned at the three of us; I grimaced in sympathy. No one, however, left the room.

“So,” Hermione resumed, looking nervous, “So… like I was saying… if you want to learn some defense, thenw e need to work out how we’re going to do it, and how often we’re going to meet.”

“Can you really produce a Patronus?” asked a girl in the back, who I recognized as Susan Bones – she had pale skin and spikey, short blonde hair, “I heard a rumor once that you could.”

Everyone began murmuring in interest.

“Erm… yes,” Harry responded.

“A corporeal Patronus?”

“Er – what?” Harry frowned.

“A patronus with a solid form,” Susan clarified.

“Yeah… it’s a stag,” Harry flushed in embarrassment.

Lee Jordan looked severely impressed, “Blimey, harry, I never knew that!”

“We thought we shouldn’t spread it around,” Neville grinned, “Harry gets enough attention as it is.” Multiple people laughed at that.

“And did you kill a basilisk with that sword in Dumbledore’s office?” Terry Boot, a darkly tanned boy with long dark brown hair in a ponytail, asked, “That’s what the protraits told me when I was in there last year.”

“Yeah, but these two losers helped me a lot,” Harry pointed at Neville and me. I flushed madly, looking down at my shoes.

“Wow,” Justin Finch-Fletchley whispered.

“And in our first year,” Neville grinned, “He saved the Philospher’s Stone from Voldemort.”

“Alright, but you lot helped me with that too, don’t even –“ Harry groaned.

“Yes, but you faced Voldemort – and the end of the obstacles – alone,” Hermione laughed.

“And let’s not forget,” Ginny piped up, beaming at Harry in a lovestruck way that I was a little disgusted by, “All the tasks he had to get through in the Triwizard Tournament last year – past the snake, and the obstacle course, and everything in the forest…”

Everyone murmured in impressed agreement. Harry looked so mortified that he wanted to melt into the floor.

“Look…” Harry sighed, “I don’t want to sound like I’m trying to be modest or anything, but… I had a lot of help with all that stuff…”

“Not with the snake, you didn’t,” Michael Corner responded, “That was amazing last year…”

“Yeah, well…” Harry looked flustered still.

“And you and I got away from a giant mob of acrocromantulas second year, don’t forget,” I laughed.

“That was because _your_ bloody dragon helped us –“ Harry shouted without thinking.

“Wait,” Zacharias frowned.

“You have a dragon? You neglected to tell me this,” Elena laughed.

“I do _not_ have a dragon,” I glared at Harry furiously; he flushed madly in embarrassment, “I just… erm… don’t seem to piss this one that lives in the forest off very much.”

“Dude,” Fred laughed.

“And in our third year, Harry fought off probably about fifty dementors with his patronus,” Hermione piped up, eager to change the subject.

Everyone oohed and aahed in amazement. Harry buried his face in his hands.

“So, are we agreed we want to take lessons from Harry?” Hermione asked. Everyone murmured in agreement.

“Right,” Hermione beamed, “Well, then, the next question is how often we do it. I really don’t think there’s any point in meeting less than once a week –“

“We have to organize around Quidditch,” Alicia piped up eagerly.

“For all houses,” Cho insisted.

“We can find a night that suits everyone,” Hermione urged, “But you know, this is rather important, we’re talking about learning to defend ourselves against Voldemort and the Death Eaters…”

“Well said,” Ernie piped up, “Personally I think this is really important, possibly even more important than anything else we’ll do this year, even for those of us with exams coming up! I, personally, am at a loss to see why the Ministry has foisted such a useless teacher upon us at this critical period. Obviously they are in denial about the return of You-Know-Who, but to give us a teacher who is trying to actively prevent us from using defensive spells –“

“We think the reason Umbridge doesn’t want us trained in Defense is that she’s got some… some mad idea that Dumbledore could use the students in the school as a kind of private army. She thinks she’d mobilize us against the Ministry.”

Luna looked as though she was about to speak, but Sam wordlessly shook his head and she closed her mouth.

“So, how often should we meet?” Ginny asked immediately.

“Once a week sounds fine,” Lee Jordan agreed.

“And then, well, we figured we would meet in here,” Hermione continued, “As long as we close the loopholes when we make the room, no one else can get in.”

“Sounds good,” Cedric Diggory agreed.

Hermione rummaged through her bag and pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill, pausing for a moment before continuing, “I think everyone should write their name down, just so we know who was here. But I also think we ought to all agree not to shout about what we’re doing. So if you sign, you’re agreeing ot not tell Umbridge – or anyone else – what we’re up to.”

Lots of people signed the list immediately, though there were quite a few individuals who looked nervous having their names on a piece of paper like this.

“Er…” Zacharias frowned, “Well… I’m sure Ernie will tell me when the meeting is…”

Ernie also looked hesitant.

“I – well, we are _prefects_ ,” he spluttered, “And if this list was found… well, I mean to say… you said yourself, if Umbridge finds out…”

“You just said this group was the most important thing you’d do this year,” Harry reminded.

“I – yes, I do believe that, it’s just…”

“Do you really think I’d leave that list lying around?” Hermione snapped.

“No, no of course not,” Ernie sighed, “I – yes, of course I’ll sign.”

There were so many people who signed the list – I was overwhelmed as I looked down at it.

_Harry Potter_

_Hermione Granger_

_Neville Longbottom_

_Maggie Johnson_

_Ginny Weasley_

_Sam Lee_

_Luna Lovegood_

_George Weasley_

_Fred Weasley_

_Ron Weasley_

_Claire Dewar_

_Elena Johnson_

_Valerie Dewar_

_Ernie MacMillan_

_Hannah Abbot_

_Angelina Johnson_

_Susan bones_

_Justin Finch-Fletchly_

_Cho Chang_

_Marietta Edgecomb_

_Cedric Diggory_

_Katherine Everett_

_Peter Marlow_

_Nadia Hamidi_

_Colin Creevey_

_Dean Thomas_

_Alicia Spinnet_

_Katie Bell_

_Michael Corner_

_Anthony Goldstein_

_Parvati Patil_

_Paadma Patil_

_Terry Boot_

_Chris Anderson_

_Sally-Anne Perks_

_Asgar Sury_

_Vanessa Taylor_

_Lee Jordan_

_Dennis Creevey_

_Rick Wangai_

_Astoria Greengrass_

_Kim Zhou_

_Joshua Smith_

_Maria Ruiz_

_Nikko Hill_

_Ada Charan_

_Zacharias Smith_

Once everyone had signed the list, they all piled out of the room, waving and reminding us to tell them when the meeting should occur. Hermione looked flustered, but pleased.

“I’m glad Ernie and Sam got the word out – that was impressive,” Hermione paused, “A good number of people, yes?”

“Hermione, how the bloody hell am I supposed to teach all those people?” Harry groaned.

“You can do it, mate,” Neville reassured, “I know you can.”

“And there are so many people, I barely noticed George was there,” I beamed happily. It was true; I hadn’t even seen him until he signed his name.

“So… when are we going to do this?” Harry sighed.

“Probably some evening this week, so get your lesson ready, Harry,” Hermione smiled reassuringly, “I know you can do it.”

“Alright then,” Harry paused, “If I don’t, you owe me a butterbeer.”

“I think I can manage that,” Hermione laughed cheerfully. I rolled my eyes, but still, the act of doing something like this – something so rebellious – was uplifting. Frankly, I felt like myself again, more so than I had since all my shit hit the fan.

It was a wonderful feeling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment! Thanks guys! Also, TEAM NAMES and POTTER NICKNAME seriously help thanks (also sorry for not spellchecking again today... I had less time to write tonight than I thought, apparently.)


	62. Chapter Sixty - One: October 7 - 9, 1995 Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Find what you love and let it kill you 
> 
> Chop under pressure, thinkin' dammit 
> 
> All eyes on me like a conductor 
> 
> That mean, just play your role, you're like a champion 
> 
> Wait, play the game to change the game 
> 
> Word to Gucci, that's my hitta 
> 
> Your way is livin' in the moment, huh? 
> 
> My way is livin' for tomorrow 
> 
> Wonder what I'm doin' 
> 
> Yeah I know what I'm doin' 
> 
> Say I know what I'm doin' 
> 
> You talk about a revolution 
> 
> There it is." 
> 
> ~ The Chemical Brothers, "This is Not a Game"

Chapter 61: October 7 – 9, 1995, Hogwarts

Honestly, doing something – and seeing exactly how many people didn’t think my brother was crazy – put me in a wonderful mood, despite the fact that I would be in Umbridge’s class on that Monday. I was smiling throughout the morning, and even was smiling as I made my way to History. Hermione had been hunched over a timetable all day, eagerly scouring for a good spot in which every person on our list of rebels could meet up. I smirked at her in amusement, rolling my eyes.

“This is so _difficult_ – and things change so much week to week – I think it’ll just be better if we meet a different time every week,” she muttered angrily.

“That’s probably wise, keeps people guessing,” I nodded. Umbridge still wasn’t in the room.

“You know what’s sad?” I asked after a minute. Hermione looked up at me in confusion.

“What?”

“Next year, we won’t be in every class together,” I responded mournfully. Currently, we had identical schedules, and we had only not had identical schedules in our third year.

“Well, I’m sure I’ll be taking the same classes you are, so you won’t notice any change,” Hermione snorted.

“Let’s not completely write off the possibility that I might take different classes than you,” I paused, “I want to continue with Magical Creatures and I’m pretty sure you don’t.”

Hermione flushed in embarrassment, “When Hagrid gets back, _don’t tell him_.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” I grinned cheekily.

Binns’ class was boring as usual; frankly, it was exhaustingly so. I didn’t even have the energy to take a single note, and I had the feeling that I was dramatically angling towards a T in the subject. Neville also seemed to be fairly asleep, as was Harry. When we left the class, Hermione went around and flicked the three of us in the backs of our heads.

“ _Ow!_ ” Neville yelled.

“What the bloody hell was that for?” Harry demanded.

“Hermione seriously!” I shouted.

“You three – how do you think it would look of three members of,” she paused, looking around anxiously, “A _resistance movement_ ,” she whispered, “Failed their blood _History of Magic_ exams?”

Harry grimaced in embarrassment.

“I think it’ll look worse if I fail Charms, alright?” I grunted in annoyance, “I have bigger problems.”

“And I want to try and do well in Transfiguration,” Neville insisted.

“Same,” Harry nodded.

“What we learn about in History of Magic has no pertinence to our work, anyway,” I frowned, “It’s not about society over time, it’s about weird historical events, and sometimes wars, and how muggles interact with wizards… and wizards interacting with each other is never done in a very societally – aware waty… it’s history from the point of view of the oppressors, after all.”

“True,” Hermione acknowledged, “Well, I can’t help it, I don’t like seeing you all abandon anything like this.”

“Gotta have realism,” Neville snorted.

After the break, we headed down to potions, where Draco Malfoy was already standing outside of Snape’s door, talking loudly with other students. Neville groaned softly under his breath; Malfoy appeared to be pretty proud of something. I rolled my eyes and pulled Neville away, looking at him intensely to try and calm him down. He nodded quietly.

“I mean, Father always has pull over the people down at the Ministry… it is _very_ easy for us to exert our influence over there,” Malfoy was saying loudly. I rolled my eyes. I had managed to avoid him quite a bit so far this year, which was great.

“Yes, it was very easy to get word to Professor Umbridge that Hagrid should be sacked immediately upon returning… very easy to explain to her exactly what happened with that great oaf and me third year, and how his anger issues and general stupidity lead to the entirety of Slytherin House dropping the class. Well, when Professor Umbridge heard that, of course, she promised she would make sure to give him a scathing inspection, though she can’t actually fire any professors without the approval of the Ministry… though that shouldn’t be hard to get, with Father frequently talking to the Minister…” Mafloy was saying to his cronies, grinning with such pride I felt myself growl against my will. Neville was sneering alongside me, and Hermione and Harry were both glaring furiously.

“Of course, there’s still Dumbledore pulling for Hagrid’s stay, and so many students in… _inferior_ houses,” Malfoy shot a look over at the pack of Gryffindors, making me hiss softly, “Sticking up for him, but I doubt the Ministry will take them very seriously. I mean, when you have an idiot, a mudblood, and two loony people as a person’s main proponents, it doesn’t look good for that person, does it?”

Neville was glaring so angrily I barely recognized him.

“And I mean, my father says it’s only a matter of time before Johnson and Potter are carted off to St. Mungo’s… apparently they’ve got a special ward for people whose brains have been addled by magic…”

Malfoy made a ridiculous face, his mouth sagging open and his eyes rolling. Crabbe and Goyle shrieked with laughter, and Pansy Parkinson was beaming with glee.

Before I knew what was happening, Neville was rushing past me towards Malfoy, his fist raised in the air. I watched in shock an amazement as his fist swung through the air and contacted with Malfoy’s face – _crack!_ – and then went back. Neville didn’t even look fazed as he shook out his hand, Malfoy now on the floor, clutching a bleeding and potentially broken nose.

“How dare you – that is _not funny!_ ” Neville roared. He looked so angry and violent that Crabbe and Goyle were shocked into paralysis, “Do not – _fuck you, Malfoy, fuck you and your stupid, fucking, ugly face!_ ”

Hermione looked so shocked she might faint. I couldn’t control how far open my mouth had fallen. Harry was rushing forward, grabbing Neville and pulling him back from Malfoy, though his face was as white as a sheet.

“Come on, Neville, stop,” Harry urged; Neville’s hands were in fists again, but he willingly slunk back over to the wall, breathing heavily.

“Bet you couldn’t even really fight me, Longbottom,” Malfoy finally spluttered out, wiping off his nose – someone (probably Blaise Zabini, who actually had a brain,) had repaired it magically while I was distracted by Neville.

“You really want to test me, Malfoy?” Neville hissed, walking forward again. Crabbe and Goyle were now conscious, however, and my defensive instincts kicked in – I ran forward ahead of Neville.

Being a Halfling was weird. I slid across the floor and managed to fling out my legs underneath Crabbe and Goyle, tripping them onto the floor. I slid across where they had been standing as they both fell to the floor, turning around and facing Malfoy behind him. He turned around and looked at me in horror. I hissed loudly and grabbed onto both of his arms before he could make another move, dragging him and forcing him into the wall.

“You are a fucking coward and a weasel, and you should shut the fuck up if you know what’s good for you,” I growled, before dropping his hands and stepping backwards away from him. Malfoy was wincing in pain; I hoped I had given him bruises. I walked back, stepping over Crabbe and Goyle still lying on the floor, to Neville, who was looking at me in admiration and – god dammit, he was looking at me with love again.

 _We’re in public_ , I wanted to shout, but I didn’t, because I couldn’t make him stop looking at me like that even if I really wanted to.

Malfoy looked like he was going to wet himself again; I rolled my eyes and turned away, staring intently at the door to the dungeons. Crabbe and Goyle both managed to stumble to their feet, rubbing their heads and looking dumbfounded – well, more dumbfounded than usual. Snape then opened the door, ushering us all inside. Neville walked inside angrily, and I looked over at him in confusion as we had sat down at our spots. He shook his head imperceptibly.

“What was _that_?” Hermione asked me in a whisper. I shrugged. Harry was frowning as he put down his bag next to mine in our usual spot, but he didn’t say anything. Everyone around us was whispering about Neville, Malfoy, and me in amazement.

“You will notice,” Snape began with a sneer, “That we have a guest with us today.” He gestured towards the corner of the dungeon; Umbridge was sitting there with her clipboard. I looked over at Harry with a frown; this couldn’t go well under any circumstance.

“We are continuing with our Strengthening Solutions today, you will find your mixtures as you left them last lesson, if correctly made they should have matured well over the weekend – instructions,” he waved his wand, “On the board. Carry on.” I had had the wherewithal to look up how to do the Strengthening Solution in the potions textbook and had copied down the words for Harry, Neville, and me. Hermione even begrudgingly took a copy for her own ability to read the words.

I really wanted to hear what Umbridge would say to Snape, but I knew I had to focus on actually doing the potion correctly. My potions work had fallen by the wayside as I focused on charms; my last essay had gotten a P, a new low for me, as I usually managed to get A’s and even E’s. Umbridge spent the first half of the class scribbling notes on her clipboard; but then after that she walked over to Snape. Harry was getting distracted by her presence; Hermione kept hissing at him as he would make mistakes.

“Well, the class seems fairly advanced for their level,” Umbridge began, “Though I would question whether it is advisable to teach them a potion like the Strengthening Solution. I think the Ministry would prefer it if that was removed from the syllabus.”

I whistled very, very quietly under my breath. Neville grinned at me in amusement.

Snape slowly turned around to look at Umbridge, his face just as loathful as ever.

“Now… how long have you been teaching at Hogwarts?” Umbridge asked.

“Fourteen years,” Snape replied angrily.

“You applied first for the Defense Against the Dark Arts post, I believe?” Umbridge asked him.

“Yes,” Snape muttered.

“But you were unsuccessful?”

Snape sneered even more, “Obviously.”

Umbridge scribbled more on her keyboard, “And you have applied regularly for the Defense Against the Dark Arts post since you first joined the school, I believe?”

“Yes,” Snape muttered, looking furious. Harry kept screwing up his potion; Hermione was hissing in his ear. Neville, surprisingly, was taking Snape’s distracted position in stride, not constantly nervous that he would be over his shoulder. Between that and the paper next to him, his potion actually looked… like _mine_. And we were both only a few shades off from Hermione’s.

“Do you have any idea why Dumbledore has consistently refused to appoint you?”

“I suggest you ask him,” Snape spat.

“Oh I shall,” Umbridge smiled sweetly.

“I suppose this is relevant?” Snape glared at her furiously.

“Oh yes,’ Umbridge nodded, “Yes, the Minsitry wants a thorough understanding of teachers’ – er – backgrounds…”

She turned away, questioning Pansy Parkinson about the lessons. Snape swept over to our table; he looked angrily at my and Neville’s potions, not finding anything to really criticize about them. But then his eyes fell on Harry’s potion; it was now congealed and smelled like burned rubber. Hermione groaned softly.

“No marks, Potter,” Snape hissed, clearing the contents of Harry’s cauldron with his wand, “You will write me an essay on the correct composition of this potion, indicating how and why you went wrong, to be handed in next lesson, do you understand?”

“Yes,” Harry muttered. I felt terrible for him – we already had potions homework. We left the classroom quietly, Harry seething as he left to go to Divination. Neville walked away, positively _cheerful_ , to the Greenhouses. Hermione looked at me in bemusement and I just shrugged.

“It’s been a weird day, Mione, we should just… try to get through the rest of it,” I shrugged.

“Yes,” she sighed heavily, “Yes, we should.”

Ernie and Sam were actually sitting together when we got to the Runes classroom; I was so shocked by the site I did a double take.

“I was just talking to Sam about some of the things I’ve heard from Hufflepuffs about You-Know-Who’s return,” Ernie explained as we sat down, “I wanted to hear his take –“

“For some reason, I’ve been labeled as an expert on Lord Voldy-pants,” Sam muttered angrily.

“My new name is gaining ground,” I grinned eagerly.

“Don’t try to get out of the fact that because of you I’m being forced to be _social_ ,” Sam hissed.

“Well, you _did_ live with the Order of the Phoenix over the summer,” Hermione grinned.

“The Order – what’s that?” Ernie asked with a frown.

“I hate you Granger,” Sam groaned, running his hands through his long black hair and burying his face in his arms on top of his desk.

“It’s the resistance movement against Voldemort… the real, adult one,” I explained softly so no one could overhear us, there _were_ some Slytherins in the class after all, “They have a Headquarters and everything. Since Harry and Sam are friends, Sam and his Aunt were taken there to live over the summer, to keep him safe.”

“Blimey,” Ernie looked amazed, “How many people are in the Order?”

“Loads,” I shrugged, “Not sure how many… probably fifty, honestly.”

“I’ll have my parents contact Dumbledore, they’d love to join,” Ernie nodded firmly, “And my older sister.”

“She’s overage, right?” Hermione asked worriedly.

“Of course, she left Hogwarts last year… can you not join if you’re underage?” Ernie asked with a frown.

“No, not after… erm…” I frowned, looking at Sam.

He looked up from his arms, “You might as well say my sordid past, since I have no choice in it.”

“Sam, come on –“

“No!” Sam shouted, “I never wanted any of this shite! I just wanted to live my life!”

“So are you saying you don’t want to help fight against Voldemort?” Hermione asked softly. Sam stared at her for a long moment.

“Of course I do. I just… I don’t like people _pitying_ me,” Sam muttered angrily.

“I promise not to pity you,” Ernie stated calmly. Sam looked at him for a long moment.

“My parents joined the Order when they were still in school,” Sam stated simply, “They skipped their seventh year to fight. During this, they got pregnant with me – got married cause of it – and then they were killed soon after I was born. Happy?”

“No, that’s horrible,” Ernie shrugged, “Can understand why that would make Dumbledore ban minors, though.”

“Yup, now you need to have graduated from school,” Sam nodded, “Though, I think it’s stupid honestly.”

“You’re kidding,” Hermione frowned.

“Well, look at us,” Sam gestured to the four of us, “Look at… _most_ everyone on Sunday. We all want to fight, we all want to help. Maybe not now, but in the future… we want to do our part, and we want to be kept informed of what’s happening so we _can_ do our part. We’d be useless right now if, say, Voldy-pants attacked Hogwarts or something. I think we should be allowed in. We aren’t children. We lost that privilege when Voldemort fucking came back,” Sam shrugged.

“Hear, hear,” Ernie nodded earnestly.

“Well, then, we just better make sure our group is up to snuff,” Hermione stated decisively, “What should we call ourselves, anyway?”

“Junior Order of the Phoenix?” I grinned. Hermione rolled her eyes.

“That is a terrible name and you _know_ it.”

“The Defense Association?” Ernie suggested. I frowned at Hermione, and she shrugged in response.

“It’s as good a name as any,” Hermione paused, “I like it.”

Ernie looked right proud of himself as Babbling entered the room, and we resumed our translations.

Umbridge’s class was as dull as ever, but at least she didn’t seem to have a _clue_ about the Defense Association. I spent the class reading her book with drool coming out of my mouth, slightly; I could barely pay attention to that woman or her drivel lately. Neville had taken to doodling plants on his parchment, which was definitely entertaining to observe, at least. Sometimes, I would doodle dragons, dinosaurs, and their anatomy – but not always.

The next day, Hermione rushed to the table that lunch, eagerly running up to us at the table. I was tired after a long morning of trying to do Silencing Charms – I wasn’t getting the hang of things as fast as I’d like. Harry looked troubled, as though there was something terrible on his mind.

“What’s wrong, Harry?” I asked quietly. He looked at us silently, frowning slightly.

“I’ve been having… odd dreams, lately,” Harry admitted.

“What about?” Neville asked. Hermione looked annoyed at being ignored, bouncing up and down slightly in her seat.

“Just… of this long corridor… never been in it, don’t know how I’m dreaming of it…” Harry frowned, “And walking along it… as though there’s something I want in it.”

“Do you have any idea of what the corridor resembled? Maybe we could figure it out,” I offered.

“I dunno… it really was completely unfamiliar to me,” Harry sighed.

“That’s strange, our dreams are typically of places we’ve seen,” Neville frowned.

“Well, maybe it’s not a place _Harry_ has seen,” Hermione offered, still bouncing in her seat. We all looked at her in bemusement.

“Maybe it’s somewhere Voldemort’s been!” she hissed, looking at us in shock that we hadn’t thought of this ourselves.

“What –“

“Oh come _on_ , Harry, you had two dreams about Voldemort last year – about what he was doing! And he’s fully back now, I believe that any connection between your minds would be even stronger,” Hermione insisted. Harry looked shocked.

“Makes sense, mate,” Neville nodded.

“Well… er… what would Voldemort want in a corridor?” Harry asked.

“Maybe it’s not in the corridor. Maybe it’s at the other end of it,” I offered. Harry frowned greater, now, clearly pondering my words. Hermione was still bouncing up and down in her seat, and there was no point in ignoring her any longer.

“Yes, Hermione?” Neville and I asked in unison.

She rolled her eyes at this and hissed, “ _I’ve found the perfect time_ – tomorrow, eight o’clock.”

I looked over at Neville and Harry, who both frowned in agreement.

“Yes! We can go right after astronomy is done – I’ll start spreading the word,” Hermione paused, “Hopefully we can get the news out to everyone…”

“Ernie will be good at that, and I think Sam will be willing,” I sighed, “He’s been willing so far.”

“Alright,” Hermione beamed, I’ll go talk to the both of them – Neville, could you go around to the Gryffindors?”

“Sure thing,” Neville nodded, getting up and heading down the table. I looked over at Harry, who was still frustrated looking.

“I think… it’s more like… like he wants to find something,” Harry clarified, sighing heavily, “So it’s like… I want to find that thing, as well.”

“Hmm,” I frowned, “Well, I mean, just keep track of the dreams, I guess. Last year the dreams you had about Voldy-pants were extremely important to everything that was happening…”

“Yeah,” Harry nodded, “Maybe I’ll write to snuffles.”

“Good plan,” I agreed, “Just make sure it’s cryptic. Don’t want toads to find out what’s up.”

“Obviously,” Harry paused for a long minute.

“How are things with you and Ginny?” I asked finally; Neville was still talking to people and Hermione had entered into some sort of debate with Sam, which was amusing to observe from a distance.

“Well… great, actually,” Harry grinned.

“Really?” I smiled; I couldn’t help but be happy when he was.

“Yeah,” Harry nodded fiercely, “She’s brilliant, honestly… she’s feisty, sarcastic, and really smart… and honestly, I love talking to her. I don’t know why she and Neville ran out of things to talk about, I literally feel like I could talk to her for days on end…”

“That’s great, Harry,” I responded honestly. It was great. I really wanted him to be happy.

“She also… I dunno… she has her own life, you know?” Harry paused, “And I have mine… there are boundaries, which I _like_.”

I frowned for a minute; this was a real and important point against Hermione.

“You have boundaries with us, too,” I pointed out after a long minute.

“No, no, that wasn’t an _attack_ on the Trouble Makers or anything,” Harry reassured, “its just… she hangs out with Sam and Luna all the time. They have their own little group. It’s kind of nice to know that we have space in our lives.”

“Fair enough,” I sighed, though I was still worried for Hermione at that. I knew I didn’t want that kind of space in a relationship – far from it, I wanted someone I knew I could talk to about _anything_ and about _everything_ – but Harry and I weren’t the same person.

“At any rate, we should try to reign in the others, we need to go to Care of Magical Creatures,” Harry laughed. I nodded and waved Hermione over fiercely; Neville was already walking towards us. Hermione flushed in embarrassment and we all walked down to the grounds.

“So who will tell Elena and her friends?” Neville asked.

“I’ll find them in the library tonight,” Hermione paused, “That’s not hard.”

“Good, cause the Gryffindors all know,” Neville paused, “This should be good, right?”

“Definitely,” Hermione beamed. I was still excited – this would indeed be fantastic.

The next day was windy beyond belief, but that only increased my good mood; still, it wasn’t safe to be on the grounds, and we spent our lessons indoors. Ernie came up to us during Herbology to reassure us that he had gotten the word out to all the Hufflepuffs. I eagerly waited throughout the day for the time in which we would meet. It made me completely and utterly antsy; I could barely sit still at any point of my day. Still, I was slightly nervous that someone would betray Harry, or turn on him – I had had enough of defending him and his roll in the War and in the world for a lifetime, and I just wanted to have an evening where, for once, everyone would be on our side.

We got to the Room of Requirement; Neville had also passed around word of how to get in – the room could be thought of as _A place in which to practice Defense Against the Dark Arts, where Umbridge nor anyone who supports her can find us, nor Voldemort or anyone who supports him_. Whether or not people could actually bring themselves to think the word Voldemort would be an interesting question, but as I sat against the wall, staring at my hands, the first trickles of students began to come inside again.

Neville sat next to me, patting me on my knee reassuringly. I smiled at him; I really was doing okay with this. Eventually, everyone was in the room – and it was again, as large of a crowd as it had been before. Neville helped me up and we went to stand at the front of the room with Hermione and Harry.

“Well, er, I’ve been thinking about the sort of stuff we ought to do first, and… er…” Harry looked over at Hermione in bemusement; she was raising her hand.

“I think we ought to elect a leader,” Hermione nodded firmly.

“Harry’s the leader,” Ginny laughed in the front row of people, looking at Hermione in amusement.

“Yes, but I think we ought to vote on it properly,” Hermione shrugged, “It makes it formal and gives him authority. So – everyone who thinks Harry ought to be our leader?”

Everyone, including Zacharias Smith, rasied their hands.

“Er… right, thanks,” Harry muttered, “And – _what_ , Hermione?”

“I also think we ought to have a name,” she responded brightly, “It would promote a feeling of team spirit and unity, don’t you think? Ernie thought of the Defense Association the other day…”

“That’s pretty good,” Cho Chang shouted from somewhere in the room.

“We could call it the D.A. for short, so it can be refered to safely outside of meetings,” I nodded.

“Only, let’s make it stand for Dumbledore’s Army,” Ginny grinned slyly, “It’s the Ministry’s worst fear, isn’t it?”

A good laugh went up amongst the people at this.

“All in favor of the D.A.?” Hermione asked. Almost everyone raised their hand. “That’s a majority – motion passed!”

Hermione pinned the parchment with their names on it on the wall and wrote _DUMBLEDORE’S ARMY_ at the top of it.

“Right,” Harry began again, “Shall we get practicing then? I was thinking, the first thing we should do is _Expelliarmus_ , you know, the Disarming Charm. I know it’s pretty basic but I’ve found it really useful –“

“Oh _please_ ,” Zacharias Smith sneered, “I don’t think _Expelliarmus_ is exactly going to help us against You-Know-Who, do you?”

“I’ve used it against him,” Harry murmured, “It saved my life last June.”

Everyone was nearly silent; I smirked quietly to myself.

“But if you think it’s beneath you, you can leave,” Harry continued, a sly smile on his face. Neville chuckled softly under his breath, but no one left.

“Okay,” Harry paused, “I reckon we should all divide into pairs and practice.”

I turned to Neville and Hermione; we were at a crossroads – we usually had four, so we could always have partners.

“Oh for the love of Merlin, just partner up with each other, I’ll be fine,” Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Thanks Hermione,” Neville and I muttered in embarrassment. We turned towards each other, raising our wands hesitantly.

“Fighting against you is not something I thought I’d do,” Neville laughed.

“No, me neither,” I grinned, “Well, I mean, we did do all those spells last year –“

“True,” Neville nodded, “You ready?”

Everyone was partnering up; Hermione had paired up with Sam, but there was an odd number of people without Harry, so he partnered up with Ginny.

“Right,” he shouted to the room, “on the count of three, then – one, two, three –“

“ _Expelliarmus_!” I shouted a fraction of a second before Neville did; as he said the word himself, his wand went spinning out of his hand and landed on a bookshelf. I grinned cheekily at him and he stuck his tongue out at me; I walked over and grabbed the wand and gave it back to him. Harry was looking around at everyone as he practiced with Ginny, clearly observing how everyone was doing with it. I turned back to Neville, who looked determined to beat me this time.

“ _Expelliarmus!”_ we both shouted in unison, but he was faster than me; my wand flew out of my hand and he actually managed to catch it, grinning happily at me.

“I’ll get you back for that one,” I laughed. Neville just beamed wider.

Ginny walked over to us; Harry was wandering around the room.

“Alright, you two, I need to practice and Harry has to teach,” she rolled her eyes.

“Sure, pick your poison,” Neville chuckled.

“I’ll take my chances with you, first,” Ginny grinned.

“Oh trust me, he’s not nearly as bad as you’d think,” I laughed.

“Oi!” Neville shouted in protest as he and Ginny faced each other. Neville actually got her the first time, but their second try she got him back much faster, clearly kicking herself mentally for underestimating him.

I faced Ginny then, and she got me first, which made my face flush in embarrassment; Harry was walking by, staring at us, and I angrily cast the spell, causing Ginny to be thrown back onto her feet in shock.

“Maggie, you don’t need that much energy behind the spell – it’s all about keeping a level head, if you’re too angry you could knock out your opponent, and you don’t always want that,” Harry explained.

“Alright,” I muttered sheepishly.

“Figures, Maggie’s got an anger problem,” Ginny laughed.

“Hey, this is a great improvement over two months ago,” Neville pointed out.

“True, and I’m glad that’s why you’re having problems with the spell,” Harry smiled, looking around the room as people continued to cast it at each other, “Blimey, I need to get their attention…”

A whistle appeared on a nearby table; he grabbed it and blew into it hard, and everyone lowered their wands.

“That wasn’t bad,” Harry said, “But there’s definite room for improvement. Let’s try again…”

We continued practicing well into the evening; it was extremely entertaining to do and we were all getting increasingly better at is as the night progressed. Eventually, everyone seemed to be getting tired – and it was getting very late.

Harry blew his whistle; everyone immediately stopped dueling.

“Well, that was pretty good,” Harry paused, “But we’ve overrun, we’d better leave it here. Same time, same place next week?”

“Sooner!” Dean Thomas responded eagerly, and most of the room nodded in agreement.

“Don’t forget Quidditch!” Alicia sighed from the corner of the room.

“Let’s say next Wednesday night, then,” Harry paused, “And we can decide on additional meetings then… we’d better get going, everyone, go.”

Harry watched them all leave on the Marauder’s Map; only the four of us and Ginny stayed behind until everyone had gone.

“You did great, Harry,” Ginny beamed at him. He beamed back, and the two fo them kissed; Hermione scowled almost imperceptibly behind him.

“Yeah, mate, great job,” Neville nodded.

“That was really, really good,” Hermione agreed, composing herself after the kiss, “Seriously, I think that it’s a good omen for the rest of the lessons…”

“Did you see me disarm Ginny?” Neville grinned eagerly.

“Oh come on, I got you the same number of times you got me –“ Ginny laughed.

“I got both of you, too, you know,” I laughed.

“Yeah, when you weren’t so _angry_ at being disarmed yourself that you would practically make us explode,” Neville chuckled.

“I maintain in a real duel you would _want_ your opponent to explode,” I muttered irritably.

“Not always,” Harry shook his head in bemusement, “Duels aren’t only to get away and live another day, Mags.”

“Bleh,” I stuck my tongue out at him as we all wandered down the corridors. The others waved as they left for the Gryffindor tower; I watched them go somewhat whistfully.

“What’s wrong?” Neville asked curiously.

“I just… sometimes I miss living in there, that’s all,” I sighed, “I do love our friends.”

“Yeah, me too,” Neville agreed, “Maybe next year we can go back… when the jerk isn’t there.”

“Mabye,” I paused, “Doesn’t change the nightmare problem, though.”

Neville sighed heavily, “No, it doesn’t.”

“What are you two doing out of bed at this hour?” simpered a sweet voice behind us. We turned around slowly to face Umbridge; aka, literally my worst nightmare.

“We were studying, we’re headed to the Common Room now,” I answered calmly, my heart pounding my chest.

“Your common room is back that way,” she stated, smiling widely.

“Yeah, er, we got distracted in our discussion,” Neville lied quickly.

“Well, see to it that you get back to _where you belong_ now, or else I’ll have to take points off!” she simpered, watching us intently. We turned and walked back to the Gryffindor Tower, Neville letting us in with the password – thank god he was a Prefect – and we went inside. The Common Room was almost completely empty, except for… Ginny and Harry, snogging on one of the couches.

“This is a nice sight to see,” Neville commented lightly. Both of them jumped in shock.

“What are you doing here?” Harry practically squeaked in surprise.

“Umbridge caught us walking to the room. We have to chill here for a bit until it’s safe to go back,” I sighed.

Harry muttered, his face red with embarrassment, as Ginny got up and grabbed the Map from his bag and handing it to us.

“You can watch for the coast to be clear on here,” Ginny offered, blushing furiously herself, “Erm… sorry about that.”

“How could you have known we were coming in?” Neville shook his head in bemusement.

“Yeah, honestly, _we’re_ sorry,” I agreed.

“I’m… going to go to bed,” Harry finally spluttered, “Night, guys.” He and Ginny talked for a few minutes as Neville and I stood there awkwardly; they kissed again, and he wandered up the stairs.

“Are you going to bed too, then?” I asked, still feeling embarrassed.

“No…” Ginny paused, looking at us, “Can I ask you guys something?”

“Of course,” Neville and I responded in unison.

“Bloody hell, you have to stop _doing_ that – anyway… erm… you both are… _happy_ that Harry and I are together, right?” she asked nervously.

“Of course we are,” I answered before I could think about it. Neville nodded furiously next to me.

“Alright… I just… erm…” Ginny sighed heavily, “I get the feeling you aren’t _completely_ happy.”

“You… er… you know _why_ , right?” Neville muttered softly. Ginny’s face fell.

“I didn’t… _know_ … but I had an inkling, yes,” Ginny paused, “I’d hoped it wasn’t true.”

“Sorry Gin,” I sighed.

“It’s really not that we’re not happy for you,” Neville continued, “But we’re torn, you see?”

“I really want the _three_ of you to _all_ be happy,” I paused, “It’s just hard to reconcile that right now, apparently.”

“Yeah,” Ginny agreed; we were all sitting on the couch now, “I understand that.”

“Like, I’m really happy you’re happy, and I’m really happy Harry’s happy…” I frowned.

“But Hermione’s in a right state about it, and it’s hard to talk her out of it,” Neville agreed.

“So on the one hand, I’m really glad for you both, but on the other hand, I’m constantly trying to comfort her, and it’s basically two opposing states of mind…” I sighed.

“It’s driving us mental, to be honest. We’re hoping that eventually everyone involved is just… is just at peace with the situation, but we don’t know how that would even happy,” Neville grumbled in annoyance.

“Well, we _are_ really happy right now,” Ginny mumbled sheepishly.

“That’s great!” I responded enthusiastically, “Seriously.”

“And Harry seems really happy, too,” Neville agreed, “So we’re happy about it. Honest.”

“Alright,” Ginny nodded, “I’m sorry I’ve put you both in this position.”

“You really haven’t done anything,” I shook my head, “This is no one’s fault at all.”

“Except maybe society’s for not encouraging polyamorous relationships,” Neville grinned. I elbowed him in the side.

“I don’t think I’d want to do that, regardless,” Ginny rolled her eyes, “Hermione isn’t exactly my type.”

“Not all polyamorous relationships involve three people all equally into each other,” Neville shrugged, “You can have one person with two partners, as long as everyone is consenting…”

“True, but… honestly guys, I don’t think Hary fancies Hermione _at all_ ,” Ginny frowned in embarrassment, “Which is why I’m not… honestly, worried about it.”

I sighed heavily, “On the one hand, I’m happy for you; on the other hand, I don’t like hearing that.”

“Yeah,” Neville agreed.

“I know,” Ginny shrugged, “I don’t really know what to say…”

“It’s okay,” I reassured, “You’re fine. Just be good to him, and make sure he’s good to you, and don’t be _rude_ to Hermione or anything, and we’ll all be fine.”

“Thanks guys,” Ginny smiled at us, “I’m going to bed. Night.”

“Night,” we responded, looking at each other and frowning.

“I really hope Hermione will be okay,” Neville sighed after a moment.

“Yeah, me too,” I agreed, “She needs to focus on school and the DA, I think. It’ll definitely take her mind off everything.”

“Agreed,” Neville nodded, looking at the map, “Umbridge is in her bedroom. Shall we go?”

“We shall,” I beamed, and we walked out of the Common Room and down to our bedroom. I was still in a good mood after the DA meeting – it was refreshing to see so many people on our side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment, guys! Thank you!


	63. Chapter Sixty - Two: October 10 - November 1, 1995, Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "They say we are what we are 
> 
> But we don't have to be 
> 
> I'm bad behavior but I do it in the best way 
> 
> I'll be the watcher (watcher) of the eternal flame 
> 
> I'll be the guard dog of all your fever dreams 
> 
> Oooooooh 
> 
> I am the sand in the bottom half of the hourglass (glass, glass) 
> 
> Oooooooh 
> 
> I try to picture me without you but I can't 
> 
> Cause we could be immortals, immortals 
> 
> Just not for long, for long 
> 
> And live with me forever now 
> 
> You pull the blackout curtains down 
> 
> Just not for long, for long 
> 
> We could be immooooooooo - immortals." 
> 
> ~ Fall Out Boy, "Immortals".

Chapter 62: October 10 – November 1, 1995, Hogwarts

DA meetings were seriously some of the best things to ever happen to me. Sure, I still had nearly daily meetings with McGonagall to work on charms and research – and I was making progress on both, though it was slow in both camps; and sure, every weekend my peace was destroyed by practicing with Shae, but that was still useful, as I felt like I was really learning how to fight.

It was amazing the amount of skill and agility it took to be good at Dracudo – I was constantly jumping around like a maniac, making moves to doge and deflect attacks, and I could literally run across any sort of surface without any trouble, now – and I was much better at jumping from place to place to reach new ledges and surfaces. It was also a lot easier to hang from places that were difficult to hold on to, to climb walls, and perform other basic feats of agility. I was also much more adept at predicting the movements of the people around me just by observing their behavior.

But the DA, on the other hand, was some of the most fun, and most uplifting, moments of my fifth year at Hogwarts. And still, I felt like I was learning a lot – and really preparing for what was out there, which allowed me to sleep better than I had in months.

It wasn’t that hard to get the word out – though it was pretty conspicuous, running back and forth throughout the Great Hall together. I could swear that Umbridge knew something was up; so Hermione hatched a plan. The night we had finished learning _Expelliarmus_ , Hermione came in with a basket of what looked to be gold coins, facing the entire group excitedly. Harry frowned at her curiously, his eyebrows rose into his ever-increasing-in-volume bangs on his forehead.

 “Well, we need a way of communicating the date and times of meetings, yes?” Hermione explained hurriedly, beaming around at the room.

“Well, yeah, it’s starting to look pretty suspicious that so many of us from different houses are running all over the Great Hall all the time,” Ron piped up.

“Yes, exactly. Well I’ve made these coins – see, on normal Galleons, the numbers on the side are serial numbers that refer to the goblin who cast the coin. Well on these, they’ll refer to the date and time of the next meeting,” Hermione explained excitedly, “The coins will grow hot when the date changes, so if you’re carrying them in a pocket you’ll be able to feel them. We take one each, and when Harry sets the date of the next meting he’ll change the numbers on _his_ coin, and because I’ve put a Protean Charm on them, they’ll all change to mimic his.”

Everyone looked at Hermione in shock.

“Well… I _thought_ it was a good idea,” Hermione muttered in embarrassment, “I mean, even if Umbridge asked us to turn out our pockets, there’s nothing fishy about carrying a Galleon, is there? But… well, if you don’t want to use them…”

“I can’t believe I didn’t think of that,” I sighed softly.

“You can do a Protean Charm?” Terry Boot asked in surprise.

“Well, yes,” Hermione flushed madly, “Maggie can too, she showed me how last year –“

“But that’s… that’s N.E.W.T. level transfiguration, that is,” Terry mumbled.

“Oh… well, yes, I suppose it is…” Hermione blushed furiously.

“How come you’re not in Ravenclaw?” Terry demanded, staring at Hermion in wonder, making her flush further, “With brains like yours?”

“Well, the Sorting Hat did seriously consider putting me in Ravenclaw during my Sorting,” Hermione mumbled, “But it decided on Gryffindor in the end. So does that mean we’re using the Galleons?”

Everyone murmured in assent and collected from the basket.

“These remind me of Death Eater’s tattoos,” Harry commented lightly as they all came forward.

“Well… erm… yes,” Hermione flushed madly, “That _is_ where I got th idea… but you’ll notice I decided to engrave the date on bits of metal rather than on our mmbers’ skins…”

“Oh I definitely prefer your way,” Harry responded brightly, “I suppose the only danger with thes is that we might accidentally spend them.”

We left to go down to the Common Room together, Neville chuckling softly to himself.

“Oh _what_ is it, Neville?” Hermione sighed.

“Well, I reckon Terry fancies you after this,” he chortled. Hermione colored madly.

“Oh come _on_ , you’ve got to be joking –“

“He did look positively enamored,” I giggled. Hermione spluttered in embarrassment.

“Don’t be ridiculous, they’d be terrible together, they barely know each other!” Harry shouted, looking affronted, “She should be with someone who – who knows her!”

“Why?” I asked, though some hope entered my heart for Hermione at these words.

“Well – I mean – she deserves – I dunno – Hermione should be – I erm – I’m going to go,” Harry finally stammered out, looking flustered, and turning to walk in the opposite direction.

“Harry, the Common Room is this way –“ Neville shouted in shock at his retreating back.

Hermione was blushing so hard I couldn’t help but snort, which made her blush harder and run off to th Common Room, leaving Neville and me dumbstruck in the hallway.

“Well that’s a new on,” Neville snorted. I shrugged wordlessly as we walked back to our room.

We were all bonding pretty seriously, too, which was great – it was the kind of inter-house unity that we really needed in these trying times. So, we kept moving around and switching up partners, getting to know the other members of the group.  

“Alright you lot, let’s try Impediment Jinx,” Harry began one lesson, wandering around the room, “Pair up with someone new – hell, let’s go outside the box. Make sure your partner is from a different house than yours! Come on, we gotta stick together.”

I turned and found myself paired up with Ernie Macmillan, who smiled at me. I rolled my eyes and raised my wand, grinning slightly at him.

“ _One – two – three!_ ” Harry shouted.

“ _Impedimenta!_ ” Erne shouted before I even could get it out; I was frozen in place for ten second, my mind reeling with fury. Ernie looked proud of himself, and I quickly turned to cast it back on him, laughing maniacally at the horrified expression on his face when I did it.

“Good job, both of you,” Harry praied, “Though, Ernie, your stance could use a little work again – you keep waving your wand in a flourish, it’s superfluous…”

I snorted happily; Ernie glared at me.

“Now, Maggie, don’t act cocky, you keep hesitatitng – you’re such an instinctual person, you need to let that instinct direct your magic as well,” Harry scolded. I flushed madly.

“It’s easier to know exactly what to do with my fists than with my wand,” I muttered in annoyance.

“Yes, well, we’ll work on that,” Harry reassured.

Neville was flourishing in the D.A., whether it was because we had a decent teacher or because the teacher was one of his best mates, it didn’t matter. An impressive showing was given by him on the first day we learned the Reductor Curse.

“Alright, I want everyone to practice on objects in the room, not on each other – let’s not be murderous, now,” Harry paused, “Let’s do it one at a time, see what you lot can do.”

Everyone lined up and faced a wall of random, useless objects that had appeared at Harry’s words. I was behind Neville in line, and I knew he was somewhat nervous, as everything before hand hadn’t put each one of us on display like this.

Hermione was first, and she conducted the spell perfectly; Sam soon after her also managed to do so, though few others did. I nervously watched as Neville walked up to the wall of objects, his wand raised.

“ _Reducto!_ ” he shouted, and a table carrying some of the objects instantly turned to dust. He grinned happily, turning to Harry in joy.

“Great job, Neville! Guys, see how Neville waved his wand as he did that? Very important, that clockwise rotation – Nev, do it again –“

Neville was still beaming as we left the Room that night, practically skipping all the way back to our bedroom.

In fact, he was so confident due to the D.A., that I often found him helping me out – somehow, he was better at defensive magic than me, though this wasn’t really so much of a surprise, as defensive spells were more similar to charms than they were to transfigurative spells. The week we learned the Trip Jinx, we partnered up with one another, and I was having a significant amount of trouble with it.

“ _Cadarsus!_ ” I shouted irritably, getting more frustrated on my fifth try. Neville – who, for all of his blossoming since first year, was still a klutz – and still, he only wobbld due to my spell.

“Damn it!” I shouted. Neville chuckled softly, making me more annoyed.

“How is it that you ran into a fucking _pillar_ when we were in the Chamber of Secrets, and sustained a minor concussion, and I still can’t trip you!” I groaned.

“Oi!” Neville shoutd in protest, “You fell in the water!”

Everyone was watching us; we never talked about the adventurs we had had in the past.

“In my defense, I was running around the basilisk trying to get it and slipped – you were just not watching where you wer going –“

“I was distracted by the _giant bloody snake_!” Neville was laughing hard as he said this, “I mean, come on, we were losing –“

“Nah, all you had to do was give it a sharp jab, you would have been fine –“

“Easier said than done, why didn’t any of your arrows hit it in the head?”

“I’d like to see you hit it at all!”

 “This isn’t about me, you’d been training with that bow for two years, surely your aim was good enough to hit the thing in the head –“

“I hit it in its body!”

“And I, meanwhile, had never held that sword in my life, but I was doing fine with it!” Neville grinned cheekily at me.

“That doesn’t count, you are the – erm – never mind,” I realized in that moment that everyone was staring at us. Neville flushed madly.

“What is he?” Dean Thomas asked curiously.

Neville groaned loudly. Harry was grinning happily behind him, watching the proceedings eagerly.

“I’d rather… not say…” he mumbled into his hands.

“Okay, but that’s not fair,” Zacharias Smith shouted. I looked at him angrily; I got along with most every member of the D.A., except for him, and Marietta Edgecomb, who looked perpetually unhappy to be there.

“I mean, we’ve heard what Harry’s done – but he’s said that you all were with him some of the time! So what did you all do, then?” Smith insisted. I looked back and forth between Neville and him.

“Oh bullocks, let’s have story time, come on,” Harry rolled his eyes, “Everyone’s done good today, anyway; we can take a break.

A bunch of bean bag chairs appeared all around the room; people got into them eagerly as the four of us stood awkwardly at the front of the room.

“Alright…” I paused, looking at Harry, “You wanna go first?”

“Sure,” Harry nodded, “So first year, right, we figured some weird shit was going on – I mean, it’s Hogwarts, what else is new – but there was this package that Hagrid had taken from Gringotts, and there was a bloody three headed dog on the third floor, and well, I ran into Voldemort in the forbidden forest…”

“Kind of,” Hermione amended. Harry glared at her.

“What? He was on the back of Quirrell’s head!”

Someone snorted with laughter, Harry grinned and kept going.

“Well, anyway, we figured out that the package was the Philosopher’s Stone, so we went to the third floor to try and stop Voldemort from getting the thing – and there were all these obstacles that the professors had put up, you see, to stop anyone from getting it –“

“You did this as first years?” Ada Charan asked in shock.

“Yeah, it went… interestingly,” Harry snorted.

“Oh man,” I rolled my eyes, feeling uncharacteristically social, “So first, we had to play music to make the three headed dog fall asleep… then, we landed in some Devil’s Snare…”

“And I realized what it was immediately, of course,” Neville laughed, “And so did Hermione and Maggie, but Harry was bloody clueless, he was freaking out and making the thing attack him more –“

“And so Hermione,” I giggled, and she groaned in embarrassment, “Freaked out, because she knew fire would make the snare go away, but she shouts,”

“ _There’s no wood!_ ” Harry, Neville and I shouted in unison. Hermione groaned louder. The room burst into laughter at the ridiculousness.

“So then I was like, have you lost your mind? And I cast Incendio, but it was so funny –“ Neville chortled.

“We make fun of her for it all the time,” Harry grinned.

“I will never hear the end of this,” Hermione moaned.

“And then, there was this room filled with winged keys, and we had to find the right one for the door –“ I continued

“That must have been right up your alley,” Katie Bell grinned; she was currently cuddling with Alicia Spinnet in a corner of the room; it was fairly adorable.

“Oh yeah, that went just fine – but then we had the chessboard –“ Harry groaned.

“There were these _huge_ , life-sized chess pieces, and we had to play our way across the board, and _none_ of us are very good at chess,” I groaned.

“Bet you wish I’d been there,” Ron chuckled.

“No, seriously, we did, it was so difficult – we had to sacrifice Maggie to get across,” Neville groaned.

“So then Neville ran back to get word to Dumbledore because we realized, oh shit, we could die,” Harry laughed.

“And Harry and I went forward and there was this logic puzzle – you had to figure out which potion would get you through these enchanted flames that appeared at the doors – and there was only enough for one person to go forward, and one person to go back, so I went back to help Neville, and Harry continued on,” Hermione explained.

“And when I got there, Quirrell was waiting – and I was so confused, because I had thought Snape would have been helping Voldemort –“

“Not a ridiculous assumption, mate,” Sam snorted.

“And there was this mirror – the Mirror of Erised – shows your deepest desire – well Dumbledore put the bloody stone in it, and enchanted it so that you could only _get_ the damn thing if you wanted to find it but not use it, so of course I fucking got it, and Voldemort fucking knew, so Quirrell attacked me… and then, well…” Harry paused.

“See, Harry survived Voldemort as a baby by, erm…” I frowned, “Well, see, his mum didn’t have to die – Voldemort didn’t want to kill her – but she wouldn’t move out of the way, so she died to protect him, which is this powerful bit of magic, made Harry impossible to kill…”

“And that magic was still in my veins, and it is kind of this weird, pure good energy,” Harry shrugged, blushing madly, “So, when I touched Quirrell, I sort of… made his entire body turn to dust. Voldemort, who was only attached to his head, sort of… floated away, cause he didn’t have a body of his own.”

Everyone looked at us in shock, their mouths open – well, mostly at Harry in shock.

“Never liked him anyway,” Cedric Diggory said firmly, and everyone around him nodded in agreement.

“Then, second year – well, we wanted to find out who opened the Chamber, because, well, it wasn’t good, obviously,” Harry stammered.

“The Chamber of Secrets: It wasn’t good,” Ginny snorted, “That should be the slogan.”

“Oh shove off,” Harry blushed further, and Ginny beamed at him.

“Anywho, so we wanted to find out who was behind it – and we reckoned Malfoy was –“

Astoria, Claire, and Elena groaned from their corner. Hermione raised an eyebrow at them.

“Well, it’s just, Malfoy is a complete _twat_ ,” Astoria groaned, the other two nodding with her, “So we can understand why you’d think it’d be him.”

“Well, we made Polyjuice potion –“ Hermione continued.

“ _In second year?_ ” Terry Boot demanded, looking amazed again.

“Yes, in second year,” Hermione shook her head in bemusement, “And well, Neville and Harry and Maggie all went disguised as Crabbe, Goyle, and Parkinson to listen to him talk in the Slytherin Common Room…”

“Why didn’t you go?” Ron frowned.

“Well… erm… I thought I had gotten Bulstrode’s hair, but it was really her cat’s, and Polyjuice isn’t supposed to be used for animal transformations… so… erm… I was stuck in the Hospital Wing for a while,” Hermione sighed.

People roared with laughter again; Hermione blushed furiously.

“And well, Malfoy wasn’t it – he’s too big of a prat to be, let’s be real –“ I snorted, and people laughed with me.

“But then… Hermione got petrified, and so we went to go talk to Hagrid, cause he had been accused of doing it in the past,” Harry explained.

“And he got arrested, but he lead Harry and me into the fucking forest, because we had to ‘talk to the spiders,’” I groaned, “So we did, he apparently had raised an acrocramantula and it had a whole fucking family in there, and the spider explained that it hadn’t killed anyone because Hagrid asked him not to, and spiders were terrified of what was actually in the Chamber… and then they all tried to kill us…”

“And then this giant dragon comes out of the shadows – probably because they’re territorial,” Harry amended, helping to keep secret that I could fucking talk to dragons, “And then Maggie had this _crazy_ idea to fucking jump on the fucking thing, so we did, and it took off, so we flew over Hogwarts and jumped, landing in the lake…”

“It was mental!” I shouted, “We were riding a dragon!”

Everyone looked so impressed I wanted to melt into the floor with embarrassment.

“And then, well, Hermione had figured it out before she was petrified – she figured out that the thing in the Chamber was a basilisk,” Neville continued.

“So we went down there – long story, but we didn’t have any professors with us – and we went to try and rescue Ginny, who had been taken down there, see –“ I furthered.

“And well, Ginny, turns out, had been possessed by Voldemort the whole year to attack people with the snake, and Voldemort was getting his body back,” Harry paused.

“And then Fawkes came, because we showed Dumbledore loyalty or something?” I shook my head, “Fawkes is Dumbledore’s pet phoenix… And it brought the Sorting Hat and my bow and arrows…”

“And so I grabbed the hat and basically shouted at it to help us,” Neville grinned, “And suddenly this giant sword comes out –“

“The sword of Gryffindor,” I nodded, “And do you want to _know_ **why** it came out?”

Everyone nodded eagerly. I grinned over at Neville who groaned.

“Neville here,” I patted him on the shoulder, “Is the Heir of Godric Gryffindor.”

“No way!” Dean Thomas shouted.

“You’re joshing me!” Fred roared in amazement. Everyone was basically buzzing with eagerness.

“Nope, that’s what Dumbledore told me,” Neville muttered irritably.

“Dude, Neville, that’s _so cool –_ “ Lee Jordan shouted.

“Seriously, why don’t you brag about that all the time?” George chortled. Neville did an amazing job of containing any glare he may or may not have had.

“Well, we had to fight the snake then,” I continued before Neville could respond innapropritely, “And it was ridiculous, we were running around it, and I was trying to shoot arrows into it without opening my eyes, cause it can kill you by looking at you…”

“And then Fawkes attacked the basilisk and basically gouged out its eyes, it was so badass,” Harry grinned, “So then we could fight again – I distracted it, cause I was the fastest one, and Maggie kept shooting arrows, and Neville kept chopping at it with the sword –“

“I cut off the tip of its tail,” Neville grinned eagerly.

“And then I slipped and fell into water, because the chamber is under the lake, so it basically has pools and shite, and Neville pulled me up out of the water while Harry distracted the snake –“ I explained

“But then I may have slipped and hit my head on a pillar which was… not good,” Neville snorted.

“So I shouted for the sword, and as the snake lunged at me I stabbed the roof of its head… but it managed to bite me…” Harry sighed.

“But! Phoenix tears have healing powers,” I grinned, “So he was patched right up and we got rid of Voldy-pants again and saved Ginny’s life…”

“And then third year, of course, Harry had to learn how to conjure a patronus because, well, dementors don’t mix well with him, and he did –“ Neville continued.

“But when Sirirus Black was on the Grounds, a whole bunch of them attacked us, and Harry managed to fight them back,” Hermione beamed, “With his own corporeal patronus, it was stunning –“

There was so much of third year that we couldn’t say that I chose to leave it at that, “And you guys all basically know what happened to us last year…”

“You lot are mental,” Claire snorted, shaking her head in amusement.

“Seriously, do you have any sense of self preservation?” Alicia Spinnet laughed.

“No,” the four of us answered in unison before we could stop ourselves. The group roared in laughter.

“See, the thing is…” Hermione paused, “Well, the Wizarding World is quite screwed up, isn’t it? I mean, there’s prejudice against muggle-borns…”

“Against werewolves, and let’s face it guys, Lupin was the best Defense teacher we ever had,” I pointed out.

“Against giants, and Hagrid wouldn’t hurt a fly… a mosquito, sure, but a fly, no,” Hermione nodded.

“And there’s something sketchy with house-elf enslavement, I don’t _care_ if they like it, there is something to be said for the brainwashing of the masses,” Neville nodded firmly.

“And just, this terrible treatment of anyone who isn’t a pureblood witch, or even better, wizard – it’s absurd, the prejudices are basically written into _law_ ,” Harry groaned.

“So we’ve spent a lot of our time looking up things – researching prejudice in our world – it’s like the entirety of Wizarding society is geared towards halting progress, towards keeping things the way they are, which isn’t good, it’s like we’re stuck in the middle ages, and you know, magic is wonderful, of course, but there _is_ something to say for innovation and moving forward…” Hermione sighed.

“We actually had the idea to form a group about that sort of thing a while ago,” I admitted, “We wanted to… I dunno… have a rebellion? Inspire change? Work to _fix_ all these things? There’s a lot of work to do, but we had to start somewhere…”

“I mean, it’s this kind of thing that lead to Voldemort being a thing in the first place. He just preys off of people’s prejudices,” Neville shrugged, “If we fix the society itself, Voldemort wouldn’t have any power…”

“But then he went and came back,” Harry groaned, “And I mean, we realized we had to sort out our priorities, as it were… Voldemort’s here, and we have to defend ourselves against him. Fixing society can come later.”

“Why should it have to?” Cho Chang piped up. Harry looked shocked at this.

“I mean, come on – all those things you said – that’s why Umbridge is here, isn’t it?” she asked. Many people in the crowd nodded.

“She wouldn’t have any power, either, if we fixed the corruption of the Ministry,” Cho went on, “And the corruption of the Ministry, I assume, is largely in part due to things you’ve found out about?”

“Yes,” Hermione nodded fiercely, “It’s all about keeping people like… well, like the Malfoys, in power… and keeping people like Lupin at the bottom of the totem pole.”

“Well, we can work on defensive magic _and_ taking down the establishment at the same time,” Dean Thomas grinned eagerly, “Why not both, right?”

“Hey,” Zacharias Smith sneered, “I didn’t sign on for any _rebellion –_ “

“No, you didn’t,” Hermione acknowledged, “But what’s the point of fighting Voldemort if the circumstances that lead to his rising to power are still in place? We can do all we can to defeat Voldemort, but if things stay the way they are, another person just like him will eventually come around…”

There was a general murmuring of agreement. Apparently we had commanded enough respect with them with our actions – and Harry’s teaching – to convince them quite easily.

Smith scowled, but he didn’t apparently have a response to this.

“How do we fight against Umbridge without being found out, though?” Michael Corner pointed out, “I mean the woman is like the most annoying cross between a toad and a hawk. She fucking sees everything.”

“True, which is why we weren’t really aiming to bring this up,” I sighed, “It’s hard to just completely ignore it, though…”

“I think microagressions are a pretty good way to go,” Nadia Hamidi, a sixth year from Ravenclaw with tanned skin and a hijab, grinned mischieviously, “I mean, we all can be difficult in her classes… not put up with her nonsense whenever we can…”

“We could put up pamphlets around the school, about how Voldemort’s back,” Colin Creevey piped up eagerly, “You four shouldn’t do it, obviously, but the rest of us could – she wouldn’t know what hit her…”

“And we could vandalize her office,” Fred grinned, “Pull pranks on her, the good old days.”

“The point isn’t really to take down Umbridge, though that is a bonus,” Neville frowned.

“True, but making her life hell is a wonderful thing,” Alicia snorted, “And honestly, we could also put up pamphlets on how the wizarding world is screwed up… take all the research you lot have, put it in poster form…”

“This all sounds rather risky, though,” Katie frowned at her girlfriend and the group, “I mean… if we get caught, it could mean the end of the D.A.”

“What point would a Defense Association – _Dumbledore’s Army_ – even be if we didn’t raise a little hell?” Cedric Diggory grinned slyly.

“Hear, hear!” Ernie cheered.

“Well, we can certainly call out bullshit in the Slytherin Common Room, we’re second years now, and Elena has kicked enough asses for people to not approach her anymore,” Claire grinned.

“Thank you, Hermione granger, for teaching me Tai Chi,” Elena bowed. Hermione beamed back.

“Seriously, now all that’s annoying in the common room is how much Malfoy complains about Harry,” Claire shook her head in bemusement.

“How much does he?” Neville asked curiously.

“A lot,” Claire, Elena, and Astoria answered in unison.

“A _lot_ , a lot?” Fred asked, grinning eagerly.

“Erm… yes?” Astoria frowned.

“Well, I reckon, you Slytherins could have a really good little drinking game,” Fred grinned.

“Ooh, yes,” George nodded next to him, “Everyone takes a drink any time Malfoy _mentions_ Harry.”

Elena and Claire looked at each other, smirking. Astoria was shaking her head in bemusement.

“Honestly, it could get people killed,” Elena paused.

“But it’s _brilliant_ ,” Claire grinned, “I can make it happen if you guys can get us alcohol.”

“Can and will do!” Fred grinned, “Let us know when it’s happening.”

“Oh, obviously,” Claire laughed.

“At any rate, it’s getting late, guys,” Harry looked at his watch, “I’ll let you know when it’s the next meeting.”

Not a few days after that, very few Slytherins were in the Great Hall at all at breakfast. I looked at Harry in confusion, who shrugged wordlessly. Dumbledore actually got up to make an announcement, even though it was only breakfast.

“Attention, students!” he greeted, smiling slightly. We all looked up at him in shock. Most of the school was there, since classes would start relatively soon.

“I have a slight announcement,” Dumbledore paused, “I am here to announce the banning of a certain game.”

There was a tittering around the hall; Umbridge looked outraged that Dumbledore seemed to have any pull over the school at all.

“This game is a game involving alcoholic beverages. As far as I am aware, the point of the game is to take a drink of something with alcohol every time Draco Malfoy say something about Harry Potter,” Dumbledore paused.

The majority of the school – the honest to goodness majority – burst into roars of laughter. I was practically crying, falling out of my seat. Harry was bowing to the whole hall happily.

“This game originated in Slytherin House and the entirety of it appeared to have played. Needles to say, they are all in the Hospital Wing today,” Dumbledore paused as the laughter grew louder; the Weasley twins high-fived each other happily.

“So, this game is officially banned. If I hear of any student playing it, they _will_ receive a week’s detentions. Also… I do not feel I should have to say this… but drink responsibly,” Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled slightly behind their spectacles.

Everyone was still laughing; Malfoy, meanwhile, had turned bright red. I watched him between my chortles as he muttered, still loud enough for everyone to hear, “This is obviously Potter’s fault.”

The whole hall burst into laughter again, and suddenly Snape was digging in his robes. He produced a hip flask, opened it, and took a swig. The laughter grew louder, and people were even cheering, which was surprising for Snape; Dumbledore was shaking his head in bemusement. He approached the hall again.

“This ruling _also applies to professors!_ We must set an example!” Dumbledore scolded. Snape just grinned, an expression that wasn’t usual on his face, but people were clapping happily. Malfoy, meanwhile, had gotten up and left, stalking angrily out of the hall.

This entire showing put me in a fantastic mood for the rest of the day; in which I literally was beaming from class to class.

Frankly, D.A. meetingas _always_ put me into a fantastic mood. And now, as we would socialize outside of meetings, too, I found myself having more friends than I ever had before. Sam was bemused by the turn of events, as he also was constantly being bombarded by others.

We were walking to charms together, and Anthony Goldstein was eagerly talking to Sam about something that I wasn’t really paying attention to. As we entered the charms classroom and Goldstein turned to talk to Terry Boot, Sam looked at me in shock.

“I hate him, why the hell is he talking to me?” Sam groaned.

“Probably because you’re in a club together,” I grinned.

“This is _your_ fault, Johnson!” Sam roared, stalking away from me to the back of the room, “ _Your_ fault!”

I laughed uncontrollably, taking my seat next to Neville and clutching my sides in joy.

Honestly, talking to everyone at D.A. meetings, practicing defensive spells, and calling out the bullshit conservativism of our world made me feel like I was almost completely recovered. I could handle seeing George on a more frequent basis, though I didn’t particularly like it; I hardly ever had nightmares anymore, not even about getting locked into a room. And, I was in so much of a better place, I was actually starting to think that I would soon be ready to be with Neville, provided he would actually tell me what happened to his parents.

One day, when we were practicing the Tickling Charm, I was paired up with Elena. Elena really had grown from the last year – she was much more confident, much more prepared to defend herself, and much braver. Still, I could tell that her problems from last year weren’t quite over – occasionally I would see an unfathomable sadness in her eyes that I had no idea how to fix.

“Are you ready, sis?” Elena grinned cheekily. I stuck my tongue out at her, bouncing on my toes.

“Ready as I’ll ever be – bring it!” I laughed. Elena raised her wand, and I raised mine, and we faced each other eagerly –

“ _Rictusempra!_ ” I shouted, and she got hit, falling back and laughing heavily. I grinned eagerly, and waited until the spell wore of, beaming at Elena.

“Oh I will _get_ you for that,” Elena chortled.

“I’d like to see you try!” I smirked, raising my wand.

“ _Rictusempra!_ ” Elena retorted as I shouted, “ _Protego!_ ” The spell was deflected to the wall. Elena glared at me and then shouted, “ _Cadarsus!_ ”

I wasn’t mentally prepared for the tripping jinx; I fell backwards and felt someone catch me. I stopped breathing in shock as I looked up and saw Neville, who was grinning at me.

Elena had turned away and walked to talk to Claire; I blushed furiously and stumbled upwards, straightening out my clothes.

“Thanks,” I muttered in embarrassment as everyone around us practiced the proper curse.

“No problem,” Neville smiled, still holding onto my arms. I looked up at him for a long minute, and he stared back at me – my heart was pounding in my chest again, and I realized how close we were, in the middle of a public space, where anyone could see us.

Hermione let out a little cough behind me and I jumped in shcok, quickly turning away from Neville and back to her, ready to practice the spell again. Neville was also flushing madly and quickly moved away to practice with someone else. Hermione smirked at me, making me glare at her and disarm her before she could do anything about it.

The other members of the D.A. were as good as their word and enthusiasm; pretty soon, around the castle, I started seeing little pamphlets and posters tacked up on bulletin boards and walls. None of them said that Voldemort was back – I guess people didn’t want to make Umbridge immediately come after Harry, Hermione, Neville, and me – but they were about things like House Elf rights, Werewolf prejudice, and the established structure of power that took away rights from muggle-borns and half-bloods.

I laughed whenever I saw one; it pleased me so much that I was practically skipping down the hall. It was good to be in Hogwarts in those days; those were the rare days in which things actually seemed to be working out.

My first Defense class after the posters went up, Umbridge looked furious.

“Mr. Potter, _Mr._ Longbottom, Miss Johnson, Miss Granger, my desk, _please_ ,” she simpered, but her tone of voice was clearly not pleased.

We came up, looking at each other in amusement.

“What,” she pulled out one of the posters, “Is the meaning of this?”

“Oh,” Harry frowned, “Never seen that before.”

“Is _that_ what’s up all around the halls?” I tried very hard to contain my grin, “How strange.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Umbridge hissed, “ _You_ four put those up –“

“That doesn’t look like any of our handwritings, professor,” Neville shrugged, “You’ve seen our essays.”

Umbridge spluttered in fury, but it was true – we all had pretty distinctive handwriting, and it didn’t match any of the posters.

“Do you know _who_ is behind this, then?” she hissed angrily.

“No clue,” Harry shrugged nonchalantly.

“Some of these words sound like _yours_ , Miss Granger –“

“Do they?” she gasped in mock amazement, “I had no idea… I wouldn’t take them to heart so much. Whoever’s doing this, is just a child, right?”

The look on her face must have nearly made Umbridge’s face explode.

“Go back to you desks, and read chapter fifteen,” she hissed angrily. We all turned away, grinning at each other; Parvati, Ron, and Dean all beamed at us as we sat down.

These were, truly, the good days. Too bad the good days never really could last forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah if this were a movie this would be the "they're becoming friends OMG" montage. Anyway, now that THAT'S out of the way, time for more Umbridge horribleness! The toad can't stay down for long!   
> Please comment! I really do live for them. Thanks!


	64. Chapter Sixty - Three: November 2, 1995, Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Can I clear my conscience 
> 
> If I'm different from the rest 
> 
> Do I have to run and hide? 
> 
> I never said that I want this 
> 
> This burden came to me 
> 
> And it's made it's home inside 
> 
> If I told you what I was 
> 
> Would you turn your back on me? 
> 
> And if I seem dangerous 
> 
> Would you be scared? 
> 
> I get the feeling just because 
> 
> Everything I touch isn't dark enough 
> 
> That this problem lies in me." 
> 
> ~ Imagine Dragons, "Monster".

Chapter 63: November 2, 1995, Hogwarts

The day of the first Quidditch Match of the season honestly didn’t feel all that different than normal. Sure, the excitement had been builildng around the castle for the event – after all, we hadn’t had Quidditch in ages; both the second years and the first years were experiencing the excitement of the House games for the first time. I wasn’t too terribly excited; just nervous for Harry, and hoping he would do well, with everything else that was on his plate.

I woke up late that morning; Shae had given me the day off, since everyone would be buzzing all over the castle and her presence would be noted. Dumbledore, however, had given her a way in to actually watch the match, since she had never seen a Quidditch game before (it really wasn’t as big of a deal over in America). I groggily got dressed and ready to go down and have lunch for breakfast; Neville must have already left. I opened the door, turning to walk down to the Great Hall, when I was startled by the sight of the great toad.

“Aha!” she shrieked in triumph. I felt all the blood drain from my face and my heart started pounding loudly in my chest.

“Aha what?” I asked nervously.

“So there _is_ something in that closet!” she hissed, “Professor McGonagall _insisted_ there was not, but I am not so easily fooled, oh no –“

“No, there’s nothing in there,” I lied smoothly, trying to act less like I had just woken up. Curse my infernal love of sleeping in.

“Then why were you in there? And how can you get in? None of the usual unlocking charms and passwords for professors work, Miss Johnson, I do not see why _you_ should be given access,” Umbridge insisted.

“Fine, there’s nothing in there that concerns you, Professor,” I had a lot of trouble controlling my sass on this matter. Umbridge’s eyes narrowed. It seemed when no one was around to serve as witness, she was a lot less concerned with appearing nice to me.

“I am the Hogwarts High Inquisitor! Everything in this castle concerns me – you could be constructing some sort of nefarious substance in there – to overthrow the Ministry!”

Wow. The bitch was as crazy as I’d feared.

“We are not,” I sighed, “I promise. We’re literally just working on my transfiguration research project.”

Umbridge’s eyes seemed to narrow further, “What is the subject of your research? McGonagall refused to tell me.”

“New methods of cross-species transfigruations in birds,” I answered honestly – never mind I was really looking at avian and draconian evolution, “We keep all the birds in there and we don’t want anyone messing with them. Not even Dumbledore can get in.”

Umbridge fumed for another long minute, “I do not see the need for you to conduct research as an O.W.L. student.”

“It relaxes me,” I answered honestly, “I have a bit of an anger problem.”

Her eyes squinted tightly, “I do not believe that is what you are doing.”

“Do you want to see some of our finished products? Because I’ll happily show you in her office,” I offered, “We really can’t let you in this room, there are enchantments on it and everything.”

Umbridge scoffed, “Fine, show me her _office.”_

I nervously walked into McGonagall’s office without knocking, hoping she wasn’t in there. Sadly, she was.

“What is the meaning of – Dolores! What are you doing here?” McGonagall demanded. I had taken to not knocking when we had scheduled meetings, so it was only the timing that surprised her about my presence.

“I have caught you, Minerva!” Umbridge shrieked, “I know you and this student have been engaged in nefarious activities in _that room!_ ”

“And I calmly explained to Professor Umbridge that it’s just where we’re keeping the birds for my research, Professor,” I explained, looking at her earnestly, “And we have enchantments on the room so only we can enter, since we don’t want anyone messing with the animals.”

“Of course,” McGonagall responded, catching on quickly, “Dolores, what sort of nefarious activities would I even be involved in with a student?”

“Plots to overthrow the Ministry! The construction of weapons to take down the Minister!” Umbridge screeched.

“You are out of line, Dolores,” McGonagall snapped, “We are doing nothing of the sort.”

“Then show me one of these _birds_ ,” Umbridge demanded.

“I don’t have any of the transfigured ones on hand – again, they’re all in the room, since they shouldn’t get out, they’re all failed attempts and probably would wreak havoc on the natural ecosystem – but here, I’ll demonstrate on one of these birds,” I managed to get out. My heart was pounding on my chest. We had almost perfected the theory – litearlly, we were due to practice it again any day now – but I wasn’t sure about some of the final diagrams. In addition, I hadn’t figured out a way to completely remove purely avian (and not maniraptoran) behavior, or how to shrink the brain of the raven without damaging it during the transfigurative process. Would I successfully create _Velociraptor_?

McGonagall nodded at me, hiding whatever fear she may have had very well – she should have been an actress. She went and grabbed a raven from one of the cages for the sixth year class, that she had so aside specifically for the purpose of our research – we had trained the raven to think of us oas friends, so that when we made the potentially dangerous _Velociraptor_ , it wouldn’t attack us. She took it out of its cage, since _Velociraptor_ was a bit bigger than a raven, and I raised my wand, breathing steadily.

“Just focus, Miss Johnson,” McGonagall urged, being more formal with me than usual. Honestly, the woman was like a second mother to me at this point.

I nodded, pursed my lips, and began muttering incantations, waving my wand and concentrating on velociraptorine anatomy, continually waving as the raven grew a longer tail, lost its beak and grew a snout and sharp, pointed teeth, formed an elongated skull, had its arms outstretched slightly and long claws grown on its fingers, grew longer legs with feathers all the way down rather than stopping abruptly midway, grew long sickle claws on the second toes, grew differently shaped feet, and grew bigger overall, with more fluffy feathers and fewer pennaceous feathers, though the ones on the wings stayed. The _Velociraptor_ looked up at me and chirrurped, the size of a coyote, and now sitting on the desk.

“Excellent work, Miss Johnson!” McGonagall praised.

“I think it’s perfect, except the brain,” I amended, looking at the somewhat large dome on the head of the raptor, “It still should be smaller –“

“We can run intelligence tests later, though you’re right, that looks to be the raven body ratio,” McGonagall frowned, “This is a very intelligent animal right now…”

The raptor was hissing slightly at Umbridge, who looked so shocked and taken aback that she paced backwards towards the door a few paces.

“Good thing we trained the raven to think of us as friends, eh?” I laughed. McGonagall smiled back at me.

“Oh yes, I’m not afraid of it. What will you name her?” she asked. I looked at the _Velociraptor_ for a long minute, considering hard.

“Hmm, erm, I think,” I looked at her for a long time. The plumage coloration was different than the raven from before – honestly, fixing color genes wasn’t that hard to do, the brain was harder to convert between organisms because of the need to shrink without losing necessary functions – it had slightly tannish yellow feathrs throughout most of its body, and a tuft of bright blue feathers on the tail. It’s wing feathers were also the same shade of blue; and it had a blue crest on the back of its head. The raptor looked up at me and chirrurped again. I reached out and gently scratched behind its head; its eyes closed like a bird’s (though that would really have been the same, I think, from _Velociraptor_ to the next – the eyes, we had figured through our diagrams, would have been similar). It honestly looked like a pet budgie or cockatiel getting scritchles, which made me smile wider.

“Blue,” I answered after a minute. McGonagall nodded, looking pleased.

“This is great work, Miss Johnson, real progress,” she smiled. Umbridge was still speechless in the back of the room.

“What should we do with her? She’s an actual success, we shouldn’t just keep her in the back of the aviary,” I explained, “Plus look at her, she doesn’t deserve to be cooped up.”

Blue squaked again, flapping her wings slightly to reveal the sharp claws underneath.

“If you can figure out how to contain her, you may keep her with you if you’d like,” McGonagall rolled her eyes, “Honestly, Miss Johnson –“

“Look at her face,” I pouted, scratching behind Blue’s ears again. Blue’s eyes scrunched up happily.

“That… is not an approved pet,” Umbridge managed to splutter out.

“She’s not a pet, she’s a research project,” McGonagall answered honestly, “We still have a lot of tests to run, and she shouldn’t be cooped up in a cage, she’s far too big.”

Umbridge looked at the three of us in complete shock, “What even _is_ that?”

“ _Velociraptor mongoliensis_ ,” I answere swiftly, “An imperfect one, though – still working out the kinks – the real ones probably weren’t this smart. And because its brain is still similar to a raven’s, it’s behavior is probably a mix of raven and raptor.”

“Mostly raptor, though, yes? Just an intelligent one,” McGonagall paused, “That’s been the trouble, is figuring out our behavior conversions –“

“Yes, I think so,” I nodded, “We’d have to… I dunno, let out ot to hunt something to really _know_ , but it should be mostly raptor.”

Umbridge was fuming now, “What is a _Velociraptor mongoliensis_?” she insisted angrily.

“A dinosaur,” I answered honestly, “One very closely related to birds, to be sure, but a non-avian dinosaur.” I knew the proper scientific term now, which was liberating; every time I had said not-bird I felt like an idiot.

“And _why_ , pray tell, did you feel the need to make one?” Umbridge hissed.

“To see if we could,” I answered honestly, “It’s been extinct for seventy million years. We wanted to test and see if we could use a combination of latent genes in the bird itself and known anatomy of the animal, and of course magic, to try and create an accurate one. We’re nearly there, now.”

“What is the point of this?” Umbridge shrieked.

“Understanding the past and dinosaurian anatomy,” I shrugged, “Fossils can only tell us so much, and it’s important to understand the past of this planet to understand its future – organismal evolution is difficult to understand over the long-term since we can’t physically see it happen, we can only see short-term processes, but then that means we have difficulty predicting what our actions will do to impact the long-term evolution of species, and what exactly long term morphological changes stem from and how they occur in organisms.”

Umbridge looked like I had just said a jumble of gibberish. I continued to pet and scratch Blue, hoping to keep her calm. Last thing we needed was for her to attack Umbridge right now. I’d be expelled for sure, and McGonagall would be sacked, and that wouldn’t be good for anyone.

“What pertinence does this have for magical theory? What does it mean for spell weaving, or the creation of new magical methods? These are Ministry approved research avenues –“

“Yeah, well, what good would magic be if we didn’t use to to understand our world?” I frowned, “And also, it means that we can do this with other organisms – and research evolution on a broader scale. Plus, it’s an avenue of research that hasn’t been done much in the UK, meaning I don’t have a lot of competitors here.”

Umbridge fumed again angrily.

“And it wouldn’t make sense for her to be researching spellweaving, Dolores, she hasn’t taken her O.W.L.s yet,” McGonagall hurriedly said, “She doesn’t know the first thing about elementalism or spellweaving. This is much more reasonably done with her current skill set. I didn’t want her to be _too_ far ahead of her classmates.”

Umbridge continued to look completely and utterly furious, as though she were about to blow a gasket. I took a deep breath, feeling possessive over Blue already.

“This is _not_ ,” Umbridge hissed, “A _Ministry – approved course of action!_ ”

“I didn’t need Ministry approval to do this, Dolores,” McGonagall spat, “I submitted the request to conduct private research with Miss Johnson two years ago. The Ministry approved it. Thus, doing transfiguration research with Miss Johnson is approved by the Ministry regardless of the activity. I submitted the proposed _project_ to the International Council of Transfiguration, who approved it and also gav us some funding to pay for the birds. You have no jurisdiction over this other than what has already been approved.”

Umbridge fumed even further, steam essentially coming out of her ears. However, she also seemed stumped; apparently McGonagall _had_ closed all the loopholes.

“I will be _checking_ with the International Council of Transfiguration to make sure this is the _approved_ project,” Umbridge snapped.

“Go right ahead, you’ll be pleased to find that everything is in order,” McGonagall said, her lips in a very thin line, “Are we quite done here?”

“I wish to question Miss Johnson further,” Umbridge managed to say, though her voice was strangled with fury. I looked over at McGonagall in fear.

“And why, pray tell, would you want to do _that_?” McGonagall demanded.

“I believe that she is involved in some sort of illicit activity, with or without this…. Approved action!” Umbridge hissed, “There have been pamphlets all over the school –“

“And as we already discussed, Dolores, none of them bear her handwriting,” McGonagall snapped, “You have no need to pester her about it further.”

“I disagree. I firmly believe that this is something that, if she did not do herself, she is involved in,” Umbridge insisted, “And I wish to question her about it.”

“Why not go right ahead and question Potter, Longbottom, and Grager while you’re at it?” McGonagall hissed herself, now looking furious to the point of deadliness, “You’ve been demanding to since the posters went up.”

“I do not think that will be necessary. I think questioning Miss Johnson will give me the gist of their involvement,” Umbridge smiled much too sweetly. I felt my heartrate pound uncontrollably.

“I have nothing to do with them!” I shouted, trying to look as earnest as possible. It was true. The posters were made by our friends, without our knowledge, so we could maintain plausible deniability. I only know about the idea, not who made them, not who printed them, nor who distributed them. I couldn’t answer any of Umbridge’s questions.

“I find that very difficult to believe –“

“This is harassment, Dolores,” McGonagall snapped, “You are harassing a student, which is not, in fact, allowed, according to the rules of the school!”

“There may very well be new school rules soon enough, Minerva!” Umbridge shrieked angrily.

McGonagall shook her head wordlessly, looking scandalized and terrified. I looked over at her in equal worry. Blue was hissing now at Umbridge, upset by the raised voices, and feeling territorial. She also, of course, was getting used to the whole being-a- _Velociraptor_ -thing.

“Miss Johnson will come with me for questioning, immediately,” Umbridge snapped, “It is my authority as the Hogwarts High Inquisitor to interrogate any student I believe may be inciting rebellion and subversion against the Ministry.”

“Go ahead, then, since none of my words will apparently stop you!” McGonagall responded shrilly, “I must find a new holding pen for Blue.”

I sighed; I knew McGonagall had tried everything she could. I could hear on the other side of the door all the students moving through the corridors, eagerly heading towards the Quidditch Match. It looked as though I was going to miss it.

 _Well, I’ve seen plenty of Quidditch in my lifetime_ , I thought gloomily, _I just hope Harry does okay._

I followed Umbridge out of the room, looking back at McGonagall and Blue worriedly. Blue still had her teeth bared, and McGonagall was frowning at me desperately. I followed the toad silently, walking through the corridors up to her office as quickly as I could. The sooner we got this over with, I figured, the better.

We entered her office; I sat down in front of her desk, hoping that this wouldn’t be the longest detention of my life. She stayed behind her desk, though, peering at me angrily from between her fingers.

“So,” she stated, looking determined and loathful at the same time, “You claim you have nothing to do with these posters that have been going around school.”

“I have nothing to do with them, no,” I insisted again, frowning angrily, “I didn’t make them, I’ve never even _touched_ one.”

“And yet,” Umbridge paused angrily, “These words – about the _humanity_ of werewolves,” she laughed extremely cruelly, setting my teeth on edge, “The… _intelligence_ of half-giants… The rules against muggle-borns within the Ministry beauracracy…”

“What about them?” I asked dully, trying to seem bored.

“They sound an _awful_ lot like the sorts of things I have heard you say in the past! Issues that I am aware you and your _friends_ ,” the word came out as a sneer, “are proponents of!”

“Just because we believe in these things, doesn’t mean we had anything to do with the pamphlets. If anything, the fact that we have a known history for believing in this egalitarian rhetoric, and yet have not done anything prior to now, means that we have a history of not acting on these beliefs,” I shrugged.

“Prior to now, you have not had any reason to act!” Umbridge hissed.

“What reason would there be at the moment for us to act?” I asked innocently, “If, as you say, Lord Voldemort is not back, then nothing truly has changed, has it?”

“My _position_ ,” Umbridge spat out, “At this school has lead to your action!”

“That’s not really a change, Professor,” I paused, “There have been plenty of professors who have acted in a similar manner to you, Namely, Professors Quirrell and Lockhart. Additionally, there are many students who uphold the old ways. Your presence here has not been an impetus in stirring us to action. Quite the contrary, with your heavily disciplinary hand, none of us are eager to cause much of a rumpus, for fear of punishment.” I tried to sound as honest as possible – it was true that we were more cautious than usual, and frankly, I didn’t want to get caught by her doing anything nefarious.

Umbridge fumed; my words _had_ made an impact.

“Well, then, I refuse to believe you didn’t insight other students into putting these up,” Umbridge spat, “You and your little gang _must_ have urged other students on.”

“We did nothing of the sort,” I responded promptly, “Sure, we’ve talked about this sort of thing in the past, however, we have never encouraged others to rebel in our stead. Any repetition is merely due to students listening to what we’ve had to say in previous school years, and acting on their own accord.”

Umbridge glared at me, peering closer to me, her face uncomfortably close to my own now. I stared at her intensely, refusing to break eye contact.

“Do you have any idea which students may be doing this, then?”

I shook my head, though now that I was officially lying, I had to clench my fists tightly to stop myself from showing any other sort of visceral reaction to the situation.

“No idea at all?” she insisted, “I’ve noticed that you and your little group have been spending more and more time with other students of late.”

I mentally cursed myself; we should have tried to act normal in the corridors.

“If you mean the Weasleys, Sam Lee, Luna Lovegood, my _sister_ , and her friend Claire, we’ve all been friends for a long time – the shortest a year. People can vouch -” I responded calmly.

“No, not just those students, though I will be questioning them as well,” Umbridge smiled much too sweetly, “I mean students such as Mr. Macmillan… Mr. Goldstein… Miss Hamidi… students from houses other than Gryffindor, and not in your immediate group of friends.”

“The Sorting Hat said we should have inter-house unity,” I shrugged, “And with O.W.L.s coming up, we’ve all been bonding over our shared misery.”

Umbridge smiled greater, “Not all of the students in question are in their fifth or seventh year.”

“No,” I admitted, “But again, inter-house unity. If they are doing any sort of nefarious activity, it isn’t to my knowledge. I’ve spent most of the time I spend with them talking about schoolwork.”

Umbridge glared wider, “I hope you realize that I have a careful list of all the students you and your friends have been associating with of late.”

“That’s rather creepy of you,” I responded, before I could change my words.

“It is my job to ensure that no illegal activities take place at Hogwarts! The Minister has entrusted me with the duty to stamp out any rebellious –“

“What part of a study group, or a group of friends, is illegal or rebellious?” I frowned at her innocently.

“If you are studying _illegal things_!” Umbridge screeched.

“What the hell would be illegal for us to study?” I demanded, now getting angry.

“Dark magic! Defensive magic! Magic that could be turned against the Ministry!” Umbridge roared.

“You do realize that none of us know any dark magic, and we learn defensive magic in your class,” I stared at her intensely, _daring_ her to admit she wasn’t actually teaching us, “Why would we need to learn it outside of class?”

Umbridge seethed angrily, not saying anything.

“Frankly, we just study from textbooks and discuss,” I repeated the lie we had agreed on to say if Umbridge ever questioned us about our group, “We would never practice magic without the supervision of an adult instructor.”

Umbridge smiled slyly, “You are lying.”

“I am not,” I insisted.

“Why would you and your… friends… feel the need to conduct this study group in secret, if it is so by-the-book, as you say?” Umbridge had a look on her face that clearly indicated that she thought she had won. I shrugged.

“Maybe because there are a lot of us and we don’t want to draw too much attention to ourselves?” I suggested, looking at her with my eyebrows raised, “Also, Elena, Claire, and their friend Astoria Greengrass are in the group. None of them want the Slytherins to know they’re cavorting with Gryffindors.”

Umbridge glared at me angrily, “Well, if _you_ will not tell me the truth, maybe one of your other friends will…”

“They’ll tell you _exactly_ what I told you,” I snapped, “I’m not lying.”

Umbridge opened up her bag and pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill; I swallowed slightly. She handed the objects to me.

“I assume you have seen your friends’ hands?”

“Yes,” I answered, sneering at her.

“Would you like a scar of your own, Miss Johnson?” she smiled much too sweetly again.

“Frankly, I’m surprised I didn’t get the same scars they did,” I hissed under my breat, “I don’t know why I got the imprisonment treatment.”

Umbridge’s eyes flashed with fury, “You are too far gone for scars,” she ripped the parchment and quill away from me, “You are an _animal_ , Miss Johnson. A wild, savage animal, which requires the same punishments as required by them. Frankly, you are so rabid, I believe you need to be _put down_.”

I looked at her steadily, though my fingers were twitching; I carefully pictured Neville in my mind, focusing on him heavily, hoping to god that it would work before, frankly, I proved the bitch right.

“But, sadly, that happy power is not up to me,” Umbridge paused, “And, thus, I must continue to punish you, until you learn that your behavior is unacceptable.”

“Go right ahead,” I hissed softly, “You can’t break me.” The truth of the words were amazing; even after everything that had happened last June, I hadn’t been broken for long. I was always capable of being fixed. I knew this, now.

“I’m beginning to realize that your _friends_ also fit this category,” Umbridge continued, “Seeing as punishing them like intelligent, civilized _humans_ has not done anything to teach them the lessons they so desperately need to learn.”

“They all know what you did to them. You couldn’t hurt them with that,” I muttered angrily.

“Well, perhaps not,” Umbridge smiled again, “But perhaps instead, I should reinforce with a little _more_ pain… perhaps some Ministry-approved disciplinary curses?”

I glared at her furiously, feeling my fists clench up again.

“I wonder who will break the easiest… let me know the truth about you and your little friends… Perhaps _Mr._ Longbottom,” Umbridge’s smile was so evil I wanted to burn it from her face.

“You do that,” I muttered darkly, glaring up at her as she stood over me, “You do that, and you will regreat it forever.”

Umbridge smiled even wider, “Are you _threatening_ a Ministry official?”

“I am telling you, that if you harm a hair on Neville’s head, you will regret it for the rest of your miserable little life,” I stated simply, “I will not attack you. But your life will never be easy again. I will defend him with my life, if I have to.”

Umbridge and I stared at each other for a long time. I continued clenching my fists, ready to fight her to get out of the room if I could.

“It is quite amusing, Miss Johnson,” she said after a long moment.

“What?” I snapped.

“ _Mr._ Longbottom said quite the same thing when I described doling out such punishments to you, in one of his detentions,” Umbridge smiled widely, “Quite curious, isn’t it? Though he is not the one I want to break the most. That boy does not need as much disciplining as _you_.”

I swallowed heavily, still glaring at her, remaining completely silent.

 “But hearing _you_ say it about _him_ … it means I now have leverage over you,” Umbridge smiled wickedly, “Oh, I do believe that I can get to you yet, Miss Johnson. You will not remain wild for long.”

I hissed very angrily under my breath, gripping the arms of the chair so tightly I could feel splinters that I created digging into my hands.

“You may go,” she dismissed, still smiling in a terrifying way. I got up and stalked out of her room, walking steadily down into the corridor and as far away as I could, before sprinting out towards the Quidditch field.

The match was still on, though I didn’t know how much time there would be left. I didn’t try to get up into the stands; instead, I rested underneath one and panted from the force of my running, shaking madly with fear. I was starving, too, which didn’t help anything. I looked around the stands, wildly hoping to see McGonagall as the players played above my head; I could see on the other end of the grounds Umbridge walking towards the pitch, looking as haughty and self-satisfied as ever. I swallowed heavily and glared at her, so tempted to just shift and rip her head off that I actually had to picture Neville _and_ count to ten to get myself to calm the fuck down.

The game was over very quickly after I arrived; I could see Harry catch the snitch, and I clapped quietly that we won. I then stomped out, taking advantage of the chaos, to the forest. I shifted very soon after doing so and flew as fast as I could, not even particularly wanting to talk to Herin – I just wanted to fucking _fly_.

I flew as fast as I could up to the mountains, soaring around them expertly – I was getting so much better at it every time. I climbed higher and higher until I reached the top of one and sat on it, staring down at the forest and castle and ground below. I couldn’t see much detail from here, but that was comforting. From up here, everyone was insignificant; everyone – including that toad – was unimportant. The only reason anyone _was_ important, in fact, was because of how I felt about them. I watched as the giant mass of people that was the student body made their way towards the castle; once they were far enough away, I opened my maw and roared at the absolute top of my lungs. The sound echoed against the mountain and throughout the valley; I knew some must have heard it, so I quickly went behind the mountain, to the side facing the highlands.

I looked out over them; it would be so easy to escape. My desire to _run_ that had been a major part of my life since Voldemort had seriously looked like he was coming back, was back. But I remembered Harry, and Hermione, and Neville, and Elena, and Ginny, and Sam, and Ron and Luna and Fred and Ernie and Dean and Nadia and Terry and everyone in the D.A., even George, Zacharias, and Marietta to some extent. I remembered Professor McGonagall, and Shae, and my parents, and Sirius and Lupin and Tonks, and the whole Order of the Phoenix. I sighed heavily, crouching on a ledge on the mountain. I had no ability to leave anymore. My sense of self-preservation was still there, of course – gaining that had _not_ been a bad part of my breakdown – but my loyalty had also been recovered. My moral compass was back. My mental state was healthy enough that I could not prioritize my own sense of safety over my need to help, anymore. So I flew around the mountain and dove back into the trees, gliding towards the grounds and then shifting, before walking out into the green.

No one was around; this was a comforting sight. I walked back towards Hagrid’s Hut, expecting to see it empty and sad as usual – when I was startled. The lights were on inside; smoke was coming out of the chimney.

The sight was enough to make me forget how horrible Umbridge was, and how scared I had been, however briefly, that she would kill me. I ran up to the door and knocked eagerly, bouncing up and down on my toes. Fang immediately started barking inside.

“It’s me, Hagrid, it’s me!” I shouted.

“Shoulda known!” he called back, clearly pleased. I heard him move around as he said, “Bin home three seconds… Out o’ the way, Fang… _Out o’ the way,_ yeh dozy dog…”

The door creaked open and Hagrid looked out and beamed at me, but I was much too shocked – his hair was matted with blood, and his left eye was a puffy slit amid a mass of purple and black bruises. There were many cuts on his face and hands, some still bleeding, and he was moving very slowly, as though his ribs were broken. He clearly had only just gotten home; his black traveling cloak was over the back of a chair and a sack large enough to carry many children leaned agians the wall of the door.

“Well, get in!” Hagrid beamed.

“I’m – I’m sorry, Hagrid, but – _oh my God_ , what happened?” I demanded, quickly getting inside and staring at him in horror.

“It’s nuthin’, it’s nuthin’!” Hagrid insisted, “More ter the point, really, what’s with _yer_ getup?”

I was dressed punk again; it _was_ a Saturday, after all, and I had thought I’d spend it watching Quidditch.

“I’ve been through hell and back in your absence, but apparently you did too!” I demanded, “What happened?”

Hagrid put on the kettle on the stove and I sat comfortably in one of the familiar chairs, staring at him earnestly.

“ _Nuthin_ , Maggie,” Hagrid insisted, “Want a cuppa?”

“Hagrid, for the love of every dragon that has ever existed –“

“I’m tellin’ yeh, I’m fine,” Hagrid beamed at me, but he was wincing while he did it, “Blimey, it’s good ter see you again – but yer summer was bad, yeh said?”

“Well, yes, but you’ve been attacked, that’s much more urgent!” I gasped.

“Fer the last time, it’s _nuthin’!_ ” Hagrid shook his head furiously.

“Would you say it was nothing if my face looked like it had been beaten to a pulp?” I demanded, “You need to go and see Madam Pomphrey, Hagrid, _immediately_ , you could have an infection.”

“I’m dealin’ with it, all righ’?” Hagrid shot back. He went and grabbed a large green steak that was clearly dragon hide – the sight made me feel sick, given what I was now – and put it on the left side of his face. He moaned happily.

“Tha’s better. It helps with the stingin’, yeh know.”

“So could you please tell me what’s happened to you?” I sighed.

“Can’, Maggie. Top secret. More’n me job’s worth ter tell yeh that.”

I rolled my eyes, “I know more than you think I know.”

Hagrid smirked, “Wha’ else is new?”

I grinned happily at him in response, sighing, “How’s this. I’ll tell you the shite that happened to _me_ , and you can tell me the shite that happened to _you_.”

“I’m not promisin’ nothin’,” Hagrid paused, “But try me.”

“Well, see,” I swallowed heavily; it was still hard to talk about it all, “I got PTSD from all the shite that happened to me at the end of the year.”

Hagrid frowned, “Wha’s that?”

“It’s a mental illness. Stands for post-traumatic stress disorder,” I frowned, “I got nightmares every night, couldn’t sleep through the night even; I’d get flashbacks and think I was in those situations again… I’d constantly be reminded of the horrible things by any little reminder… I was constantly nervous and paranoid, and I refused to talk to anyone at all about what I was going through.”

Hagrid frowned sadly at me. I took that as a cue to continue.

“I went down a bad path to try and cope. I got addicted to this pretty bad drug, called heroin, and started partying all the time. When we came back to the UK – I had been in Chicago for half the summer – I was so afraid of being home, I ran away. I lived on the streets of London for about a week,” I shrugged sadly.

Hagrid’s mouth dropped open in shock, “Merlin, Maggie –“

“Neville found me, though, and he helped me actually cope with it, rather than just drug myself into being okay,” I shrugged, “I am not completely fine, but I’m doing better.”

Hagrid smiled slightly, “Good on ‘im, then.”

“Yeah,” I blushed furiously, “Still, I liked the clothing I wore at the time – gives me that ‘don’t mess with her’ edge I need to accurately portray how much I will wreck your shite if you attack me, an important message to give these days.”

Hagrid laughed loudly, making me grin. I had missed him.

“Now,” I sipped my tea and grinned slyly at him, “Did the giants beat you up, then?”

Hagrid dropped the dragon steak and it slid down to his lap with a really unfortunate series of squelches.

“Giants?” Hagrid gasped, catching the steak, “Who said anythin’ abou’ giants? Who yeh bin talkin’ to? Who’s told yeh what I’ve – who’s said I’ve bin – eh?”

“Hermione guessed,” I shrugged.

“O’ course she did,” Hagrid muttered irritably.

“I mean, it was kind of obvious, wasn’t it?” I looked at him, smirking. Hagrid glared at me for a minute before snorting.

“Never known kids like yeh and yer friends fer knowin’ more’n yeh oughta,” he muttered, “An’ I’m not complimentin’ yeh, neither. Nosy, some’d clal it. Interferin’.”

He was clearly smiling under his beard.

“So, is that true, then?” I grinned.

Hagrid sighed, “Yeah, all righ’, I was lookin’ fer ‘em.”

“Did you find them?” I asked softly.

“Well, they’re not that difficult ter find, ter be honest,” Hagrid answered, “Pretty big, see.”

“Where are they?” I asked.

“Mountains,” Hagrid answered.

“So why don’t Muggles find them too?”

“They do,” Hagrid muttered darkly, “O’ny their deaths are always put down ter mountaineerin’ accidents, aren’t they?”

Another knock issued on the door; we both jumped in our seats. He nodded at me and I ran to his cupboard, hiding inside of it in case it were Umbridge on the other side.

“Hagrid, it’s us!” I heard Harry call. I breathed a sigh of relief and came out.

“All righ’, all righ’,” Hagrid chuckled, opening the door. They must have been under the Invisiblity Cloak – taking my absence as the opportunity for the three of them to fit under there. They all hurried inside and took of the cloak, gasping when they saw me.

“Maggie, where have you been?” Neville gasped, running over to me and holding me. I blushed furiously, fairly aware that Hagrid was seeing this somewhat new development for the first time. I looked underneath Neville’s arm – I was much too much shorter than him to see over his shoulder – to see Hagrid look at Hermione questioningly, Hermione silently shook her head, and I rolled my eyes, pulling back from Neville.

“Hagrid, what the bloody hell happened to you?” Harry demanded, returning to the more important issue at hand.

“Oh, righ’ – guess there’s no point in hidin’ it,” Hagrid snorted, going on and explaining to them everything he’d said to me before their arrival as I sat down next to Neville and patted him on the arm. He was still looking at me in worry – but also at Hagrid – so he was constantly turning his head back and forth.

“So then, how did you find them? What happened?” Harry asked eagerly.

“Oh, all righ’,” Hagrid shook his head in bemusement, “Well, we set off righ’ after term ended –“

“You and Madame Maxime, then?” Neville asked.

“Yeah,” Hagrid had a dreamy expression on his face – apparently he and Maxime had mended fences, “Yeah, it was jus’ the pair of us. An’ I’ll tell yeh this, she’s not afraid o’ roughin’ it, Olympe. Yeh know, she’s a fine, well-dressed woman, an’ knowin’ where we was goin’ I wondered ‘ow she’d feel abou’ clamberin’ over boulders an’ sleepin’ in caves an’ tha’, bu’ she never complained once.”

“You know where you were going? You knew where the giants were?” Harry asked in surprise.

“Well, Dumbledore knew, an’ he told us,” Hagrid explained.

“Is the place a secret?” I asked curiously.

“Not really,” Hagrid shook his head, “It’s jus’ tha’ mos’ wizards aren’ bothered where they are, s’long as it’s a good long way away. But where they are’s very difficult ter get ter, fer humans anyway, so we needed Dumbledore’s instructions. Took us abou’ a month ter get there –“

“Shite,” I gasped in surprise.

“I guess you couldn’t travel magically, ‘cause of the Ministry, huh?” Neville asked sadly.

“Yup,” Hagrid nodded mournfully, “I mean, we didn’ have ter act like muggles _all_ the way – we jus’ had ter be careful, ‘cause Olympe an’ me, we stick out a bit, so we’re not hard ter follow. We was pretendin’ we was goin’ on holiday together, so we got inter France an’ we made like we was headin’ fer where Olympe’s school is, ‘cause we knew we was bein’ tailed by someone from the Ministry. We had to go slow, ‘cause I’m not really s’posed ter use magic an’ we knew the Ministry’d be lookin’ fer a reason ter run us in. But we managed ter give the berk tailin’ us the slip round abou’ Dee-John. We chanced a bit o’ magic after that, and it wasn’ a bad journey. Ran inter a couple o’ mad trolls on the Polish border, an’ I had a sligh’ disagreement with a vampire in a pub in Minsk, but apart from tha’, couldn’t’a bin smoother. An’ then we reached the place, an’ we started trekkin’ up through the mountains, lookin’ fer signs of ‘em… We had ter lay off the magic once we got near ‘em. Partly ‘cause they don’ like wizards an’ we didn’ want ter put their backs up too soon, and partly ‘cause Dumbledore had warned us You-Know-Who was bound ter be after the giants an’ all. Said it was odds on he’d sent a messenger off ter them already. Told us ter be very careful of drawin’ attention ter ourselves as we got nearer in case there was Death Eaters around.”

Hagrid paused, taking a swig of tea. We all were staring at him eagerly.

“Found ‘em,” Hagrid continued, “Went over a ridge one righ’ an’ there they was, spread ou’ underneath us. Little fires burnin’ below an’ huge shadows… It was like watchin’ bits o’ the mountain movin’.”

“How big are they?” Neville asked.

“’Bout twenty feet,” Hagrid shrugged, “Some o’ the bigger ones mighta bin twenty-five.”

“And how many were there?” Harry asked eagerly.

“I reckon abou’ seventy or eighty,” Hagrid explained.

“Is that all?” Hermione asked, frowning.

“Yep,” Hagrid sighed, “Eighty left, an’ there were loads onc, musta bin a hundred diff’ren’ tribes from all over the world. But they’ve been dyin’ out fer ages. Wizards killed a few, o’ course, but mostly they killed each other, an’ now they’re dyin’ out faster than ever –“

“Okay hold up,” I frowned, “If they’re killing each other off, how the hell did they even come to be in the first place? This has to be a new behavior – there has to be a change that lead to them behaving in this way.”

“They’re not made ter live bunched up together like tha’,” Hagrid explained, “Wizard forced ‘em to go an’ live a good long way from us, limited their ranges. Had no choice but ter stick together fer their own protection. They’re not made ter live bunched up together like tha’.”

“So…you saw them… and then what?” Harry asked.

“Well, we waited till mornin’, didn’ want ter go sneakin’ up on ‘em in the dark, fer our own safety. ‘Bout three in the mornin’ they fell asleep jus’ where they was sittin’. We didn’ dare sleep. Fer one thin’, we wanted ter make sure none of ‘em woke up an’ came up where we were, an’ fer another, the snorin’ was unbelievable. Caused an avalanche near mornin’. Once it was light, we wen’ down ter see ‘em,” Hagrid continued.

“Wait, you just… just _walked into_ a giant camp?” Neville asked in disbelief.

“Well, Dumbledore’d told us how ter do it. Give the Gurg gifts, show some respect, yeh know,” Hagrid shrugged.

“Erm, the what?” Harry asked, frowning.

“Oh, the Gurg – the chief.”

“How can you even tell which one is the chief?” Neville questioned.

“He was the biggest, the ugliest, an’ the laziest. Sittin’ down there waitin’ ter be brought food by the others. Dead goats an’ such like. Name o’ Karkus. I’d put him at twenty-two, twenty-three feet, an’ the weight of a couple o’ bull elephants. Skin like rhino hide an’ all. We walked down ter him, where he was lyin’ in the valley. They was in this dip between four pretty high mountains, see, beside a mountain lake, an’ Karkus was lyin’ by the lake roarin’ at the others ter feed him an’ his wife. Olympe an’ I went down the mountainside, and well, it was def’nitely on some of their minds ter try an’ kill us. But we did what Dumbledore told us ter do, which was ter hold our gift up high an’ keep our eyes on the Gurg an’ ignore the others. So tha’s wha’ we did. An’ the rest of ‘em went quiet an’ watchd us pass an’ we got right up ter Karkus’s feet an’ we bowed an’ put our present down in front o’ him.”

“What did you give him?” Hermione asked in a hushed whisper.

“We took him magic. Giants like magic, jus’ don’t like us usin’ it against ‘em. Anyway, tha’ firs’ day we gave him a branch o’ Gubraithian fire. Everlastin’ fire,” Hagrid explained, “Dumbledore’d bewitched this branch to burn everymore, which isn’ somethin’ any wizard could do, an’ so I lies it down in the snow by Karkus’s feet and says, ‘A gift to the Gurg of the giants from Albus Dumbledore, who sends his respectful greetings.’”

“Did Karkus say anything?” I asked breathlessly.

“No, didn’ speak English,” Hagrid explained.

“Seriously?” Neville frowned.

“Didn’ matter,” Hagrid shrugged, “Dumbledore had warned us tha’ migh’ happen. Karkus knew enough to yell fer a couple o’ giants who knew our lingo an’ they translated fer us.”

“Did he like the present?” Hermione asked.

“Oh yeah, it went down a storm once they understood what it was. Very pleased. So then I said, ‘Albus Dumbledore asks the Gurg to speak with his messenger when he returns tomorrow with another gift.’”

“Why couldn’t you speak to them that day?” Hermione asked.

“Dumbledore wanted us ter take it very slow,” Hagrid explained, “Let ‘em see we kept our promises. _We’ll come back tomorrow with another present_ , an’ then we do come back with another present – gives a good impression, see? An’ gives them time ter test out the firs’ present an’ find out it’s a good one, an’ get ‘em eager fer more. In any case, giants like Karkus – overload ‘em with information an’ they’ll kill yeh jus’ to simplify things. So we bowed outta the way an’ went off an’ found ourselves a nice little cave ter spend that night in, an’ the followin’ mornin’ we went back an’ this time we found Karkus sittin’ up waitin’ fer us lookin’ all eager.”

“Did you talk to him then?”

“Oh yeah. Firs’ we presented him with a nice battle helmet – goblin-made an’ indestructible, yeh know – an’ then we sat down an’ we talked.”

“What did he say?”

“Not much. Listen’ed mostly. But there were good signs. He’d heard o’ Dumbledore, heard he’d argued against the killin’ of the last giants in Britain. Karkus semed ter be quite int’rested in what Dumbledore had ter say. An’ a few o’ the others, ‘specially the ones who had some English, they gathered round an’ listened too. We were hopeful when we left that day. Promised ter come back next day with another present. But that night it all wen’ wrong…” Hagrid sighed.

“Oh no,” Hermione murmured.

“Well, like I say, they’re not meant ter live together, giants,” Hagrid frowned, “Not in big groups like that. They can’ help themselves, they half kill each other every few weeks. The men fight each other an’ the women fight each other, the remnants of the old tribes fight each other, an’ that’s even without squabbles over food an’ the best fires an’ sleepin’ spots. Yeh’d think, seein’ as how their whole race is abou’ finished, they’d lay off each other, but . . . That night a fight broke out, we saw it from the mouth of our cave, lookin’ down on the valley. Went on fer hours, yeh wouldn’ believe the noise. An’ when the sun came up the snow was scarlet an’ his head was lyin’ at the bottom o’ the lake.”

“Whose head?” I whispered in shock.

“Karkus’s,” Hagrid sighed, “There was a new Gurg, Golgomath. Well, we hadn’t bargained on a new Gurg two days after we’d made friendly contact with the firs’ one, an’ we had a funny feelin’ Golgomath wouldn’ be so keen ter listen ter us, but we had ter try.”

“You spoke to him? Even though he’d ripped off another giant’s head?” Neville gasped.

“’Course we did,” Hagrid responded angrily, “We hadn’ gone all that way ter give up after two days! We wen’ down with the next present we’d meant ter give ter Karkus. I knew it was no go before I’d opened me mouth. He was sitting there wearin’ Karkus’s helmet, leerin’ at us as we got nearer. He’s massive, one o’ the biggest ones there. Black hair an’ matchin’ teeth an’ a necklace o’ bones. Human-lookin’ bones, some of ’em. Well, I gave it a go — held out a great roll o’ dragon skin — an’ said ‘A gift fer the Gurg of the giants —’ Nex’ thing I knew, I was hangin’ upside down in the air by me feet, two of his mates had grabbed me.”

Hermione gasped in fear.

“How did you get out of _that_?” Harry asked worriedly.

“Wouldn’ta done if Olympe hadn’ bin there,” said Hagrid. “She pulled out her wand an’ did some o’ the fastes’ spellwork I’ve ever seen. Ruddy marvelous. Hit the two holdin’ me right in the eyes with Conjunctivitus Curses an’ they dropped me straightaway — bu’ we were in trouble then, ’cause we’d used magic against ’em, an’ that’s what giants hate abou’ wizards. We had ter leg it an’ we knew there was no way we was going ter be able ter march inter camp again.”

“So how come it’s taken you so long to get home if you were only there for three days?” Hermione asked.

“We didn’ leave after three days!” Hagrid roared, “Dumbledore was relyin’ on us!”

“But you’ve just said there was no way you could go back!”

“Not by daylight, we couldn’, no. We jus thad ter rethink a bit. Spet a couple o’ days lyin’ low up in the cave an’ watchin’. An’ wha’ we saw wasn’ good.”

“Did he rip off more heads?” Neville mumbled.

“No. I wish he had.”

“Wha –“

“I mean we soon found out he didn’ object ter all wizards – just us.”

“Death Eaters?” Harry muttered angrily.

“Yep,” Hagrid said darkly, “Couple o’ ‘em were visitin’ him ev’ry day, bringin’ gifts ter the Gurg, an’ he wasn’ dangling them upside down.”

“How’d you know they were Death Eaters?” I asked.

“Because I recognized one o’ ‘em,” Hagrid growled, “Macnair, remember him? Bloke they sent ter kill Buckbeak? Maniac, he is. Likes killin’ as much as Golgomath, no wonder they were gettin’ on so well.”

“So Macnair’s persuaded the giants to join You-Know-Who?” Hermione sighed. I knew I should go talk to Herin about this _immediately_.

“Hold yer hippogriffs, I haven’ finished me story yet! Me an’ Olympe talked it over an’ we agreed, jus’ ‘cause the Gurg looked like favorin’ You-Know-Who didn’ mean all of ‘em would. We had ter try an’ persuade some o’ the others, the ones who hadn’ wanted Golgomath as Gurg.”

“How did you find em?” Neville asked.

“Well, they were the ones bein’ beaten to a pulp, weren’ they?” Hagrid frowned, “The ones with any sense were keepin’ outta Golgomath’s way, hidin’ out in caves roun’ the gully jus’ like we were. So we decided we’d go pokin’ round the caves by night an’ see if we couldn’ persuade a few o’ them.”

“You wen poking around dark caves looking for giants?” I laughed.

“Well, it wasn’ the giants who worried us most. We were more concerned abou’ the Death Eaters. Dumbledore had told us before we wen’ not ter tangle with ‘em if we could avoid it, an’ the trouble was they knew we was around – ‘spect Golgomath told him abou’ us. At night when the giants were sleepin’ an’ we wanted ter be creepin’ inter the caves, Macnair an’ the other one were sneakin’ round the mountains lookin’ fer us. I was hard put to stop Olympe jumpin’ out at them. She was rarin’ ter attack ‘em… She’s somethin’ when she’s roused, Olympe… Fiery, yeh know… ‘spect it’s the French in her…”

Hagrid looked into the distance, positively lovestruck. I had trouble not laughing.

“Did you ever get near any of the other giants?” Neville whispered, clearly in awe.

“What? Oh… oh yeah, we did. Yeah, on the third night after Karkus was killed, we crept outta the cave we’d bin hidin’ in and headed back down inter the gully, keepin’ our eyes skinned fer the Death Eaters. Got inside a few o’ the caves, no go – then, in abou’ the sixth one, we found three giants hidin’. Wasn’ room ter swing a kneazle. They’d been badly hurt, all three o’ them. Golgomath’s lot had beaten ‘em unconscious; they’d woken up an’ crawled inter the nearest shelter they could find. Anyway, one o’ them had a bit o’ English an’ ‘e translated fer the others, an’ what we had ter say didn’ seem ter go down too badly. So we kep’ goin’ back, visitin’ the wounded… I reckon we had abou’ six o’ seven o’ them convinced at one poin’.”

“That’s not bad!” I shouted eagerly.

“What do you mean… at one point?” Hermione whispered.

Hagrid looked at us sadly, “Golgomath’s lot raided the caves. The ones tha’ survived didn’t wan’ no more ter do with us after that.”

“So, no giants?” Harry sighed.

“Nope,” Hagrid shook his head sadly, “But we did wha’ we meant ter do, we gave ‘em Dumbledore’s message an’ some o’ them heard it an’ I ‘spect some o’ them’ll remember it. Jus’ maybe, them that don’ want ter stay around Golgomath’ll move outta the mountains, an’ there’s gotta be a chance they’ll remember Dumbledore’s friendly to ‘em… Could be they’ll come…”

It was snowing gently outside; I sighed, looking into my lap.

“Hagrid?” Hermione asked quietly.

“Mmm?”

“Did you… was there any sign of… did you hear anything about your… your… mother while you were there?”

Hagrid sighed deeply, ‘Dead. Died years ago. They told me.”

“I’m… I’m really sorry,” Hermione mumbled.

“No need,” Hagrid shrugged, “Can’ remember her much. Wasn’ a great mother.”

There was a long pause.

“But… erm… you haven’t really said why you’re like this… or why you’re back so late…” I piped up.

“Who attacked you?” Neville frowned.

“I haven’ bin attacked!” Hagrid insisted, “I –“

There was a loud knock on the door. We all looked at each other in shcok as Fang yelped loudly. It could only have been _her_. We all wordlessly crouched under the Cloak; it didn’t fit us all anymore, so we all had to squat slightly and press together as tightly as we could to make sure no part of us was visible. Hagrid grabbed the extra mugs and put them all in Fang’s basket. Hagrid went to the door and pulled it open, the four of us trying to not even breathe so as to not make a sound.

Hagrid opened the door and Umbridge walked in, not even waiting for an invitation. She looked around the cabin critically.

“ _So_ ,” she began snappishly, “You’re Hagrid, are you?”

“Er – I don’ want ter be rude,” Hagrid frowned, “But who the ruddy hell are you?”

“My name is Dolores Umbridge.”

Umbridge’s eyes rested exactly on where we were; my heart probably stopped for a beat.

“Dolores Umbridge?” Hagrid asked, “I thought you were one o’ them Ministry – don’ you work with Fudge?”

“I was Senior Undersecretary to the Minister, yes. I am now the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher –“

“Tha’s brave of yeh. There’s not many’d take tha’ job anymore –“

“ – And Hogwarts High Inquisitor,” Umbridge finished.

“Wha’s that?” Hagrid asked.

Umbridge smiled sweetly again, “Preciesly what I was going to ask abou the set of three footprints leading up to your door.”

Hermione’s face next to mine drained of all color.

“Well, I on’y jus’ got back. Maybe someone came ter call earlier an’ I missed ‘em.”

“There are no footstepps leading _away_ form your cabin door.”

“Well I… I don’ know why that’d be…” Hagrid frowned heavily. Umbridge looked around the entire cabin carefully, looking underneath the bed, peering into the cupboards. She narrowly avoided my knees and I pulled them up closer to my body, squishing my boobs in the process.

“What has happened to you?” she demanded, wheeling around to face Hagrid, “How did you sustain those injuries?”

“Oh… I… had a bit of an accident.”

“What sort of accident?”

“I tripped.”

“You tripped,” Umbridge stated cooly.

“Yeah, tha’s right. Friend o’ mine breeds Abraxan horses, I dunno if you’ve ever seen ‘em, big beasts, winged, yeh know, I’ve had a bit of a rid on one o’ them an’ it was –“

“Where have you ben?” Umbridge interrupted.

“Where’ve I -?”

“Been, yes,” Umbridge snapped, “Term started more than two months ago. Another teacher has had to cover your classes. None of your colleagues has been able to give me any information as to your whereabouts. You left no address. Where have you been?”

“I’ve been away for me health,” Hagrid insisted.

“For your health,” Umbridge responded skeptically, “I see.”

“Yeah… bit o’ – o’ fresh air, yeh know –“

“Yes, as gamekeeper fresh air must be so difficult to come by,” Umbridge smiled sweetly.

“Well – change o’ scene, yeh know –“

“Mountain scenery?” Umbridge asked sweetly.

I swallowed heavily, hoping that she couldn’t hear it.

“Mountains?” Hagrid repeated, “Nope, South of France fer me. Bit o’ sun an’… an’ sea.”

“Really? You don’t have much of a tan.”

“Yeah, well, sensitive skin…” Hagrid smiled weakly.

“I shall, of course, be informing the Minister of your late return,” Umbridge continued brusquely.

“Righ’,” Hagrid nodded.

“You ought to know too that as High Inquisitor it is my unfortunate but necessary duty to inspect my fellow teachers. So I daresay we shall meet again soon enough.”

Umbridge began walking towards the door.

“You’re inspectin’ us?” Hagrid asked in shock.

“Oh yes,” Umbridge murmured, “The Ministry is determined to weed out unsatisfactory teachers, Hagrid. Good night.”

We waited a long minute until we came out from under the cloak.

“Blimey,” Hagrid murmured, “Inspectin’ people, is she?”

“Yes,” I answered immediately, “Which is why you _must do normal lessons, Hagrid._ I’m sorry, but you don’t have a fucking choice!”

My use of a swear in front of an adult was a new one. Hermione looked at me in shock and Hagrid looked confused.

“Oh, don’ you worry abou’ that –“

“I will too!” I stamped my foot, “Hagrid, for fuck’s sake, she’s already waiting to sack Trelawny, the woman is a bigot, she’s prejudiced against people who aren’t fully human – _you_ – she’s been out for you since she got here and she’s been looking for excuses to sack you! You are going to do normal things. How to look after porlocks, how to tell the difference between knarls and hedghehogs, stuff like that! I don’t care that it’s boring, for the first few lessons, when she’s fucking _watching you_ , that is _what you do_!” I shouted.

“But Maggie, I got a whole herd of Thestrals – the only domesticated herd in Britain –“

“What the mother fuck is a thestral?” I demanded angrily.

“It’s a type of horse,” Hermione responded calmly, “They’re black, and they have wings, and they sort of look like lizards. You can only see them, however, if you’ve seen someone die.”

Harry’s mouth fell open. I whirled on her in amazement.

“You’re kidding.”

“No –“

“Harry – that’s what we saw!” I gasped. Harry nodded rapidly.

“What?” Neville asked in confusion.

“We saw the thestrals – they pull the Hogwarts carriages, don’t they, Hagrid?” I asked him hurriedly.

“Oh, yes – sorry ‘bout tha’ – I meant ter tell yeh before yeh saw, bu’ then I had my mission – an’ you wouldn’ have seen back in June, the deaths were too fresh in yer minds then,” Hagrid responded sheepishly.

“Look, Hagrid, I don’t – that would be really cool – I am _not_ the person to persuade you out of this –“ I groaned.

“Hagrid, thestrals are fascinating and all, but you can’t do that,” Hermione responded firmly, “We do _not_ want you to get fired. I’m sorry, but you have to do porlocks. You have to have a safe, boring, dull lesson, and you have to _keep_ having them, until the woman is done inspecting you. Do you understand?”

Hagrid laughed and shook his head, “’Mione –“

“No!” she screeched, “Hagrid, when would we ever steer you wrong?”

Hagrid frowned. Her words had a ringing of truth to them that he couldn’t deny.

“Just do this for now, Hagrid. Just do the safe lessons for now and when she’s inspected you and said you passed, then you can do the thestrals, alright?” Neville begged.

“All… alrigh’,” Hagrid sighed, “She does seem righ’ dodgy.”

“Exaclty,” Harry nodded, “And we don’t want to lose you as a teacher, Hagrid. Seriously.”

Hagrid looked at all of us again as we all nodded fiercely, me the most of all. It was my eager agreement – despite loving interesting magical creatures same as he did – that did it.

“Fine. Porlocks it is,” Hagrid agreed, “Now _you_ lot be’er get back ter the castle! It’s late! An’ wipe yer footprints ou’ behind yeh!”

We all left, going back up to the castle. Neville was asking me in a rush what had happened to me today. I was so overwhelmed, I could only explain in the simplest of sentences.

I had a bad feeling about this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you ALL for the WONDERFUL comments! Please keep them coming, I love reading them and responding to them! THE MORE THE MERRIER! 
> 
> Also, yes, I'm shameless, and I named the Velociraptor after the raptor from Jurassic World. I HAVE NO SHAME. I CARE NOT FOR THE CONCERNS OF CHEESINESS.


	65. Chapter Sixty - Four: November 3 - December 17, 1995, Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "We don't sleep very much 
> 
> These triggers ache for the touch 
> 
> Where's the strength we relied on? 
> 
> Fear alone, like a crutch 
> 
> Maybe that's what keeps us up 
> 
> All night with the light on 
> 
> All these screams emulate 
> 
> Lives that no longer take place 
> 
> Can this be what we've become? 
> 
> Paper thin, overweight 
> 
> Pills to arouse or sedate 
> 
> Still we don't know what we want 
> 
> We can't let go 
> 
> Can't you see? 
> 
> To lose control 
> 
> Is to be 
> 
> Finally free! 
> 
> First a spark 
> 
> Then a flame 
> 
> Now a fire 
> 
> We explode 
> 
> Into the darkest of nights 
> 
> Disconnect 
> 
> Cut the cord 
> 
> Lines are dead 
> 
> Now they'll know 
> 
> With everything comes a price 
> 
> And each day we are torn 
> 
> Between the right and the wrong 
> 
> Between life and convenience 
> 
> Why do we sleep? Why complain? 
> 
> There's always channels to change 
> 
> It's like elective amnesia 
> 
> As we grow older in this place 
> 
> Let's just start over 
> 
> Let's erase 
> 
> What they'v made! 
> 
> First a spark 
> 
> Then a flame 
> 
> Now a fire 
> 
> We explode." 
> 
> ~ Rise Against, "Elective Amnesia".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Sorry for the super long chapter song... I couldn't pick which lyrics I liked more...)

Chapter 64: November 3 – December 17, 1995, Hogwarts

Luckily, the four of us _had_ managed to get through to Hagrid. That Tuesday on our first Magical Creatures lesson, we all hustled through the snow to a group of small, weirdly horse like creatures sitting in the snow. We all gathered around the creatures, which were two feet high, covered in rough, shaggy hair, with large noses, small arms ending in four stubby fingers, and walking on two cloven hooves. The group immediately ran off and hid in the bushes as we Gryffindors approached, and Hagrid beamed at all of us.

“Alrigh’, today we’ll be coverin’ porlocks – can’ anyone -?” Hagrid asked looking around. Hermione eagerly raised her hand.

“Yeh, Hermione,” Hagrid beamed through his scraggly beard.

“Porlocks are horse guardians, native to England and Southern Ireland,” Hermione answered quickly.

“Good girl, five poin’s to Gryffindor,” Hagrid nodded, “Now, who can tell me –“

“ _Hem, hem_.”

The voice of doom sent chills up and down my spine; I slowly turned around to see Umbridge walking towards us, standing with us in the snow.

“Hello,” Hagrid waved cheerfully.

“You received the note I sent to your cabin this morning?” Umbridge said slowly, as though Hagrid were dumb, “Telling you that I would be inspecting your lesson?”

“Oh yeah,” Hagrid beamed, “Welcome. Well, as you can see, we’re doin’ porlocks today –“

“I’m sorry?” Umbridge cupped her hand around her ear and frowned, “What did you say?”

“Porlocks,” Dean Thomas answered immediately before Hagrid could get it out again, “Horse guardians.”

“He said it loud and clear, you should get your ears checked,” I muttered under my breath. Neville, Hermione, Harry, and Ron all near me all burst into giggles. Umbridge’s eyes narrowed at all of us angrily, but she didn’t pursue the issue.

“Now, er, as I was sayin’,” Hagrid looked flustered at the proceedings, “Who can tell me why they’ve all gon’ an’ hid in the bushes?”

Hermione raised her hand again, Hagrid nodded at her.

“Porlocks are afraid of humans,” she answered calmly, “And hide at their approach.”

“Good job, Hermione!” Hagrid praised, “Now, there _is_ a way to gain the trust o’ a porlock. See, yeh’ve got ter show ‘em yeh don’ mean them any harm – or tha’ you don’ mean their horses any harm – by presentin’ em gifts of hay. After tha’, bes’ ter not try and approach them more than yeh have ter – just give ‘em hay whenever they need feedin’, and make sure ter be calm an’ low-key when yer around ‘em.”

Umbridge watched him angrily, clearly upset that he was not mucking up. Her eyes were narrowed dangerously as she shouted, again, like he was stupid, “Please continue teaching as usual. I am going to walk,” she mimed walking, “Among the students,” she pointed at the other members of the class, “And ask them questions,” she pointed to her mouth to indicate talking.

I was so thankful the Slytherins had all dropped the class. All of the Gryffindors looked annoyed with her treatment of Hagrid – even Siobhan, Parvati, and Lavender, who all preferred Grubbly-Plank’s _teaching_ , still _liked_ Hagrid.

“Do you find,” Umbridge asked Seamus, “That you are able to understand Professor Hagrid when he talks?”

Seamus stared at Umbridge fiercely, looking furious, “Of course. He’s very good at explainin’ the lessons.”

Umbridge was not pleased with the answer. Hagrid, flushing madly with embarrassment, turned back to the porlocks.

“So, we’ve got here some hay,” he explained, “I wan’ yeh all to try and urge the porlocks ou’ inter the open. Remember, be quiet, be un-threatenin’.”

I walked up and grabbed some hay, approaching one of the bushes as everyone else did the same. Umbridge, clearly hoping for _someone_ to trash-talk Hagrid, approached Lavender, who had looked the most disappointed that Hagrid was back the day before.

“Do you find that you are ever scared in this class?” she asked loudly. I held my breath, scrunching up my face tightly.

“Not most of the time,” Lavender answered honestly, “And most of the time, even if something is scary, it’s also really interesting, like the Hippogriffs.”

Umbridge harrumphed angrily, scribbling furiously on her clipboard. I had managed to lure out a porlock, who was munching happily on the hay. I quickly stepped back from it, hoping to not scare it away.

“Good job, Maggie!” Hagrid praised. I beamed back at him happily, glad I could demonstrate that his teaching was going well.

Umbridge went around and asked each of the students questions, trying to trick us into saying bad things about Hagrid, but none of us caved. Finally, at the end of the lesson, she turned to Hagrid, having clear trouble masking her hatred.

“Well Hagrid,” she spoke again like he was idiotic, “I think I’ve got enough to be getting along with… You will receive,” she mimed taking something from the air in front of her, “The results of your inspection,” she pointed at the clipboard, “In ten day’s time.” She held up her ten, stubby, stupid-looking fingers. She then smiled widely and wandered away eagerly.

I looked over at Seamus and Lavender and Siobhan, who I hadn’t talked to since the year had started.

“Thank you,” I whispered honestly, shuffling my feet awkwardly.

Siobhan shrugged, “I didn’t lie or anything.”

“I might not like Hagrid’s lessons, but I don’t want him to be _fired_ ,” Lavender shook her head, “That woman has it out for him.”

“Yeah,” Seamus agreed, “It was foul.”

“Well, thanks, all the same,” I muttered. The three of them walked away as the rest of us all looked at each other nervously.

“Hagrid, just keep doing lessons like that, okay?” I said after a moment, “That went well.”

He nodded, but looked very angry – probably with Umbridge’s treatment of him. He went and rounded up all the porlocks as the rest of us wandered up into the school.

A few days later, at the D.A. meeting, Harry looked around at everyone. We had been learning _Stupefy_ , and plenty of people were currently getting up, stunned and disoriented from practice. Harry looked troubled.

“What is it, Harry?” Dean Thomas asked curiously.

He sighed, “I don’t know what to do about Umbridge.”

“Aren’t we already doing it?” Nadia frowned, getting up and rubbing her head, readjusting her hijab.

“Yes, but she’s getting out of hand,” Harry frowned, “She basically tried to sabotage Hagrid in her inspection the other day.”

“We all had to be on our guard,” Parvati nodded, walking up to stand next to him, “Made sure we didn’t slip up and say something that would get him into trouble.”

“And we’ve had to basically rewrite his lesson plan,” I sighed, “Make sure he’s doing things that he couldn’t _possibly_ get into trouble for.”

“That’s not necessarily a bad thing,” Parvati frowned.

“Well, no, but he wasn’t trying to do the Skrewts again or anything, he wanted to show us Thestrals,” I shrugged.

Parvati gasped in shock, “Those are terrible omens –“

“Oh shut up with the divination nonsense,” Hermione snapped, “They’re actually really interesting, and aren’t very dangerous at all. They would have been a fine lesson, and if we were at the N.E.W.T. level I wouldn’t even have stopped him…”

“How are we supposed to go after her, though?” Valerie demanded, looking angry, “We’ve stopped the posters since Maggie tipped us off that Umbridge was suspicious, and we’re still meeting even though she made that Educational Decree thing…”

The day previously, Umbridge had pushed through Educational Decree number twenty-four, which stated, “ _All Student Organisations, Societies, Teams, Groups, and Clubs are henceforth disbanded. An Organisation, Society, Team, Group, or Club is hereby defined as a regular meeting of three or more students. Permission to re-form may be sought from the High Inquisitor (Professor Umbridge). No Student Organisation, Society, Team, Group, or Club may exist without the knowledge and approval of the High Inquisitor. Any student found to have formed, or to belong to, an Organisation, Society, Team, Group, or Club that has not been approved by the High Inquisitor will be expelled.”_

Of course, we had figured that something like this had happened, and carried on meeting anyway.

“Well, it was only a matter of time,” Hermione responded swiftly, “We just have to be more discreet in the corridors.”

“Still, we don’t have our Quidditch teams back yet!” Alicia stated angrily. The other players in the room nodded in agreement.

“She knows that all the captains for the not-Slytherin teams are in the D.A.,” Cedric grimaced angrily, “Alicia, Cho and I have been fighting for _ages_ …”

“It’s only been a day,” Hermione scoffed.

“Slytherin already has their team back!” Alicia insisted, “There won’t be a _league_ if we don’t get ours back!”

“They have to eventually,” Neville shook his head mournfully, “There won’t be a _league_.”

“Wouldn’t put it past the Umbitch,” Elena muttered angrily.

“Well, she’s still doing terrible things,” Harry sighed, “And I don’t know how to actually get to her.”

“You four can’t do a damn thing,” Sam snapped, “We know that now. Frankly, I think you should go on the run.”

I looked up in surprise, looking over at Sam.

“What?”

“I mean it,” Sam paused, “She’s targeting you. You should all run away, and come back when she’s gone. You could make it, you’re survivors.”

We looked at each other pensively for a moment before shaking our heads.

“We can’t do that. We can’t abandon you all,” Hermione insisted.

“Fine, but I’m not letting her attack you lot anymore,” Sam muttered angrily.

“Sam, don’t do anything stupid –“ I groaned.

“I won’t either,” Ginny nodded fiercely, standing up, “She’s hurt you lot too much.”

“Hear, hear,” Ron nodded.

“You said she called you an animal, Maggie,” Neville frowned, “She really does have it in for you.”

“Well, then, I’ll survive,” I muttered irritably, kicking a pillow, “I always do.”

He looked at me desperately, and I looked back at him for what was probably a little bit too long, given that everyone was staring at us. Somebody coughed and I flushed madly, looking away desperately and intensely at the wall.

“Well, I vote the rest of us do things,” Padma stated calmly, “Someone has to.”

“We can’t do the pamphlets again, Umbridge will have their heads –“

“No, not anonymously,” Padma shook her head, “I mean with her knowing. We rebel, out loud, in groups.”

Some people immediately began to protest; others cheered.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Padma amended as people began to calm down, “I just think the more of us doing it, the more unity we’ll show, you know?”

Zacharias Smith and Marietta Edgecomb were the only people who didn’t nod in agreement.

“We could form groups,” Fred offered, “Smaller ones, to plan out things.”

“That way,” George continued, “We can all have different plans – different things we do – so it doesn’t look like we’re all conspiring with one another. But, we’ll have small groups anyway, so it’s not _all_ of us doing something each day.”

“Good idea,” Padma agreed, “Everyone group up – no more than eight people to a group, I think – and discuss plans.”

Harry, Hermione, Neville and I watched in bemusement as people started grouping up and talking about things they would do to piss off Umbridge – we all looked at each other curiously.

“Well, if they want to do this, I say they can,” Harry shrugged.

“I just don’t think we should draw attention to ourselves if we don’t have to,” Hermione hissed angrily.

“We can’t control them, it’s not like we’re parents or anything,” I rolled my eyes. In a corner, Luna, Ron, Sam, George, Fred, Elena, Claire, and Ginny were all talking in hushed voices, looking over at us occasionally before returning to their discussion. Meanwhile, Valerie, Ernie, Hannah, Angelina, Susan, Justin, Cedric and Cho had also formed a group, and Cho was earnestly saying something, her fist pounding into her hand. Katherine, Peter, Nadia, and Colin were all discussing as well, farther away from the rest of us. Dean, Alicia, and Katie were in a heated debate, and Dean was shouting at the top of his lungs. Michael, Anthony, Parvati, and Padma had already started drawing something on a piece of paper. Terry, Chris, and Sally-Anne were also miming something out, and Terry looked to be absolutely determined. Asgar, Vanessa, Lee, Dennis, Rick, Astoria, and Kim were all sitting quietly together, Lee just shaking his had wordlessly. Finally, Joshua, Maria, Nikko, and Ada were all discussing loudly, their debate louder than anyone else’s discussion, clearly getting impassioned about what they were planning. Marietta and Zacharias were watching the proceedings angrily, muttering to each other in disapproval. I looked over at Hermione, Neville, and Harry in bemusement.

“This is bizarre,” Harry shook his head in wonderment.

“Well, there’s no way we’re knocking sense into them,” Hermione muttered angrily.

And so, starting the next day, people started to wreak hell. In our next class with Umbridge, Dean Thomas waited until we had all been sitting and reading for a while. I was drooling on my hand again, almost falling asleep.

“Professor?” he asked after a while. Umbridge looked up, her eyes narrowing.

“Yes, Mr. Thomas?” she asked quietly.

“I was just wondering about this chapter,” he paused, his eyes flashing, “See, it says here that werewolves are some of the most dangerous creatures in our world, and it advocates for all werewolves to be put to death immediately.”

I hissed quietly under my breath; Neville gently held onto my arm to calm me down.

“So, _I_ was wondering, if werewolves are so dangerous and need to be put down,” Dean paused, steeling himself up for what he was going to say, “It’s just _amazing_ that one was able to teach us Defense Against the Dark Arts in such a way that we actually learned something. I mean, you’d think that a dangerous werewolf would just sabotage us, right?”

Umbridge was fuming, standing up angrily, “That half-breed was not teaching a _Ministry approved_ course –“

“No, you’re right,” Dean amended, “Though I wouldn’t go throwing that word around if I were you.”

Umbridge fumed greatly, “And why not?”

“Well, you are _clearly_ a were-toad, and I mean, takes one half breed to know another,” Dean shrugged.

I felt my jaw drop open. Neville grinned in pure excitement. Harry hid his mouth behind his hand to hide his laughter. Hermione shook her head in bemusement. Seamus – who hadn’t talked to Dean since Dean had made his position on Umbridge and Voldemort clear – was watching fearfully in the corner of the room.

Umbridge walked right up to Dean, facing him much too closely, “Twenty points from Gryffindor, Mr. Thomas; and a week’s worth of detentions.”

He shrugged, “Fair enough.”

There was some silence; Umbridge returned to her seat, and we returned to work. Ron then looked up, focusing his gaze steadily on Umbridge.

“You know, I think I’ve figured it out,” he said, not even raising his hand.

“ _Hand_ , Mr. Weasley –“

“Yup, there it is,” Ron nodded firmly, his lips pressed into a thin, somber line, “The were-toad only transforms when provoked by angry students.”

I couldn’t help it; I snorted with laughter. Umbridge looked like she was going to blow a gasket as she stared out at the class. Parvati was grinning from ear to ear; Hermione, Harry, and Neville had the sense to all at least try to appear like they weren’t pleased. Siobhan and Lavender watched in amazement, looking fearful.

“Johnson, detention, tonight, with Thomas. Weasley… a week’s detentions, same time. My office, tonight, at five o’clock,” she finally spluttered out.

 _Does this mean I’m not getting the locked-up treatment?_ I thought curiously. And, indeed, that night it was true – Dean had to write _Werewolves are evil_ , Ron had to write _I will not sass my betters_ , and I got the pleasure of writing _I am a filthy animal_. It was drilled into the back of my hand and I stared at it mournfully as the three of us left her office that evening.

“Worth it,” Dean stated calmly.

“Definitely. Wait until you see the show on tap for tomorrow, Maggie. Just try to contain your enthusiasm this time,” Ron grinned. I rolled my eyes, but still smiled – it was great to see Umbridge taken down a peg by the others.

And indeed, when I walked into the Great Hall the next day, massaging my hand, I was thrown into shock. There was art _everywhere_ – and it was glorious. There were paintings of Umbridge as an actual toad, large ones, hanging from the ceiling like Hogwarts house banners; there were posters lining the walls, and they moved in unison – all of the toads were sticking out their tongues, trying to reach a fly that had a white beard – like Dumbledore – but being unable to reach.

I felt my jaw drop open in shock and I tried my hardest to not look pleased as I sat next to Neville.

“Who’s behind this one, then?” I asked eagerly.

“Sam, Luna, and the Weasley twins,” Neville nodded, his face twisted into one of the most satisfied smiles I had ever seen on it, “Sam and Luna did the drawing, the twins did the permanent sticking charms. Umbridge is in a right state; she figured out who’d done it and gave them all _two_ weeks detentions. She and Filch have been trying to get them down all morning.”

I laughed happily, eagerly stomping my feet in joy.

In fact, our peripheral friends – Fred, Sam, Elena, Claire, Ron, Luna, Ginny, and George – ended up doing most of the rebellion work. Every group did things, of course; Ernie even started giving loud, pompous lectures about Voldemort’s return in the middle of the Great Hall, when everyone could hear; he had been given a lot of detentions for that as well. But still, when there was trouble, the eight were typically at the heart of it, apparently with no regards for their own safety.

It was too cold to keep Blue outside at this point; as November waned, I had to have her with me more of the time. In fact, she grew accustomed to following me around the castle. Initially, I told her not to – I didn’t want to get into trouble. But the raptor insisted anyway.

“Honestly, Maggie, you should probably just let her. I’ll warn the other professors,” McGonagall shook her head in bemusement, “We should work on perfecting the brain part of the spell – practice on some more of the ravens…”

“Maybe if we used a dumber bird?” I suggested sadly. Blue next to be was grooming underneath her feathers on her leg. I loved that she was intelligent; I knew I could trust her to behave.

“Well…” McGonagall frowned, “Let’s make some more like Blue first, make sure we’ve perfected the process.”

I grinned eagerly at that, but McGonagall raised her hands while shaking her head.

“ _After_ the Christmas Holidays. We don’t need Umbridge giving us any more scrutiny than we need.”

I nodded, but still, it was with joy in my heart that Blue and I left her office that evening. Blue’s legs were shorter than you would think for a raptor – she wasn’t very fast, but she was pretty good at the whole kicking thing. It had taken a lot of very firm “no’s” to get her to not try and kick other student’s legs. She rustled her feathers happily as we walked back to my room, rubbing her head against my leg.

“I don’t have any meat for you today, Blue, I’d have to go to the kitchens,” I sighed amusement. Blue chirruped sadly, and I rolled my eyes.

“Oh, all _right_ ,” I groaned, leading Blue down to the kitchens. We went inside, and I greeted Dobby with a smile.

“Hello Maggie Johnson, miss! How has Maggie been?” he squeaked happily, running up to me.

“Good,” I paused, “Well, good-ish. Can we have some raw meat? Blue needs food,” I explained, patting her gently on the head. She was hissing at the elves, who were all backing away in fear.

“She won’t attack unless I tell her. I think I’m her alpha or something, she’s pretty deferential to me, don’t worry about it,” I reassured the elves. Some relaxed, but they all kept their distance. Dobby hurried over to me with the meat, and I could tell by his expression it would be pertinent for us to leave quickly, so as not to make the elves faint.

The first day I brought Blue into Defense, Umbridge nearly had a heart attack; she looked at the raptor in fear, breathing heavily with anger.

“Professor McGonagall was supposed to have told you, Blue likes following me around and I can’t get her to stop,” I explained calmly, pulling out my terrible textbook, “And it’s cold outside, so we can’t just kick her out and let her live in her pen.”

Umbridge seethed, but she didn’t try to argue as she instructed us to read and not to talk. It was an interesting experience, however; Blue literally spent the entire time growling at Umbridge. The low sound filled the entire room.

Umbridge finally stood up furiously, looking at me angrily, “I am going to go and converse with Professor McGonagall. Please, continue reading.” She got up and left, practically stomping as she exited the classroom. Blue immediately stopped growling, chirping softly now and settling into a more comfortable sitting position, like a bird roosting on a nest.

“Maggie, that thing is wonderful,” Harry laughed.

“Guys, meet Blue,” I introduced, “She’s my pet _Velociraptor_.”

“I still can’t believe you bloody _made_ that,” Ron chortled.

“We watched Jurassic Park together!” Neville groaned, “Are you mental, Maggie?”

“I told you about it when it happened!”

“Yes, well, I don’t think the reality settled on me till now!” Neville sighed.

I picked up Blue; she was heavy, but she didn’t protest too much (just some kicking that I managed to avoid). I put Blue on our desk; she covered the whole thing. She looked at me incredulously.

“Blue, meet Neville,” I introduced calmly, pointing at Neville. Blue hissed very softly at him.

“Blue, Neville is _okay_ ,” I insisted. I then patted Neville on the top of the head, a signal McGonagall and I had trained her to understand as indicating the person in question was not a threat – having her keep her raven intelligence decidedly helped in the training behavior thing. Blue stopped hissing and looked at Neville expectantly.

“Nev, you gotta scratch her behind her feather crest,” I insisted, “It means she’ll trust you.”

Neville hesitantly reached out with his hand and put it behind Blue’s head. He then tentatively scratched her; when she didn’t attack, he did so more vigorously, causing her eyes to scrunch up adorably again.

“ _Aww_!” Lavender shouted in the back of the room before she could stop herself. Neville was grinning, presumably despite himself.

“You all can come up and meet her if you’d like, none of you are enemies,” I said lightly. I couldn’t exactly say “except Seamus, Siobhan, and Lavender,” so I didn’t. Everyone came up and was introduced to Blue as a friend, and Blue had the time of her life getting pets from literally every fifth-year Gryffindor. Umbridge came back just as the bell rang, looking furious. I looked at her expectantly.

“You may continue to keep that animal with you,” she hissed angrily, stalking to her desk, “But if you are not careful, I will put a silencing charm on it!”

I shrugged, watching as Blue leapt down from the desk, crouching defensively, hissing angrily at Umbridge. She jumped back in fright; I nodded in satisfaction and lead Blue out of the room, walking with her proudly down the corridors.

That night was the first night Blue spent in our room, and not in a cage. I couldn’t bear to lock her up again, not when she had behaved so well the whole day. Neville was a lot more at ease with her now, walking over to scritchle her when we entered the room after my remedial charms lesson with McGonagall.

“She is pretty cute,” Neville commented lightly, kneeling next to her.

“And deadly, she’s not allowed in the bed, I don’t want her scratching us in our sleep,” I commented lightly as I set out a bed of blankets for her.

“How will we make sure she doesn’t come up?” Neville asked worriedly. I laughed quietly.

“Well, we _can’t_ , really, but we can make it clear that there’s a division of territory,” I paused, “A sort of hierarchy, if you will, where we’re at the top, and she’s at the bottom. Of course, when I make more, she’ll be beta, but until then –“

“More?” Neville asked curiously.

“Oh yes. She needs a family,” I paused, “Plus, we have to make sure that the process actually worked, and wasn’t just a fluke.”

“Fair enough,” Neville acknowledged as I lead Blue to her bed, looking at her intensely.

“Stay,” I ordered, “Sleep.” Blue crouched like a nesting bird again, looking around our room curiously, her eyes flashing every which way. I looked back over at Neville, who shrugged.

“How have you been doing?” I asked calmly. Umbridge had taken to referring to him as a boy whenever possible.

“Alright,” he paused, looking at me, “I’m glad the Holidays are coming up, to be honest.”

“Yeah?” I asked, “Me too. I never thought I’d be excited to not be at Hogwarts.”

“It’s a shame. Umbridge has ruined it,” Neville grumbled angrily.

“She’s a life ruiner,” I agreed, “She ruins people’s lives.”

Neville reached out and pulled me into a hug; I sighed happily and rested in his arms for a long minute.

“Gran and I are going back to Headquarters,” Neville paused, “And I assume you are too –“

“Of course,” I nodded fiercely, “I’ve never really stayed there permanently before.”

“Well, I think the Weasleys might actually _not_ be, so it should be good,” Neville sighed with relief, “I think they got a secret-keeper for the Burrow.”

“Hurray,” I smiled weakly at him. Neville frowned at me for a long minute.

“You seem to be much more at ease with him,” he finally sighed.

“I never see him alone,” I shrugged, “Every interaction is carefully monitored. So I’m getting used to it all now. Trust me, if I kept having to interact with him one on one – I’d be much more terrified.”

Neville nodded, “Makes sense.” He kissed the top of my head and I sighed happily, holding him tighter around his waist.

“Come on, we should sleep,” Neville murmured. I nodded, feeling flushed. I stayed awake, though, until I saw and made sure that Blue was asleep – her tail curled around her body and her head nestled underneath her wing, and once she had been like that for a while, I fell asleep myself.

It was late in November when the Quidditch Teams were finally re-formed; McGonagall, Flitwick, and Sprout had apparently appealed to Dumbledore. Umbridge, however, was pissed; another educational decree was passed that stated “ _The High Inquisitor will henceforth have supreme authority over all punishments, sanctions, and removal of privileges pertaining to the students of Hogwarts, and the power to alter such punishments, sanctions and removals of privileges as may have been placed by other staff members_.” The ruling had been so infuriating that I could barely contain myself. Umbridge could literally do anything to any of us – including expel us – without Dumbledore’s authority. I was walking from Thursday Runes with Hermione, the two of us muttering together mutinously, when we saw the strangest sight of our lives –

Neville was walking towards us, looking positively depressed. He was pretty normal – still had his short beard, still had his disheveled robs as per usual.

But his hair was cut. It was cut awkwardly, and in strange shapes, so that it looked uneven all over – it was still somewhat curly, and still deliciously brown, only a shade lighter than my own; but all of it was too short to really tell, and it was well above his head. I looked at him in shock, my mouth dropping open. Hermione’s hands flew to her mouth.

“Nev,” I choked out.

“Umbridge decided that a boy should not have such a long haircut,” Neville whispered hoarsely. Blue was chirping in distress below us. Prior to this moment, his hair had been long enough for him to do a ponytail, and he had done on occasion.

“Oh my god,” I whispered.

“That cow!” Hermione hissed. Ginny walked up to us, seeing the sight, and her mouth dropping open in shock.

“She won’t get away with this – the cow – she won’t get away with it!” Ginny hissed, looking at the three of us angrily, “I’m going to go before you lot learn too much.” She stomped away and I ran to Neville, holding him tightly in my arms.

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered. He held tightly to me too, and we cried together in the middle of the corridor, not really giving a damn what other people thought.

The next evening, at dinner, Neville was eating silently. He had barely spoken since Umbridge had chopped his hair off. Blue, somehow sensing his sadness – and she had taken quite a liking to him – just sat in his lap, allowing him to scratch her throughout the day. I sighed, feeling at a loss of what to do. I wanted to kiss him, but I still didn’t now what had happened to his parents, and this hang up was major for me – I couldn’t help but feel like I deserved the same honestly that I had given him.

Suddenly, Ginny – who had just been briefly kissing Harry (I had to admit, the two of them were nauseatingly cute,) stood up. Everyone was still talking, not really paying attention – after all, people got up from dinner early all the time. I looked up at her curiously; she wasn’t moving. She swallowed heavily, and seemed to be preparing herself, before she clenched her fists and opened her mouth.

“NEVILLE IS NOT A BOY. HE IS AGENDER.”

The shout went out over the entire castle; everyone knew this now, this wasn’t news; still, her saying it was am act of open defiance of Umbridge, who would often punish people for calling Neville a wix, or referring to him as anything other than a boy.

Fred stood up then, nodding at Ginny, and shouted, “NEVILLE IS NOT A BOY, HE IS AGENDER.”

Ron stood up and shouted it then; so did Sam. Luna followed Sam, and to hear Luna shout was an amazing thing, as the girl never said anything over what might be considered a whisper. George followed, and even though Neville hated him, his increasingly touched expression continued to look touched. Claire followed, looking determined, glaring up at the staff table. Finally, Elena was the last to rise. She was shaking slightly, but she went and stood atop the Slytherin table.

“ _NEVILLE IS NOT A BOY! HE IS AGENDER!_ ” she shrieked. All eight of them now shouted it in unison, looking up at the staff table. Umbridge was fuming angrily, standing up from her space, raising her finger furiously.

“DETENTION! ALL OF YOU! AND ONE HUNDRED POINTS FROM GRYFFINDOR!” Umbridge screeched, “AND – AND – FIFTY FROM RAVENCLAW! AND FIFTY FROM SLYTHERIN!”

She might as well not have taken off points at that point, taking off so many from so many houses.

Ernie stood up then, glaring at her, “NEVILLE IS NOT A BOY. HE IS AGENDER.” Many more members of the D.A. stood up and followed suit – in fact, everyone but (once again) Marietta and Zacharias eventually stood up, shouting this at the top of their lungs. It became a chant around the hall, and Blue was extremely alarmed by it, hiding underneath the Gryffindor table. Neville had buried his face in his arms, sobbing uncontrollably.

Harry, Hermione and I also did not chant, but that was because we knew we’d be expelled if we did. We all just looked at each other in pure amazement.

“SILENCE!” Umbridge screeched. Dumbledore stood up, looking at her steadily.

“Dolores,” he said calmly. Umbridge whirled to face him, fuming heavily.

“You cannot expel this many students,” Dumbledore reminded calmly. Umbridge fumed more, but he had a point.

“FIFTY MORE POINTS FROM RAVENCLAW! FIFTY MORE FROM SLYTHERIN! ONE HUNDRED FROM HUFFLEPUFF!” Umbridge roared. It was the most pointless thing she had ever done – now every house was just a hundred back from where it had been before, “EVERY ONE OF YOU – DETENTIONS! A WEEK’S WORTH OF DETENTION!”

They all looked at her stonily, clearly not caring about this punishment.

“Come here,” she hissed, her voice projecting over the dead silent Great Hall, “And I will write _all of your names down_ for detentions!”

They all lined up. I looked over at Hermione in amazement. She just smiled weakly at me.

All the members of the D.A., except the four of us and the two un-rebellious ones, thus, got lines from Umbridge. I’m not sure how she procured that many blood-quills, but somehow she did, and they all had to write _there is no agender_ on their arms. None of them, however, looked regretful about it.

That Saturday, we had another Hogsmeade weekend; I was happy to get out of the castle, and I eagerly walked down to the village. Blue seemed to be functioning well; McGonagall and I were figuring our way through the brain problem; I was getting better at charms; I was slowly mastering Dracudo; and Umbridge was losing her control of the school. I was terrified, but at the very least, I had something like hope.

Dad was in the village again, and I walked up to him talking to Angelina. She was looking steadily happier every day; I tried to avoid her for her own sake, but I knew she was getting better, according to Alicia and Katie.

“Hello Maggie,” Dad greeted, beaming, and hugging me tightly.

“Hi Dad,” I smiled, giving him a long hug, “How’s it going?”

“Good,” Dad nodded.

“I’ve been getting better,” Angelina muttered softly. Her hood was down, now; her hair was actually in dreadlocks, though they were messier than they used to be.

“I’d like to say, erm… I don’t blame you at all, for what happened,” I whispered hoarsely. Angelina looked at me and nodded.

“Thanks, Maggie. That really means a lot,” she murmured. I reached out and patted her on the shoulder. Once they had finished their meeting, Harry came and joined us, looking flustered – he and Ginny must have been on another date.

“Hi Uncle Nathaniel,” he greeted cheerfully, giving Dad a hug.

“Hello Harry,” Dad beamed, “How have you two been?”

We looked at each other slyly out of the corners of our eyes; how were we supposed to say we had been leading an illegal student society? Blue, rather than coming outside, was in my room – she had been sleeping there for a while now, and I knew she wouldn’t wreck my stuff, especially since I left plenty of toys (mixture of bird and dog toys) for her to stimulate herself with. The bar was exceptionally noisy; we could barely hear each other over the voices of all the students coming down for the last trip before the Christmas Holidays.

“Exhausted,” Harry finally replied, “Between Umbridge and O.W.L.s, we have no free time.”

Dad nodded, smirking slightly, “And, you know, forming secret defense societies.”

I groaned loudly; Harry buried his face in his hands.

“Don’t worry about it, kids. McGonagall figured out what you were up to pretty quickly, and she told the Order. There was a debate to tell you all to stop, but McGonagall actually put her foot down – said it was the best show of unity she had seen at Hogwarts in years,” Dad paused, “Some parents still aren’t happy…”

“Mrs. Weasley,” I said at once.

“Yup, but she didn’t really have a leg to stand on,” Dad shrugged, “Your Mum and I are proud.”

Harry and I beamed at him happily.

“I actually had a question, Uncle Nathaniel,” Harry sighed after a minute.

“Yes?” Dad responded, frowning.

“Erm… could you tell me more about my parents?” Harry muttered. Dad looked shocked.

“Why… do you want _me_ …”

“Aunt Melinda won’t say anything,” Harry shrugged, “She refuses to. And Sirius… is also grief stricken, I think. Neither of them every tell me anything. But you weren’t close to my parents – well, you weren’t as close as they were, anyway.”

Dad sighed, “Melinda is afraid of how much she misses Lily. Sirius the same, but for James. I can try… when you come home. I don’t think this is the place.”

Harry nodded, looking dejected.

“Is everything all right, Harry?” Dad furthered. Harry looked up at him, frowning.

“I’ve been having these terrible dreams…” And Harry described his dreams in the corridor that he didn’t know. I listened, frowning – he hadn’t told us he was still having the dreams, but we _had_ all assumed that nothing changed.

Dad looked deeply troubled; he ran a hand through his hair nervously.

“Harry, I think I know what you’re dreaming of – what Voldemort is obsessed with,” Dad paused, “And it’s not good. I need to go back to the Order straightaway – please, _please_ , let us know if the dreams change at all.”

“But – you won’t tell me what he’s after?” Harry asked desperately.

“I can’t, not right now,” Dad shook his head mournfully, “I’m sorry – I promise, though, we’ll explain everything when you come home.”

Harry nodded; Dad hugged him and then me, leaving hurriedly. I looked over at Harry in worry.

“That was odd,” he muttered irritably. I clapped him on the shoulder, sighing heavily.

“All this secrecy – just cause we’re kids,” I grumbled, “It’s got to stop.”

“Agreed,” Harry nodded, “We have to be informed.”

This was an easier statement to make than to implement, however. Really, as the Christmas holidays approached, all any of us could focus on, now, was keeping Umbridge tamed. She would shriek at almost every D.A. member in the corridor, and was constantly taking points off of us – which thus put Slytherin in the lead, since fewer members were Slytherins. Still, no proper member of the Teenage Rebellion (as I called every D.A. member who actually participated in the activities) stopped – they were all too determined to wear Umbridge down and, as Fred said, ‘have her headed towards the hills, screaming.’

Still, I couldn’t help but think every time she would look into my eyes with enough hatred and fury to kill a small child, that it wouldn’t be so easy to get rid of her. We would need more than some silly teenage pranks and acts of civil disobedience. We would need something _huge_.

Unfortunately, with her watching me like a hawk, I hadn’t yet had time to go into the forest to see Herin. I could only hope that she was out meeting with dragons, and wasn’t increasingly getting pissed at me for not meeting her. After all, I might need her help in the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love your guys' comments; please, keep letting me know your thoughts!!!   
> The positions of Harry's nickname and the name for the four main characters are still open... I have one suggestion for the latter I like but it's not quite perfect. So that, ahahaha.   
> Please comment!


	66. Chapter Sixty - Five: December 18 - 24, 1995, Hogwarts and London

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'll face myself to cross out what I've become 
> 
> Erase myself 
> 
> And let go of what I've done 
> 
> Put to rest what you thought of me 
> 
> While I clean this slate 
> 
> With the hands of uncertainty 
> 
> So let mercy come and wash away 
> 
> What I've done." 
> 
> ~ Linkin Park, "What I've Done".

Chapter 65: December 18 – 24, 1995, Hogwarts and London

The last meeting of the D.A. for the term came both much too swiftly and much too slowly for my liking. On the one hand, I hated being at Hogwarts with the Umbitch here, and I was excited to get out for three weeks. On the other hand, the D.A. was one of the only times in my life at Hogwarts where I had actually felt as though I _belonged_. Sure, I loved Gryffindor, and I loved my friends, and I had great professors. But in the D.A., I knew people understood me; I wasn’t feared, I wasn’t shunned for being out there or different. And it made me feel happier than I had in ages, despite simultaneously being more terrified than I had ever been in my whole life.

I went into the Room of Requirement, getting there early before everyone else. I was shocked by the sight I saw – Dobby, who was aware of the D.A. having told Neville about the Room, was in there and currently putting up golden baubles on the ceiling. Each bobble had a picture of Harry’s face and had the words HAVE A VERY HARRY CHRISTMAS!

“Erm… hello, Dobby,” I laughed, unable to help myself.

“Hello Maggie Johnson, miss!” Dobby greeted cheerfully, “Does Maggie Johnson like the decorations?”

“I love them,” I grinned, looking around at the ivy that was hanging atop the ceiling. There was a bright, brilliantly decorated Christmas tree in the corner, and mistletoe hanging from the corner of the room. I thought quietly to myself, _I would love it if there was a Christmas wreath on the door_. One appeared, and I beamed happily.

“Brilliant idea, miss!” Dobby praised. I walked over to him and grinned.

“How are you doing? How’s Winky been?” I asked, sitting down next to where he was hanging baubles.

“Dobby has been wonderful, miss! Dobby is loving his freedom, miss!” Dobby looked happy, too. Honestly, how could someone _unhappy_ make more than a hundred golden Harry baubles?

But then Dobby turned sullen, “Winky has not been doing well, miss. Winky has been very in a bad way. Dobby does not know how to help Winky.”

I sighed heavily, “Well, I mean, sometimes there’s nothing anyone can do.”

Dobby nodded in agreement, “Dobby is just a friend to Winky, miss. That is all Dobby can offer.”

“That’s still a lot,” I pointed out. Dobby smiled at me and nodded, returning to hanging baubles.

“Do you ever feel weird that Malfoy is here, Dobby?” I asked after a few minutes of silence. Dobby looked at me, frowning.

“Well, Dobby does not like serving his old master, miss. But Dobby usually is in charge of cleaning the Gryffindor Common Room, miss, and so Dobby is nowhere _near_ Master Malfoy. Dobby usually does not think about him, miss. Oh, but if Dobby’s old masters found out that Dobby was here, now,” Dobby shuddered in fear, “Dobby is glad that he is invisible, miss. Dobby does not want Master Malfoy to see him.”

“Good call,” I nodded, “The kid is like a poop stain on the underwear of the world.”

Dobby laughed nervously, before looking horrified with himself and reaching for one of the lamps to try and hurt himself. I dove, grabbing the lamp, and forcing it away from him.

“Nuh-uh, you can think whatever the fuck you want about ‘em now, calm yourself Dobby!” I urged, wrestling the lamp out of his hands and putting it back. Dobby straightened out his tiny sweater and tiny pants that someone must have given him.

“Dobby thanks Maggie Johnson, miss, for stopping him,” Dobby smiled gratefully.

“Anything for a friend,” I beamed. Dobby looked so touched he began to cry.

“Oh, oh no, oh no _don’t –_ “ I groaned. Dobby was bawling now, however.

“Dobby is still not used to such kind and generous wizards, miss. Dobby knows that Dumbledore and Harry Potter and Maggie Johnson and their friends are good, miss, but Dobby often forgets _how_ good, miss,” he sniffled.

“Yeah, the Malfoys did a number on you,” I shook my head mournfully, “Good lord. Remind me to kick their asses some day on your behalf.”

Dobby sniffled, but smiled, and briefly made a move to grab the lamp again – upon seeing my face at this, he managed to pull his arm back from the lamp, shaking with the conflicting desires.

He turned and finished putting up the baubles, smiling at me once more.

“Dobby must go and complete his work in the kitchens, miss. Dobby will send some meat to Maggie Johnson’s room for Blue, miss,” Dobby leaned in and hissed, “Dobby would like to thank Maggie Johnson for training Blue to not eat him, miss.”

“Blue is not going to eat you,” I reassured, “Thanks for the help in feeding him.”

“Of course, miss,” Dobby beamed, “Good bye, Maggie Johnson!”

“Bye Dobby,” I laughed, and he apparated away. I rolled my eyes and got up, straightening some of the decorations as I waited for other members to come. Soon enough, Harry walked in, looking at the sight of the Harry baubles and groaning.

“Dobby put them up, come on, don’t take them down,” I urged, grinning at him. Harry shook his head in utter bemusement.

“This is officially mental. Ah well,” he looked at me, “Ready to get the hell out of here?”

“ _Am_ I?” I chortled, “The idea is music to my ears.”

“Kinda sucks the Weasleys won’t be at Grimmauld Place,” Harry muttered irritably. I looked at him sadly, frowning a little.

“I mean, on the one hand, I’m relieved, don’t get me wrong!” Harry quickly reassured, “But on the other hand, I’ll miss Gin. A _lot_.”

“You guys are really doing well, huh?” I asked him softly. Harry looked at me for a long moment.

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Why did you hesitate?”

“Well I mean… I love her, a lot. She’s absolutely brilliant, and she’s so fierce and independent and strong and literally everything I could want in a woman,” Harry looked off dreamily for a minute before bringing himself back.

“But…?”

“I can picture a future with her, of course. But… I dunno… I guess I kind of figured that I’d decidedly _want_ her to be a part of the future, you know? Like… whenever I picture the future, I don’t _always_ picture her in it with me. I picture our family, and I picture Neville and Hermione, but I often have to _remind_ myself to picture her too,” Harry frowned, “And I don’t know what that means.”

I looked at him sadly, “I don’t know what to tell you, Harry. Maybe it’s just a getting used to it thing. I’ve pictured our family and Neville and Hermione in our futures since first year.”

“Yeah, that’s the thing,” Harry frowned, “So did I. But for some reason Ginny always feels out of place when I do that.”

I sighed heavily, “I don’t know what to tell you. But I do know this – don’t necessarily throw a good thing away for some weird mental block you have. Have a good reason for it.”

Harry nodded in agreement, “Yeah.”

Secretly, however, I was rejoicing. If Harry was having doubts about Ginny, there was hope for Hermione yet. Still, I played the actress, and looked at him with as sympathetic of an expression as I could muster.

Luna walked in then, looking around dreamily at the room.

“Hello guys,” she greeted, smiling slight, “These are nice, did you put them up?”

“No, Dobby the house-elf did,” Harry grumbled in annoyance. I giggled happily behind my hand.

“Mistletoe,” Luna pointed out, smiling dreamily. Harry’s face flushed madly, backing away from it.

“Good thinking,” Luna nodded seriously, “It’s often infested with nargles.”

I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing too hard as a gaggle of Gryffindors walked into the room, talking animatedly with one another and interrupting whatever Luna could say about nargles. Ginny walked up to Harry and he got up to kiss her, acting as enthusiastically as always. It wasn’t exactly a sight I enjoyed seeing, so I secretly stuck my tongue out in disgust as I got up to walk over to Sam, who was sulking in a corner.

“What’s up, grumpy tiger?” I asked teasingly. Sam rolled his eyes at me.

“I swear, if I knew that name was going to exist, I never would have gotten the tattoo,” Sam muttered irritably.

“But seriously, what’s up?” I furthered, frowning.

“Not looking forward to the Holidays. We’re just going to be back at our old house, not in London, so it means another extremely quiet Christmas,” Sam muttered angrily.

“I’m sorry,” I frowned, “Why aren’t you at Headquarters?”

“Aunt Iseul wants to be at home,” Sam rolled his eyes, “I dunno. Guess she misses it. She spends all her time traveling to Korea to talk to our relatives there for the Order, she’s trying to get people to join up and help. It’s succeeding, but I guess she misses being in Bristol or something.”

“How dare she,” I snorted.

“You laugh,” Sam sighed, “I hate Bristol. It’s the absolute worst.”

“Well, I’m going back to London, where I lived on the streets, so…” I paused.

“For, like, a week, don’t even –“ Sam rolled his eyes.

“I’d like to see _you_ try it, it was nerve-wracking!” I insisted.

“Fair enough,” Sam shrugged. Harry was now facing the group, who was all there. We both stood up straighter to listen to him.

“Okay,” Harry called, “I thought this evening we should just go over the things we’ve done so far, because it’s the last meeting before the holidays and there’s no point to starting anything new right before a three-week break –“

“We’re not doing anything new?” Zacharias Smith demanded angrily, “If I’d known that, I wouldn’t have come…”

“We’re all really sorry Harry didn’t tell you, then,” Fred responded loudly. A good portion of the room laughed.

“We can practice in pairs,” Harry ordered calmly, “We’ll start with the Impediment Jinx, just for ten minutes, then we can get out the cushions and try Stunning again.”

I looked around for Neville and found him walking towards me, beaming at me. That smile always made my heart do really stupid stuff. I grinned back at him, raising my wand and staring at him intensely. His hair was starting to look more normal now, though still shorter than it should be; Hermione had helped him even out the ends.

“Ready?” I asked cheekily.

“Are you?” he grinned back. We stared at each other for a minute, clearly sizing each other up, trying to decide whether or not to attack. And then –

“ _Impedimenta!_ ” I shouted. Neville froze instantly, his facial expression clearly pissed, and I giggled helplessly while I waited for him to un-freeze. When he did, I was still giggling, and I was forced to freeze like that as he shouted the spell at me.

When I un-froze, I shouted, “Oh come on!” Neville sniggered happily.

“Come on, let’s go again,” I rolled my eyes. We spent a little while freezing each other, him getting me a few more times than I got him, but that was okay. After we were done with that, we put cushions up all around the room, about to practice stunners – which I was decidedly better at than he was. I got Neville twice as much as he got me, and giggled happily at his frustrated expression when he came to after my latest triumph. Still, he was much better at stunners than he had been before the class, and no one in their right mind would call him bad at it.

One of the times he did get me, I fell back and unfortunately had appeared to miss the cushion. When I came too, my head was throbbing painfully. I groaned softly and looked around to see that Neville was holding me, gently putting an ice pack that he must have gotten from the Room on my head.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry!” he was apologizing breathlessly.

“Don’t be, that was really good!” I urged. Harry, who was watching to make sure I was okay, snorted loudly.

“But you hit your head!” Neville groaned worriedly.

“I’ll be _fine_ ,” I insisted.

“We all know, looking back on that moment, that this was when the insanity had set in; the signs had all been there at the time, but still we were hopeful, begging the fates to spare our dear Maggie –“ Harry said dramatically. I had enough strength to grab my wand and shouted, “ _Stupefy!_ ” Harry fell back onto a pile of cushions, and I grinned proudly.

“Oh come on, he didn’t deserve to be stunned for that,” Neville was chortling as he said this in spite of himself.

“He _decidedly_ deserved to be stunned for that,” I giggled, getting up and removing the ice pack from my head, “Seriously, Nev, I’m fine.”

Neville set the ice pack aside and gently rubbed my arm, “If you’re sure…”

“I’m positive,” I nodded firmly, pressing my forehead into his chest as Harry stirred next to us, “Come on, let’s keep practicing.”

 We continued until an hour and a half had gone by, and Harry motioned around the room. We all turned to look at him, many of us still dazed and confused from being stunned.

Harry looked happier than I had seen him in ages, beaming at everyone. “You’re getting really good,” he praised, “When we get back from the holidays we can start doing some of the big stuff – maybe even Patronuses.”

Everyone began murmuring in excitement. I turned to Neville, grinning slightly.

“How much do you want to bet that mine’s a dragon?” I hissed.

“That isn’t even a bet, Maggie, everyone knows your animagus form and your patronus line up,” Neville shook his head in bemusement.

“Patronuses can change, though,” Hermione frowned, walking up to us.

“Yeah, in response to great trauma or something, but I went through my trauma at the same time I found my animagus form,” I smirked, looking at her. All of this was said in hushed voices, so the people milling about to leave for the holidays couldn’t hear.

“Well, that’s true,” Hermione acknowledged.

“By the way, how’s that going for you?” I asked, frowning.

“Oh, I finished,” she shrugged.

“ _What_?!” Neville and I shouted in unison.

“Yeah, I did a few weeks ago, but that was around when Katherine and Peter had released a giant pack of nifflers in Umbridge’s office, and I didn’t want to steal their spotlight or anything,” Hermione shrugged.

“Oh come on!” I rolled my eyes, “This is so much more important than that!”

“Harry!” Neville called, eagerly waving him over. Harry looked at us questioningly and quickly walked over.

“What?” he asked, frowning.

“Hermione’s got something to tell us,” Neville rolled his eyes.

Hermione looked at us all in bemusement before shaking her head silently, “I found my animagus form.”

“You’re kidding!” Harry hissed.

“I am _not_ , it happened in the middle of all the pranking chaos, I didn’t want to distract from that, or at worst, have Umbridge overhear…” Hermione trailed off, frowning.

“So what are you?” I asked eagerly, bouncing up and down. Hermione looked at me in amusement.

“A crow,” she shrugged, flushing madly.

“Dude, of course!” I gasped, hitting myself in the forehead with my palm, “How come _I_ didn’t think of that?”

“Why is that obvious?” Harry frowned.

“Look, all mythology surrounding crows aside – seriously, it’s all bullcrap – crows are the second smartest non-magical animal, only following humans!” I urged, “Yeah, plenty of magical beasts are smarter, but they don’t really count, magical powers actually often leads to the evolution of intelligence –“

“So it’s Hermione,” Harry snorted.

“Yup,” I nodded eagerly, “Also, in animagi theory, reptilian and avian animagi are rebellious, contrary, and typically freer in terms of personality.”

“So, Hermione,” Neville grinned. Hermione was rolling her eyes in amusement.

 “Crows also have a very discrete language, and are good at blending in with animals that aren’t crows, like pigeons, and can imitate them to get food given to pigeons –“ I continued.

“So, Hermione, pretending to be a proper witch, when really she’s a rebellious anti-establishment genius,” Harry chortled. Hermione stomped on his foot in irritation.

“Fine, yes, it’s obvious and clear, I get it,” Hermione rolled her eyes.

“This means we can fly together!” I hissed eagerly, bouncing on my feet, “Dude, we should do that soon, It’ll be so much fun –“

“Yes, yes, just don’t _eat_ me,” Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Why would I eat you?” I responded defensively. Hermione snorted and shrugged.

“ _I_ don’t know what you’re like when you’re a dragon, for all I know you could be the most bloodthirsty creature –“

“Oh come on!” I laughed as Hermione continued to giggle. We all happily left the Room together, me eagerly describing (still, in a hushed voice, in case anyone was around,) how much joy it was to fly on your own speed.

Neville and I got back to our own room, me eagerly walking up and scratching Blue, who appeared to have been waiting for us. She chirped happily and, having gotten her pets from me, immediately went up to Neville expectantly. Neville chuckled softly and reached down to scratch her too, smirking at the little dinosaur.

“So is she coming home with us?” Neville asked, reaching to also pet her back as he scratched the back of her head.

“She has to, doesn’t she? I mean McGonagall can’t look after her as much as she needs,” I shrugged, “ _I_ barely can. No, we’ll have to take her with us. I just hope Mum will be cool with it.”

Neville laughed, sitting on the floor now, as Blue had apparently insisted on nesting in his lap again.

“Your Gran still at Headquarters?” I asked, frowning.

“Yeah,” Neville sighed, “I’m glad, though, otherwise I’d be going home to Otley again,” Neville groaned, “If there is anything worse than Leeds, it’s a tiny town just _outside_ of Leeds.”

I giggled quietly, “Oh dear.”

“But she’s been doing a lot of work for the Order, and well, she’s not going to just stop because I’m home,” Neville sighed, “I’m glad, of course, but I haven’t actually talked to her in ages, really.”

“I’m sorry Neville,” I murmured, nudging him in what I hoped was a comforting gesture with the top of my head. Neville smiled at me in gratitude.

“I’m just glad that George won’t be there. Things have been so chaotic here he hasn’t been able to corner me alone,” I frowned, “But there…”

“Yeah, I’m thanking any higher deities that may or may not exist that he’s not going to be there,” Neville nodded firmly, absent-mindedly petting Blue as she napped in his lap, “I think he’s trying to get back in your good graces.”

“You mean all the ridiculous shit he’s been pulling to antagonize Umbridge?” I clarified. Neville nodded.

“I mean, he’s just doing what Fred’s been doing…” I paused thoughtfully.

“True, but I mean, I still think he’s trying to get you to talk to him,” Neville shook his head mournfully, “When are you going to confront him, Maggie? You can’t let him get away with what he did…”

“I know I can’t, I just,” I sighed heavily, “I’ve been so happy lately, with the D.A. being what it is, and feeling like I belong, and doing well in Charms at last… and by well, I mean getting _two A’s_ on my essays, which is huge, and…”

“I know,” Neville nodded in understanding, running a hand nervously through his hair, “I know…”

“And the moment I bring it up, all hell will break loose. I mean the only people who know are you, Harry, Hermione, Ginny, and McGonagall. How are we supposed to tell Fred what George did? How do we tell Ron? Elena, Claire, Sam – how would they all react? Hagrid _loves_ the twins – how will he deal with this news? How will his parents? How will the Order?” I sighed heavily, “I will tell him eventually, it’ll just be a huge explosion that will definitely be overwhelming, and if anyone sides with _him_ –“

“Upsetting,” Neville finished. I nodded fiercely.

“I know,” Neville pursed his lips together in a thin line, “But eventually it’ll be unavoidable.”

“I know,” I muttered mournfully.

“Like, what if we _are_ in a situation when you can’t avoid him? You’re going to have to tell him, Maggie, you can’t keep dodging him forever, and… if he tries to attack you, or if he comes after you, or yells at you or something, I’m not… eventually I’m going to fight him, and I don’t know if I’ll be able to keep enough of a level head to not tell him what he did,” Neville whispered sadly, looking ashamed of his hypothetical self, “I’m sorry.”

“I would understand, Neville,” I reassured, “He did a terrible thing to me and of course you want to protect me from that happening again. Don’t worry about that.”

“Thanks,” he smiled slightly, leaning over and kissing me on the cheek. This jostled Blue, who yelped and scurried back over to her bed to continue sleeping. I looked over at Neville in amusement, flushing completely madly.

“It also means,” I grinned cheekily, “That Ginny won’t be around.”

Neville grinned back before groaning loudly, burying his face in his hands.

“Oh my god, I feel so _terrible_ whenever we talk badly about her – I still love her, she’s our closest friend outside the Squad –“

“The Squad? We’re going with that now?” I sighed heavily.

“But she and Harry are so nauseating sometimes, and I mean, I just want Hermione to have a bloody merry… erm… Chanukah?” Neville frowned.

“Oh crap, I think that started today, we should have said something,” I groaned in embarrassment.

“Dammit,” Neville agreed, “Alright, so tomorrow we buy her gifts –“

“How would we even do that? It’s a class day,” I smirked, “And we always just give her presents on Christmas, she said she didn’t mind…”

“Anywho, the main point being, I want Hermione to have a nice Holiday, and she can’t see her parents anyway,” Neville shook his head.

“Sucks they had to go back to Israel,” I nodded sadly.

“Her teta died, Hermione wanted to go too,” Neville frowned, “But Dumbledore didn’t think it was safe…”

“When does Dumbledore ever think anything is safe?” I muttered angrily, “Anyway, yes, Ginny’s absence will be good to help Hermione have a decent holiday.”

“And Harry will be the pining love-struck idiot we can all predict based on his current behavior,” Neville scowled in annoyance. I looked at him for a moment, frowning.

“What?” Neville asked curiously.

“That might not be true,” I admitted.

“Really?” Neville raised his eyebrows in excitement.

“Oh man, I feel so bad about this, look at you, you’re getting glee at one of our friend’s misfortunes,” I groaned.

Neville looked embarrassed, “Yeah, I’m a terrible person, but tell me!”

“Harry said he felt odd picturing a future with her. Like he could, but it didn’t feel quite right,” I hissed eagerly. Neville’s face grew into a wide smile.

“Oh that’s good, let’s hope he rides that train,” Neville laughed, “Oh excellent.”

“And we will comfort Ginny and help her on a path to a better relationship, _right?_ ” I hissed.

“Of course,” Neville agreed earnestly, “Look, I would even root for those two if I thought it was healthy, but they don’t seem to tell each other _anything_ – when you’re in a relationship with someone, you have to completely open and honest, or else it’ll never last, and –“

“Exactly,” I took my opportunity to but in, looking at him intensely. Neville flushed heavily.

“A-and, yes, well, erm,” he stammered, “And they _aren’t_ like that, Ginny never tells him what she’s up to and vice-versa, and it doesn’t seem like it’s a good idea for them to keep on with it, especially if Harry is starting to have second thoughts.”

I mentally sighed, but managed to keep my composure externally as I responded, “Indeed. But we can’t push him. Maybe they’ll get through this, we don’t know.”

“Yeah,” Neville nodded, before yawning adorably. I grinned at him slightly.

“We should sleep. We have bloody history of magic _and_ potions tomorrow,” Neville groaned. I nodded, and after we had changed individually in the bathroom we both fell asleep soundly. As I began to sleep, I curled up around him, wrapping my arms around his waist. I enjoyed feeling him in my arms, and the sensation lulled me into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

“Maggie! Neville!” a voice hissed loudly. I stirred groggily, uncoiling from around Neville and sitting up, rubbing my eyes. Neville was stirring, I could see, and McGonagall was standing in front of us.

“Wh- what?” I asked tiredly. I could only have been asleep for a few hours, if that.

“Get up! Put on some clothes, now!” she urged, “Go!”

I scrambled up, emerging from the bed in my usual pajamas – shorts and a tank top – looking at McGonagall in shock. Neville was also scrambling upwards, in his usual – flannel pants and a t-shirt.

“Wha,” he grumbled in annoyance.

“Why?” I demanded, “What’s going on?”

“Never mind, you two are decent, come on,” McGonagall urged. She grabbed Blue from her sleep, causing Blue to hiss loudly; McGonagall put her hand firmly around Blue’s mouth to keep her from making any more sound.

“Go!” McGonagall urged. Neville and I both grabbed our wands from the nightstands and rushed forward, running into the hallway. McGonagall followed and urged us down the stairs, through the hallways, until finally we reached Dumbledore’s office.

“Fizzing Whizbee!” McGonagall said to the gargoyle guarding the office; Blue still struggling in her arms. The gargoyle sprang to life and leapt aside; a stone staircase was revealed behind it and moved upward continuously like an escalator. We all stepped on the stairs and the walls closed behind us with a thud. I looked over at Neville in worry, and his expression mirrored mine as we walked into Dumbledore’s office.

Harry was already there, looking haggard as all hell, still in his pajamas (a sleeveless shirt and sweatpants). Next to him, pacing nervously, was Hermione, in her flannel pajama set. She looked at us in horror and I ran up to Harry, looking around fearfully. McGonagall then left without a word, setting Blue into my arms. Blue looked at me and hissed angrily.

“Sorry Blue,” I muttered, setting her down on the ground. She looked around at everything angrily, as an animal forcibly put into a new environment _would._

 _“_ What’s going on?” I demanded, terrified.

“Your mother has been injured in the course of her work for the Order of the Phoenix,” Dumbledore answered swiftly, “She has been taken to St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. I am sending you back to Headquarters now, rather than when term ends. You will meet your father there. Neville, your grandmother was also wounded in the attack, but not as badly.”

I looked at Dumbledore in shock, my mouth falling open in terror.

“Professor McGonagall is currently going back to collect Elena from the Slytherin dormitories,” Dumbledore continued, “You will need to take a Portkey, as the Floo Network is being watched.”

“Why is Hermione here?” Neville managed to choke out.

“I was in the Common Room trying to read when – when Harry came downstairs,” Hermione explained quietly.

“I saw it happen,” Harry whispered hoarsely, looking at me in fear. He was completely pale and sweating profusely, “I was… Aunt Melinda and Neville’s Gran were guarding something… and I was… I was a snake… and I… the snake… attacked them, and Neville’s Gran jumped away, but Aunt Melinda wasn’t fast enough…”

I felt my hands go up to my mouth and I looked at him in horror. Harry was shaking, looking like he was going to be sick.

McGonagall returned then, Elena in toe, dressed in her nightgown, looking terrified.

“What happened to Mum? Maggie, what happened to Mum?” she demanded, tears coming into her eyes. I found I was unable to speak as I opened my mouth wordlessly.

A flash of flame went off in the middle of the office, startling Blue into scurrying to hide under a table. A single golden feather floated gently to the floor.

“It is Fawkes’ warning,” Dumbledore sighed, “She must know you’re out of your beds… Minerva, go and head her off – tell her any story –“

Professor McGonagall left in a rush.

“Now, quickly, all of you,” Dumbledore urged, making us come to a blackened kettle. I grabbed Blue in my arms and she shrieked again.

“I am sorry, Maggie, but I will have to put her in a magical sleep,” Dumbledore urged. I nodded. He waved his wand wordlessly and Blue’s eyes slowly closed; she crouched into her sleeping position in my arms, her head tucked under her wing.

“Good,” he nodded in satisfaction, “Everyone, grab a hold of the kettle. On the count of three, it will take you to Grimmauld place.”

I grabbed the kettle, making sure to clutch Blue tightly in my arms.

“Three… two… one…”

There was a powerful and painful jerk behind my navel; the ground vanished from beneath my feet, we were all banging about into each other as we sped forward in a swirl of colors and a rush of wind, we were pulled on and on and on and then I was on the ground, my knees buckling in shock, Blue still safely nestled in my arms. Dumbledore looked at me and waved his wand again, and she woke up, squawking now in even greater distress. He then apparated away with a crack, causing Blue to practically scream in horror.

“Shh, shh, shh, calm _down,_ Blue, it’s okay!” I reassured, setting her down on the ground to give her her power back. Blue looked around in confusion, peering at every nook and cranny, hissing so loudly she could have waked the whole of London. Sirius hurried towards us, stepping back in shock when he saw the raptor in the middle of his kitchen.

“What’s going on?” he asked hurriedly, “Phineas Nigellus said Melinda’s been badly injured, and Augusta was also hurt –“

Harry explained again what he had seen, looking ashamed from himself, as though _he_ had attacked Mum, which couldn’t have possibly been true, as he wasn’t a snake. Elena looked horrified. Blue had run off to another room in the house out of stress.

“Where’s Dad?” Elena asked, shaking madly.

“He probably doesn’t even know what’s happened yet,” Sirius reassured, “The important thing was to get you away before Umbridge could interfere. I expect Dumbledore’s letting Nathaniel know now.”

“We’ve got to go to St. Mungo’s!” I cried, “Sirius, can you lend us cloaks or anything?”

“You can’t go tearing off to St. Mungo’s,” Sirius insisted.

“Of course we can, it’s Mum!” Elena sobbed.

“And how are you going to explain how you knew Melinda was attacked before the hospital even let her husband know?”

There was a loud ripping sound from another room; Blue was destroying something.

Neville looked at Sirius angrily, “Why does that even matter?”

“It matters because we don’t want to draw attention to the fact that Harry is having visions of things that are happening hundreds of mils away!” Sirius shot back, “Have you any idea what the Ministry would make of that information?”

I stared at my feet, shacking from head to toe. My fingers were starting to twitch and I forced myself to look up and at Neville for a long time to calm myself down.

“August and Melinda have been hurt while on Duty for the Order and the circumstances are fishy enough without his children knowing about it seconds after it happened, you could seriously damage the Order’s mission,” Sirius urged.

I swallowed heavily, running my hand through my bangs. Neville gritted his teeth tightly. None of us said anything. We all knew there were things in this war worth dying for.

“Let’s all have a drink. Maggie, your pet is ruining the couch – it’s a terrible couch, but please try and calm her down,” Sirius urged. I ran forward and grabbed Blue, who was ripping apart the cushions. Blue hissed at me and I set her down on the ground again, kneeling down to look at her at her eye level. Blue snapped at me, something she had never done before, but I decidedly deserved it.

“Hey, hey, hey,” I whispered softly, though I was shaking, reaching out with my hand but not touching her, “Hey. It’s okay. It’s okay. It’s _okay_.”

I kept making soothing noises and giving her space, looking at her intensely. Eventually Blue stopped growling and looked at me intensely. I reached out and gently scratched behind her ears, continuing to do so until she relaxed and made her eyes scrunch up happily again. I sighed with relief.

“Come on,” I urged, leading Blue back into the kitchen. Blue followed behind me, nervous again now that we were moving, looking around at everything and growling.

“Blue,” I snapped. She looked up at me immediately. I walked over to Sirius, who was standing up and staring at me, and I patted him on the head. Blue wandered over and looked at Sirius expectantly.

“You have to scratch her _just_ behind her crest – here,” I pointed out. Sirius hesitated for a split second before reaching down and scratching, causing Blue’s eyes to do the thing again. He looked at me with all kinds of confusion on his face.

“You’ve established yourself as a friend, you’re good now,” I sighed, “I’ll have to do this with Dad, and – and…” I couldn’t get out the word _Mum_. Harry, Elena, Neville and Hermione were all drinking butterbeer, not speaking.  

“Care to explain this strange bird in my house?” Sirius questioned, still scratching Blue.

“She’s not a bird, she’s a non-avian dinosaur,” I explained calmly. Sirius raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“Alright so my transfiguration research project is to study how birds and dragons evolved by looking at their genes and using complex cross-species switches and conjuring spells and reversal spells to de-evolve them back into dinosaurs, and then using fossils to look at their non-direct ancestor relatives,” I explained, “In this project’s case, we wanted to create a dinosaur that wasn’t a bird from a bird, specifically a raven. Birds are dinosaurs,” I clarified, “Anyway, _Velociraptor_ is an extremely well known, close relative of birds. So we worked on it all term, using some stuff my Gran did already, and created Blue. Blue is not quite a _Velociraptor_ – she still has some bird behaviors and she has the intelligence of the raven from which she came because shrinking the brain is a difficult process – but she’s almost one. Anyway, she’s my pet now,” I shrugged.

Sirius shook his head in bemusement, “Well, she’s interesting.”

“She’s adorable,” Elena muttered softly into her mug of butterbeer.

“And she will rip off your face if you piss her off too much,” I rolled my eyes, “See her teeth and claws? Come on guys, get it together.” Talking about my work was calming me down.

There was suddenly a burst of fire in midair, and Blue yelped in terror as we all shouted in shock as a scroll of parchment fell onto the table, accompanied by a single golden phoenix tail feather.

“Fawkes!” Sirius shouted, grabbing the parchment, “That’s not Dumbledore’s writing – it must be a message from Nathaniel – here –“

He gave me the parchment and I opened it, reading aloud, “ _Mum and Mrs. Longbottom are still alive. I am setting out for St. Mungo’s now. Stay where you are. I will send news as soon as I can. Dad.”_

I swallowed heavily, looking at Harry desperately. Harry’s eyes did not meet my own.

“Still alive,” Elena whispered, “But that makes it sound…”

Blue, sensing the distress of all of us, began making small chirping noises. I sat down on the floor, cross-legged, and Blue immediately climbed into my lap. I scratched behind her crest absent-mindedly, staring off into space. I didn’t even know what to think in those moments. All I wanted was for this all to be over, for the War to end, and for the people I loved to be safe.

At ten past five in the morning, the door swung open and Dad entered the kitchen. He looked paler than I had ever seen him, but he gave us all a weak smile when we looked up at him. Blue started hissing again.

“They’re going to be all right,” he murmured tiredly, “They’re sleeping. We can all go and see them later. Mr. Weasley is with them now, he’s taking the morning off of work.”

I immediately got up, startling Blue, but I didn’t care much; I rushed forward and tackled Dad in a hug. Elena did the same, and even Neville did, the three of us holding him tightly. I was crying heavily into his shirt.

When I pulled back, I went back to Blue and led Dad too her. Dad looked at Blue with a smile; after all, I had told him and Mum about her in my letters. I patted Dad on the head, and then Dad reached down and gave Blue scritchles.

“Breakfast!” Sirius cheered, “I’ll make it myself, I’m not in the mood to find that elf –“

“Blue will probably eat him, anyway. Do you have any raw meat?” I asked weakly.

“As a matter of fact,” Sirius smiled, walking to the refrigerator and grabbing a hunk of steak. He waved his wand and it warmed up; I grabbed it and set it on the floor in front of Blue, who immediately went to town.

Dad had pulled Harry into a hug; he looked startled.

“Son, I’m so glad you saw what happened, if it hadn’t been for you they wouldn’t have found them for hours – the venom acted fast in Mrs. Longbottom, but she’ll recover quicker since she didn’t get bitten as much – but then it would have been too late, but thanks to you they’re both alive and Dumbledore has a good cover story for them…” Dad was crying, something I hardly ever saw him do.

Harry was crying too, but he looked guilty. I couldn’t understand why. It wasn’t like he had _actually_ been the snake; how could he have been?

Dad, who always loved to cook, immediately started helping with the breakfast; Harry grabbed Sirius and pulled him into another room. I ate breakfast and then stumbled upstairs to bed, exhausted beyond belief. Neville came with, and we fell asleep on the bed. I wasn’t even awake enough to force Blue to sleep somewhere else. Unsurprisingly, she was so tired she didn’t move around or kick much in her sleep.  

We all went – except for Blue, who would have stuck out, who stayed at home with Sirius – to St. Mungo’s that afternoon after our trunks arrived from Hogwarts, happily changed into normal clothing. Moody and Tonks came too, as a sort of guard. We arrived at a large, old-fashioned, red brick department store called Purge and Dowse Ltd. The place was shabby and decrepit; honestly, I wouldn’t have been surprised if I had slept on the roof of it over the summer. There were large signs on the doors that said CLOSED FOR REFURBISHMENT.

“Right,” Tonks said brightly, beaming at all of us, “Everybody ready?”

I nodded, shifting somewhat. Tonks leaned up close to the glass, peering at a very ugly dummy and said, “Wotcher… We’re here to see Melinda Johnson and Augusta Longbottom.”

The dummy gave a tiny nod – _Oh magic,_ I thought in amusement – and Tonks seized Elena and Hermione by the elbows, stepping through the glass and vanishing. I went in then with Neville, and soon Moody and Harry followed us. It was like stepping through a sheet of cool water, emerging warm and dry on the other side. Now we were in a crowded reception area, with rows of wixen sitting on rickety chairs, some looking sick and others normal. Some wizen in lime-green robes were walking up and down the rows, asking questions and making notes on clipboards like Umbridge’s. They had a wand and a bone crossed embroidered on their chests as an emblem.

“Healers,” Neville explained quietly. I nodded silently. We went up to a queue in front of a plump blonde witch seated at a desk marked INQUIRIES. There were posters everywhere warning against dangerous magical practices. As we moved forward, I read all of them, and then saw a poster listing the different floors. The ground floor had Artifact Accidents, the first Creature-Induced Injuries, the second Magical Bugs, the third Potion and Plant poisoning, the fourth Spell Damage, and the fifth was a Visitor’s tearoom and hospital shop.

“Where do wixen go for non-magical health problems?” I hissed at Neville. He shrugged.

“Some of them can be fixed with magic. Others, I dunno,” he frowned.

“Like cancer – can wixen cure cancer? If so, that’s pretty scummy of them, not helping muggles,” I frowned.

“No idea,” Neville admitted quietly, clearly trying to not draw attention to himself. We reached the front of the line and Dad approached the desk.

“Hello,” he greeted, “My wife, Melinda Johnson, was supposed to be moved to a different ward this morning, along with his,” he grabbed Neville and pulled him forward, “Grandmother, Augusta Longbottom. Could you tell us -?”

“Melinda Johnson and Augusta Longbottom?” the witch responded, looking at a long list in front of her, “Yes, first floor, second door on the right, Dai Llewellyn ward.”

“Thank you, come on guys,” Dad nodded at us. We went through the double doors and through a narrow corridor, up a flight of stairs and entered the “Creature-Induced Injuries” corridor, where the second door on the right bore the words “DANGEROUS” DAI LLEWELLYN WARD: SERIOUS BITES. There was a card underneath that said _Healer-in-charge: Hippocrates Smethwyck, Trainee Healer: Augustus Pye_.

“We’ll wait outside, Nate,” Tonks nodded, “They won’t want too many visitors at once, it ought to just be family first.”

Dad nodded, grabbing all of us kids, even Hermione, though she briefly protested, and dragged us inside. The ward was small and dingy and there was only one window. There were only four patients; Mum was in the bed at the far end of the ward beside the tiny window. Next to her was Mrs. Longbottom. Both of them were up and reading. Mrs. Longbottom looked quite well; Mum was bandaged up all over.

“Hello,” Mum beamed, waving us over. I ran up to her, sitting down eagerly at her side.

“How are you doing, sweetheart?” Dad asked kindly.

“I feel fine,” Mum sighed, “But every time they take off the bandages, I bleed like mad. It’s why Augusta can’t go home either. There was some rather unusual kind of poison in the snake’s fangs that keeps wounds open… They’re sure they’ll find an antidote, though, they say they’ve had much worse cases than ours, and in the meantime we take Blood-Replenishing Potions every hour.”

“They say I can go home soon,” August said quietly. Neville was sitting next to her, holding her hand, “I only have a small bite, they’ll call me when they get the antidote, I barely need the potions.”

“So… where were you, Mum, when it attacked?” I asked quietly.

“You know what I was up to,” Mum looked at me, frowning slightly, “Come now.”

I sighed, nodding in defeat. This would not be a mystery I’d get to solve today. Mum went on, talking eagerly about something in the paper, as I looked over at Neville. His face was white and pale, still, and August appeared to be soothing him quietly under her breath.

“Mad-Eye and Tonks are outside, honey, they want to speak with us. You lot can go wait outside,” Dad order, nodding at all of us kids, “You’ll say good-bye after. Go on…”

We all went out into the corridor. I pressed my ear against the door, trying to hear what they said. I couldn’t make out anything.

“Here,” Hermione scoffed, pressing her ear up against the crack of the door and straining. Harry went to the crack underneath the door, and Neville and I followed suit. Elena couldn’t squeeze in, so she leaned against the wall, rolling her eyes.

“They searched the whole area but they couldn’t find the snake anywhere, it just seems to have vanished after it attacked you both –“

“When it bit me, my vision swam, I couldn’t see anything, even though I remained conscious,” Augusta affirmed.

“You-Know-Who couldn’t have expected a snake to get in, could he?”

“I reckon he sent it as a lookout,” Moody growled, “’Cause he’s not had any luck so far, has he? No, I reckon he’s trying to get a clearer picture of what he’s facing and if you two hadn’t been there the beast would’ve had much more time to look around. So Potter says he saw it all happen?”

“Yes,” Dad sighed, “You know, Dumbledore seems to almost have been waiting for Harry to see something like this…”

“Yeah, well, there’s something funny about the Potter kid, we all know that,” Moody grunted.

“Dumbledore seemed worried about Harry when I spoke to him this morning,” Dad whispered.

“’Course he’s worried,” Moody growled, “The boy’s seeing things from inside You-Know-Who’s snake… Obviously, Potter doesn’t realize what that means, but if You-Know-Who’s possessing him –“

We all stared at each other in complete and utter shock. Harry looked like he had seen a ghost. The rest of the day, he refused to talk to any of us. When we got home, he went straight to sleep. And, for the rest of the week leading up to Christmas, the only times Neville and I saw him was when we were at dinner. I couldn’t even ever find him in the house to try and reassure him; and frankly, I had no idea of what to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *eagerly makes sounds about the next chapter before slinking into the shadows to write it before going to bed*  
> Also, please comment :)


	67. Chapter Sixty - Six: December 25, 1995, London

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Do you think of me the way I think of you? 
> 
> Do you hope for things most likely won't come true? 
> 
> Do you dream of me like I dream of you? 
> 
> Tell me darlin' please, tell me true 
> 
> Do you hum a little tune all day long? 
> 
> Do you hear my name in the chorus of your song? 
> 
> When you sing your song, does it make you feel brand new? 
> 
> Tell me darlin', please, tell me true 
> 
> Do you wonder why we live and why we die? 
> 
> Do you wonder why we laugh and why we cry? 
> 
> Do you wonder why we dance and why we fall? 
> 
> Tell me darlin', do you wonder these at all? 
> 
> Like a child who can't wait to go and play 
> 
> I am waiting for love to come my way 
> 
> Can we make this new love fit like an old shoe? 
> 
> Tell me darlin' please, tell me true." 
> 
> ~ Sarah Jarosz, "Tell Me True."

Chapter 66: December 25, 1995, London

When I woke up on Christmas, the only companion in my bed was Blue – Neville was nowhere to be found. I stretched groggily, looking around in confusion. Blue perked her head up and chirped at me.

“Listen, you,” I smirked, but I was trying to scold her. Blue had taken to crawling into our bed ever since the first night I had let her sleep there, “You’re _supposed to sleep on the floor_ ,” I pointed at the blankets in the corner.

Blue chirped again with what I swore was a fake-innocent look on her face. I rolled my eyes heavily. I didn’t really care, now that Blue had proven she could sleep in the bed without accidentally goring us to death. She was basically a weird, feathery, extra-smart, extra-deadly puppy. If she was loyal to you, she wouldn’t bite, but otherwise you were screwed. I got up and made my way downstairs, yawning slightly and rubbing my eyes as Blue followed me.

Dad, who preferred to have gift-giving be a family event, rather than one spent on our beds, had put all the presents around the tree in Sirius’ living room. I looked around for Neville, still unable to see him. Sirius had loved having us here, clearly having been bored all by himself in the house. Lupin was there, too, and the two of them were talking quietly, sitting close together on the couch. Elena was talking to Dad amiably, beaming and laughing happily. Hermione was sipping her tea and she beamed at me as I came downstairs.

“Merry Christmas!” she greeted with a large smile.

“Happy Chanukah – that’s still happening, right?” I yawned.

“Yes, today is the last day, thank you Maggie,” Hermione laughed.

“Where’s Neville?” I asked, frowning. Hermione frowned in response.

“His Gran and him left this morning. Apparently they have a Christmas tradition that they wanted to do before the feast your dad planned tonight,” Hermione paused, “She sort of yelled at him for avoiding coming home for it every Christmas since he’s started Hogwarts.”

“Did they say what it was?” I questioned, sitting down across from her at the table. Blue hopped into one of the chairs, eagerly grabbing multiple strips of bacon from the plate on the table.

“No,” Hermione sighed, “I didn’t want to push it. Neville didn’t look happy.”

I frowned heavily. I didn’t like when he didn’t look happy.

“Couldn’t you just –“ Hermione began, for probably the one millionth time since I had told her how I felt about him.

“No,” I answered, like I always did. Hermione sighed again, and didn’t push it, having learned her lesson before.

“Where’s Harry?” I continued, though I knew the answer to that – who the fuck knew. Hermione sighed and stood up.

“I’m going to go find him. It’s a holiday, we should all be celebrating,” Hermione stated calmly, heading up the stairs. Blue by this point had eaten every strip of bacon, and was sitting back, looking pleased.

“Oh my god, I can’t take you anywhere,” I groaned loudly. Blue looked at me and chirped happily.

“That is still the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen,” Sirius commented, sitting down at the table, “Where’s the bacon?”

“You’re looking at it,” I rolled my eyes, nodding at Blue. Blue chirped again.

“She ate it all? _Again?_ ” Sirius groaned, “That’s the third day in a row –“

“What are you going to do, I mean she should be out in nature, ambushing helpless prey from the bushes, I’m a mean mum to keep her cooped up all the time,” I sighed.

“How long should she live for, anyway?” Dad asked, walking in and sitting down to breakfast himself.

“Well, ravens live for about 17 years, but _Velociraptors_ could have a different lifespan, and that shouldn’t be changed, it’s not connected to behavior or intelligence,” I paused, “She was only two years old as a raven, so hopefully, for a long while.”

“She’s still the cutest,” Elena insisted, coming over now, “Look at that face!”

I was scratching her again and her eyes did the curved-upward thing again.

“My couch does not agree,” Sirius muttered.

“It took one spell to fix it!” Elena laughed.

“It’s the principle of the thing – if we were muggles –“

“She wouldn’t exist,” I pointed out. Sirius frowned, making Elena burst into laughter.

Hermione came downstairs then, dragging Harry behind her. He, as usual, refused to meet our eyes. I sighed heavily, but Dad beamed brightly at everyone.

“Presents! Presents, and then we’ll get dressed and go to St. Mungo’s to say hi to Mum. Sirius, you’ll be okay here right?” Dad asked, frowning slightly.

“Yes,” Sirius rolled his eyes, “Someone has to make sure Blue doesn’t eat my house-elf.”

Kreacher, an unpleasant little being I avoided at all costs, was now avoiding most of the house, as Blue had marked him as an ‘easy meal’ at first sight and could not be persuaded by me to not eat him (it didn’t help that Kreacher refused to let me do the head-patting thing).

“Alright, everyone into the family room, come on, come on!” Dad urged. We all shuffled in, and began opening our presents. I got a good haul that year. Hermione gave me a book on geologic formations and advanced fossil hunting techniques, which was wonderful. Sirius and Lupin had pitched in together to get me an entire box of candies and things that looked expensive and were supposedly designed to help relax you and ease your mental state – presumably, for my PTSD, which I was thankful for. Shae had gotten me a book on being a Halfling, which I appreciated, but had to quickly hide before anyone saw it. Tonks had gotten me a bag of Berty Bott’s Every-Flavor Beans, while Harry had gotten me a year’s subscription to a steak supplier owned by a wizard, meaning every morning I’d have three raw stakes (preserved magically) delivered to me by owl post. The gift receipt made me laugh for ten minutes, which actually made Harry smile for a bit. Neville had gotten me a simple necklace – just a small rope with a dragon carved from apatite at the end that actually looked a bit like me. I blushed in embarrassment at it and hurriedly put it on; it was tasteful, and not too expensive, and so personalized for me that I knew there was no way I wouldn’t wear it every single day. Hagrid had given me fudge, which he actually appeared to have made quite well. My parents had given me a stack of books on paleontology, and Elena had gotten me another on cladistics. Dobby had sent me a hat that he appeared to have knitted himself; it was a beanie, and it was striped aqua, dark blue, and fuchsia, with a little aqua bobble on the top. Sam, Luna, Claire, Fred, George (sadly) and Ginny had all sent me over a year’s worth of Cauldron Cakes, which was fantastic, as I loved those. McGonagall had gotten me a transfiguration notebook, specifically designed for keeping track of complex diagrams and theories.

“Thank you for the book,” Hermione beamed at me.

“When do I ever get you anything else?” I rolled my eyes, “You like it?”

“Of course! Complex Arithmancy – linear algebra and third level calculus – this will take me forever to learn but will put me at _such_ an advantage – thank you,” she smiled.

“Yeah, well, thanks for the book too,” I grinned. At this point it was essentially tradition.

“Thanks for the broom polishing kit, Maggie,” Harry murmured softly from the corner.

“Yeah,” I responded, looking at him in worry. Hermione frowned at me and leaned to whisper in my ear, “ _I’ll try talking to him today, okay?_ ”

I nodded, staring at the pile of gifts in my lap.

Christmas lunch was delicious, and Lupin offered to stay behind with Sirius to keep him company.

“Also, Blue likes me better than him,” Lupin grinned cheekily. Sirius muttered mutinously as Blue walked up to Lupin and started nuzzling his leg.

“Well alright then, kids, let’s go say hi to Mum,” Dad urged, beaming at us. Hermione came too, and we all went out into London, getting on the tube and going down to St. Mungo’s again. It was lightly snowing outside, always a nice miracle for London; I was wearing my new beanie, my puffy coat, and a scarf. The beanie didn’t fit my head when I was wearing my ponytail, so my hair was down, which wasn’t a usual phenomenon. I had gotten it cut recently (solidarity with Neville) so it thankfully only went down to my shoulder blades. I felt so distinctly different from my usual punk self in all this bright clothing and not-ripped jeans that I was scowling the whole tube ride. Elena giggled at my facial expression happily.

“I have a rep to protect,” I muttered irritably.

“You have skin to protect, that leather jacket isn’t warm enough,” Dad commented idly, flipping through the _Daily Prophet_. Hermione snorted and I stuck my tongue out at her as we reached the station in question and got out, walking to the hospital. There was a small trickle of wixen walking up to the glass window, striding casually to the window so as not to appear suspicious.

The reception area today was festive; the crystal orbs that served as lighting were red and gold so they were now huge glowing Christmas baubles; there was holly everywhere, and there were white Christmas trees covered in magical snow and icicles in every corner. It was less crowded than it had been the week before, which was odd; hospitals were typically _more_ crowded during holidays.

We went up to Mum’s bed and she beamed around at all of us, giving each of us hugs.

“How are you feeling?” Dad asked, sitting immediately by her bed.

“Well, I’ve been rather stressed thin,” Mum paused, “There’s been nothing to read, so I’ve actually been reading the _Prophet_ , rather than just sort of skimming important articles as per usual. And that piece that came out yesterday about relations with Saudi Arabia going south just drove me _mental_. I had spent my whole career working to keep our relations with that country peaceful, whoever they got to replace me only took six months to screw it all up –“

“We decided you weren’t going to read the papers anymore, Melinda,” Dad frowned, “It’s bad for your health –“

“I don’t care about my health –“

“Said the woman sitting in a hospital,” Elena muttered softly, sending Hermione and me into fits of giggles.

“ – I care about our relations being good with one of our biggest trading partners in light of upcoming potential economic upheavals!”

“Melinda, you’re going to rip open your wounds again, you’re being ridiculous,” Dad shook his head.

“My whole career, I built a stable relationship with the Saudis, and my replacement just goes and – what did they even do? Did they insult their culture? Not even try to speak Arabic? I swear to Merlin –“

“Melinda _please_ ,” Dad groaned.

“I want a cup of tea,” Elena decided.

“Me too,” Hermione agreed firmly.

“Yeah,” I nodded.

“Erm… alright,” Harry shrugged. We all walked out into the hallway, heading back up the stairs. There were portraits of Healers all along the walls, and they all were calling out to us, diagnosing odd things and suggesting terrible sounding remedies.

We stepped onto the landing of the fourth floor and were about to continue on when I was utterly and completely shocked. There was a small window in the doors for the corridor marked SPELL DAMAGE, and a man was peering out through it at us all, his nose pressed against the glass. He had wavy blonde hair, bright blue eyes, and a broad vacant smile that revealed dazzlingly white teeth.

“What the fuck?!” I shouted in shock.

“It’s – it’s _Lockhart_ ,” Hermione gasped, looking alarmed.

Lockhart opened the doors and moved towards us, wearing a lilac dressing gown.

“Well, hello there!” he beamed, “I expect you’d like my autograph, would you?”

“Oh, my god,” I groaned loudly.

“How… how are you?” Harry asked tentatively, grimacing slightly.

“I’m very well indeed, thank you!” Lockhart beamed, pulling a rather battered peacock-feather quill from his pocket, “Now, how many autographs would you like? I can do joined-up writing now, you know!”

“Erm… we don’t want any at the moment, thanks,” I stammered, “Should you… er… be wandering around in the corridors? Shouldn’t you be in a ward?”

Lockhart frowned at me, “Haven’t we met?”

“Erm… yeah,” I grimaced.

“You used to teach us at Hogwarts,” Hermione offered, her mouth in a thin, McGonagall-reminiscent line.

“Teach?” Lockhart repeated, “Me? Did I?”

Then he smiled wider and beamed at us in an alarming way, “Taught you everything you know, I expect, did I? Well, how about those autographs, then? Shall we say a round dozen, you can give them to all your little friends and then nobody will be left out!”

A head poked out of a door at the end of the corridor and a voice said, “Gilderoy, you naughty boy, where have you wandered off to?”

A female healer walked up to us, decorated in Christmassy apparel, and beaming brightly.

“Oh Gilderoy, you’ve got visitors! How _lovely_ , and on Christmas Day, too! Do you know, he _never_ gets visitors, poor lamb, and I can’t think why, he’s such a sweetie, aren’t you?”

“We’re doing autographs!” Gilderoy told the Healer, smiling widely, “They want loads of them, won’t take no for an answer! I just hope we’ve got enough photographs!”

“Listen to him,” the Healer beamed, taking Lockhart’s arm and leading him back towards the ward, us following nervously, “He was rather well known a few years ago; we very much hope that this liking for giving autographs is a sign that his memory might be coming back a little bit. Will you step this way? He’s in a closed ward, you know, he must have slipped out while I was bringing in the Christmas presents, the door’s usually kept locked… not that he’s dangerous! But,” she lowered her voice to a whisper, “bit of a danger to himself, bless him… Doesn’t know who he is, you see, wanders off and can’t remember how to get back… It _is_ nice of you to come and see him…”

I looked at the others in bemusement, who looked back at me with identical expressions as we went up to the door of the ward. The healer pointed her wand at the Janus Thickey ward and muttered, “ _Alohomora_.” The door swung open and she led the way inside, holding tightly to Gilderoy’s arm until she had settled him into an armchair beside his bed.

“This is our long-term resident ward,” she explained calmly, “For permanent spell damage, you know. Of course, with intensive remedial potions and charms and a bit of luck, we can produce some improvement… Gilderoy does seem to be getting back some sense of himself, and we’ve seen a real improvement in Mr. Bode, he seems to be regaining the power of speech very well, though he isn’t speaking any language we recognize yet… Well, I must finish giving out the Christmas presents, I’ll leave you all to chat…”

I looked around in fascination; this definitely looked like a permanent home to residents. There were many personal effects around their beds. Gilderoy had grabbed a stack of photographs and seized a quill. He was signing feverishly and gave the stack to Elena, who looked positively furious at the development at hand.

“You can put them in the envelopes!” Lockhart beamed, “I am not forgotten, you know, no, I still receive a very great deal of fan mail… Gladys Gudgeon writes _weekly_ … I just wish I knew _why…_ ” he paused, looking confused, then smiled again and continued signing, “I suspect it is simply my good looks…”

I was much too distracted by all the people in there. There was a sallow-skinned, mournful looking wizard in the opposite bed, staring at the ceiling an mumbling to himself. Two beds away there was a woman whose head was covered in fur. At the far end of the ward flowery curtains had been drawn around two beds to give the occupants and their visitors some privacy.

“Here you are, Agnes,” the Healer smiled at the furry woman, handing her a small pile of presents, “See, not forgotten, are you? And your son’s sent an owl to say he’s visiting tonight, so that’s nice, isn’t it?”

Agnes barked loudly.

“And look, Broderick, you’ve been sent a potted plant and a lovely calendar with a different fancy hippogriff for each month, they’ll brighten thing sup, won’t they?” the Healer beamed at the mumbling man, giving him an ugly plant with long, swaying tentacles – it looked vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t place it – and fixing a calendar to the wall. “And – oh, Mrs. Longbottom, are you leaving already?”

I looked around in complete and utter shock. Neville’s Gran was walking down the aisle of the ward; the curtains had been drawn back from the end of the ward. Behind her, looking more depressed than I had ever seen him, his hands stuffed in his pockets, and his face looking at the floor, was Neville.

“Ne… Neville?” I whispered. Hermione was looking in shock, Elena was peering from her seat, and Harry looked distressed, more distressed than ever.

“Ah, yes, hello everyone,” Augusta smiled, “We were just on our way back to Headquarters –“

“What are you doing here?” Elena asked, frowning, clearly annoyed that she was trapped helping Lockhart stuff envelopes.

Augusta frowned, “Neville, you told me you’d told your friends where you’d gone today.”

Neville, who was taller than his grandmother by a few inches, looked awkwardly crouched behind her, as though he was trying to hide. He muttered something I couldn’t make out and I felt something inside me break t the sight of him so distraught.

“Neville, not only have you _lied_ to me, but you haven’t told your friends about your parents, Neville?” Augusta gasped, looking furious.

Neville looked up at the ceiling, taking a deep breath, and shook his head. My heart was breaking now even more for him.

“Erm… we can… we can go,” I whispered, “We weren’t – if Neville doesn’t want to –“

“There is nothing for Neville to be ashamed of!” Augusta insisted, “You should be _proud_ , Neville, _proud!_ They didn’t give their health and their sanity so their only son would be ashamed of them, you know!”

“I’m not ashamed,” Neville muttered, and I could see tears forming in his eyes. I wanted to run out and hold him – kiss him – _anything_ – to make him stop looking like that, to make him not upset.

“Well, you’ve got a funny way of showing it, honestly!” Augusta snapped, turning back to us, “My son and his wife,” she paused, puffing out her chest, “Were tortured into insanity by You-Know-Who’s followers.”

Tears came into my eyes, heavily filling them and spilling over; I was paralyzed with grief and unable to move. Hermione clapped her hand over her mouth and Elena looked sick. Harry, however, was grimacing – did he already know?

“They were Aurors, you know, and very well respected within the Wizarding community – members of the Order, you know, prominent ones, I was so proud – highly gifted, the pair of them, just like you all, of course, we were _so_ worried Neville wouldn’t inherit his parents’ talent when he was a child, but he’s really blossomed in Hogwarts. I – yes, Alice, dear, what is it?”

Neville’s mother – I could only assume – had come edging down the ward in her nightdress. Her face was worn and thin, her eyes were overlarge, and her white hair was wispy and dead looking, short on the top of her head. She had pale skin, and her face even seemed like it had been round once – if it had been, it would have been nearly identical to Neville’s. She didn’t seem able to speak. She moved timidly towards Neville, holding something in her hand.

“Again?” August asked sadly, “Very well, Alice dear, very well – Neville, take it, whatever it is…”

Neville had already stretched out his hand, into which his mum dropped an empty Drooble’s Blowing Gum wrapper.

“Very nice, dear,” Augusta said, clearly humoring her. Neville had muttered, “Thanks Mum.”

His mum went back up the ward, humming softly. Neville couldn’t meet any of our eyes.

“Well… Neville, if you’d like to stay with your friends, I have some errands I’d like to run before going back to headquarters,” Augusta suggested. Neville shrugged, still staring at his feet. He slipped the gum wrapper into his pocket. Augusta frowned, but left, hustling out of the ward. Neville was still staring at his shoes.

“Neville… I’m so sorry… we didn’t know, none of us did,” Hermione whispered.

“I knew,” Harry admitted in a mutter. I looked at him in shock, feeling furious that he hadn’t told me.

“Erm… Dumbledore told me last year but he made me promise I wouldn’t mention it,” Harry explained. Neville looked up and at him with a grateful expression.

“Neville, we don’t find this funny at all, you realize, yeah?” Elena asked, standing up and looking at him earnestly, “There’s nothing funny about this.”

Neville shrugged, still crying heavily and silently, looking down at his shoes.

“Let’s… erm…” Hermione looked at a loss for words. I was still crying myself, and had no idea what to say to him right now.

“Guys, let’s go,” Harry whispered softly, “We’ll see you back at the house,” he started to leave, Elena and Hermione following him. I made a move to follow, but Harry looked at me and shook his had. I nodded, swallowing heavily, and turned back to Neville.

I opened my mouth to speak; the air only came in part way due to the sob that wracked my body. I looked at Neville again and swallowed. He still wasn’t looking up. I finally managed to make myself move forward and I pulled him into a hug, tightly pressed against me, sobbing into his shoulder. He sobbed into mine, and we must have stood there like that for ages before I was decidedly all cried out.

“Neville,” I finally choked out, wiping off my eyes. He looked up at me, his face red and blotchy.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I mumbled, looking at him desperately. He shrugged wordlessly. I grabbed his hand, pulling him out of the closed ward and into the corridor, looking at him again more earnestly.

“I… guess…” he hesitated, looking at me through his red and puffy eyes, “I… at first… I…”

“Let’s walk,” I offered, sniffling slightly, “Let’s go out into London, for old times, right? It’ll be out of this building, we can just walk along the streets and t-talk.”

Neville nodded. We were both wearing hobo gloves (made holding wands easier,) so we could easily lace our fingers together as I continued to hold his hand. My heart pounded loudly in my chest as we walked down and out of the hospital and into the street, slowly making our way down the sidewalk. It was lucky it was deserted; no one was around to be annoyed we weren’t moving at the usual London bustle. Our feet crunched in the light layer of snow, and Neville was still sniffling, looking up at the sky determinedly.

“I… I don’t think I told you… at first,” Neville paused, “B-because… because I thought you’d find it funny…”

“Of course I wouldn’t –“ I answered immediately.

“I know you wouldn’t… I mean like… when we f-first met,” Neville paused, “After that… it’s s-so hard… for me to talk about…”

“I understand, completely,” I reassured calmly. We were making our way down a small hill; the snow seemed to be picking up in intensity.

“I just… there never seemed… to be a good time,” Neville paused, “When… when do you… when d’you _tell_ someone something like th-that?”

“After the lesson on Unforgivable Curses last year would have been a good moment,” I offered, but my expression was kind. Neville looked up and frowned slightly.

“I was… I was not r-ready… I t-tried… but I couldn’t… get the words out,” Neville whispered.

“Do you just… not like to think about it?” I asked softly. Neville nodded rapidly, looking at me desperately.

“I am… angry… and afraid… and upset…” he paused, tears coming out of his eyes even faster now. I squeezed his hand as tightly as I could, rubbing my thumb against his fingers.

“I am angry, because they took away my parents,” Neville sniffled, “I am afraid, because they could come after me. I am upset, because my whole childhood, I thought I wasn’t good enough…”

I couldn’t hear that without breaking inside; I threw my arms around his shoulders and hugged him so tightly I might have accidentally hurt him. If I had, he didn’t say anything. He simply hugged me back tightly, sobbing into my shoulder again.

“I guess… at some point,” Neville paused, sniffling slightly, “I was so… used to b-bottling it up… and n-never talking about it… it was hard to start.”

“Did you… think about telling me in the summer?” I asked very softly. Neville looked at me for a long moment.

“I did,” he paused, “But… I wanted you to focus on recovering… and then… when we went back to Hogwarts, Umbridge was around, and I… I didn’t know how t-tell you when we had s-so much to worry about…”

I nodded, understanding completely. While there were moments that maybe he could have slipped it in, you never knew when that bitch would come and take away your peace, and ruin your sense of safety.

“So… can you tell me the whole story?” I asked softly, “Please.”

Neville stared at me for a long time, the snow falling lightly around our heads.

“I wouldn’t… ask, except… I told you mine,” I whispered. Neville nodded; this seemed to give him a fierce resolve. His eyes flashed and we walked down the street a little more, going to a bench and sitting on it.

“When… I was a baby,” Neville paused, staring out to the street in front of us, “My parents… were huge members of the Order. They actually faced V-Voldemort three times… and got away three times.”

“Wow,” I whispered softly.

“Yeah,” Neville paused, “This made them t-targets. So they went into h-hiding. They were friends with your parents, Maggie, and Harry’s parents, and Sirius and Lupin, I th-think. That generation. They were in the y-year above Sirius and Lupin, in Gryffindor.”

“Makes sense,” I nodded.

“W-well… when Harry defeated Voldemort, they thought they were safe. Everyone did. So they came out of hiding, removed the secret from the flat and everything. But they were big in the resistance movement, you know,” Neville sniffled, “So…”

“So…” I repeated softly.

“So, a group of Death Eaters, lead by Bellatrix Lestrange…”

“Sirius’ cousin?” I asked, frowning. Neville nodded, sniffling harder.

“Lead by her, and including Barty Crouch Junior… attacked my parents,” Neville sniffled, “They were convinced that they knew where Voldemort was. They put them… under the cruciatus curse… so long that they went insane.”

I looked at Neville in horror, my heart breaking even more. Everything made sense, now.

“They attacked them in our apartment, late at night. They must have gotten out of bed and met them in the kitchen… I was asleep, but I woke up when they screamed. I still remember the screaming when the Dementors are around,” Neville whispered softly.

“Oh my god,” I choked out.

“They didn’t care about me, so they left, but the neighbors had heard and gotten their description. So they didn’t get away with it at least,” Neville mumbled softly, “And then Gran took me in.”

“Neville…” I whispered softly.

“We visit them often,” Neville continued as though I hadn’t spoken, “When I was a child, every Christmas, and on their birthdays and mine. But since I came to Hogwarts and started spending time with you guys… it’s more just a few visits every time I come home.”

“I’m sorry, Neville, we shouldn’t have pushed you into staying –“

“Are you kidding?” Neville managed to choke out a laugh, “I was grateful to not have to go. Every time I go I just get depressed. My dad can talk, but he doesn’t know anything that’s happening around him, and he barely moves. My mum still seems to have some awareness… but she can’t talk.”

“Oh Nev,” I whimpered softly. Neville looked at me for a long time.

“I also don’t particularly… like the idea of being pitied,” he mumbled very softly.

“I’m not pitying you,” I whispered earnestly. He looked briefly skeptical.

“I’m _not_ ,” I insisted, “I’m… heartbroken for you…”

Neville swallowed, looking down at our still intertwined hands.

“I… I don’t want anything bad to happen to you, you know that,” I continued softly, “And I can’t… I can’t do anything to help you… to fix this… and I desperately wish I could.”

Neville looked at me again. We watched each other for a long time, the snow falling around our heads. He stood up from the bench, walking out to the middle of the deserted street. I refused to let go of his hand, so I followed him.

“But you _have_ helped me, Mags,” he murmured very quietly, turning to look at me, “You… if it weren’t for you… who would I be? I’d be some… quiet child… sitting in the backs of classrooms… not sticking up for myself… not doing what’s right with you and Harry and Hermione… not _fighting_ for something… not continuing the work of my parents…”

“You would be,” I insisted quietly.

“Would I? Maybe this year, if the D.A. still happened, and Harry encouraged me to do better,” Neville paused, “But the only person who really did that in my life before the D.A. was you. And Hermione and Harry, but only after you started it.”

I looked at him for a long time. He was right, of course, but it broke my heart to think that without me he would be so lonely. I threw my arms around his neck tightly, burying my face in his shoulder. He wrapped his arms around my waist, holding onto me tightly, his face resting against the side of my head.

“You’ll never be alone, as long as I’m alive,” I whispered very quietly into his ear. He pulled back from the hug, looking at me desperately.

“I won’t?” he murmured softly.

“You won’t,” I insisted. Our noses were touching, and my arms were still around his neck, and his were still around my waist.

“You won’t either,” he whispered so quietly I could barely hear it.

“I won’t?” I repeated, swallowing heavily.

“You won’t,” he nodded. We looked at each other for a long time. The snow was falling gently around us. I could feel it getting caught in my hair. My heart was pounding loudly in my chest as I stared into his eyes. They were so warm, and brown, and I couldn’t dare to look away.

“Neville…” I whispered softly. Neville looked at me for another minute.

“Can I…” Neville’s words trailed off into the air.

“Yes,” I whispered back, my heart now in my throat. Neville looked at me, briefly shocked at the urgency of my response. We watched each other for another, brief minute, before he leaned in and pressed his lips to mine.

It was freezing outside, but warmth spread from my lips to every corner of my body, to the tips of my fingers and the tips of my toes. They were so soft, and smooth, and I immediately pulled myself closer to him by my arms, capturing more of his lips with mine. He made a small sound, and I wrapped my arms now around his shoulders, as he wrapped his all the away around my waist to hold me tightly. I briefly parted my lips and sighed into his, making him shiver with what I was pretty sure wasn’t cold. I didn’t want it to stop, so I stayed there for probably a little too long, before we both started pulling back at once.

His face was flushed madly, but his eyes were shining joyfully. I felt a smile break out over my entire face. He smiled back at me and I immediately leaned in and kissed him again, a little more fiercely this time, pressing my entire body into the entirety of his. He sighed heavily against my lips and parted his as well, and we kissed slowly for a few minutes, right there in the middle of the street, the snow falling gently around us still. When we pulled back this time, my heart was so loud in my chest I felt like he could hear it.

“I love you,” he whispered softly. The words made me want to die right then and there – I could never be happier than I was in this moment, and I wanted the last thing I knew to be this amount of joy.

“I love you,” I responded, looking at him blissfully. His eyes immediately filled with tears as he pressed his forehead happily against mine.

“You do?” he mumbled, the tip of his nose touching the tip of mine.

“Of course I do,” I laughed weakly, “How could I not?”

Neville shrugged, but he was still crying, and I pulled him in for another long, drawn-out kiss. It suddenly occurred to me that we were in the middle of the street. I grabbed him and pulled him back to the bench and we sat down. He wrapped an arm around my shoulder and I sat sideways to face him, him doing the same, my free arm wrapped around his shoulder and his free arm still around my waist.

“How… how long have you…” Neville mumbled. I shrugged, smiling weakly at him.

“I dunno… that’s a complicated question,” I laughed.

“Try me,” Neville gave me a large, watery smile.

“I… You first,” I begged, reaching out to stroke his cheek. He sighed into my hand, pressing his face closer to it, before nodded.

“Okay… erm… I guess… I _dunno_ , Mags,” he laughed weakly, and I giggled softly.

“When… we were first years… I didn’t know what love was, did I? I was eleven,” Neville paused, “But since I realized, I’ve suspected it’s been since the moment I saw you. Now, love at first sight doesn’t exist… but there’s always been… something… pulling me to you… so… that…” he flushed with embarrassment. I smiled at him, tears forming in my eyes.

“I guess I realized it… when you and I talked first year, after I had gone off and not talked to you lot for ages,” Neville sniffled, “When you told me I was brave.”

I looked at him for a long moment, “How did you realize it?”

“I knew… I knew hearing that from you… honestly, I believed you. I never believed anyone who told me I was brave. Not the Sorting Hat, not Gran, not any of my relatives, no one. But when you said it… I believed you,” Neville sniffled softly.

I smiled at him weakly, “You _are_ brave.”

“You’re doing it again,” Neville laughed, and I giggled slightly.

“Erm… but I was eleven, and I was just like, _what_ , so I ignored it… then, second year…”

“You sent me the Valentine, I figured it out… last year,” I admitted sheepishly. Neville blushed furiously.

“I basically thought… how the hell do I even break this with Maggie, how does one _bring up_ that sort of thing…” Neville laughed softly, “That backfired…”

“I’m so sorry I was such a prat –“

“It’s okay… I was weird,” Neville shrugged, “I just… I realized it because… it was like you were a part of me. It wasn’t just some fancy. It’s deeper than that… it’s a part of who I _am_ , like, I’m good a herbology, I’m agender, I’m Harry Potter’s best mate, I fight Voldemort, I’m practically Hermione’s sibling…. You’re… you’re my… my…”

“Soulmate,” I whispered very softly. He nodded, happy that I said it, and it wasn’t creepy for him to.

“Soulmate,” he nodded, “Yeah… just… the way I feel about you… it fills me from my head to my toes… and I couldn’t not think about it, every single day, but in that sort of way you think about parts of your body, you only notice it when you’re forced to… so when you forced me to realize that you made me believe in myself… I figured it out… and then I just… I didn’t know how to tell you…”

I let out a small, choked laugh, burying my face in his shoulder.

“Erm… so then third year… when you liked that _prick_ … I just… all I wanted was for you to be happy. A weird, stupid part of me was jealous… but soon enough I just… ignored it… and I mean, I wasn’t incapable of being attracted to someone… so I liked Ginny well enough, and I went out with her, but I… when you feel about someone the way I feel about you…”

“No one else could even begin to match that,” I whispered. He nodded.

“So… what about you?” he asked softly. I looked at him for a long time.

“I suspect I fell for you around the same time you fell for me,” I murmured.

“You just took longer to realize it,” Neville acknowledged, “Makes sense. I often wondered why you’d _act_ like you loved me and then… didn’t do anything about it.”

“Sorry about that,” I acknowledged, “But I… I _realized_ … at the…”

“What?” Neville asked, frowning slightly.

“At the… Yule Ball…” I muttered sheepishly.

“You’re… you’re joshing me,” Neville said.

“Not even a little bit.”

“The _Yule Ball? A **year ago**_?” he asked, shocked.

“Yup,” I nodded, feeling embarrassed.

“What… why didn’t you… did… what…” Neville was speechless.

 “When you said you’d fancied someone for ages,” I mumbled, “And when you said that if I got hurt, you got hurt… and the way you looked at me when you said it…”

Neville laughed weakly, “I was so used to you _not_ picking up on my hints that I just didn’t even stop myself…”

“It worked,” I smiled weakly.

“But then… why did you…”

“I was in a relationship,” I sighed, “To my more innocent self, that meant something, regardless of how much more deeply I loved you than I did that jerk. I was committed to him, and I had put in work into the relationship, and we had been together a long time… I wasn’t ready to just throw that away…”

Neville nodded, a look of complete understanding on his face, “So when… all those times he accused you of…”

“I was lying my ass off,” I whispered softly.

Neville sighed heavily, “I mean, I figured you had feelings with me over the summer, but I just thought it was you falling for me because I was caring for you –“

“Nope,” I shook my head, “I was just finally letting myself express these feelings I had bottled up.”

Neville swallowed, staring at me for a long time.

“And… and doing that… made him…” I sniffled very loudly.

“ _No_ ,” Neville growled softly, “No. You were staying with him, weren’t you? Didn’t really matter how you felt about me, he should have trusted you. And nothing – nothing – made him entitled to sleep with you. You did _absolutely_ nothing wrong, and _none_ of what he did to you was your fault.”

I nodded, sniffling slightly. It was the same thing Hermione had said to me.

“I feel the same about you,” I whispered quietly.

“You – huh?” Neville asked, frowning.

“I mean… You are a part of me too. I love you so deeply… from my head to my toes… you are a portion of my identity. You are my soulmate,” I swallowed, “I just… things like that, constant things… I don’t _notice_ them… ever… they’re just there, and it takes something terrible, like – I dunno – getting doused in gallons of cold water…. For me to figure it out…”

“Well,” Neville laughed somewhat, “Glad to know we aren’t the same person.”

“Yeah,” I smiled slightly, “I’m sorry I’m an idiot.”

“It’s okay,” Neville leaned over and kissed me on the forehead, “I’m sorry I am too.”

“No you’re –“

“Nah, I am. I should have figured it out,” Neville shook his head in bemusement, “After the Yule Ball, you _did_ act different than usual, I just figured it was something else.”

“No,” I laughed softly.

“Well, then, we were both idiots, but now it’s all okay,” Neville murmured.

“Yes,” I agreed, nodding intently, “It is.”

He leaned in and we kissed again, for a long time, sitting on the bench and making up however many years we should have had of kisses before that point. I loved feeling his lips against mine. His beard and moustache were tickly, but his lips were so soft it was a major contrast. At some point, my lips opened fully and so did his, and his tongue – surprisingly, _surprisingly_ long – started exploring my mouth, and I couldn’t help it, I moaned, and he kissed me more rapidly, pulling me as close to him as he could. My tongue wrapped around his, and he held me tightly and lovingly, and I honestly felt like I was floating away with joy.

I pulled back, gasping for air, and he looked at me lovingly.

“I love you,” I whispered.

“I love you,” he smiled. We kissed again – in fact, we ended up spending that entire afternoon kissing, not letting go of each other, despite how cold we were getting. When it was so dark and cold that I could no longer feel the tips of my fingers, we got up and walked down the street to a small café.

“Like the old days,” Neville laughed softly.

“The old days of… August,” I rolled my eyes. He grinned, though, and we went inside, eating fish and chips together.

“I think the thing I love the most about you,” Neville began, smiling softly at me, “is how angry you get.”

“You’re kidding,” I snorted, “That’s the thing I like _least_ about me.”

“No… it’s indicative of your passion,” Neville insisted calmly, biting into a chip I had had my eye on. I eagerly grabbed it back from him, eating the rest as he pouted at me.

“But you just get so… fierce… about everything you do. Your transfiguration. Your archery. Your mystery solving. The D.A.,” Neville paused, “I love seeing you talk about something you love, and getting all riled up. It’s when you’re… happiest.”

I smiled at him, my heart souring slightly in my chest.

“Well… what I love most about you,” I paused, “Is… I love how compassionate you get. I love how well you forgive everyone around you. You are the true definition of empathy, Neville. You are so gentle, and kind, and understanding, I know that you sincerely want the best for the people around you… and that’s wonderful.”

Neville smiled at me so wide that I worried he would break his perfect face.

“I love your laugh,” he murmured quietly.

“I love yours,” I answered, laughing, which made him smile wider.

Needless to say, that dinner conversation carried on in much the same vein – we were nauseatingly adorable in that café, and we stayed well into the night, not leaving until we were forced to. We walked out into the snow, both flushed with embarrassment and joy, and looked at each other.

“We better get back, huh?” Neville sighed. I nodded.

“Erm… so…” Neville paused, looking embarrassed, and running a hand through his hair.

“What?” I asked curiously.

“Are we… erm… what are we?” he stammered.

That was an exceptionally good question.

“Well I mean… I’d say we were girlfriend and… er… um…” I frowned, flushing slightly.

“We could be… erm… significant others?” Neville frowned.

“Makes us sound like we’re in our late twenties and don’t believe in the concept of marriage,” I giggled softly.

“Uh… yeah,” he snorted in agreement, “Erm… partner?”

“A lesbian couple, mid-thirties, with seven dogs.”

He giggled loudly, his cheeks round and happy as he did so.

“Lovers?”

I blushed completely furiously, “We… erm… that…”

“No, you’re right,” he answered immediately, also looking embarrassed.

“Well okay, I’m your girlfriend, and you’re my gender neutral equivalent of that term?” I asked, looking at him joyfully.

“It doesn’t seem strong enough a word… but I guess soulmate isn’t an official relationship term… so… yes,” he laughed softly.

“Gotta work with what we have,” I smiled.

“You’re my Maggie,” he shrugged, smiling slightly, “That’s the only term I really need.”

“And you’re my Neville,” I agreed softly, leaning up and kissing him again. I had never felt happier in my entire life.

“Well… we should go back,” Neville sighed, “They’re probably worried about us.”

“Honestly, Hermione probably figured what happened, and told everyone we were on a date,” I flushed in embarrassment.

“She hates us right now,” Neville grinned slightly.

“We were both idiots,” I rolled my eyes, “Let’s go.”

We caught the last tube of the evening and headed back to Headquarters, creeping inside slowly. It was extremely late, and we didn’t want to wake anyone up. We both crept up the stairs and into our room, and now my heart was pounding loudly at the thought that we shared a bed.

“Erm…” Neville looked at me nervously, “Nothing should be different, right?”

I nodded rapidly, “No, no, we shouldn’t move too fast.”

“Good,” Neville sighed, “Not that I don’t – not that I don’t _want_ to… I just… I just want to enjoy each part of our relationship… each new thing… and not rush any of it.”

“I agree,” I smiled, “I want to enjoy every new experience with you.”

Neville beamed wider and kissed me again, making me sigh happily into his mouth. He then went and changed in another room while I changed there, waiting for him to come back with my heart pounding still in my chest. He strode up to me and pulled me in for another long kiss, and I honestly felt like I could spend the entire night kissing him, but I knew sleep was an important part of life. We both climbed into the bed – Blue was already asleep in the corner, her body moving with her breathing – and we faced each other, looking at each other for a long time.

“I…” Neville looked at me for a minute.

“Yeah?” I whispered softly.

“I promise,” Neville paused, “That I will be with you… and I will do anything for you… for the rest of our lives…”

“I promise, too,” I nodded, swallowing heavily and leaning in to kiss him.

“But also…,” Neville paused, “I promise to protect you – I know you don’t need it – but I’m going to watch out for you, during this war, because if I lose you –“ his voice choked on the word and I leaned to kiss him again, reassuringly.

“I promise to protect you too, not that you need it, but I’m going to watch out for you during the war, because I can’t lose you either,” I nodded reassuringly.

Neville smiled at me, and we kissed for a long time. I finally pulled back and nestled into his arms, resting my head next to his.

“I love you, Maggie,” he murmured softly.

“I love you, Neville,” I responded joyfully, reaching up to stroke his hair.

We continued to stare at each other until, finally, we both fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WE DID IT  
> ITS THE CHAPTER  
> THAT I ENVISIONED (I WROTE ANOTHER HARRY POTTER STORY WITH AN EARLIER, WORSE VERSION OF MAGGIE ON FFNET. ITS VERY BAD. I WROTE IT IN HIGH SCHOOL.)  
> WHEN I STARTED THIS STORY.  
> THE SCENE THAT INSPIRED THIS DAMN THING.  
> WE DID IT.  
> HOORRAAAAY!  
> PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE COMMENT AND CELEBRATE WITH ME!!!!!  
> (Yes, the chapter summary is their song.)


	68. Chapter Sixty - Seven: December 26 - January 10, 1995 - 1996, London

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I want trees instead of gravestones 
> 
> Nothing to confess 
> 
> I've got a soft spot for your ancient books of horror stories 
> 
> I got a music in my ears from 
> 
> Long long ago and far far away 
> 
> And I still hum its tune 
> 
> How could I ver believe every word it says to me? 
> 
> We follow our own steps 
> 
> While our shadows keep watching us 
> 
> Our own steps 
> 
> While our shadows keep watching us." 
> 
> ~ Squalloscope, "Big Houses".

Chapter 67: December 26 – January 10, 1995 – 1996, London

I woke up the next morning to the sensation of lips trailing along the side of my head. I sighed happily, opening my eyes to see Neville with his lips pressed to my forehead, smiling widely at the sight.

“Morning,” he murmured very quietly.

“Morning,” I grinned, looking up at him and immediately pulling him towards me for a long kiss, burying my fingers in his hair. Neville sighed softly into the kiss and pulled me into his arms, holding me tightly and refusing to let go of me. I laughed and rested my head on his chest, closing my eyes slightly.

“How are you?” he asked. His voice sounded nervous.

“Fantastic,” I answered earnestly, looking up at him and kissing him again, “You?”

“Same,” he looked absolutely dazed, “I can’t believe that happened yesterday…”

“Well, it did,” I whispered soflty, looking at him urgently, “I love you.”

He immediately put his hands in my hair and pulled my face towards his again, kissing me extensively. I wrappd my arms tightly around his waist and we continued to kiss for ages, the two of us lying on our sides on the bed while we did so.

A loud series of knocks issued on the door; I jumped in shock, which startled Blue, who scurried from the bed and ran off to a corner of the room.

“Erm,” I managed to force out, “Who is it?”

“Its Hermione – it’s getting pretty late – are you guys okay?” she asked through the door.

“Er, yes!” I answered, quickly sitting up. Neville followed suit and I walked to the door, opening it slightly.

“So?” she asked, forcing her way into the room and closing the door behind her.

“So…?” Neville frowned, smirking at her. I blushed madly and looked down at my feet in embarrassment.

“So? Where were two yesterday?” Hermione demanded, crossing her arms in front of her chest and staring at us both. I flushed even more and looked over at Neville, who was still grinning.

“We went for a walk, and then we ate at a café, and then we came home,” he shrugged, still smiling.

“Do we really have to do this?” Hermione groaned.

“Yes,” Neville laughed. I bit my lip to hide my own giggles.

“What did you _do_ while you walked and went to a café?” Hermione harrumphed, looking at us in annoyance. I beamed wider.

“Oh come _on_ you guys!” she sighed, stamping her foot on the floor.

“Oh fine,” Neville grinned.

“Yeah, we stopped acting like idiots,” I smiled, walking over to Neville. He wrapped his arms around my shoulders and I wrapped mine around his waist.

“ _Finally!_ ” Hermione groaned, rolling her eyes and glaring at us, “Do you realize how annoying you two have been for ages now?”

I chuckled, smirking at her.

“Now you two can stop being ridiculous and actually act like normal human beings – _honestly –_ so then you talked, finally?” she sighed.

“Yes,” Neville nodded.

“Please tell me you are a couple –“

“Yes, Hermione, we are,” I rolled my eyes.

“Good,” she snorted, “Now that nonsense is over, you both can focus on more important things. Like, for example, Harry.”

“How’s he doing?” I asked, frowning.

“Not good. I tried to get him to talk yesterday but he wouldn’t open up,” Hermione paused, “I don’t know whether to keep trying to get him to talk while alone, or to try and get you both to help me –“

“I think you should keep trying to talk to him alone,” I sighed, sitting down at the foot of the bed, “I mean, don’t get me wrong, Hermione, I want to help – but he has been avoiding me more than either rof you the entirety of the Holiday. And I mean, I can leave, but what would I do the whole time? And…”

“You want to spend the day with Neville,” Hermione rolled her eyes, “I get it. It’s completely understandable when you both have been such huge idiots for so long.”

“Oi!” Neville shouted.

“You heard me. You guys enjoy yourselves. Just, promise me,” Hermione frowned, looking at the room, “You aren’t… moving too… erm…”

“We’re going very slowly, Hermione,” I rolled my eyes.

“Oh good. Not that it would have been bad if you hadn’t, I just – erm – I don’t feel like being Aunt Hermione yet,” she muttered softly.

“Oh come on, we’d be careful!” Neville protested.

“Yes, well, this is war, and people are frequently stupid during war,” Hermione rolled her eyes, “You two are prime examples A and B.”

“Oi!” I shouted louder, glaring at her.

“Alright, I’ll leave you to whatever you’ll be doing today. I’m going to try and corner Harry,” Hermione rolled her eyes and left the room, closing the door behind her. My stomach growled loudly and I frowned.

“We should eat,” Neville smirked, “Come on.”

“I don’t _want_ to,” I insisted honestly, wrapping my arms around his neck. Neville rolled his eyes at me in amusement.

“Come on, Mags, you gotta eat –“ he began, but I cut him off by pulling his head towards mine and kissing him, running my fingers through his hair eagerly. He made a joyful sound into my mouth and I pulled him back onto the bed, kissing him as much as I possibly could. He was lying on top of me now, and it made my heart pound so loudly I could hear it, but it was a nice sort of pounding, and I enjoyed feeling his weight on top of me.

He broke away from me and looked at me, panting heavily. I grinned at him and he chuckled softly.

“Come on, Maggie, we – mmph!” he shouted as I started kissing him again, eagerly running my hands down his back and wrapping them all the way around him. He made another sound that sort of made my fingers tingle, but in a good way, and his hands were now running through my hair, which was still down and kind of tangled.

I pulled back, still beaming at him, and he rolled his eyes at me.

“So you just want to spend the entire day eating my face, then?” he asked, pressing his forehead into mine and looking deeply into my eyes.

“Yes,” I responded honestly, nodding rapidly, Neville laughed and he looked so happy I couldn’t help but start kissing him again, now almost instinctually running my feet along his legs. He groaned again and I smiled into our kisses, pulling him as close to me as I possibly could. I then managed to roll him over onto his back, still kissing him. He broke away and looked up at me, his eyebrows raised in confusion. I smiled again and resumed kissing him, climbing on top of him and straddling his hips. He eagerly pulled me closer to him and kissed me even more urgently before breaking away hurriedly.

“Maggie,” he gasped, “We said we –“

“I’m just kissing you,” I responded innocently, beaming brightly at him. He rolled his eys, his cheeks flushed madly with what definitely was _not_ embarrassment.

“You are practically dry humping me!” he responded, smirking up at me. I shrugged and started kissing him again, and he now forcibly got up and picked me up, making me shriek with surprise.

“I must insist on getting dressed!” he laughed, putting me back down at the bed. I folded my arms in front of my chest and pouted at him.

“Nope, you can’t cute your way out of this, I’m going to shower,” he declared. I grinned at him and he rolled his eyes.

“ _No_ , you cannot follow me,” he kissed he top of my head and I laughed.

“I know, I know. I’m being –“ I began, but he cut me off.

“Adorable, now stop,” he laughed, “It’s impossible for you, but I might as well ask. I won’t be long.” He kissed me again and before I could deepen it he pulled away and went into the hallway. I sighed, but kicked my feet happily. Blue walked over to me, chirping at me madly.

“What?” I asked her, smirking at her. She chirped again, her feathers ruffled all over.

“Oh come on, Blue, you must hav seen this coming,” I soothed, “Come on.”

Blue looked at me intensely with what I was sure was her equivalent of a glare.

“Come here little not-bird,” I soothed, reaching down and scratching her behind her crest. She took a little longer than usual to make the face, but I knew eventually I’d get through to her. She continued to happily sit there as my stomach growled loudly. I knew I needed food, but I had been so distractd by Neville I hadn’t cared.

He came back in the room then and folded his arms across his chest, staring at me intently.

“Yes?” I asked innocently, smiling at him.

“Go take a shower,” he rolled his eyes, “ _Now_.”

“Fiiiine, bossy pants,” I stuck my tongue out at him.

“I just want us to go outside, this house is stuffy,” he amended.

“Fair enough,” I acknowledged, “I’ll be fast.” I got up, kissed him, and walked off to the bathroom.

We went downstairs together, Blue following eagerly, holding hands with one another as we entered the kitchen. I walked over to the pantry, hoping that no one would confront us about our absence yesterday as I grabbed some leftover pudding from yesterday and put it out on the table.

“Really? For breakfast?” Neville asked, laughing.

“It’s more like lunch at this point,” I grinned.

“Yes, it is,” a voice said behind us. I jumped and turned around to see my dad, standing in the doorway, looking at us sternly.

“Where were you two last night? We had the Christmas feast without you,” he commented accusatorily.

“Erm…” I flushed madly.

“We were talking, sir,” Neville mumbled in embarrassment, his feet shuffling on the floor.

“You were talking,” my dad frowned, looking back and forth at us.

“Yes,” I agreed, nodding madly.

“Until eleven o’clock at night.”

“Yup,” Neville sighed, “We had a lot to talk about.”

“And what, pray tell, was it?”

We looked at each other, both flushing madly. I looked down at my feet in embarrassment.

“Er…” Neville paused, seemingly unable to get any words out.

“I don’t know if I want you two sleeping in the same bed anymore.”

My head snapped up, I looked at him in terror.

“Sir,” Neville got out, looking braver now, “Sir, without me, she has nightmares. You really shouldn’t make her sleep alone. It won’t be good for her. I swear.”

Dad looked back and forth between us, “You really are just sleeping?”

We both nodded rapidly, me looking at him as earnestly as I could.

“But yesterday you spent the day talking,” Dad continued skeptically.

“We talked about Neville’s parents,” I explained calmly. Dad sighed heavily.

“Yes… alright. I can see how that would take the whole day,” he acknowledged.

“But we also talked about us,” Neville amended. I looked at him in shock, my mouth dropping open in horror. We had almost been home free.

“About you,” my dad raised his eyebrows.

“Yes. We’re a couple now, sir,” Neville stated calmly, “But we aren’t doing anything sexual yet. I really do just help her sleep. I swear.”

Dad looked back and forth between us before smiling slightly. I looked at him in confusion.

“Well, I can’t say I’m not _pleased_. Frankly, I knew it was a matter of time,” Dad shook his head, “At least for a few years. Just, look,” he sighed heavily.

“What?” I asked nervously.

“You both – and your friends – have had to grow up very fast. That’s horrible, and I’m sorry. You are some of the most mature people your age I have ever known,” Dad paused, “And I know you can handle anything like adults.”

“But…” I frowned at him.

“I don’t want you to rush into anything because you feel like adults, or because you feel like you don’t have any time to waste. This may feel true, and you know what, it may _be_ true,” Dad paused, “But there’s also something to be said for the fact that you’re not _actually_ adults. And sometimes, rushing into things we aren’t mentally prepared for can leave scars.”

I swallowed, averting my eyes.

“We know, sir,” Neville reassured.

“Good,” Dad walked over to Neville and clapped him on the shoulder, “Good. Now, I figure you two are mature enough to understand that you both probably have a deeper bond than most do due to everything you’ve been through together, so I hope you won’t be alarmed when I say welcome to the family.”

Neville flushed madly, “I’m touched, sir, not alarmed.”

My dad smiled wider, “Wonderful. I look forward to someday having you as a child-in-law, I suppose? What would be the term for that for you?”

Neville blushed even more, “I have no idea, sir. But thank you for not saying son.”

“I’ve told your grandmother before and I’ll tell her again, there’s no point in pretending that you’ll grow out of it,” Dad shrugged, “She should accept you for who you are. At any rate, I’m going to go pick up your Mum from the hospital. I’ll see you both later,” he beamed and left, and I looked over at Neville nervously.

“That went well,” he said, nodding.

“I think so,” I agreed, “Wonder how your Gran will take it.”

“Probably with pride or something, she wants me to be like my dad,” Neville muttered irritably.

“I’m sorry honey,” I murmured softly. He looked at me and smiled a little.

“It’s okay. It doesn’t really matter much to me. I love you, and you love me, and that’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me, so I couldn’t really be happier than I am right now.”

I grinned, walking over to him and kissing him joyfully.

“Want to just go out for breakfast?” he asked. I nodded, and we went out into the street together, spending a lovely day going around London, visiting the Museum again, and in general enjoying each other’s company in our newfound relationship.

And, indeed, that’s how most of the Holiday went, us leaving Grimmauld place to go and do something together. Sometimes we would stay in, but then we would just relax together in our room – well, depends on your definition of ‘relax’.

A few days after the New Year, Neville came up to me as I played with Blue, letting her bite and tug on a piece of rope as I held it back from her, playing tug of war.

“Hey Maggie?” he asked softly. I looked up at him and smiled.

“Yeah Nev? What’s up?”

“Do you want to… erm…” he flushed, running his hand through his hair nervously. It was already growing longer again.

“Oh spit it out, Nev, aren’t we supposed to be completely honest with each other now?” I grinned at him, tugging hard on the rope, making Blue hiss.

“Do you want to meet my parents today? For real?” Neville asked, blushing madly.

“Oh,” I gasped, “Yeah, sure. Of course!”

He nodded, looking nervous.

“It’s okay, Neville, I want to meet them,” I reassured softly, “Don’t be nervous.”

He nodded, and as I stood up I kissed him in reassurance, pulling him closer to me. He rested on me and held me tightly, nodding even more. I could feel tears fall from his eyes and into my hair, but I didn’t care much. I took his hand and we got into our winter clothes and went out into the blustery cold to go to St. Mungo’s.

Mum had gotten out ages ago, so I had hoped that I wouldn’t have to go back there any time soon. Still, I was happy to go with Neville; I wanted to meet his parents and I wanted to reassure him that I was not pitying him in the slightest.

Neville was so at ease with the hospital it made me sad. We quickly entered and walked inside, going up to the front desk. It was relatively crowded today, but it was holiday season, and people were probably still having rowdy and dangerous parties.

The witch looked up at us from the front desk, “Yes?”

“Erm, we’d like to go and see Alice and Frank Longbottom,” Neville murmured quietly, “Is that possible today?”

The witch looked at a sheet of paper, reading it carefully, her eyes scanning each line. She then put the paper down and nodded at us.

“Yes, they’re accepting visitors today. Go on ahead,” she said. We nodded and both walked through the double doors, heading up the steps past all of the portraits of healers.

“Must have sucked coming here all the time as a child,” I muttered softly.

“You don’t know the half of it,” Neville sighed, squeezing my hand, “Come on.”

We now reached the Spell Damage floor and walked to the ward. Neville took a deep breath, staring at the door nervously.

“Come on, Neville,” I urged, “We have to go in some time.”

He looked at me, swallowed, and nodded. I reached up and knocked on the door, squeezing Neville’s hadn tightly with my other hand. He squeezed it back, and his hand felt sort of sweaty, though I completely understood.

The door swung open and the Healer beamed at us fondly, her entire face stretched into a smile.

“Neville! It is good to see you – where is Mrs. Longbottom?” she asked.

“Erm, she’s at home,” Neville mumbled, “We wanted… to… to…”

“I’m his girlfriend,” I murmured quietly. Saying it made me feel very, very happy indeed, “And he wants me to meet his parents.”

“Of course!” the Healer gasped, “Of course. Come on in! They’re doing very well today, you picked a good day to come in.”

Neville looked at me gratefully and I kissed him softly, and we walked into the ward. Neville dragged me quickly past Lockhart before he could notice us, and we made our way to the end of the ward with the Healer. She grabbed the flowery curtain and pulled it around the two beds. They were pushed together, rather than spread apart, and there were so many personal affects around it was overwhelming. Pictures of Neville as a baby (So. Freaking. Adorable. I couldn’t. Cute overload.) and then at every further developmental stage. All of the pictures since I knew him included me and our friends, and I could tell that Neville wanted his parents to notice them the most, as they were front and center on the wall. There wer ebooks on the shelf that were absolutely covered in dust, as though they had sat there for years. There were many potted plants around the beds that looked fairly new – I could only assume that Neville had gotten his parents them since starting at Hogwarts.

Neville’s mum still looked like before. She was sitting on her bed, playing with a ball of string, looping the thread between her fingers. Neville’s dad was as tall as he was, with an ovular face and a long nose, just like his. His hair was white and whispy like Alice’s, and it was extremely long, making it look sort of like Einstein’s hair. He was babbling quietly to himself, looking down at a ball in his hands.

“Erm, Mum, Dad,” Neville stated quietly. His dad continued to look at the ball, but his mum actually had the wherewithal to look up.

“Mum, this is Maggie,” he pointed at me, looking at her desperately, “ _Maggie_. I’ve told you about her, remember?”

His mum looked at me with the curiosity and ignorance of a small child. I swallowed heavily, having trouble holding back tears.

“Mum, Maggie is – come on, Mum,” Neville sighed heavily as his mum briefly looked away. She turned back to him, her eyes still so terrifyingly vacant that I had to bite my lip to keep from sobbing.

“Maggie is my _girlfriend_ , Mum,” Neville introduced, “ _Girlfriend_. As in, she’ll hopefully be your daughter-in-law someday, alright? Family, Mum.”

His mum looked at me now for a long time. I wondered if she understood him, at least on some level. I smiled at her awkwardly, shuffling slightly from one foot to the other. Then, she lifted up her hand, as though waving hello, though she did not wave it back and forth. I raised my hand in response, smiling at her still.

“Hi,” I greeted, “It’s… it’s really great to meet you, Mrs. Longbottom.”

Then, Neville’s mum did something that was quite shocking. She smiled, very widely, and stretched out her hand towards me. I immediately grabbed it and shook it without hesitation, smiling back at her even though I was crying. I then couldn’t help myself, I dove forward and wrapped my arms tightly around her shoulders, giving her a big hug. She still had the mental ability to hug me back, though loosely, and I pulled back from her crying even more.

Neville had apparently slid down to sit on the floor, his head buried in his hands. I turned back to him and hugged him tightly, crying into his hair now, refusing to let go as Alice hummed next to us.

I got up and walked over to his dad, who was still babbling to the ball.

“Yes, yes, yes, there is a song o’er Motley hill, but I could catch the windfall, hippogriffs fit in keyholes, and ne’er did I sing it,” Frank babbled. I had no idea if this was an actual poem or just a bunch of gibberish.

“Erm… Mr. Longbottom?” I choked out. He continued babbling to the ball as though I hadn’t made a sound.

“I… erm… I’m Maggie, Neville’s… well I was just his friend, but now, see, I’m his girlfriend,” I explained, babbling myself. He continued to play with the ball in his hands.

“I… erm… I erm… I’m really pleased to meet you,” I whispered hoarsely. He didn’t even look up, but I reached out to touch his shoulder. He briefly looked at my hand, before turning back to the ball. I sighed heavily and went back to Neville, who was still crying on the floor.

“Come on, Nev, we can go now, if you want,” I reassured, rubbing his back gently. He sniffled and shook his head.

“Okay,” I nodded, sitting next to him, “Okay.” He continued to cry for a long time, and I just held him gently, unwilling to let go of him for any reason while he was this upset. Eventually, his tears slowed, and I reached to gently cup the side of his face farther away from me. He turned his head to look at me and I gently stroked his hair, frowning at him sympathetically.

“I love you,” I murmured quietly. He sniffled and leaned over to kiss me; it was very wet, given that he had just been bawling.

“I love you,” he responsed just as softly, “I’m sorry.”

“You shouldn’t be. This is so heartbreaking, and I just want you to know that I love you so much, and you are _so brave_ for having had this happen to you, and dealing with it,” I reassured. Neville nodded, smiling at me through his watery eyes. We kissed again, trying to keep it tasteful in the ward, even though there was a curtain around us and both of his parents were preoccupied.

“Should we… um…” he sniffled softly, “Should we go?”

“We can if you want,” I offred, “I don’t care. I’ll stay here for as long as you want.”

Neville smiled at me again and kissed me once more, before getting off the floor and helping me up as well. I waved goodbye at his parents as we left, resting my head against his arm as we walked back into the frigid London air.

Only a few days after that, we were again relaxing at Headquarters – now, I was letting Blue jump on the furniture to get some exercise, training her to follow my signal to jump on the right locations.

“Now, Blue, jump here,” I pointed at the surface of the coffee table, “No where else, and you’ll get bacon, right?”

Blue looked at me and chirped. I held up the bacon and then pointed at the coffee table.

“Jump!” I urged. Blue jumped on the table, and I grinned happily.

“Good girl!” I praised, throwing her the bacon. I had already learned the hard way that when food was relatively small to not try and hand-feed her. She caught the bacon in midair and eagerly devowered it, fluffing her feathers happily.

“She’s getting better at this,” Neville grinned, “Think you could get her to attack things?”

“I dunno,” I frowned, considering the idea, “We’d have to go out somewhere and practice hunting… we could only get away with that at Hogwarts.”

“True,” Neville admitted, reaching out and petting Blue’s back from the couch. Blue immediately sat down to continue to receive more pets.

“Look what you’ve done, we’re trying to train!” I scolded him. Neville just grinned cheekily.

“I can’t take _either_ of you anywhere,” I groaned softly. At that moment, Hermione walked into the living room, looking at us sadly.

“What’s up, Mione?” Neville asked, now scratching Blue behind her crest.

“Do you guys want to come upstairs? We should all talk to Harry,” she urged. We nodded, and I whistled at Blue to follow us, heading upstairs towards Harry’s room.

“I’ve been spending time with him every day since you two _finally_ started snogging –“

“Thanks for that eloquence, Hermione,” I rolled my eyes.

“ – but it’s been slow going. Right now I think we all need to talk to him and reassure him about something,” Hermione finished like I hadn’t spoken.

“No problem,” Neville nodded. We went into his room and I immediately sat down next to him on his bed, where he was sitting on the edge, staring at his lap.

“Hey Harry,” I greeted quietly.

“Hey,” he muttered softly.

“What’s up, mate?” Neville asked, looking at him kindly from the bed opposite. Hermione sat next to Neville, pulling her hair back behind her shoulders nervously.

“Harry,” Hermione began with a sigh, “Is convinced that he was the one who attacked them, not the snake.”

I looked at him, frowning, “Why would you think that?”

“Because it was my point of view,” Harry muttered soflty, “Was from the snake.”

“So?” Neville frowned, “You’ve gotten loads of visions from Voldemort, doesn’t mean you were actually there.”

“Yeah, but Voldemort – Dumbledore said that when Voldemoret cursed me when I was a baby, a part of him broke off and attached to me,” Harry sighed, “So, I can see what Voldemort does, cause of that, but –“

“But you don’t know why you could see his snake?” I offered. He nodded.

“Well first off, I want to know exactly what part of Voldemort attached to you. Do you just have a third hand somewhere that you’ve never shown me?” I joked. Harry managed to laugh.

“But anyway, has it ever occurred to you that the snake might just be – I dunno – Voldemort’s pet or something? He probably possesses it all the time, so when he was the snake, and you had your weird dream communion with him, that’s what you saw,” I shrugged.

“I… but maybe he was possessing _me_ …” Harry mumbled.

“Doubtful, mate. Hasn’t Ginny told you about the time she was possessed?” Neville frowned, “I mean, are there long stretches of time when you don’t remember anything?”

“No,” Harry admitted.

“Then you’re fine,” Neville shrugged.

“And you couldn’t have been transported to London by him, either. You can’t apparate _or_ disapparate inside Hogwarts, and Voldemort couldn’t just make you fly out of your dormitory, Harry,” Hermione reassured.

“If you had left your bed, someone would have known,” I nodded, “Do you really think Umbridge would have let the student she hates the most just miraculously fly away into the night?”

Harry laughed again and nodded, looking a little bit more cheerful at our words.

“And I don’t blame you at all for what happened to Mum, Harry. Fuck, if you hadn’t been there, she’d probably be dead. I’m so unbelievably grateful, bro,” I reassured.

“Same here,” Neville nodded.

Harry looked even more cheerful now, smiling, even.

“This is why you wouldn’t talk to us?” Neville asked in amazement.

“Well, I… I thought I was the weapon,” Harry admitted sheepishly.

“Oh please,” Hermione scoffed, “Voldemort wants to _kill_ you, not capture you. That’s been made obvious countless times.”

Harry nodded, now looking sheepish.

“Harry, if Voldemort could control you to do things, he probably already would have figured it out,” I reassured, “At any rate, I’m sure since your dreams are getting more vivid, Dumbledore will do something to help you deal with them.”

Harry nodded again, now looking skeptical, “Dumbledore never looks at me anymore.”

“That’s… weird,” Neville frowned.

“I don’t know why, he just won’t meet my eyes. Is he worried that Voldemort is – I dunno – already trying to spy on him using this link we have?” Harry asked desperately.

“He might be,” Hermione acknowledged, “But Harry, I think you’d know if Voldemort was in your mind.”

“Why?” Harry snapped, looking peevish.

“Well, think about it,” Hermione paused, “You were protected by your mother, yes, which is why he couldn’t touch you first year, but now he has your blood, so he can touch you now. But that’s all physical, it’s not about the mind, it’s not about the personality.”

“Yeah…” Harry frowned.

“I mean, you also are so – so completely different than Voldemort. I mean think about it, Harry. Your primary emotion in life – the thing that has always driven you – has been love, and compassion, and empathy. Your love for Maggie, your caring for the school at so many moments, your love for Neville and me, as well, I suppose… your need to help Ginny in the chamber, your understanding of everyone from Hagrid to Lupin, your caring about the house elves and Buckbeak and Sirius and Nathaniel and Melinda and you just… you care so, so deeply for everyone around you and you want so much for everyone to be safe and happy and _equal_ , I might add, even if that equality could be bad for you… your mind is basically the anti-Voldemort. Hell, I think you pity him,” Hermione paused, “I think deep down you pity Voldemort for leading a life with out _any_ of that. I think you could forgive Malfoy, if he showed repentance; I think you’re so full of goodness that you’d give anyone a second chance, and the fact that Voldemort never would get to that point makes you feel sorry for him. So I think, possessing your mind… would be very, very painful for him, for someone with so much darkness to… to encounter so much _light_.”

Neville’s and my jaws had dropped open. Hermione might as well have confessed being in love with him, honestly. Harry looked touched; his entire face flushed slightly, as he walked over and gave Hermione a long hug. Hermione flushed madly as this happened, hugging him back with her eyes closed.

“Thank you,” he mumbled softly, “Thank you all.”

“Course,” I nodded, “Trust us, Harry. You are a good person; having even a bit of Voldemort attached to you doesn’t change that.”

“Just means that we are one step ahead of him,” Neville grinned, “Between your scar hurting and your visions, why, we might stand a chance to beat the bastard.”

Harry smiled again, wiping some tears out of his eyes. He then turned to us.

“Congratulations, by the way,” he muttered softly.

“Thanks,” Neville smild widely.

“Thank you for forcing me to stay behind and actually deal with this,” I gestured to our intertwined hands. Harry chortled.

“Well, it was partially because you two were being ridiculous, but also partially because I wanted to know I’d left you happy. I was kind of trying to talk myself into running away,” Harry admitted.

“Take it from me, that’s a terrible idea,” I shook my head.

“I know, I didn’t do it, did I?” Harry snorted.

“Just have to reaffirm it,” I beamed, “Now… erm… do you guys want to do something?”

We spent the rest of the day playing with Blue, them helping me to teach her tricks. Like ravens, she was a fast learner, and it was extremely entertaining throughout the day.

Two days before we had to go back to school, Harry came into the room where Hermione, Neville and I were all relaxing, reading books and just sort of resting. Neville’s head was resting on my shoulder and he was lying on the couch, his eyes closed happily. I was trying to read one of my books from Christmas. Hermione was practicing her knitting.

“Hey guys,” Harry greeted.

“Hi, Harry,” we all answered in unison. I was now absent-mindedly stroking Neville’s hair.

“I wanted to… erm… you guys have a minute?” Harry asked.

“Does it _look_ like we’re busy?” Neville murmured groggily.

“No, I suppose not,” Harry laughed, “Er – I wanted us to talk to Uncle Nathaniel and Sirirus and Lupin… if that’s okay.”

I looked up at him, “Sure, Harry.”

We all went into another room, where the three men in question were sitting down, looking solemn. Neville closed the door behind him and we all sat down in other chairs, looking at them questioningly.

“I… I wanted to know about my parents,” Harry explained quietly, “And I thought you all deserved… to hear.”

“Ah,” Hermione nodded, looking thorughtful.

“The thing is,” Dad began, sighing heavily, “Your Mum really doesn’t like to relive the past. Really misses Lily, you see. They were as thick as thieves, and losing her really took a toll on her.”

“We kind nof figured as much,” I shrugged softly.

“So… we’re going to all tell the story of your parents – both of your parents, Harry, and Neville,” Sirius continued, “And, well, when Harry came up to ask us questions, because Nathaniel promised before the holiday, we knew we couldn’t do this without you all hearing – Harry would tell you anyway.”

“Naturally,” Harry agreed.

“So… alright. Back in the day, Melinda lived in Edinburgh with her parents, in a small little flat in the inner city,” Dad began, “They didn’t have a lot of money; her father worked in a factory and her mother was a schoolteacher. Her cousin, Lily, lived in Cokeworth, a town in the midlands… they werne’t very rich either, but they lived in a house at least, her parents working in offices. Lily had a sister, Petunia, and they lived down the street from Severus Snape, who lived in a sort of… well, it wasn’t a very nice place, because his father was… a… erm…”

“His father, as far as I’m aware, was a violent alcoholic,” Lupin sighed sadly, “And his mother, who was a witch, did not do much to stop his abuse.”

I looked down at my feet, feeling terrible for Snape. I looked over at Neville, who looked torn between horror and apathy – I couldn’t exactly blame him for not feeling sorry for his own abuser.

“At any rate, Lily and Snape were friends very early on, as he told her what magic was, and they would then play away from Petunia, who was never a very big fan of magic. Melinda would come down to visit Lily, and vice versa, and so when Melinda visited, the three were as thick as thieves, as it was soon very clear that she could also do magic,” Dad continued, “Lily and Melinda _were_ different, however. Lily was a very kind, very gentle person, but she could be fierce when she needed to be… Melinda, like she is now, was calculating and shrewd, and also very sneaky – she got away with a lot in her home, especially with the aid of magic. Snape was a quiet child, she says; fairly meek, but also very pompous, given that he was raised by a pure-blood witch who was constantly abused by a muggle… he managed to retrieve some anti-muggle bias simply from that. His parents also did not care for him much.”

“The three were friends, then, from the beginning of Hogwarts,” Sirius sneered, “I met them on the train –“

“James grew up in Godric’s Hollow, a mostly Wizarding neighborhood, and he was very well off,” Lupin interrupted, “He and Sirirus became friends on the train, almost instantly. Wormtail and I only joined with them after the sorting.”

“Lily was sorted into Gryffindor, but Melinda had already been sorted into Slytherin the year before,” Dad sighed, “And so when Snape joined her, the two became even closer. They would still spend time with Lily, of course, but it grew less and less over the years.”

“Even Melinda and Snape stopped talking after a while. Melinda hung out with a few Slytherins in her year who weren’t… shall we say, they weren’t sympathetic to You-Know-Who,” Lupin explained, “Renee Bobbers, and Gerald Avery.”

“I remember them,” I blurted out, feeling embarrassed.

“Gerald was related to a few pretty bad eggs,” Lupin amended, “So he, Renee, and Melinda sort of stuck together for safety. And Snape would hang out with people… well, Lucius Malfoy, Evan Rosier, Jeffrey Wilkes, Terrance Avery, Xavier Mulciber, and Bellatrix Lestrange, if that is any sort of indication.”

Neville scowled angrily; we all did. Lupin sighed and continued on.

“Snape’s friends and James’ – us – didn’t get along,” Lupin amended, “Snape would often curse James in the corridors, but James would bully him in return, even making his pants fall down in front of other students… Lily would try and stick up for him, and so would Melinda, but eventually they stopped after a while.”

“Fifth year, Snape and Melinda briefly dated,” Dad grunted, looking displeased by the truth of this information, “Sometime during fifth year, though, they had a row and fell out. Snape really fell in with the future Death Eaters, and honestly, he never talked to Lily or Melinda again – until after the war was over in the latter case, of course.”

“James eventually matured, of course, and Lily and he eventually dated and got married,” Lupin amended.

“Frank and Alice were calm souls,” Sirirus muttered, looking annoyed that he had barely gotten to speak, “Much more mature than us. Lily would often spend time with them, before dating James. They were her main friends during Hogwarts.”

Harry looked over at Neville and they grinned at each other despite themselves.

“Both couples got married during the war. You already know how I met Melinda,” Dad paused, “Well, in the thick of the darkest day, something happened that forced all three of us – and Sirius and Remus, but to a lesser extent, to go into hiding.”

“What happened?” Harry demanded anxiously.

“I can’t tell you that,” Dad sighed, “But it primarily affected the Potters and the Longbottoms. Sirius, Remus, Melinda and I had to go into hiding as sort of… collateral.”

I studied Dad carefully. Could this have to do with what Snape told me in my second year? What else would make the Potters suddenly go into hiding? But why would the Longbottoms have had to, too?

“What is it, sweetheart?” Dad asked.

“Can I… Can I talk to you in the hall?” I asked quietly.

“Sure,” Dad nodded, looking puzzled. We went out into the hall and he looked at me questioningly.

“Second Year, Snape… Snape told me that Harry was the only person who could defeat Voldemort,” I whispered very soflty, “And he told me not to tell Harry. Is this… is this why they went into hiding?”

Dad looked furious. He fumed for a few moments before managing to hiss out, “I cannot believe he told you that when you were so young –“

“That’s not the point, Dad,” I sighed.

Dad fumed for another minute before his shoulders slumped sadly, “Yes, that’s why. There was a prophecy – _do not tell your brother_ – that said… it gave conditions for who would be the one to defeat the Dark Lord. The conditions at the time could have applied to two young boys… Neville, and Harry.”

I felt my hands fly up to my mouth in horror.

“When Voldemort went after Harry, though, he essentially made the prophecy be about him, so Neville is safe,” Dad reassured.

“That’s not exactly comforting –“

“Well, fair, but that’s what happened,” Dad frowned, “ _Do not repeat it_.”

“I won’t,” I whispered. We went back into the room and I sat down next to Neville, holding him tightly.

“At any rate…” Sirius frowned, “We all went into hiding, but as you all know, eventually You-Know-Who found the Potters anyway. Snape, however, got off – according to Dumbledore, he had crossed sides, though _I_ have never seen the proof.”

“At any rate, that’s what we were like in school…” Lupin sighed, “A little pompous, a little roudy. We were stupid boys, who would go off into the forest with a werewolf and think it fun. But never think for a moment that your parents weren’t brave, Harry, or that they didn’t love each other, because they did.”

Harry nodded, tears in his eyes that he hastily wiped away.

“At any rate,” Sirius paused, “Our generation… it was destroyed by that war. Kids, I just want you to remember – if you can, if there’s any chance at all… try to enjoy being young. It’s a lost cause, but it’s heartbreaking for _all_ of us to see you all go through what we went through. None of us wanted that.”

“It brings back painful memories, which makes it hard for _all_ of us to talk about it,” Dad nodded.

I swallowed, crying softly. Neville rubbed my shoulder, but he was crying too, as were Hermione and Harry.

“Just know, all of you, that the bonds you forge in Hogwarts – the bond you forge in war – they are stronger than anything the dark side can throw at you,” Lupin continued, “You four… well, let’s just say, that we at the Order are a little frightened of how much we think you can all accomplish, so long as you work together.”

I smiled at him and nodded. Dad went and patted Harry on the back.

“Ask me questions about what your parents were like at any time, Harry. I’ll answer them best I can,” he paused, “They gave their lives so that you could have a better one than they did.”

Harry nodded, tears pouring from his eyes. Hermione gently rubbed his back, frowning down at her own knees.

“On that cheerful note,” Sirius clapped his hands together, clearly eager to distract Harry, “Let’s go play some Exploding Snap in the kitchen, eh? Come on, now, it’s still the Holiday!”

I got up and followed everyone out of the room; I could only wonder what that prophecy had said, and if there was anything else involved in it that could possibly come back to haunt Harry. As Neville squeezed my hand in reassurance, I sincerely hoped that Dumbledore would soon start to teach Harry how, exactly, he was supposed to defeat Voldemort. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys, there was a bit of a problem on my dino blog, so I couldn't write two chapters today. Hope you enjoyed this one; time to go back to Hogwarts... and, you know, hell on wheels. PLEASE comment!


	69. Chapter Sixty - Eight: January 11 - 12, 1996, London and Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It is, in the end, whatever the Hell I want it to be 
> 
> And when I'm through with it, it's going to blow a hole 
> 
> This wide, straight through the world's own idea of itself 
> 
> They're throwing bottles at your house 
> 
> Come on, let's go break their arms. 
> 
> You can talk about the way things were 
> 
> But I can't hear what your'e saying 
> 
> A time when life was not this hard 
> 
> Blessed by the innocence. 
> 
> Is the best yet to come? 
> 
> Or did it pass by long ago? 
> 
> Are we holding on to a thread, 
> 
> Of something already dead?" 
> 
> ~ Rise Against, "Reception Fades".

Chapter 68: January 11 – 12, 1996, London and Hogwarts

After a very long, very satisfying snogging session with Neville, I made my way downstairs to the kitchen to get some food, as I once again had neglected to actually try and get up and eat – as a result of the snogging. I was very groggy, and still in my pajamas, as I walked into the kitchen and started digging through the pantry.

“I see that you have no decorum at home as well as school, Miss Johnson,” a surprising voice sneered behind me. I turned around slowly, quickly pulling down my tank top to cover my entire stomach – an unfortunate roll of fat had been poking out from underneath it. I blushed furiously and looked over at Professor Snape.

“Erm… Professor Snape… why are you here?” I asked, flushing madly, straightening out my hiked up shorts.

“I am here to have a word with your adopted brother,” Snape explained calmly. I looked up at him and nodded. We hadn’t had a very good relationship ever since our grieving lessons third year – now it was just awkward to have to converse one-on-one with him.

“Why would you need to talk to him now? Why not wait for term?” I continued, frowning at him.

“Because it is important that Umbridge not hear what we are discussing,” Snape replied, as though it were obvious. I rolled my eyes and returned to getting food from the pantry.

“I take it you are doing better than the disaster you were during the summer holidays.”

“Yup,” I answered brusquely, grabbing a box of cereal to bring upstairs.

“Good.” I turned around to look at him critically.

“So, you actually care, then?” I questioned, frowning at him angrily. Snape sneered back at me.

“I said nothing of the sort. I simply do not think it fitting for you that you should become so weak.”

I laughed loudly, “There is nothing weak about mental illness. Get over yourself.” I tried to walk away, but his voice called me back.

“I am disappointed in your potions work, of late,” he said calmly. I looked around and shrugged.

“I need to do well in Charms on my O.W.L.s,” I explained calmly, “It’s more important that I do that than do well in potions. I don’t intend to continue on with the subject.”

Snape’s face twisted into a glare, “You are squandering your talents.”

“Yeah, well, I have to focus on my goals,” I muttered angrily, “Can’t blame me that they don’t involve you, can you?”

Snape continued to frown furiously at me, “You had no right to inquire into my personal –“

“I had every right, and you know it,” I snapped, “You are hiding information from me about me and the people I care about. You don’t have to tell me, but you have no right to get mad at me for getting mad about it.”

Snape scowled angrily, clearly having no response to that commnt. I nodded in satisfaction and walked back up the stairs to bring the cereal to Neville. As I started on the steps, I shouted out, “And there’s no reason for you to torture Neville or Harry for what happened to Lily.”

No sound came from the kitchen; I took his silence as a confirmation of my theory as I went back into the room. Neville was lying down on the bed, playing with Blue, who was eagerly jumping onto surfaces wherever he pointed. I walked up to him and joined him, eating cereal out of the box with him and spending the rest of the day just kissing, knowing that soon we’d be going back to hell.

We were all hustling the next morning to get out the door to go back to school; everything was chaotic with people gathering up their possessions and saying their goodbyes. I was dreading going back to school and packed exceptionally slowly; the last person I wanted to deal with right now was Umbridge, but there was no escaping that situation any longer.

“Come on, kids, we have to take the Knight Bus!” Mum called from downstairs. I sighed, pressing my head against the wall in angst.

“Come on, Mags, we should go,” Neville soothed quietly, reaching to rub my back gently with his hand.

“Yes, but consider the following: we don’t,” I muttered angrily.

“We have to,” Neville grumbled, “I don’t like it any more than you do, but there isn’t any way around it. Come on, we can see our other friends there, that’ll be good, right?”

“I guess,” I acknowledged, “I just have a very bad feeling about this upcoming term, you know?”

 “You think it could be worse than last term?” Neville frowned at me, looking newly worried.

“Well, I mean… I feel like Umbridge will really want to reign in the school. She lost control of us at the end of last term… not something she’s likely to forgive. I think she has a lot of new things up her sleeve, and she will stop at nothing to get what she wants,” I muttered softly.

“Well,” Neville paused, frowning, “Well, we’ll just have to keep fighting. It’s what we do.”

“Yeah,” I agreed, smiling a little. He took my hand and we went downstairs, where the gaggle of parents was waiting.

“We’re going to escort you back!” Tonks grinned eagerly at me, pointing to herself and Lupin, “Your parents have to get back to the work for the Order.”

I nodded, looking over at my Mum and hugging her tightly, not willing to let go as she had spent the bulk of the Holiday in the hospital.

“We’ll see you again at the easter holiday,” she reassured, smiling slightly, “It won’t be long.”

“Thanks, Mum,” I smiled back at her, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she nodded, “Now, let me talk to the others –“

I turned to Dad, hoping to get a parting from him as well; he and Harry were deep in discussion, and his hand was clapped on Harry’s shoulder.

“You can do it. Just remember what I told you,” Dad murmured to Harry. Harry nodded fiercely, a determined expression on his face.

“Good. I love you, son,” Dad murmured. Harry’s eyes filled with tears and he hugged my dad tightly. I stood back respectfully; I was a bit amazed that Dad had called Harry _son_ ; this was a statement saved for dire situations.

“Ah, Maggie,” Dad beamed at me, “You try and be… less unsafe than usual.”

“I’ll do my best,” I grinned. Dad sighed heavily and pulled me in for a long hug.

“I love you, Maggie. Make me proud as always,” he murmured softly into my ear. I grinned back at him and nodded.

“I love you too, Dad,” I beamed.

“Alright, alright, we should all get going!” Lupin urged, “If we’re going to get there on time!”

I had never taken the Knight Bus before. It was a triple-decker, purple bus, with the general appearance and likeness of a too tall tower of books. I spent the entire ride trying to not be sick; apparently, I was not a fan of rickety, much too fast moving bus.

“You okay, Mags?” Neville asked quietly as we got off the bus and started walking towards Hogwarts. I honestly felt a little green at the thought of facing Umbridge _and_ George again. I shrugged wordlessly, squeezing his hand tightly.

“Well, at the very least, you get to see Ginny again, right?” Hermione asked Harry. Harry flushed madly and shrugged nonchalantly.

“What… was that?” Neville asked, frowning.

“I haven’t written to her much… er… at all,” Harry admitted sheepishly.

“Why?” I asked sharply, looking at him in shock.

“With everything that happened when we left and then how I dealt with it… I didn’t want to bother her with it,” Harry muttered, looking embarrassed, “She’s going to be really mad at me, isn’t she?”

“Probably,” Neville frowned, “You better have a really good plan to make it up to her.”

“I have zero percent of a plan,” Harry groaned, “I’m more worried about Snape.”

“Yeah, what did Snape want to talk to you about?” I asked curiously.

“Apparently I’m starting Occlumency lessons,” Harry grimaced angrily, “With him. Basically, Voldemort can read minds, and Occlumency will help me keep him _out_ of my mind.”

“Oh,” I frowned, “Is that really urgent?”

“Dumbledore thinks the snake vision made Voldemort aware of our mind connection. Evidently, he hadn’t been before,” Harry grumbled in annoyance. Blue, noticing Harry’s distress, rubbed up against his legs as we drew nearer the castle.

“Well, I think this is a good idea,” Hermione urged fervently, “If Voldemort tries to go into your mind – and he actually succeeds on being there, obviously – it could be disasterous. You have to protect yourself.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Harry muttered angrily as we walked inside, “I just wish I didn’t have to learn from Snape.”

“Understandable,” Neville grimaced sympathetically. We retreated to our room as quickly as we could, not willing to face the world around us. Blue chirped happily and walked over to her bed, immediately sitting down and resting in it. I turned to Neville and frowned.

“It seems like ages since we were here,” I sighed softly.

“You’re telling me,” Neville agreed, looking around, “I can’t believe that Voldemort is going to try and possess Harry. I mean, I _can_ believe it, but can you talk about disasterous?”

“My question is,” I paused, frowning and sitting on the edge of the bed, “What were Mum and your Gran even guarding that night?”

“I don’t know,” Neville acknowledged, “But probably the weapon, right?”

“So Voldemort knows where the weapon is, then, if he sent the snake to check it out,” I frowned, “Where would there be a weapon that Voldemort wouldn’t go himself – or send a Death Eater – to check it out?”

“Well, we have no clue what the weapon is, so the better question is where would Voldemort want recon to try and infiltrate, but not trust a Death Eater to get it, so he would possess his snake instead?” Neville scratched the top of his head, “This weapon is extremely important to him, that much is clear, if he won’t trust a Death Eater to investigate. Meaning, I’m more convinced now than ever that it’s information. If it were just some new spell or some way to kill people, a Death Eater would understand the importance of that… the need to be discrete, and the need to investigate. But if it’s information, he might not want a Death Eater to know it – he doesn’t tell them everything, right? So he’d need to make sure that the person investigating would do so discretely and carefully, even without knowing what the information was… and he probably couldn’t trust any Death Eater to act like that, I mean they’re faithful but they’re not devoid of curiosity… so he had to do it himself.”

“So it must be of great personal importance to him, right?” I frowned, “I mean, Voldemort does share some of the details of his plans with his Death Eaters. So this must be so important – and so closely pertaining to him – that he didn’t trust anyone else to do it.”

“That makes sense,” Neville nodded, “But Voldemort is not really in hiding so much as he is just laying low. People don’t think he’s back. He can get away with going to many different places to check things out – it’s well populated areas he has to avoid.”

“So wherever this was, it was well populated,” I agreed, “And, furthermore, Mum and your Gran could potentially get away with being in the place in question. So it’s definitely not Hogwarts.”

“Maybe Gringotts? Maybe Dumbledore put the information in the bank?” Neville suggested.

“No, I mean, he could have, but then Mum and your Gran wouldn’t need to guard it… or at least, they _couldn’t_ guard it. The goblins keep track of the place so carefully… they would notice a bunch of wizards constantly switching out a guard, and they’d be insulted to boot,” I sighed, “That we didn’t trust them to do the guarding themselves.”

“Oh that makes sense,” Neville acknowledged, “So… it’s information… that they probably can’t even move, right? I mean, if they could move it, Dumbledore would put it in Hogwarts.”

“So it’s in an unsafe location, where Voldemort can’t dare to show himself, and where the information in question can’t be moved,” I pursed my lips together, “Maybe it doesn’t actually belong to Dumbledore? Maybe it belongs to someone else? But he knows what it is, so he wants to guard it?”

“Harry said he kept imagining a corridor,” Neville frowned, “So this place is inside, and it’s big enough to have corridors.”

I sighed heavily, “Maybe Hermione has an idea. I’m stumped. I can’t think of any place like that. St. Mungo’s? But what information would be there.”

“Voldemort desperately seeks Harry’s birth certificate,” Neville joked.

I rolled my eyes and nudged my shoulder into his; he grinnd at me happily. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and held onto him tightly.

“Do you think it has to do with Harry, though?” I sighed, “I mean, it could be about something else. Dumbledore or the Ministry or something.”

“I dunno. Harry is a good bet just cause Voldemort seems pretty determined to kill him,” Neville shrugged in my arms, kissing the top of my head, “But I guess there’s no particular reason why he’d be more obsessed with Harry than with Dumbledore or someone.”

I pulled back and looked at Neville steadily. We had no secrets, now. I had to tell him.

“Yes, there is,” I murmured quietly.

“There is?” Neville asked, raising one eyebrow in surprise. I took a very long, very deep breath.

“I’ve… been told to not say this to anyone. I’m not supposed to know, I only know because Snape is a dick,” I explained calmly, “Who decided to drop a bombshell of information on me at the age of thirteen because ‘he didn’t believe in sugar-coating.’” I put the end portion of my phrase in finger quotes.

“Okay,” Neville nodded, “But then, why are you bringing it up?”

“Because we have no secrets, and frankly, this is a hard burden for me to bear on my own,” I mumbled softly.

“You shouldn’t have to bear anything on your own,” Neville reassured, “I promise I won’t tell anyone.”

“No one. Not a single person. You cannot reveal this information to another human being, ever,” I emphasized, staring intensely into his eyes. He swallowed, now looking more nervous, and nodded.

“I won’t, I promise.”

“Good,” I took a deep breath, running my hand through my bangs, “Alright, so… people wonder why Voldemort went after Harry as a baby, right?”

“Yes,” Neville frowned, “I just figured he was after the Potters and Harry was collateral.”

“But think about that for a minute,” I pointed out, “Voldemort killed his dad, sure, but then he gave his mum the option to survive. Why would he do that if he was after the Potters? And according to Harry, he was trying to kill, well, Harry, when he was urging Lily to step aside.”

“So Voldemort was after Harry?” Neville frowned, “But why would he spare Lily if it would just be quicker for him to kill her?”

“I have no idea,” I sighed, “I really don’t. But let’s focus on the fact that he was aiming for Harry, a _baby_.”

“Yeah, what’s up with that?” Neville scowled, “So, I presume you know why?”

“Yes,” I sighed heavily, “Apparently… there was a prophecy.”

“A prophecy,” Neville repeated, looking skeptical.

“Apparently real ones do exist,” I offered, “I mean, they’d have to, wouldn’t they? Otherwise Divination wouldn’t really be a thing.”

“True,” Neville acknowledged reluctantly.

“And this prophecy… sort of said who would be the person who could defeat Voldemort,” I sighed, “I think it set conditions and said that the only person who could beat him would fit them.”

“And I’m guessing Harry was the one to fit the conditions?” Neville looked dejected at the thought.

“Well, he wasn’t initially the only one. Apparently, there was one last condition that Voldemort fulfilled by trying to kill Harry – like, there were two people the prophecy could have applied to, but when Voldemort targeted Harry, he made it about him,” I continued.

“Who was the other person?” Neville asked immediately. I swallowed heavily, averting my eyes.

“Mags?” Neville asked again nervously.

“The… the other person… the other person was you, Nev,” I whispered very quietly.

Neville looked at me in shock, his mouth dropped open as far as it would go. He looked at me like that for a long time.

“But because Voldemort went after Harry, you’re safe,” I reassured quietly, “You’re not the one who has to defeat him.”

“That’s not… erm…” Neville swallowed heavily, “Well I’m not safe, am I? Harry’s my best mate, well one of them, I’m always going to be targeted anyway as collateral damage.”

“True,” I admitted, “But, it’s more comforting than you being the specific target.”

“I guess,” Neville sighed, “That’s just… what were the conditions? Do you know? Like what do Harry and I have in common?”

“Your birthdays are really close together,” I offered. Neville sighed again.

“I’d say that doesn’t matter but prophecies are bullshit,” Neville paused, “So that’s why both of our parents went into hiding at the same time… Dumbledore warned them about the prophecy…”

“Or someone did, at any rate,” I nodded, “And I guess because my parents were friends with both, they went into hiding too, same with Sirius and Lupin.”

“Makes sense,” Neville sighed, “So when Harry was picked, my parents must have thought they were home free… let their guard down… at least I wouldn’t be targeted by Voldemort, right?”

His eyes were full of tears. I held his face in my hands and gently kissed both of his eyes until the tears were gone.

“So that’s why all this happened. Some idiot made a prophecy,” Neville muttered.

“Well, I mean, that also meant that Voldemort wasn’t at large for a while,” I offered, “Our childhoods were relatively safe.”

“True,” Neville sighed, “I just… that prophecy ruined Harry’s life. Fuck, it ruined _my_ life, probably, I mean why else would it just _happen_ to be _my_ parents that Lestrange singled out? She knew we had something to do with what Voldemort was doing just before he disappeared.”

“That’s… not a ridiculous theory,” I muttered sadly.

“And now Harry won’t ever be free as long as Voldemort is alive and the four of us can’t have the nice, normal lives we deserve,” Neville grumbled darkly, “I want to punch whoever made this prophecy in the throat.”

“It’s probably good that someone was born who can defeat Voldemort, though,” I frowned.

“Yeah, but did she have to make a prophecy saying _who_ it was? Harry would have avoided all that trouble if there hadn’t been a prophecy – he’d just become an auror and fight like the rest of us…” Neville trailed off, looking at the wall with anger.

“But that’s the thing – the prophecy definitely had something involved that required Voldemort’s choice. Otherwise, it could still be either you or Harry,” I sighed, “I think Voldemort did something to Harry by choosing him that made him, somehow, better equipped to fight him, or something.”

Neville looked at me for a long time, not saying anything.

“I mean, you both are amazing at defensive magic – you’re getting really good, I think overall you and Harry are better than Hermione and me – so I think both of you have the skills to do it. But Voldemort did something to Harry when he picked him – gave him something that you can’t just get from skill or whatever,” I hurriedly explained.

“The only things Voldemort gave Harry by picking him was fame, notoriety, a difficult life, no parents, and a weird connection to his… head…” Neville’s eyes widened in shock. I felt my mouth drop open.

“But, the thing is, Voldemort didn’t give him that,” he hurriedly continued, “His mum did, by dying for him. She protected him, and the curse rebounded.”

“Still, Voldemort picked him… and it did lead to that,” I insisted, “That has to mean something. Harry has some weird link with Voldemort, it lets him see into Voldemort’s head, lets him speak Parseltongue – I mean that’s why we figured out everything second year, isn’t it? And Harry’s scar hurting whenever Voldemort has a serious emotion – that’s how we figured shite out first year. It’s how we figured out everything last year – it’s how he saved Mum’s and your Gran’s lives…”

“I agree, it’s been extremely useful,” Neville sighed, “I think I’m just getting tetchy and… erm… pedantic? Is that the right word? His mum gave him the ability to do these things, not really _Voldemort_.”

“True,” I acknowledged, “Neither of them really actively made any choices in the matter. Still… that’s gotta be it, right?”

“It makes sense,” Neville sighed for a long time, resting his cheek against the top of my head, “Why Harry?”

“Because he’s Harry,” I murmured, “We just have to stick by him through to the end, and help him as much as possible.”

“Wait a second,” Neville suddenly leapt up from the bed and stared at me. I frowned at him.

“Did you hear the actual prophecy, or is this just what Snape told you?” he began, looking frazzled.

“Snape and my Dad, but no, I haven’t heard the prophecy,” I acknowledged.

“Alright,” Neville sighed, “Okay. So working just off what we know, here – why did Voldemort attack Harry as a baby?”

“To neutralize the threat, I suppose,” I frowned at him.

“Yes, that does make sense – if Voldemort didn’t realize his _choice_ had an impact, here,” Neville frowned, “I mean, if Voldemort only knew that there were two kids who might be able to defeat him, he’d try to kill them – wouldn’t he? But if he knew that _targeting_ one of them would make that one – well, the person who could defeat him – if he knew that attacking Harry would give him the power to do that…”

“He’d still attack him, I don’t know how that would change,” I shook my head, frowning.

“Oh, I’m not denying that Voldemort wouldn’t want to leave Harry _or_ me just lying around alive,” Neville laughed humorlessly, “But we both had parents who were huge in the resistance. We were both well protected. It would actually be easier for him to come after us later, when we weren’t necessarily under their protection, wouldn’t it? As in, wait until we’re just out of school, or teenagers, or _something_ – corner one of us when we’re vulnerable, and still young enough to not be much of a threat.”

“Okay, but he probably just wanted to get rid of the threat as soon as possible,” I shook my head.

“Exactly,” Neville looked at me with raised eyebrows, “He acted as though who would be the one to defat him was predetermined, so it would be better to get it done with. If he realized that his choice in who he targeted had an affect on who it would be – wouldn’t it make even _more_ sense to wait? See which one of us would be better to face? See who was more vulnerable? Pick the easier foe?”

“So you’re saying he didn’t have all the info, or at least, he doesn’t have all the info _we_ do,” I looked at him questioningly.

“I’m saying that he acted recklessly. He didn’t think through what he was doing – if he knew that his choice had an impact, he wouldn’t have been so swift to pick one of us, I’m sure of it. He essentially destroyed himself by picking Harry, I don’t think he would have done something like that if he knew how important it was _to_ pick Harry,” Neville’s eyes were shining with realization and excitement, like he had just bred the perfect type of plant at last.

“So he doesn’t know the whole picture,” I acknowledged, “What are you getting at with that?”

“What kind of information,” Neville murmured quietly, “Would Voldemort want the most?”

I stood up off of the bed and looked at him in shock, “How to defeat Harry.”

‘If he didn’t hear the part about picking Harry – how much do you want to bet that he really didn’t know very much of the prophecy at all?” Neville grinned at me, “How much do you want to bet that there’s more your Dad didn’t even tell you, obviously, because it would upset you?”

“One hundred galleons,” I agreed, “So… so Voldemort is…”

“He’s trying to get the prophecy, or find out what it said. He’s trying to get the whole picture, so he knows if there’s a way to beat Harry. I mean look at Harry’s track record so far – he won as a baby, as a first year, as a second year, and then last year. Voldemort must realize that Harry isn’t just some guy he can Avada kedavra and be done with,” Neville bounced slightly on his feet, “Voldemort wants to know if there’s a trick – a secret – something else that he’s missing, like he missed the bit about picking him!”

“So he’s after the prophecy – that must be the weapon!” I hissed, grabbing Neville’s arms in shock, “He wants to get the rest of that info!”

“He wants to know how to beat Harry!” Neville nodded eagerly. We both looked at each other in amazement, our mouths dropped open.

“So – so – where are prophecies kept?” I asked breathlessly.

“No bloody clue… but you know who would know?” Neville grinned.

“Hermione,” we said in unison.

“Should we tell her… about the rest of this? Obviously we can’t tell Harry,” Neville acknowledged.

“I don’t know,” I sighed, “I technically shouldn’t have told _you_. Look at what happened because I did.”

“We figured out what’s been happening with the Order and Voldemort?” Neville grinned.

“I mean, it’s wonderful, but now we know something _huge_ – we could give it away to anyone if they gave us Veritaserum or something, or it could be tortured out of us – we’re vulnerable, this is why the Order didn’t tell us – I mean, I’m willing to bet most of the Order don’t even know what they’re guarding, they just know that they have to guard it!” I hissed.

“Well, we know now – and honestly, I feel better knowing than not. Knowing means that, if a situation arose, we could help,” Neville insisted, “Now, if we just knew _where –_ “

“Let’s go,” I agreed. We ran out of the room, through the corridors, eagerly aiming for the Gryffindor Common Room. We ran inside, and Hermione was there, reading her Arithmancy textbook. Harry was studying potions, muttering to himself in annoyance.

“Hermione!” Neville panted heavily, leaning on his knees – we must have run a little too fast.

“Yes?” Hermione asked, frowning at us and closing her book.

“Where are prophecies kept?” I asked, looking at her desperately, “Where are they kept?”

“The Ministry of Magic,” she frowned greater, “In the Department of Mysteries – its where all… inexplicable magical objects are kept… well, inexplicable or dangerous or rare, I suppose. There’s a hall where all prophecies are kept, like a sort of record –“

“That makes complete sense!” Neville wheezed.

“Thank you Mione!” I cheered, patting her on the shoulder. We then left the Common Room quickly, before either of them could ask any questions.

“The Ministry of Magic is the _exact_ sort of place Voldemort would try and get recon of before attacking – and that prophecy is the _exact_ sort of thing he’d want to investigate himself – and the Ministry is the _exact_ place where Voldemort can afford to show his face the least!” I hissed eagerly to Neville as we walked down the stairs towards our room again.

“So the Order’s been guarding the Department of Mysteries – probably having to mostly do it in secret, so as not to get caught – bet they’re using Moody’s invisilbity cloak,” Neville grinned at me.

“They _have_ to be guarding it round the clock… it must be so dangerous… and of course that’s worth dying for, obviously, Voldemort shouldn’t ever get his hands on that information,” I sighed as we reached our room and went back inside.

“You know who it would be _really_ useful for, though?” Neville asked slyly. I looked over at him in confusion, frowning heavily.

“Who?”

“Us,” Neville said simply. I looked at him questioningly.

“Why would –“

“Come on, Maggie. What information does Voldemort want from that prophecy?” Neville rolled his eyes. His brain was apparently on a roll today.

“How to defeat Harry,” I acknowledged, “You reckon… it says how Harry could defeat Voldemort?”

“I think it says exactly that,” Neville nodded, “I mean, that thing about their brain connection – that’s only conjecture. It probably says something more concrete, or useful, or… at any rate, knowing the actual prophecy, it _has_ to be able to help us help Harry, if we know what it is.”

“Well, we could either try to get past the Order – I don’t see that going well – or we could ask Dumbledore, who I am _sure_ knows about this,” I rolled my eyes.

“I see _that_ going well,” Neville sighed bitterly, “Hey Professor, care to tell us the really sensitive information that you refuse to tell even Harry, the person to whom it refers?”

“Well,” I said determinedly, looking at him with my eyebrows furrowed, “Well, at some point, we have to find out. Because it’s more important for us to know, than to not know.”

“Yeah,” Neville glared angrily, “And you know who needs to know the most?”

“Harry,” I responded quietly. I suddenly felt very tired, and exceedingly old.

“Harry,” Neville nodded, “This is – this is ridiculous. Why doesn’t Harry know _any_ of this? Why has Dumbldore not told him? What else is Dumbledore hiding from Harry?”

“Probably a lot,” I acknowledged, “Like how in the fuck can part of Voldemort be attached to Harry? What part of Voldemort? How could a portion of Voldemort bury itself in Harry’s scar?”

“Exactly,” Neville agreed instantly, “And what does that mean for Harry? Does it mean he needs to get rid of it? I doubt that Voldemort can really disappear if part of himself is always in Harry –“

“Is it just his powers, or is it actually _him_ , as in, his soul, or something?” I frowned angrily, “I doubt it’s just his powers… why would that let Voldemort and Harry see into each other’s minds? I guess I don’t understand the magic involved –“

“It seems weird,” Neville paused, “I mean, no one’s ever survived a killing curse before, so I guess we can’t know, but is this normal? For part of a person to attach to someone else due to a killing curse rebounding?”

“You would think,” I muttered shrewdly, “He’d just fucking _die_.”

“Yeah – rebounded curses just act normal!” Neville nodded eagerly, “Lockhart’s memory erasing charm rebounded – he lost his memory! Part of his memory didn’t go flying off and land in McGonagall’s head –“

“Oh god, can you imagine the horror?” I chortled, “Maybe there’s something about the killing curse – can’t be compelled to kill its caster or something… but that’s still fishy…”

“So what would make a person’s… essence? Fragment?” Neville frowned angrily, “What is _that_ about? Are there more pieces of Voldemort floating around somewhere? Also, if he didn’t die, how the hell did he lose his body? If the curse just injured him, wouldn’t he just try to heal in his body? Why did his soul up and float away?”

“Maybe the curse _did_ kill his body – but his soul for whatever reason got the fuck away?” I offered.

“How does that even _work –_ “

“How would I know?” I laughed. Neville rolled his eyes and we looked at each other for a long moment.

“So how do we confront Dumbledore?” I muttered irritably.

“No bloody clue. He’s not exactly offering up this information. Probably trying to protect Harry or something, which is ridiculous, he hasn’t been safe _once_ his entire life –“

“He hasn’t been safe since coming to Hogwarts,” I pointed out quietly, “He was fine at home – sure, occasional bears, but fine…”

“So… he’s only been safe at home?” Neville frowned, “Why would that be?”

“I don’t know, but no follower of Voldemort – no Death Eater, and there are plenty out there – tried to get Harry while we were at the Nest. Voldemort’s soul, or Quirrell, or his body of late has never tried to get Harry at the Nest. No one attacked us. And we weren’t secret kept, I know that, because people could come over to our house – you never got a piece of parchment or something saying where we lived, did you? And I could talk about the Nest to people in the village, say where we lived. It only became secret kept when Padfoot joined us,” I forrowed my brow in concentration, “So why were we safe? _Your_ parents certainly weren’t! People _had_ to have been after Harry!”

“Maybe that’s why your mum didn’t tell you about magic. Maybe she was trying to keep you out of the public eye – keep you in hiding from everyone,” Neville offered.

“Oh I’m sure that’s a reason for it – still, though, she’d need a secret keeper to keep us _completely_ safe. People could still come to the house,” I shook my head, “It does not make _any_ sense how for those ten years of his life, Harry was completely and utterly fine and unattacked.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Neville acknowledged.

“So, then… why hasn’t Dumbledore told Harry any of this? Why Voldemort targeted him? Why part of Voldemort attached to Harry? Why Harry was safe his whole childhood? How Harry has to defeat him? Why the hell wouldn’t Dumbledore – a man who is _clearly_ playing puppetmaster to everyone – not given Harry all of the information he _needs_ to save our bacon?” I frowned. At the word bacon, Blue’s head perked up in interest.

“Either he doesn’t want Harry to know so Harry doesn’t do anything stupid, or he’s trying to protect him from the knowledge… which is stupid on _his_ part,” Neville grumbled.

“Yeah! Harry proved himself able to handle this shit in _first year_. Dumbledore is hurting everyone by not helping Harry – by not giving him the information he needs – Dumbledore could be inadvertently causing _so many_ deaths –“ I whispered in shock.

“Dumbledore is smarter than that…” Neville frowned, “Why wouldn’t he tell Harry any of this? There has to be a logical…. Reason…”

I looked at Neville, sighing heavily with the weight of realization, “Of course there is.”

“What?” Neville asked eagerly.

“Why aren’t _we_ telling him?”

“Because we were told not to,” Neville frowned.

“Yes, but – come on, now – why would we hesitate to tell him anyway?” I gave Neville a sympathetic, sad smile.

“Because… because we love him… and don’t want to upset him,” Neville offered, frowning at me.

“Dumbledore cares about Harry. Dumbledore doesn’t want to worry him,” I murmured, “Dumbledore doesn’t want to place this burden on him. I mean come on, Nev – right now you’re excited, because we’re figuring out everything that has been _happening_ to us over the past five years… but think about what it means for a minute.”

Neville looked desperately, horrifically sad almost instantly.

“Exactly. When I found out, second year – I went into a huge depression. Do you remember that?” I whispered.

“Of course,” Neville murmured sadly, “I was worried about you – so unbelievably worried… I didn’t know what to do, why you were like that, how to help…”

“How do you think Harry – the person the prophecy is _about_ – is going to react?” I whispered.

We stared at each other for a long time, looking sadly into each other’s eyes.

“Well,” Neville paused for a long time, “Well. Since we already know what we _do_ know… maybe we should talk to Dumbledore… Confirm the details, anyway.”

I looked at him sadly, “Later. Maybe. I don’t know. Right now I just… want to stop thinking about it.”

“Yeah,” Neville acknowledged softly, “Yeah. Okay.”

He pulled me in for a long and comforting hug. I held onto him tightly, trying to not think of all the things that were swirling around in the back of my brain. I pulled back from the hug and pulled him in for a long, deep kiss by the back of his neck, kissing him so desperately I worried that I would run out of air very fast. He kissed me back with equal furvor, pushing me down onto the bed, which I gladly encouraged with more kisses. I dug my tongue deeply into his mouth and he moaned loudly, now pressing his whole body up against mine. I ran my hands all along his back and kissed him as passionately as I could, desperate to forget everything, desperate to just be a normal teenager, desperate for something hopeful –

In a haze of passion and happiness, Neville pulled back from me, his pupils more dilated than I had ever seen him, panting heavily as he looked at me.

“We’re getting carried away,” Neville murmured breathlessly. I nodded, realizing the truth of his words.

“Sorry, I – sorry,” I acknowledged, sitting up and straightening out my clothes. He sat next to me on the edge of the bed.

“It’s okay, I said _we_ , didn’t I?” Neville laughed sadly.

“It’s very easy for me to just… try and forget my problems… using reckless behavior,” I mumbled quietly.

“I know, Mags,” Neville wrapped his arm tightly around my shoulder, pulling me close to him.  I looked up at him, tears forming in my eyes. Even sitting, he was taller than me, and I couldn’t rest my head against his, I had to settle for his chest. He pulled my head up from his chest and began kissing every inch of my face, kissing away the tears, and resting his forehead against mine.

“I love you,” he murmured softly, “I love you, and we’re going to get through this. Together.”

I nodded, crying again, pressing my nose to his, “I know. I love you.”

And, in the end, perhaps that would be enough.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys - might be able to crank out another chapter, we'll see; I had to mow the lawn today.   
> I'd like to point out A) Maggie has realized shit like this in the past, B) Neville is a lot more confident in my version (cause of Maggie) and thus trusts his own intelligence more, and C) Look, a lot of this stuff was actually painfully obvious in the original story, at least, it was to me when I was reading it - I predicted so much of the later books you have no idea.   
> At any rate, please comment and let me know what you think!!! I haven't been getting as many of late and it's made me sad :(


	70. Chapter Sixty - Nine: January 13, 1996, Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I know you really don't wanna step to this 
> 
> Really don't know why you talkin' shit 
> 
> You about to catch one right in ya lip 
> 
> It's bout to be a what? 
> 
> Girlfight!" 
> 
> ~ Brooke Valentine, "Girlfight".

Chapter 69: January 13, 1996, Hogwarts

The next day, every member of the D.A. managed to make their way towards the four of us at some point, asking whether or not we’d have a meeting that night. Harry, sadly, had his Occlumency lesson, and had to tell all of them that he was in remedial potions – not something he was exactly eager about. Zacharias Smith, for example, laughed at him so much that I wanted to hex him – but I managed to control myself and not do so. Cho Chang had actually giggled at the thought, making Harry flush in embarrassment. Draco Malfoy even seemed to overhear him talking about the remedial potions portion of the information in the hallway. Though I only saw his facial expression as we walked past, there was a glint of glee and eagerness there that I was not only nervous about, but that actively pissed me off. The last thing Malfoy needed was more fuel with which to torture Harry, especially when he was going through as much as he was. Harry had quite enough to be getting on with without petty school rivlarlies coming back into play.

“I don’t know which is worse,” Harry muttered sadly as we all walked along to our first Defense lesson of the term together, “The fact that I have this lesson with Snape, or the fact that everyone thinks I’m an idiot now.”

“Oh, they don’t think you’re an idiot, Harry,” Hermione insisted, “Look at all you’ve done!”

“It’s embarrassing,” Harry muttered angrily.

“Well, I won’t deny that, no,” Hermione sighed. She looked over at Neville and I, who were quiet, simply walking hand-in-hand through th corridor next to them.

“What’s up with you two? And what was with that nonsense about prophecies yesterday?” she asked sharply.

Neville and I looked at each other for a brief moment, silently communicating.

“Nothing, Hermione,” I finally muttered, “We were just thinking about something.”

“Alright,” Hermione frowned, “Well, if you’ve solved some sort of mystery, you’re honor bound to tell us, you know –“

“Yeah. We know,” Neville acknowledged. Blue had been nuzzling up against my legs ever since yesterday, trying to get me to be cheerier. I sighed and leaned down to pet her as we walked, but my heart wasn’t in it. Frankly, I didn’t know if my heart could truly be in _much_ at this point. It was like I was a second-year again, hearing all this information for the first time – I was overwhelmed and terrified and heartbroken. But, at least, this time someone knew with me – somehow, having Neville comfort me and having Neville to comfort made it _slightly_ better.

We went into Umbridge’s classroom. None of us, as always, felt like rebelling. It was also the first day of term, so perhaps the D.A. members present wouldn’t either. Blue, who hadn’t taken long to learn to be quiet in her hatred of Umbridge (after the first time she put a silencing charm on her, which had distressed her immensely,) quietly sat next to my desk. Her eyes, however, never left Umbridge; she watched her keenly, like a snake watching a mouse, or a blue heron watching a toad.

“Welcome back, class!” Umbridge greeted, trying to seem cheerful as she always did, but since we were the fifth year Gryffindors, she clearly had an underlying tone of loathing in her words.

“Welcome back, Professor Umbridge,” we all responded dully, in unison.

“Please turn to chapter twenty-five. Wands away. There will be no need to talk,” she explained calmly. I muttered softly under my breath, so low that only Neville next to me could hear, “No need to think, more like.”

He snorted equally softly; if Umbridge noticed, she made no comment. We continued to read silently for a long time, apparently no one wanting to cause a stir so early in the term.

“You all are very quiet,” Umbridge commented after a while. It _had_ been ages since we had had a Defense class without incident.

No one responded; we all kept our eyes glued to the dull, biased pages of the textbook.

“Well, Mr. Weasley? Have anything to say?” Umbridge scoffed quietly. Ron looked up at her, clearly trying to block the hatred in his eyes.

“No, professor,” he answered quietly.

“Mr. Thomas? You usually are a fountain of insight,” Umbridge smiled much too sweetly again. Dean shifted angrily in his seat. He and Seamus still weren’t talking.

“No, ma’am,” he insisted, keeping his eyes glued to his book.

“And Miss Patil? Nothing from you, either?” Umbridge asked almost _gleefully_.

“Just trying to read the chapter, professor,” Parvati whispered quietly.

“Well!” Umbridge beamed happily, “It _is_ refreshing to see all of you have stopped your ridiculous nonsense from last term. Let us all hope for a new term that will be much more _orderly_ and _controlld_ than the last.”

I looked up at Umbridge for a brief moment, glaring at her from undr my eyelids. I then turned back to the book, willing myself to focus on it instead of her. If I had one more explosion in her class, I could probably be expelled – and that would help absolutely no one at all.

We managed to all get through the class without further incident; as we all left, I turned to Hermione, suddenly remembering a question I should have already asked.

“How did things with Ginny and Harry go?” I asked softly. Harry was turning away to go down another corridor; he wanted to quickly eat lunch before Occlumency.

“Well… Ginny wasn’t _pleased_ , to say the least,” Hermione sighed heavily, “But, she did calm down when Harry explained what he was going through, and how he didn’t want to talk to really anyone for most of the Holiday.”

“Did you explain to Ginny that he… _did_ … talk to you?” I hissed under my breath. Hermione looked at me with an intense amount of sheepishness.

“Oh come on, Hermione,” I groaned, “You have to talk to her about that. She’s your friend, too, and she has every right to know that you and Harry talked through his issues over the Holiday.”

“I don’t see why she has to know –“

“Because, whether you like it or not, she _is_ his girlfriend, and he’s been keeping things from her, and you two are _friends_ ,” I growled, “ _Good_ friends. Not telling her would make you a _bad_ friend.”

“All’s fair in love and war,” Hermione retorted grimly.

“Yeah that’s the most bullshit thing I’ve ever heard,” I snorted angrily, “You are going to talk to her tonight, after dinner. Harry won’t even be around. Got it?”

“Got it,” Hermione muttered angrily.

Dinner passed relatively quietly; that evening I had both research and remedial with McGonagall, and so I went to her office quietly and quickly after eating, still quite low after my realizations with Neville the day before.

“What bee is in your bonnet, Maggie?” McGonagall asked lightly after I silently began work on diagrams of the intelligence conundrum. I shrugged wordlessly, still working on a complex diagram of the brain, trying to figure out what differed between the _Velociraptor_ one and the one of a raven.

“I would have thought, now that you and Longbottom have stopped beating around the bush, as it were, you’d be ecstatic,” McGonagall continued.

“I am,” I answered honestly, “I just have… other emotional motivators.”

McGonagall sighed heavily, “Like what?”

I continued sketching out the various centers of the brain, shrugging my shoulders silently.

“Come on, now. I’m supposed to be counseling you as well as teaching you,” McGonagall sighed. I looked up at her and frowned.

“I think my brain has gotten me into too much trouble,” I muttered irritably. McGonagall looked at me in confusion.

“Whatever do you mean?”

“I mean, I think I’ve figured out some things, that I shouldn’t have figured out, because frankly, I can’t deal with them,” I muttered sadly.

“Care to tell me exactly _what_ you have figured out?” McGonagall demanded sharply. I looked up at her and frowned.

“I don’t want to get into trouble,” I muttered quietly.

“Why on earth would you get into trouble for figuring out things that are upsetting to you? If anything, hopefully, I can deny them, and assist you in returning to a more cheerful mindset,” McGonagall rolled her eyes.

“I’m pretty sure I’m right… and well… I could get into trouble because this is Maggie-and-friends-have-figured-out-things-they-shouldn’t-know knowledge. Like, first year sorcerer’s stone, or second year chamber of secrets knowledge. This is… this is something that I was protected from for a reason, and I have no one to blame for figuring it out but myself,” I murmured quietly.

“Maggie,” McGonagall began, standing in front of me and looking down at me kindly, “Maggie, you and your friends have dealt with many a burden that very few people your age could deal with. At this point, you solving some sort of mystery – figuring anything out, really – no longer angers me. Frankly, if you and your friends do not figure out a mystery at hand, I worry for the safety of us all.”

I snorted with laughter, looking up at her in amusement.

“So,” she paused, looking at me earnestly, “Care to tell me what is on your mind?”

I sighed heavily again, “Well… Snape might have told me things that he shouldn’t have when I was a second year.”

“Such as?” McGonagall frowned angrily, her lips pressed into the thin line I was so very familiar with at this point.

“He… he told me… that the only person who could defeat Voldemort… was Harry,” I muttered softly.

McGonagall groaned very loudly. I looked up at her again desperately.

“He should _decidedly_ not have told you that – and so young – but why is it bothering you now?” McGonagall frowned.

“Right before term ended, Dad told Harry, me, and the others about the old crowd; what everyone was like during and before the war. He talked about how Harry’s parents – and, I’ll add for clarity, Neville’s parents – had gone into hiding. I was confused, so I took him aside, where none of them could hear, and asked if it had to do with the fact Snape had told me,” I paused, “He affirmed that a prophecy had been made that said that the person who would defeat Voldemort would be born, and would… and would fit a set of conditions.”

“I do not remember the exact prophecy, but Dumbledore did, at one point, tell me of this, yes,” McGonagall acknowledged, “And why Harry had to be kept safe.”

“Yeah,” I responded eagerly, “Well, my dad told me about how the prophecy _could_ have applied to either Harry or Neville… but then when Voldemort chose Harry that night and attacked him, that meant he essentially chose Harry as the one who could defeat him…”

“Yes, that is what Dumbledore said as well,” McGonagall frowned.

“Well,” I paused, “I told Neville, because it came up in conversation – and we have no secrets from one another now. None. And we talked for a very long time, you see. We figured… a lot of things. We realized it made no sense that Voldemort went after Harry as a baby. If Voldemort had truly known that his choice would mark whoever would be the one to defeat him, it would have made more sense for Voldemort to wait – to see which of them would be easier to face. We figured… like us… Voldemort didn’t know the whole prophecy. He was missing information. He didn’t know that his choice had a huge part of what happened – he only knew that one of the two of them was his nemesis, and he decided who he feared more, and went after him…”

“Alright,” McGonagall sighed, “Please keep in mind, Maggie, that I don’t know a lot of this information either.”

“Yes, I know,” I acknowledged, “Anyway… Well, we’re both… much too curious about whatever it is the Order is guarding. We figured – that’s why I told him about the prophecy – that Voldemort was after information. Information he _needed_. And it was the sort of information he wouldn’t trust a Death Eater to try and get – that’s why he possessed his snake. And it was important that he try and get the information himself… because we figured it was information that was very personal to him, very _need_ by him. And, if he was possessing his snake to assess the situation, it was information somewhere that he couldn’t go to, without revealing himself… somewhere where there were a lot of wizards.”

“Continue,” McGonagall sighed heavily.

“Well, we then realized – that if Voldemort didn’t know the whole prophecy – he probably wanted to hear the rest, right? It probably contains details about how one will defeat the other, or why Harry is the one who could defeat him – and Voldemort _needs_ that info. He’s spent the past five… well, if you include when Harry was a baby, fifteen… years trying to beat Harry and has failed miserably every time. Voldemort wants that prophecy, that’s what the Order is guarding, it’s what he needs most right now,” I muttered softly.

“Alright,” McGonagall looked reluctant to confirm any of this, if she could.

“Well, we tried to figure out where prophecies were held – so we asked Hermione, and she said the Ministry of Magic, which fit perfectly with our scenario. But we were so confused. Why hadn’t Dumbledore told Harry any of this? Why wasn’t he equppping Harry himself with knowledge of the prophecy? I mean, Harry would need to know about it, too, to defeat Voldemort, right? And that just… got us on a tirade about Dumbledore, and every thing he refused to explain to us. Like how Voldemort transferred powers to Harry – how does that even happen? Is it a part of Voldemort attached to Harry? How did the rebounded curse _from_ Harry not _kill_ Voldemort – rebounded curses act the same as their normal counterparts, we saw it happen with Lockhart. That killing curse should have gotten Voldemort – but instad it just killed his body and made part of him attach to Harry? How did that even _happen_? And how can Harry defeat Voldemort, anyway – what power does he have that will let him do it? Is it their mental link? And, why has Harry been safe all the time we were in the Nest? I mean, he hasn’t been safe since we startd Hogwarts, but when we were at the Nest, no one ever attacked us – and there wasn’t a secret-keeper or anything, we were _very_ easily found. So how did we not get attacked? Almost instantly after Voldemort died, Neville’s parents were tortured into insanity – and we _had_ Harry – how did we get off from that?” I said all of this very quickly, feeling terrified, running my fingers through my ponytail.

McGonagall looked at me in what could only be shock. She didn’t say anything, perhaps too afraid to.

“And why, _why_ , isn’t Dumbledore saying any of this to Harry? He needs to know,” I begged quietly, “He _needs_ to. And… well… that’s why Neville and I have both been depressed all day.”

McGonagall sighed heavily, rubbing her temple with her fingers for a long moment. She was deep in thought, not saying anything, or even acknowledging my concerns as she thought them through.

“I do not have many answers for you,” McGonagall finally said quietly, “Frankly, Dumbledore has not told me much of this. I do not know what to say to many of these concerns. I can only say that Harry, for all he has done here at Hogwarts, might not be ready for this sort of burden. Look at how it has affected you and Neville – it is debilitating overwhelming. I’m not saying Harry should never find out… frankly, he should find out soon. But, I’m saying that I understand why Dumbledore would be reluctant to part with such information.”

I nodded in agreement, sighing heavily, “We figured as much at the time.”

“I also _implore_ you to not do anything reckless. The prophecy is well protected; the Order _is_ handling the situation, I can assure you,” McGonagall continued.

“Yeah… we weren’t really aiming at protecting it, more… hearing what it has to say,” I muttered softly.

“Well, Dumbldore will tell you – tell _Harry_ – when he feels it is time,” McGonagall responded firmly, “You are not to go and try and take the prophecy, do you understand?”

“Yes, professor,” I answered calmly.

“Now, Maggie… I would like to say… that I understand what you are feeling right now. Feeling this afraid and worried for your friends, realizing the burdens placed on you at such a young age… it is very overwhelming. What you are feling is completely understandable,” McGonagall continued.

“Okay,” I sighed, “I feel like… I should be braver…”

“You and your friends are _already_ uncommonly brave,” McGonagall paused, “You have done more in your five years hear than most wixen accomplish in their entire lifetimes. You have defeated You-Know-Who, conquered basilisks, freed innocent men, and dealt with the looming threat of evil and war over our heads. You have even dealt with… oppressive... governments. You still have a long journey ahead of all of you, but if there was ever a group of wixen I felt could do it, it’s you four – and your other friends.”

“I still don’t know how I’ll deal with it if… if I lose him,” I mumbled quietly.

“Well, that’s not something you really can know before it happens,” McGonagall agreed, “Sometimes, grief is just something we have to face when it comes. Harry has a lot of danger facing him in the future, but with you and your friends helping him, he has a fighting chance. You just have to remember that.”

“I’ll probably die, though,” I muttered softly. It was a conviction I couldn’t quite shake.

“Maggie,” McGonagall responded sharply. I looked up at her nervously.

“Regardless of the validity of that statement, you _cannot_ be in that mindset. It is dangerous. It leads to self-destructive behavior – something you’ve already had your fair share of experience of. You understand that it’s not a good path. Also, it means that you will have trouble fighting as hard. And you _need_ to fight hard. You have a lot ahead of you, and you need every ounce of your strength – every bit of your determination – and at least a _little_ hope for you to get through it,” McGonagall urged.

“Easier said than done,” I responded dully.

“Think about Neville for me for a minute,” McGonagall demanded. A smile broke out on my face in spite of myself.

“Think about a future with him,” she furthered. I did. I pictured living with him – I dunno if we’d ever get married, given our queerness and general dislike of societally-sanctioned purveyors of social inequality. Still, I pictured us living together, in a small flat in Hogsmeade – after all, we were professors, and we had to be close to the school… I pictured a child or two, as adorable as he was when he was a baby… I pictured us growing old together, sitting in a cabin in the woods, playing chess and enjoying the outdoors…

I flushed madly when I looked up at McGonagall, looking away in pure embarrassment.

“Isn’t that something worth fighting for, Maggie?” McGonagall asked calmly.

I looked at her again, swallowing heavily, “Y… Yeah.”

“Just remember that picture every time you have doubts about your own ability to survive. You _will_ survive, I know it, and if you do, you can have the peace and happiness you just pictured… and the future you want, because you would have ensured your ability to define it,” McGonagall finished.

I smiled at her weakly. Her words were extremely comforting.

“Thank you, Professor. I really appreciate it.”

“Of course,” she nodded, “This is my job.”

“I’ll try to keep this all in mind, now. It should help…”

“I think so,” McGonagall agreed, “But please, keep talking to me as much as you need about this over the coming weeks.”

“I will,” I agreed sincerely.

“Good. Now, let’s practice summoning charms…”

After a much too long evening of practicing one of my least favorite spells, I looked up to see Neville running towards me, looking panicked.

“What – what’s wrong?” I asked, terrified.

“Hermione – common room – come!” Neville urged, grabbing me by the hand and pulling me down the corridors, down to the Gryffindor Common Room, as fast as we could. I went inside and the sight that greeted me was both alarming and hilarious due to its complte and utter _insanity_.

There, rolling around on the floor, fighting each other, and even pulling on each other’s hair, were Hermione and Ginny. Much of Gryffindor House had gathered around to cheer on the fighting; Harry still appeard to be at Occlumency.

“I tried to stop them – they won’t – I couldn’t get them to –“ Neville panted.

“Alright,” I groaned loudly, walking up to them. I narrowly avoided one of them running into my legs and grabbed Hermione’s hair – it was the easiest thing to grab. Ginny’s hair, which was much shorter and thinner, was not as easily handled – but I managed to catch one of her long and slender arms. I pulled the two of them up off of the floor roughly. I was not in the mood to be gentle with either of them.

“Oi!” Ginny shouted furiously.

“Ow!” Hermione cried angrily.

“Alright, you wankers, come on,” I pulled both of them to the portrait hole forcefully. They protested loudly behind me but I kept going through the hallway, dragging them far away enough from the Common Room that no one would dare come and follow us. I then dropped both of them, staring at them furiously.

“What the bloody hell, Maggie?” Ginny hissed angrily.

“Why’d you do that for?” Hermione growled, massagin her scalp.

“Yeah, I know already that you want _her_ to win, so I don’t see why you –“ Ginny muttered mutinously.

“Oh please, stop _whining_ you baby –“ Hermione retorted.

“Shut. The fuck. Up,” I growled at both of them. They both knew about my dragon nature – it was hard to let Ginny into the Maggie-had-a-nervous-breakdown club without doing so – and so were both immediately startled and terrified by my reaction.

“Alright, you’re both being ridiculous. First off, the person in question is my brother – he is not an _object_ to be _won_. Stop sounding like misogynistic, white, immature, heterosexual, cisgender men,” I continued to growl, looking at both of them angrily. Ginny flushed with embarrassment and looked down at her shoes.

“Second off,” I continued angrily, “I have only one thing I am rooting for in this entire situation. I fucking want _everyone to be happy._ I want Ginny to be happy, I want Hermione to be happy, but most of all, I want _Harry_ to be happy. So I am rooting for the option where _all of those things happen_. Understand?”

“Yes,” Hermione and Ginny muttered in irritation.

“Now,” I paused, “Ginny. Hermione and Harry _did_ spend a lot of time talking over the Holiday. Harry was going through a lot of stuff, you know that. Now, should he have written you? Oh yes, definitely. It was his mistake not to.”

Ginny muttered mutinously under her breath.

“But Hermione did _force_ him to talk. With her _presence_. In _person_. And _that_ was a miracle,” I emphasized clearly, “I don’t really know how someone could have forced him to write to you.”

Ginny sighed heavily, looking up at the ceiling angrily.

“Now,” I paused, pursing my lips together, “Does Hermione have feelings for Harry? You bet your ass she does. But you _know_ this. This is not a _surprise_. And she’s had feelings for him for ages, this isn’t _news_.”

Ginny glared at Hermione out of the corner of her eye, and she glared back.

“However, Hermione,” I looked at Hermione intensely, “Understands that Ginny is our _friend_ , and to have Harry cheat on her would be a _terrible, horrible_ thing to do.”

Hermione sighed heavily, looking anywhere but at Ginny. However, after a short time, she nodded in agreement.

“So if Harry cheats on you, Ginny, it is because _he_ is being a scumbag, not _Hermione_ ,” I continued forcefully, “The only person to blame if that situation occurs is _Harry_ , because Hermione has _just acknowledged_ that she would not intentionally start that situation.”

“She could try to steal him –“

“Again, my brother is not an _object_ ,” I sighed deeply, “And if Hermione and he were to strike up a romance while the two of you were together, I repeat, she would want you to know _immediately_ ; only Harry could be the one to hide that from you, and I frankly doubt that he would. So, Hermione and Harry did nothing romantic over the Holiday.”

Ginny sighed heavily before muttering, “ _Fine_.”

“Furthermore, if Harry were to leave you, for anyone – including Hermione – it wouldn’t be because there was sabotage, or subterfuge, or dirty play. It would be because Harry no longer had feelings for you, or felt like your relationship couldn’t work out. Do you understand?” I insisted.

Ginny looked at her shoes again before looking up at me, “Yeah.”

“Good,” I paused, “Hermione does not want to be Harry’s side bird. You can trust in that, can’t you?”

Ginny snorted, but nodded in agreement. Hermione sneered at her angrily.

“Now, _both of you_ ,” I sighed, folding my arms tightly across my chest, “You are both being _absolutely ridiculous_ , immature, and frankly, you’re acting like embarassments to our gender.”

“Hey!” Hermione shouted.

“Oi!” Ginny repeated.

“Yeah, I meant that. You’re acting like idiots over a _boy_. I don’t care that he’s handsome – I suppose, I mean he’s my bro, I try to not think of him that way if I can help it – brave, strong, a good Quidditch Player, good in general, compassionate, a brilliant duelist – I don’t give a friggen _crap_ about _any_ of those things. He is a boy, and he is not worth anyone’s tars or anger or the destruction of any friendships. Friendships – especially in these _trying times_ ,” I emphasized calmly, “Are extremely important to maintain.”

Hermione and Ginny both flushed in embarrassment, muttering under their breaths.

“You two have a great friendship. Ginny, how many times have you told me how luck you feel to have _both_ me _and_ Hermione as role models?” I asked calmly.

She paused for a long time before reluctantly replying, “A… a lot.”

“Exactly. And Hermione, how many times have you admired Ginny’s passion, her energy, and her magical abilities?” I looked at Hermione earnestly, raising my eyebrows as high as they could do.

“A lot,” Hermione muttered angrily.

“Exactly. You two admire each other. There is absolutely no need for either of you to throw away your friendship – your _bond_ – over the fact that you both happen to fancy the same boy. The ocean is huge, and there are plenty of fish to catch – neither of your lives will be over if _neither_ of you end up with him,” I snapped, “Making this a _ridiculous_ thing to ruin a friendship over.”

“Easy for you to say,” Ginny muttered angrily.

“You’re the one who won’t stop talking about how Neville is your _soulmate_ ,” Hermione muttered mutinously.

“I’ll admit, I’m being moderately hypocritical,” I shrugged, “But when Ginny and Neville were dating, and I realized I loved him, did I act differently towards her? Did I hate her, or yell at her, or attack her in any way, or try to sabotage their relationship?”

After a long, reluctant pause, both answered, “No,” in unison.

“Exactly!” I shouted, “Because I _value our friendship_. And I know perfectly well that you both value each other’s. The only difference here is that Ginny and Neville were decidedly dating casually – while that might not be the cause for Ginny and Harry. And I get that that’s a big difference. I completely understand. But it doesn’t change the underlying theme – for all I knew at the time, Ginny and Neville could have realized their deep, passionate love for the rest of their lives. I still wouldn’t have attacked Ginny, or ditched her as a friend.”

“Yeah,” Hermione sighed.

“Okay,” Ginny acknowledged.

“So, how are you both going to compose yourselves from now on?” I asked calmly.

“I will stop blaming Ginny for the fact that she and Harry are dating,” Hermione sighed softly.

“I will stop assuming that Hermione is trying to… seduce Harry away from me… and would lie about it,” Ginny muttered equally quietly.

“Good,” I nodded in satisfaction, “Now, come on, the both of you – let’s go back to the Common Room. And I don’t want to hear another _word_ of this again. In dark times such as these – with so much hanging over our heads, threatening us at every moment – it’s more important than ever that we _stick together_ , and have each other’s backs.”

“You’re right,” Hermione mumbled quietly.

“I’m sorry, Hermione,” Ginny sighed.

“I’m sorry, too,” she nodded, “I really am.”

The two of them hugged, and I sighed in heavy relief.

“Wonderful. Glad to know you both still have your presence of mind,” I muttered angrily, “I was worried for a second.”

Ginny laughed, which eased me even more.

“Can’t believe you both had a _catfight_ in the _Common Room_. I mean, honestly, look at yourselves,” I rolled my eyes.

“It was a moment of weakness,” Hermione sighed.

“She told me how she and Harry did talk the whole Holiday and I just lost it,” Ginny muttered.

“Blame Harry for that! He was being a prat, not writing to you!” I groaned.

“Yeah, you’re right,” she agreed, “it’s hard to be mad at him, though, with all this shite going on around us.”

“Then vent your anger on a pillow, don’t take it out on Hermione!” I laughed.

“I know, I know,” Ginny acknowledged as we entered the Common Room again. Neville was waiting for us at the table, and his expression at our peaceful entrance was one of pure relief.

“Oh thank Merlin,” Neville sighed, “I was worried someone would end up eaten.”

“Maggie calmed us down,” Ginny smiled slightly.

“She actually played the role of peacemaker quite well,” Hermione frowned.

“It was bizarre,” Ginny agreed.

“I am surprised she didn’t start screaming at us, but she managed to keep her cool,” Hermione commented.

“It was a really different show of character... honestly… it was like she was a completely different person….” Ginny looked at me in mock-suspicion.

“We should probably make sure she isn’t someone else, but Polyjuice potion,” Hermione agreed.

“Alright, enough of that,” I rolled my eyes, “Are you both fine enough, now?”

They nodded in unison. Neville sighed, once again, in deep relief.

In that moment, the door to the Common Room opened. Harry walked inside, but he looked positively ill – his skin was pasty white, like he had the flu; he seemed to be sweating all over; and he seemed to be shaking all over.

“Harry? What’s wrong?” I asked in worry, “Are you all right?”

“Yeah… I… erm… not really,” Harry acknowledged, “It was… it wasn’t fun.”

“I can see that,” Ginny frowned, walking up to him and touching his forehead with her hand, “You’re feverish!”

“Yeah,” Harry muttered softly, “That really took a beating out of me…”

“Well, it’s _hard_ to have your mind invaded like that,” Hermione responded matter-of-factly, “Attacked over and over again by a person who, on record, does not like you much – anyon would feel terrible.”

Harry shiverd and shook leaning against one of the chairs. Neville looked at him in worry.

“Mate, maybe you should go to bed… work on your homework tomorrow or sommat… you really do not look well,” He sighed.

“My mind feels very vulnerable, though,” Harry managed to choke out, “I’m worried if I go to bed… he’ll get inside my mind.”

The rest of us all looked at each other in worry. Hermione even started wringing her hands.

“On the one hand, you clearly need sleep. On the other, you have a point,” I acknowledged, “You just have to decide if you can keep staying awake for a while.

Harry looked like he was going to collapse then and there. He leaned against Ginny weakly, closing his eyes and sighing heavily.

“All right,” he muttered quietly, “I guess I’ll go to bed early.”

“Just be careful,” Ginny urged.

“Did Snape give you any advice?” Neville asked.

“Just… to clear my mind of all emotion… before I went to bed,” Harry explained calmly.

“Do that, then,” I urged, “ _Please_ , Harry. You don’t want Voldemort to possess you.”

“I’ll try. That’s why this was so _hard_ ,” Harry grumbled in annoyance, “It’s hard to empty your mind of anger when your least favorite professor is prodding in your private memoris over and over again –“

“Yes, well, right now you’re so tired and ill you should just be able to fall asleep,” Hermion nodded, “Just try to think about things that are emotionless… things you literally are neutral towards.”

“Yeah, okay,” Harry sighed. He briefly kissed Ginny – clearly unwilling to make a big show of it when he was still feeling ill – and hobbled up to the boy’s dormitory. I looked over at the others worriedly.

“It’ll be better next time,” Hermione urged, “He’ll get used to it.”

“Or, it’ll just get worse,” Neville muttered. I sighed heavily, looking at the staircase nervously.

“Someone should check on him. Make sure he doesn’t have another vision,” I muttered softly.

“But who?” Hermione frowned.

“I can… go up there,” Neville agreed relucatantly.

“But Nev, you’ve been so much happier since you haven’t to live in a place marked ‘Boys’…” my voice trialed off in uncertainty.

“Yeah, and I’ll be even _more_ happy knowing Harry is okay. I’m not going to _live_ there, for goodness’ sake, I’m just going to check on him,” Neville shrugged.

“Alright,” Hermione urged, “Go, then, please.”

Neville followed Harry up the stairs quickly, and I turned to the other three nervously.

“Do you think Snape could be torturing Harry on purpose?” Ginny asked softly.

“I doubt it,” I sighed, “Dumbleodre trusts him.”

“And if we can’t trust Dumbledore, we’re all doomed,” Hermione agreed.

“I just don’t know why _Dumbledore_ can’t teach him,” Ginny harrumphed, “He’s _Dumbledore_. He _must_ b good at it. He could definitely teach him.”

“We think… he’s worried Harry will be possessed by Voldemort, and then he’d be vulnerable,” Hermione admitted softly.

“That’s bullshit!” Ginny shouted, “Dumbledore should be looking after Harry, making sure he’s okay – not protecting his own skin…”

“Yeah,” I agreed wholeheartedly, “But who ever actually knows what’s going on in Dumbledore’s head?”

“A question for the ages,” Hermione sighed.

I looked over at the boy’s staircase in worry, “I wonder… Neville…”

Hermione and Ginny frowned in unison in response. Soon after that, though, he came running downstairs, looking nervous.

“It happened again,” Neville sighed. Hermione gasped in fright.

“Who was attacked?” Ginny demanded, looking terrified.

“No one… at least, that’s not what happened – Harry just experienced an emotion again – Voldemort’s happy about something,” Neville groaned, “He’s happier than he’s been in fourteen years… since Harry defeated him… that’s how happy he is…”

“Oh fuck,” I whispered.

“What could have happened?” Hermione groaned.

“We probably won’t find out,” Ginny muttered angrily, “Between the Order’s bloody secrecy and the Ministry covering everything up, there’s no way we’ll know.”

“We’ll have to ask,” I stated firmly, “First thing tomorrow. I’ll corner McGonagall.”

“Good,” Hermione agreed, “How was Harry?”

“Well, I helped him into bed, didn’t I?” Neville sighed, “He needs to rest, I see no way around that… but there’s no way he could have cleared his mind of emotion… he looked so shaken…”

Hermione frowned, “We’re going to have to help him. He _needs_ to master this.”

“Agreed,” I nodded, feeling exceptionally fearful. It was clear Harry needed to master Occlumency; I just didn’t know how possible it was with Snape as his teacher.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, please, please comment! Thanks!


	71. Chapter Seventy: January 14 - 17, 1996, Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Things are not always 
> 
> Things are not always 
> 
> What they seem 
> 
> They don't turn out always 
> 
> Don't quite turn out always 
> 
> How we think 
> 
> Will we be ready? 
> 
> Will we be ready? 
> 
> I'm dying to know what's in your head 
> 
> I'm dying to know how it all got in there 
> 
> I'm dying to know 
> 
> To help make some sense of it all 
> 
> I'm dying to know, tell me it's my fault?" 
> 
> ~ Imogen Heap, "2 - 1".

Chapter 70: January 14 – 17, 1996, Hogwarts

I woke up the next morning looking forward to a much better day; or, at least, a slightly better one. I leaned over and gently shook Neville, hoping to wake him up early enough for a bit of snogging before breakfast.

Neville made a grunt of annoyance as I moved him back and forth by holding onto his arm. I moved my face down to his neck and started kissing there, trying to get him to move or wake up. Neville moaned very softly, making my fingers tingle in that good way again. He turned around and groggily opened his eyes, looking up at me and smiling slightly.

“Good morning sleepyhead,” I greeted, beaming at him. Neville’s smile grew wider and he pulled me in for a long kiss by gently holding the back of my head, his fingers tangled up in my hair. We kept kissing each other slowly; our lips moving against each other’s delicately as I reached my hand up to gently stroke his cheek. His hands moved down to my waist and held me loosely as I steadily shifted to lying on top of him again, my body lined up with his as much as it could be – my torso was slightly shorter than his, after all, and my legs very much so. He sighed into my mouth and that sigh was followed by his tongue, gently running along my lips. I happily opened my mouth and greeted his tongue with mine, massaging it and running mine along his. He moaned softly and I ran my free hand down his arm, gently tracing my fingertips across his skin.

He managed to pull back from me, then, looking at me lovingly and breathing somewhat heavily. I grinned at him, moving slightly with joy on top of him. He grinned in response, his whole face flushed.

“Good morning to you too,” he laughed softly, giving me another, brief kiss. I then got up from the bed and scurried around to hug him, happily resting my head on his chest.

“We need to go to class,” Neville chuckled, pulling me back from the hug and looking at me earnestly.

“Yes, but have you considered… _not_ going to class?” I suggested, smiling.

“The only reason we’re back here and not in the flat in London or at Headquarters is so we can get our education, you _know_ that,” Neville shook his head in bemusement, “I honestly would never come back here and deal with the Umbitch again if I could.”

“Fine,” I sighed in agreement, “I just don’t like it when we stop kissing.”

Neville smiled cheekily, “So you don’t like talking to me?”

“Oh I _love_ talking to you. If I could do both at the same time I decidedly would,” I reassured, “I guess I don’t like it when we aren’t directly interacting with each other… touching each other…” I squeezed my arms that were around his waist tighter.

Neville wiggled his eyebrows and leaned in to give me another long kiss before pulling back. I looked up at him with what I hoped were the most lustful eyes I could muster.  Neville swallowed heavily, his pupils dilating slightly, as he mad a move to lean in and kiss me again. I closed my eyes in response, but the kiss never came.

“We’re never going to get to class if we carry on like this all day,” Neville whispered softly against my lips, his only a centimeter away from mine. I opened my eyes and saw he was smirking at me.

“ _Fine_. I’m going to go shower,” I stuck my tongue out at him, walking towards the bathroom, “Unless –“

“I will not be joining you at this time,” Neville laughed, “You know it’s not time yet, Mags.”

“I do,” I admitted, beaming at him as I walked into the doorway of the bathroom, “Doesn’t mean I can’t _tease_ you, though.”

Neville groaned in what I could only assume was something akin to sexual frustration as I went into the bathroom and closed the door behind me.

He had managed to calm down, however, by the time we made our way down to the Great Hall. He simply held my hand and we smiled happily at each other, him leaning down and pressing his forehead against mine.

“I love you,” he murmured softly, before we pulled away to actually look where we were going.

“I love you,” I affirmed, squeezing his hand as tightly as I could. We walked up to the table and sat across from Harry and Hermione, who were already there and eating.

“Feeling better?” I asked Harry kindly, smiling at him.

“Only a little,” Harry admitted, sighing slightly, “It’s going to take a lot for me to get used to this. And I wish I knew _why_ Voldemort was happy last night.”

“I don’t suppose we could ask on of the professors?” Hermione sighed, frowning up at the staff table. Owls began raining in then from the outside, and I waited for Darwin to do his usual routine of grabbing food and then flying off again. He did so, just as another owl flew by and dropped the _Daily Prophet_ onto Hermione’s plate.

“Doubtful there’s much in there,” Neville muttered sadly. He was feeding Blue next to him bacon idly.

“Neville, you shouldn’t do that, we’re trying to train her,” I sighed in annoyance, taking the plate of bacon far away from the both of them. They turned together and Neville pouted at me, and Blue hissed at me expectantly.

“ _No_ ,” I reaffirmed, snorting, “Honestly –“

“Oh!” Hermione suddenly shouted, making the rest of us jump in shock.

“What is it?” Harry asked worriedly. Hermione put the newspaper on the table and pointed at the front pag. Ten black-and-white photographs filled the whole of it, nine evidentally wizards, and one a witch. Some of the people were jeering, others were tapping on th picture frames, looking angry. Each picture was captiond with a name and the crime for which the person had been sent to Azkaban.

 _Antonin Dolohov: Convicted of the brutal murders of Charlotte and Gregory Lee_. His face was long, pale, and twisted, and he had long dark matted hair.

 _Augustus Rookwood: Convicted of leaking Ministry of Magic Secrets to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Namd._ He was a pockmarkd man with greasy hair, leaning against the edge of his picture.

 _Trevor Avery: Convicted of the torture and eventual murder of Benjy Fenwick._ He was a pale skinned man with a lined face and seemingly blonde hair, messier than Harry’s had ever been.

 _Xavier Mulciber: Convicted of utilizing the Imperius Curse on twenty-two Ministry of Magic officials._ He was darkly skinned, with short black hair as a fuzz all over his scalp, and the biggest sneer on his face that I had ever seen.

 _Waulice Jugson: Convicted of the brutal murder of Edgar Bones and his wife and children._ He had pale skin and a bald – or shaved – head, and dark, heavy-lidded eyes. He seemed to have no facial expression at all.

 _Nicoli Travers: Convicted of the murder of Marlene McKinnon and the rest of the McKinnon family._ He had tanned skin and a long, hooked nose, and hair drawn back into a ponytail. He appeared to be laughing.

 _Johnathan Scabior: Convicted of the torture and murder of seventeen muggles._ He was very pale, with messy, long, matted hair and a missing tooth. He was grinning in a way that made me feel violated and attacked without him even being present.

 _Rabastan Lestrange: Convicted of the torture and permanent incapacitation of Frank and Alice Longbottom._ He was pale, with short dark hair, and heavy-lidded eyes. He appeared to have no emotion, and stared blankly out of the picture.

 _Rodolphus Lestrange: Convicted of the torture and permanent incapacitation of Frank and Alice Longbottom._ He looked very similar to his brother, but he was grinning, revealing what I hoped to be artificially-pointed teeth. 

_Bellatrix Lestrange: Convicted of the torture and permanent incapacitation of Frank and Alice Longbottom._ She had sallow, pale skin, with long unkept and straggly dark hair. She had heavily lidded eye sand an arrogant, disdainful smile on her mouth.

I swallowed heavily, looking over at Neville. His face had appeared to have drained of all color.

“Guys, read the article,” Hermione hissed angrily. I turned back and read the headline, swallowing heavily at the sight of it.

**MASS BREAKOUT FROM AZKABAN MINISTRY FEARS BLACK IS “RALLYING POINT” FOR OLD DEATH EATERS**

**The Ministry of Magic announced late last night that there has been a mass breakout from Azkaban.**

**Speaking to reporters in his private office, Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, confirmed that ten high-security prisoners scaped in th eearly hours of yesterday evening, and that he had already informed the Muggle Prime Minister of the dangerous nature of thse individuals.**

**“We find ourselves, most unfortunately, in the same position we were two and a half years ago when the murderer Sirius Black escaped,” said Fudge last night. “Nor do we think the two breakouts are unrelated. An escape of this magnitude suggests outside help, and we must remember that Black, as the first person ver to break out of Azkaban, would be ideally placed to help others follow in his footsteps. We think it likely that these individuals, who include Black’s cousin, Bellatrix Lestrange, have rallied around Black as their leader. We are, however, doing all we can to round up the criminals and beg the magical community to remain alert and cautious. On no account should any of thse individuals be approached.**

I looked over at Neville again in worry; he had buried his face in his hands and was shaking somewhat. I could only assume he was crying and I wrapped both my arms tightly around him, holding him as close to me as I could as he sobbed.

“I don’t believe this,” Harry snarled, “Fudge is blaming this on _Sirius_?”

“What other options does he have?” Hermione sighed, “He can hardly say, ‘Sorry everyone, Dumbledore warned me this might happen, the Azkaban guards have joined Lord Voldemort, and now Voldemort’s worst supporters have broken out too.’ I mean, he’s spent a good six months telling everyone you and Dumbledore are liars, hasn’t he?”

“What I don’t understand,” I snapped softly, “Is how anyone could still _believe_ him. This doesn’t make any sense. Why would Sirius go back to Azkaban to free these guys and risk getting caught? If he didn’t go back on his own, who could he have sent in his stead to break them out of Azkaban for him that the Dementors wouldn’t pounce on? It’s one thing for one person to slip out – but ten? Dementors would notice that. And then let’s say that Fudge admits this is fishy, and says the Dementors have joined forces with Black. Well why the hell would they do that now? Why wouldn’t they have joined with him before, when he broke out? Why wouldn’t Sirius have aided the others in getting out right after he had? The only logical conclusion is that Voldemort _is_ back, and has successfully persuaded the Dementors to switch sides. But, you know, Fudge will carry on with his little _delusions_ …”

“I think that at least some people will see that it’s fishy,” Hermione responded firmly, “I hope that there will be a little more doubt in the Ministry’s position after this.”

Neville was still crying, and I was still holding him, as Hermione continued to read the rest of the paper. Harry looked around wildly and found Sam at the Ravenclaw table; he got up and immediately walked over to him. Up at the staff table, howver, all the professors appeared to be in deep discussion – Dumbledore and McGonagall looked grave, Sprout was still reading the paper desperately, and Snape was hissing with Flitwick, both looking distressed. Umbridge, however, was tucking in to her bowl of porridge, scowling down at her food.

Harry walked back, Sam accompanying him, looking as white as a sheet.

“I want to see for myself –“ Sam began.

“Oh my god,” Hermione whispered.

“What now?” Harry groaned.

“Its… _horrible_ ,” Hermione moaned, looking shaken. She folded back the newspaper and handed it to the rest of us, now all on the other side of the table. Neville looked up from his hands, wiping off his eyes, his hand shaking like a leaf.

**TRAGIC DEMISE OF MINISTRY OF MAGIC WORKER**

**St. Mungo’s Hospital promised a fully inquiry last night after Ministry of Magic worker Broderick Bode, 49, was discovered dead in his bed, strangled by a potted plant. Healers called to the scene were unavle to revive Mr. Bode, who had been injured in a workplace accident some weeks prior to his death.**

**Healer Miriam Strout, who was in charge of Mr. Bode’s ward at the time of the incident, has been suspended on full pay and was unavailable for comment yesterday, but a spokswizard for the hospital said in a statement, “St. Mungo’s deeply regrets the deth of Mr. Bode, whose health was improving steadily prior to this tragic accident.”**

**“We have strict guidelines on the decorations permitted on our wards but it appears that Healer Strout, busy over the Christmas Period, overlooked the dangers of the plant on Mr. Bode’s bedside table. As his speech and mobility improved, Healer Strout encouraged Mr. Bode to look after the plant himself, unaware that it was not an innocent Flitterbloom, but a cutting of Devil’s Snare, which, when touched by the convalescent Mr. Bode, throttled him instantly.**

**“St. Mungo’s is as yet unable to account for the presence of the plant on the ward and asks any witch or wizard with information to come forward.”**

“Oh my God,” I whispered.

“That’s the man… in the ward,” Neville hiccupped, looking even more shaken now, “We passed him – _multiple_ times –“

“How did none of us recognize it? Devil’s Snare – we should know that instantly!” Hermione whispered in horror.

“We weren’t expecting it,” Harry muttered, his voice hoarse, “And… and whoever sent it… was trying to kill him…”

“This was a clever murder,” I whispered as Sam grabbed the paper to read the article on the front page, “And it was sent anonymously… how is anyone going to find out who sent it?”

“What did he do at the Ministry?” I asked, frowning. Harry and Hermione both shook their heads in silence.

“He was an Unspakable,” Sam commented as he read the other article.

“A what?” Hermione asked.

“Worked in the Department of Mysteries. Aunt Iseul was one, too, before she joined the Order,” Sam muttered, “I knew of him, never met him.”

Neville and I looked at each other in terror. Hermione frowned at us.

“You asked about the Department yesterday –“ Hermione said slowly. I looked over at her and swallowed. Harry stard at us curiously as well as Ginny walked up behind Sam, reading the paper over his shoulder and gasping at the cover.

“Yes, long story,” I responded quickly, “But – it maks sense that this guy was an Unspeakable – what happened to him, anyway? Why was he in the ward?”

“Workplace accident…” Hermione frowned at me, “They didn’t say what.”

I looked over at Neville and he looked at me, his face pale. Harry looked at the two of us curiously.

“What are you two even on about right now?” Harry asked hoarsely.

“We’re trying to figure something out, and we’re not sure if we should tell you yet,” I answered honestly.

“What happned to no secrets?” Harry frowned, looking furious.

“I – I know, Harry, but this is – this is so huge,” I swallowed heavily, “I want to confirm that it’s true before I tell you. I don’t want to tell you something that could – could really harm your mental state without making _sure_ it’s true, and right now it’s all pure conjecture.”

Harry continued to glare at me and I sighed heavily again, feeling horrifically guilty.

“Mate, seriously, we aren’t sure of anything yet. It’s the exact sort of thing that you don’t just _tell_ someone,” Neville urged, “What if – and I mean, this _isn’t_ what it is, okay, I promise, I’m pulling this out of my ass – what if I spent my life thinking my parents were dead, I guess – again, this _isn’t what this is, your parents are dead_ , my god I’m bad at metaphors – but, I thought my parents wre dead, and then you logically reasoned that they were alive and in St. Mungo’s or sommat, but you didn’t _know_ – wouldn’t you wait until you had proof to tell me something like that?”

Harry frowned at him, before sighing, “Yeah, yeah I would.”

“So trust us, Harry. Neville isn’t lying to you – _I’m_ not lying to you – we need to figure it out first,” I promised, “Once we have, we’ll tell you at once.”

“Okay,” Harry nodded. Hermione looked at us skeptically.

“Could you tell _me_?” she asked. Neville and I looked at each other for a long minute.

“We’ve been debating,” I admitted, “This isn’t exactly light information.”

“Well, I can handle it,” Hermione responded urgently.

“And then I’m left out,” Harry grumbled.

“Don’t you want them to confirm it quicker so that you get to find out?” Hermione snapped, “I would.”

“We’ll think about it,” Neville promised, “Seriously.”

Sam was sitting next to us, even though it was the Gryffindor table. Ginny was sitting next to Harry now, her had on his shoulder, looking moderately distraught at the entire series of events.

“How are we going to deal with this, Neville,” Sam said after a while.

Neville shook his head silently; tears were in his eyes again at being reminded about Lestrange’s escape. I hugged him tightly again and refused to let go, burying my face in his arm.

“I… I _may_ have an idea…” Hermione gasped, suddenly standing up, “I’m going… I don’t know if she will, but… well, it’s worth trying… I’ll see you lot later…”

She took off and ran out of the Great Hall, her bag swinging violently on her shoulder as she did so. I looked over at Harry in confusion.

“What was that about?” I frowned. Harry shrugged wordlessly.

That week was one of the most chatter filled ones I had ever experienced at Hogwarts. The Death Eaters who had broken out of Azkaban were almost as notorious as Voldemort himself; in fact, many of their crimes had been legendary. Relatives of the victims in Hogwarts were now the unwilling objects of fame as they went through the corridors. Susan Bones, our friend through the D.A., had had her uncle, aunt and cousins all die at the hands of Waulice Jugson, one of the ten escapees. During that first day’s Herbology lesson, she and Justin worked next to us, her looking distraught.

“I can’t believe this,” she muttered sadly.

Neville nodded in silent agreement, merely looking exhausted after the day’s events at this point in the afternoon.

“I have a good idea what it’s like to feel like you, Harry,” Susan continued, dumping large amounts of dragon manure on her tray of Screechsnap seedlings, causing them to wriggl and squeak in discomfort, “And I don’t know how you stand it, it’s horrible.”

Harry sighed, nodding in agreement. Frankly, for him, things were extremely similar – people were muttering and pointing at him in the corridors again, but it was different from last time. People sounded curious, rather than hostile, and sometimes I would hear conversations that only left me with a feeling of hope.

“Doesn’t make any sense, does it?”

“Wonder – who could have broken ‘em out –“

“Reckon they couldn’t have gotten out before, so what’s different now?”

“D’you think… _You-Know-Who_ …”

“Maybe Dumbledore’s been right all along –“

That night I went off to McGonagall’s office for another day of research, but I had no inclination to talk about dinosaurs, transfiguration, or anything related to them. I hurried inside and rushed to her desk, where she appeared to be re-reading the article.

“Any news? From the Order?” I gasped, panting slightly. McGonagall looked at me and frowned.

“No, no news. Only that the dementors of Azkaban – well, a good number of them, at any rate – have joined forces with You-Know-Who,” McGonagall explained, “And they assisted in the break out.”

“What does Dumbledore think about it? What is the Order going to do? Are we going to try to catch them? What –“ but McGonagall cut me off by raising her hand.

“Maggie, right now Dumbledore is trying to understand why Bode was killed by a cutting of the Devil’s Snare. While the news of the break out is upsetting, it is not surprising – we’ve expectd this from the beginning. However…” McGonagall began, but I cut her off.

“Bode was an Unspeakable, right? Do you know why he was in the hospital in the first place?” I asked hurriedly. McGonagall frowned.

“That’s what we’re trying to determine. The report simply said it was a workplace accident. However, given the sensitive objects in the Department at this time –“

“What if someone put him under the Imperius Curse to do something for them – and then – when he started showing improvement and the person who did the curse realized he could talk – killed him?” I suggested hurriedly.

“That does seem to be an explanation, though it would need confirmation,” McGonagall nodded.

“Was he trying to get the prophecy? Would that curse him like that?” I asked in confusion.

“Prophecies in the Department of Mysteries can only be removed from the shelf by the people who th prophecy is about,” McGonagall acknowledged, “There are protective spells and enchantments to work against anyone else who tries.”

“So – someone didn’t know that – advised Voldemort and the Death Eaters to just control Bode – and he got cursed!” I hissed, “And then, when he started to get better – they had to kill him to keep from talking!”

“This is what Dumbledore fears, however, he would need confirmation on Bode’s _exact_ cause of injury, and he cannot get that, given his relationship with the Ministry,” McGonagall sighed, “At any rate, we’r continuing to guard the prophecy, of course.”

I frowned, looking at her intensely, “You think I could talk to Dumbledore about it all?”

“For confirmation of your theory?”

I nodded hurriedly.

“While you _could_ ask, of course, I don’t know if you would be satisfied with the result,” McGonagall sighed, “He might choose not to tell you, and insist that he must tell Harry and Harry alone.”

“Well, he’s _got_ to tell Harry sometime, and sometime soon,” I muttered angrily, “This is ridiculous. He needs to know all of this.”

“I agree, Maggie, but we are not Dumbledore, and I trust him,” McGonagall paused, “He knows all of the facts at hand – usually, he has a plan…”

“I hope that plan includes a big, fat apology,” I muttered angrily. McGonagall sighed heavily.

“Well, let’s not waste anymore time. Let’s get back to those brain diagrams…”

The next day, Hermione ran up to Neville and I just after we woke up in the morning. She looked horrifically angry, and we looked at her questioningly as we closed the door behind us.

“There’s a new decree,” Hermione muttered furiously.

“Oh no, what?” Neville groaned.

“Number Twenty-Six. Teachers are now banned from giving studnts any information that is not strictly related to the subjects they are paid to teach,” Hermione sighed, “So no point in trying to get anything out of a teacher.”

I frowned; technically, McGonagall was not paid to teach me charms, _or_ serve as my therapist. Still, Umbridge really only knew about the research – we would just have to be careful. Tha tnight, we didn’t have work together; I sat in my bedroom, playing with Blue and not studying, as Neville went on prefect rounds with Hermione around the castle. Blue was getting a lot better at following my commands as we went on; now she was learning _attack_ on some pillows I had stolen from the Room of Requirement. They were torn to shreds by her sickle claws and hand claws and teeth, and she was getting a lot better at attacking the pillows and not other stuff strewn about the room.

Neville entered the room, followed by Hermione. I looked at her in confusion; hardly anyone ever came into our room.

“Well, I filled Hermione in,” Neville sighed.

“I thought we hadn’t decided –“ I responded angrily.

“I basically forced him to tell me during rounds, Maggie, it’s not his fault,” Hermione reassured. I sighed heavily, standing up. Blue scurried off to the bathroom, probably to play in the bathtub. Surprisingly, it was one of her favorit activities.

“So what do you think? Have you thought about our theory at all?” I asked, looking at her earnestly. Hermione nodded rapidly.

“It all makes complete sense – the prophecy, Voldemort’s mistakes, guard duty – everything. And I agree about the bit about Harry’s scar – and the bit about how he was protected at your house. I do have a theory on the latter one, though,” Hermione continued hurriedly.

“What?” I asked eagerly.

“Well, there’s this really _ancient_ kind of magic – when someone dies for you, to protect you, they leave a blood protection on you – we know this already,” Hermione continued.

“I take it it’s more complicated than what we know?” Neville asked.

“Exactly,” Hermion agreed, “In fact, if one lives in the house of someone with the same blood as the protector – that house cannot be attacked. It is safe.”

“So… by living with my mum, Harry and our home was protected?” I asked for clarification.

“Yes,” Hermione affirmed, “And that’s why he could get attacked other places – the protection doesn’t extend to other places, just your home.”

“Well that’s good news, if we’re ever in trouble we’ll all just kip out at the Nest!” I grinned.

“It’s not that simple,” Hermione sighed, “The protection only goes until the protected person comes of age. That’s why seventeen is the year we come of age, it’s an ancient magical fact that that is when you become an ‘adult wizard.’ Your magical physiology changes. Otherwise, we’d have the same adult age as muggles.”

“So, we’re safe at the Nest until Harry turns seventeen?” I sighed.

“Good thing he’s the youngest,” Neville joked.

“We kip out at the Nest until July 31st 1997 and then… well after then we’re screwed but until then we’re good!” I laughed.

Hermione rolled her eyes at us, “The more important thing is the prophecy. I think we need to talk to Dumbldore. We need to try and get that information.”

“How will we manage that, when he’s not allowed to tell us anything?” Neville muttered mutinously.

“He’s not technically a teacher,” Hermione reminded, “So he’s not being paid to teach us anything. We can ask him any question we like, and I think we should, soon. We should confirm all of this, and then demand him to tell Harry, or tell Harry ourselves.”

“I definitely see that going well,” Neville snorted, “Oh Dumbledore, could you please tell us this really sensitive and secret information that you won’t even tell your senior Order Members? We promise we won’t tell anyone. Well, we’ll tell Harry, but that’s only if you don’t tell him yourself.”

“Well, we figured it out, didn’t we?” I pointed out, “At the very least we can go in there and tell him our theories and see how he responds.”

“It’s not a horrific plan, but it probably won’t work out,” Hermione sighed, “At the least, we have to try.”

“Alright,” I nodded, “Erm… you’re not going to tell Harry, are you?”

“Of course not!” Hermione looked appalled, “Just dropping that information on him without all the facts? Are you mad?”

“No!” I shouted, “Of course not – I know not to tell him – I was making sure you wouldn’t!”

“Right, right,” Hermione sighed, “Sorry, I’m just… overwhelmed… this isn’t a very nice thing to learn.”

“No,” Neville agreed, “This is terrifying.”

“We stick by him, though, right?” I asked.

“Until the end,” Hermione affirmed.

“It’s not like this is surprising. Frankly, we should have all guessed it first year,” Neville agreed, “We knew what we signed on for.”

“Alright,” Hermione noddd grimly, “I’m going to go to bed. See you both tomorrow.”

I watchd her go with worry. There did not seem to be any sort of hopefulnss in the wak of the week’s events.

The next day, at McGonagall’s lesson, I walked inside and she immediately locked the door behind me. I looked at her in utter confusion.

“Maggie, if Umbridge overhears us and we’re not discussing your research, we are in great trouble,” McGonagall explained snappishly, as though it were obviously, “I’ve also put a charm on the door that muffles the ears of anyone walking by it. She cannot hear us.”

“Good,” I agreed calmly, “Any further news?”

“Dumbledore is convinced that Bode was attempting to get ahold of the prophecy,” McGonagall sighed, “Other than that, no. The escaped Death Eaters are all simply trying to return to You-Know-Who; other than that, their current whereabouts are unclear.”

“Great,” I grumbled angrily, “Just great. You know, for once in my life, I’d like to not fear for it, you know?”

“Well, let’s work hard here on your remedial charms, and you’ll fear for it less,” McGonagall insisted. I groaned loudly, setting down my bag and slumping into a chair.

“Maggie, you’ve shown dramatic improvements – you are passing nearly all of the assessments given to you by Flitwick, and I hear your lass essay even got an _E_ …” McGonagall reassured.

“I hate charms,” I muttered into my arms, in which my face was buried. McGonagall sighed heavily.

“Yes, well, we all have things in this world that we dislike, but must deal with. Come, now; banishing charms.”

I stood up, looked at her, and nodded, returning to practicing the devilish spells.

The first D.A. meeting of the term, given the breakout, was more urgent than it had ever been before. But it was proceeded by an event quite bizarre indeed. We were all mulling about in the Room of Requirement – many D.A. members came up to Neville and I to congratulate us as we did so.

“About bloody time, you too,” Michael Corner grinned.

“Dammit, I lost the over,” Ernie Macmillan groaned, paying a grinning Cho Chang ten galleons. I looked over at Neville and grinned at him happily.

Soon after that, the door opened and Parvati Patil walked in – but she wasn’t alone, as she usually was. Dean Thomas looked up in shock as Lavender, Siobhan, _and_ Seamus all followed her in.

“What the –“ Harry asked in surprise, looking up in shock.

“Well,” Seamus began sheepishly, looking around at the whole room, “That mess with the Death Eaters… escaping out of Azkaban…”

“It seems fishy,” Lavender admitted.

“And, frankly, a lot of things have been fishy for a while now,” Siobhan muttered reluctantly.

“This has been happening for ages… it didn’t take much for us to be… erm… persuaded, I guess,” Seamus sighed.

“Parvati has been wearing us down since November,” Lavender agreed.

“Can we join?” Siobhan asked nervously.

“Of course you can,” Hermione urged, “Here, you just have to sign this list…” She brought over the parchment of names and handed it to them; each one of them signed earnestly.

“Now, singing this means you agree that you cannot tell Umbridge, anyone loyal to her, or anyone loyal to You-Know-Who about the D.A., do you understand?” she continued.

All three nodded. Dean Thomas walked up to Seamus, looking down at him critically. Their height difference was reminiscent of mine and Neville’s, to be honest, though the difference in their pallor was flipped.

“I’m… sorry,” Seamus finally sighed. Everyone in the room was watching them avidly.

“So you admit you were a prat, then?” Dean asked sharply, without a hint of forgiveness in his voice, “Because you were a huge one, and you broke my heart.”

The room was hushed, people even straining to see proceedings. I watched the exchang with wide eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, I was a prat,” Seamus agreed quietly, “I mean, the evidence was all there… you were right… and look at you all. Everything you’ve done… Umbridge’s bullshit, this mess from the Ministry… it no longer makes any sense.”

“And you agree you were a prat about Umbridge and the shite she said?” Dean continued, still glaring at him.

“Yeah… I was… I was scared,” Seamus admitted shamefully. Dean sighed heavily.

“Yeah… yeah, I was scared too,” he agreed. Seamus looked up at Dean with a hopeful expression on his face.

“I thought we’d be put in detention or – or expelled – and I –“

“Yeah, I know. But we have to be brave. Otherwise, it’s not worth it at all, and we might as well just go our separate ways,” Dean insisted.

Seamus looked up at Dean and nodded, “I know.”

There was a long silence between them as everyone continued to stare avidly.

“Oh come on, kiss him!” someone – I’m pretty sure it was Sam, actually – shouted from the back of the room. Everyone tittered in agreement, someone even cheering. Seamus and Dean were now both flushed beyond belief.

“Oh, all right,” Seamus muttered, flushing mad. Dean also nodded, blushing heavily, and pulled Seamus in for a long, drawn-out kiss. In fact, it went on for _so_ long, someone whistled in the back – again, I was convinced it was Sam.

“Alright… and on that note,” Harry called, clearly trying to get the room back into order, “We’re going to work on Shield Charms today – very important defensive magic – everyone pick a partner…”

Dean was flushed but looked overjoyed as he and Seamus partnered up. He looked over at me and I winked at him, him grinning back. I looked back at Neville, who was smirking, but also looked pleased. Having all of the Gryffindors in our year here definitely felt like things were looking up – perhaps, even, the public would soon be on our side.

Everyone worked exceptionally hard at the meeting that week – after all, the threat of the Death Eaters on the loose truly frightened everyone. Neville, especially, worked harder than everyone put together – apparently, the threat of his parents’ attackers were spurring him into action. This was especially compounded with the fact that he had worked hard prior to Christmas as well – and soon, Neville was the best pupil in the class. Only Harry was better than he was.

“Neville, where the bloody hell did you get a reputation for being stupid?” Fred asked, frowning at Neville as he mastred the shield charm first that day.

“Snape, mostly,” Neville shrugged.

“Snape likes to torture Neville and me for no real reason,” Harry rolled his eyes, “More than any other Gryffindor.”

“It’s true,” Siobhan affirmd from the back of the room.

“That, plus the fact that my Gran was pretty abusive towards me growing up – she constantly told me I wasn’t good enough… wouldn’t have the same magical talent as my parents… was a disappointment to the family… I started to believe her,” Neville shrugged. Everyone looked at him in shock. I just squeezed his hand as tightly as I could. I hated thinking about this, and how I would have to play nice with the woman, potentially for the rest of my life.

“That’s horrible!” Hannah Abbot

“Yeah, well,” Neville shrugged sheepishly, looking down at his shoes, “It’s fine.”

Everyone stared at him wordlessly, their mouths hanging open. I continued to squeeze his hand tightly.

“Come on, let’s keep practicing,” he muttered angrily, turning away from the crowd. I rubbed his shoulder comfortingly, sighing softly.

“Neville is the suffer in silence type,” Hermione said brusquely, “He’s been that way since first year.”

Everyone continued to look at Neville with newfound respect. Prior to – I dunno, fourth year – I would have been happy about this. I would have been _ecstatic_ for him to get the recognition he deserved. Now? Now I knew him better. Now, I just wanted him to be happy – and his happiness mostly hinged on not having others worry about him. Right now, Neville was not happy… and there was no way to explain that to anyone at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will I be able to crank out another chapter? Who knows! PLEASE comment!!!


	72. Chapter Seventy - One: January 18 - February 15, 1996, Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Off in the distance 
> 
> There is resistance 
> 
> Bubbling up and festering 
> 
> Hey Mr. Motion 
> 
> Make me a potion 
> 
> Shake it all up with your mystery 
> 
> How come I've never seen your face round here? 
> 
> I know every single face round here 
> 
> A man on a mission, changing the vision 
> 
> I was never welcome here 
> 
> We don't have a choice to stay 
> 
> We'd rather die than do it your way 
> 
> With our back to the wall, the darkness will fall 
> 
> We never quite thought we could lose it all 
> 
> Ready aim fire, Ready aim fire 
> 
> And empires fall in just one day." 
> 
> ~ Imagine Dragons, "Ready Aim Fire".

Chapter 71: January 18 – February 15th, 1996, Hogwarts

That Saturday, I went up to the Room of Requirement to resume my lessons with Shae. We had made great progress last term, and I was excited to continue to move forward. Shae was waiting for me in the room, but she looked troubled.

“What is it?” I asked immediately, frowning at her.

“I don’t think we can continue with lessons,” Shae explained calmly.

“What? Why?” I demanded, feeling upset. I ran up to Shae in worry, looking at her desperately.

“You have progressed beautifuly. You are now skilled combating without and with knives at various levels of intensity of movement, you are well versed in the martial arts of it all, your speed and agility has been honed, and you are good at predicting my movements when we face off,” Shae paused, “I have nothing left to teach you.”

“But – elementalism – next year,” I spluttered out.

“McGonagall has offered to teach you that when you learn the basics in her class. I have taught her much about the martial arts portion of it all,” Shae explained, “Furthermore, I have more important matters to attend to now, and cannot stick around.”

“Like… like what?” I asked, feeling hopeless. Training with Shae had been uplifting – I had taken to all of it so naturally, it was a refreshing change from the difficulty of remedial charms.

“I’m joining the Order,” Shae explained simply, “I have work to do for Dumbledore to round up the dragons. I have to do it descretely, though, or else the Ministry will notice. After that, I’ll just help the Order out normally. You really have learned everything that I, specifically, must teach you.”

“Okay,” I sighed, “I’m… sorry. I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too,” she acknowledged, “But you should focus on your charms. Be sure to go out and meet with Herin, she needs a check-in from you now that you’re done.”

“I will,” I agreed. Shae gave me a hug and then left the room, leaving me to stand there awkwardly on my own. I sat in the Room for a long time, holding my knees up to my chest. I was beginning to feel overwhelmed with everything that was going on. I certainly didn’t _feel_ like I was completely prepared, but I didn’t really have a choice in arguing with her – she had to help Dumbledore, and I understood that completely.

I left the Room of Requirement and wandered back to my bedroom. I changed into more weather appropriate clothing and grabbed my bow. I hadn’t practiced in ages and I desperately needed to. I walked out onto the Grounds; it was still snowy all over, and the material crunched deliciously underneath my feet. I walked up to the trees and picked one to practice on, aiming my arrow and letting it fly to land in a precisely chosen knot. Satisified that my stationary aim was still on point, I began aiming at other targets – falling leaves and objects in the forest. I still managed to hit most of them, which was comforting – at least archery was not an easily lost skill. I wandered to where my arrows had fallen and picked them all up, neatly replacing them in my quiver.

“Miss Johnson!” a much too sweet voice called out behind me. I felt my entire body seize up as I turned around to face Umbridge.

“Yes, Professor Umbridge?” I asked quietly.

“Why, may I ask, do you have such a dangerous weapon?” she asked brusquely, smiling at me a little too wide.

“Got it as a present first year,” I explained, “I just like to practice with it. It’s a sport, you know.”

“It is a weapon and could be used to harm other students!” Umbridge insisted, “Why, I just _cannot_ allow you to have it!”

“It’s not yours, you can’t take it away forever,” I frowned, feeling nervous, “It’s another way I creatively release my anger.”

“I’m beginning to wonder, if you need so many ways to release your anger, are you really safe to be around other students?” Umbridge’s eyes were filled with so much eagerness that I immediately felt terrified. She was going to get me for this _somehow_.

“Is there a rule that says I can’t have it? Because plenty of professors have seen me with it before,” I went back to the previous point, preferring to lose my bow over my status at Hogwarts.

“There is not a _written_ rule, no,” Umbridge acknowledged, “But I think, given your violent history, a special case must be made here!”

“What will you do with it,” I asked dully.

“I’ll simply put it in my office for safe keeping. Perhaps in the future, if you have exemplified good behavior to me, you will be given it back,” Umbridge smiled wider again. I handed her the bow and the quiver roughly, turning away and walking through the Grounds, as far away from her as I could. I turned around at one point to make sure she was no where near me; satisfied that she was gone and not looking for me, I ran into the Forest. I sprinted as fast as I could through the trees until I was far enough in; I then shifted for the first time in _ages_. It felt absolutely fantastic, and I flew deftly through the trees, bobbing and weaving until I rached whre Herin usually was.

“Herin?” I called loudly. The forest made no sound.

“ _HERIN!_ ” I shouted louder. A rustling began in the distance and I waited eagerly, crouching on the forest floor. Herin emerged, then, but she looked a little worse for wear. She had scars all over her face and an intense amount everywhere else as well. She looked down at me and growled softly, as though I was the one to do this to her.

“What – what happened?” I asked hurriedly, my tail flicking back and forth.

“I have been _attacked_ ,” Herin growled angrily, “By _your oaf’s_ brother.”

“By my – what?” I asked in confusion.

“The large man who has no respect for dragons. He did not appear to realize my presence in this forest,” Herin explained.

“Okay… so did he find you?” I asked worriedly.

“No,” Herin acknowledged, “But he brought something into this forest that I cannot abide with.”

“What?” I looked at her desperately, confused beyond belief.

“His _giant_ , half-sibling! His brother!” Herin roared angrily. I looked at her in shock, my maw dropping open with it.

“He _what_?”

“Yes – that fool brought a giant into my forest! He has been trying to get the giant to _behave_. Foolish man,” Herin snorted, “The giant and I have been fighting since he came here. I have had to leave, _many_ times, in order to do work for Dumbledore – we are gathering the dragons, as I’m sure you know – but every time I do, I am relieved, for I will not have to fight that beast any longer!”

It was so strange to hear a dragon refer to another sort of creature as a beast. I sighed heavily, looking at her in sorrow.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know Hagrid had brought him here until you told me. I don’t know how I would even reprimand him for it,” I explained calmly.

“Obviously not,” Herin acknowledged, “It has been stressful. I am terrified that I am under constant attack.”

“Should I talk to Hagrid about this?” I asked nervously.

“Oh, oh no. No, he’ll ask how you know, and then you would have to explain everything, and that would be disasterous. It is much better for you to keep this information to yourself… perhaps Hagrid will realize how foolish he is being, and force his brother to go home…” Herin muttered.

“Well, that explains all the bruises. Come on, Hagrid,” I groaned in annoyance.

“He has truly outdone himself this time,” Herin agreed.

“Well, I am sorry about him” I apologized.

Herin snorted, seemingly not done with her rant, “And that _woman_ who accosted you outside of the forest has been poking around in my abode. Apparently wants Dumbledore to tell her _exactly_ what lives in here. Well, he said that was ridiculous, and rightly so – not even _he_ knows. But she suspect something… oh yes, she suspects something…”

“Well, that means my problems will be solved. You can just eat her,” I offered.

Herin laughed for a long time, pillars of smoke trailing up into the air and away from us as she did so.

“Yes, you are right. And I would be happy to, if the situation arose. But only if she were to discover me. If I just attack her – the Ministry will blame Dumbledore. He would be on the run for sure, and then, well, where would we be?” Herin explained shrewdly.

“You… know a lot more about the Wizarding world since we last talked,” I said, frowning.

“I have spent most of my time with wizards. It in fact rubs off on you,” Herin explained, “Dumbledore is a patient man.”

“That is a very true statement,” I agreed, “So… what do you want me to do now?”

“Remain out of trouble. You leaving Hogwarts now would, in fact, be disastrous,” Herin paused, “You have to lay low, and keep quiet. It’s more important now than ever.”

“Alright,” I agreed, “Well… I’ll get back then.”

And get back I did. And lay low I did. The rest of the month was spent in a haze of homework, D.A. meetings, meetings with McGonagall, and cuddles with Neville. Frequently, I also would be training Blue to perform different tasks – since I suddenly had some extra free time, due to the absence of Shae and my bow from my life.

 _At least I still have my knives_ , I thought shrewdly as Blue and I practiced her hunting in the Room of Requirement, where I could have magical objects run around and have her catch them. She was extremely good at attacking _exactly_ what I wanted her to, and I was convinced that we could be a good hunting team in the future, if it was required.

Valentine’s Day was quickly approaching, and in the chaos of everything happening, I had forgotten it was another Hogsmeade Weekend. Dad would be coming to meet with Angelina again – she seemed to be doing better every time, which was comforting. And I was going to be able to leave the castle with Neville for the first time since Christmas.

“What do you want to do, then?” Neville asked as I got ready for bed the night before, wiping off my makeup carefully.

“I dunno – I guess we could have a normal date, then?” I frowned, “Seems odd for us.”

“You’re telling me,” Neville laughed in appreciation, “But yeah, we should. Apparently Harry and Ginny are going out, too, but then Harry has to meet up with Hermione.”

“Whatever for?” I asked in confusion.

“She wouldn’t say. I dunno. I still reckon we need to talk to Dumbledore soon,” Neville sighed, “We’ve been putting it off.”

“With all the things we’ve had to do?” I shook my head, “No wonder.”

“True,” Neville agreed, “I just am filled with this sense of urgency. Things are coming together, you know? The D.A. is getting close to things like patronuses – you’ve finished your training with Shae – O.W.L.s are coming – there are Death Eaters on the loose…”

“Oh I agree,” I paused, “And with Umbridge stealing my arrows, I’m worried that she is aiming to get us all once and for all. We haven’t exactly been _quiet_ in how we know Voldemort’s back.”

“Indeed,” Neville sighed, “Well, we’ll just have to look out for each other, won’t we?”

“We will,” I agreed, climbing into bed with him and resting against his chest, “I’m glad I have you, though.”

“I’m glad I have you, too,” Neville sighd happily, kissing the top of my head as we fell asleep.

So, that next day, we went to Hogsmeade together, wandering amongst the shops and looking in the windows.

“So much less interesting than London,” I muttered irritably as we looked round Dervish and Bangs.

“Well, at least it’s all magical… I mean, that’s gotta count for something?” Neville asked.

“True,” I nodded, “Let’s just… I dunno. Let’s just go somewhere else. I feel nervous.”

“Okay, love,” Neville agreed, looking at me worriedly. I couldn’t explain why I felt nervous. I honestly felt like someone was watching me; there were eyes following the back of my neck and hairs seemed to be prickling up everywhere on my body. I lead Neville by the hand down the street and down to the Shrieking Shack; the snow had melted early, and so everything just looked brown and sort of gross. Neville turned and looked at me, still worriedly, reaching out to stroke my face.

“What’s wrong?” he asked softly.

“I feel like someone’s _watching_ us,” I hissed quietly, “I don’t – I’m terrified.”

Neville immediately pulled out his wand and I followed suit. We both turned and looked around at the surrounding area together, examining every bit of the field surrounding the Shack.

“I don’t _see_ anyone, and I don’t know how we’d tell if they had an Invisibility Cloak,” Neville muttered, “I’m sorry, I have nothing else –“

“No, thank you,” I shrugged, but I still had goosebumps all up and down my arms, “That was still reassuring. I just… I dunno. Things have been too quiet at the castle. Meetings have gone well, but no one’s been… doing much, you know?”

“I think everyone just wants to stay under the radar,” Neville reassured, “After the Death Eaters escaped – we’re focused again, on making sure that we’re all prepared.”

“Obviously,” I nodded, “And that makes sense… but I think it’s lulled Umbridge into a false sense of security. I think she thinks she has control over the school, now, and could even – I dunno – target us…”

“Well, if she does, she can’t do much… right?” Neville asked nervously.

“Expelling students is under her power now, thanks to Decree Twenty-Five,” I grumbled, “Why doesn’t Fudge just remove Dumbledore as Headmaster, put in Umbridge, and be done with it?”

“That’s a serious question,” Neville agreed, “He’ just beating around the bush at this point and it’s excessively frustrating.”

“Then Dumbledore can really focus, too, on fighting Voldemort,” I urged in a whisper, “Which is pretty important, don’t you think?”

“Oh yes,” Neville leaned against the railing of the fence, “Now the real question is… what decree will she pass next, to give herself more powers?”

“No student can ever, _ever_ , have fun,” I grinned at him.

“No student can ever be seen within six inches of a student of the opposite sex!” Neville laughed.

“No student shall listen to music,” I smirked.

“Teachers must never talk to students ever. They must force students to read in their class and sit, silently, behind their desk,” Neville chortled.

“If any student is caught in the possession of illegal contraband, such as – anything that isn’t a wand, apparently – that student shall be expelled,” I poked my tongue out at him.

“If any student is enjoying themself, that student must submit themself to detention _immediately_ ,” Neville faced me and wiggled his eyebrows at me, “All students enjoying themselves _must_ be punished.”

“Well, then, we owe Umbridge, like, fifty detentions,” I giggled quietly. Neville wrapped his arms around my waist.

“Fifty, you say? You’ve only enjoyed yourself with me fifty times?” Neville accused teasingly, a glint in his eyes.

“Oh, it’s countless times, but I don’t think we can have infinite detentions,” I laughed. Neville leaned in and started kissing my neck, trailing them down to my collarbone. I moaned soflty, reaching around to hold onto his back. His hands were holding tightly to my waist and I kind of wished we were somewhere like our room, where no one could walk and run into us. I giggled at the thought of Hermione seeing us and flipping over something in annoyance and bemusement.

“Something funny, eh?” Neville asked, looking up and at me again. He had that same lustful expression on his face that constantly and consistently made me tingle all over, now; not just my fingertips. We were very, very, _very_ bad at keeping the slow-and-steady mindset.

“Just, you know, we’re in public,” I mumbled softly. Neville kissed me on the lips and I eagerly wrapped my arms around his neck, holding to him tightly.

“Our first kiss was in public,” Neville pointed out, pulling back form the kiss but still looking at me closely.

“True,” I acknowledged, “But, you know, a deserted street in London – bit different than Hogsmeade on a school weekend…”

“Eh, let people see,” Neville declared, resuming kissing me, his lips moving urgently against mine. I moaned into his mouth despite myself, and Neville’s kisses turned more urgent and excited, and his tongue was almost instantaneously intertwined with mine. I gripped the front of his robes and pulled him closer towards me, pressing my body up against his as I hungrily kissed his lips. I wanted to taste more of him, but I didn’t want to push that boundary when we had made our goals so clear so early on. Still, it was easy to tell tha the was feeling the same – from the way his hands moved along my sides to the way his tongue buried itself in my mouth, I knew that if we were a little less cautious of people, something very different would be happening right now.

He pulled back, panting heavily, staring at me intensely. I looked at him in equal furvor, reaching up to run my fingers along the side of his face.

“I love you, Neville,” I whispered very quietly.

“I love you, Maggie,” he responded, kissing me on the forehead softly and gently.  

“Whatever happens next… we’re in this together,” I murmured.

“Together,” Neville agreed. We kissed one more time, less urgently now, before holding hands and walking back up towards the castle, bored after a long day of quite literally nothing. We went to the Room of Requirement to wait for Harry and Hermione; this was the sort of day we would need to study together, and keep each other focused. Neville and I, though, without them, spent most of the rest of that afternoon snogging each other passionately on the couch, actively willing ourselves to keep all of our garments on our bodies at all times, and our hands in relatively respectful places. We were taking a break from one of these snogging sessions to cuddle in front of the fire when the door to the Room opened, Hermione and Harry climbing in.

“Well, that was a disaster,” Harry muttered angrily.

“What happened?” Neville asked curiously, looking up from my hair (where, previously, his face had been buried).

“Well, I was _trying_ to have a good date with Ginny – you know, to make up for how horrible I was over the Holiday,” Harry grumbled, sitting across from us in a fury.

“Yeah…?” I questioned, looking at him with a frown.

“Well, you see, Hermione wanted me to do something, too, and I didn’t know _what_ , so I told Ginny just that I wanted to do something with Hermione, and she flipped the fuck out! Completely went mental! Like, what’s wrong with me doing something with one of my best mates? What the bloody hell did I do wrong?” Harry grumbled.

“You should have acted like you didn’t want to go,” Hermione sighed heavily, “You should have acted like it was a huge inconvenience for you, but you couldn’t get out of it. You were too eager to meet with me.”

“Can you blame me? Her giving me the third degree all the time. I love _her_ , for the love of Merlin – but ever since we’ve gotten back she’s just asking these sly questions about what we all get up to, and I don’t know how to respond, how does one deal with that? Merlin,” Harry muttered again, “I just have to keep reminding myself – she’s under stress, I mean it’s hard having your parents in the Order, lord knows I know that… she’s fantastic, last term was wonderful, I just have to keep remembering that.” Harry appeared to be trying to convince himself as much as he was anyone else present.

“What were you meeting up for, anyway?” Neville asked, running his fingers through my hair and coaxing it out of the pony tail, letting it all hang loose around my shoulders.

“Well, remember our good friend, Rita Skeeter?” Hermione asked, a proud smile on her face.

“Erm, yeah, how could we forget?” I rolled my eyes, scowling furiously.

“I asked her to meet us,” Hermione explained calmly, “In Hogsmeade.”

“Why on _Earth_ would you do something like that,” I scoffed.

“I asked her to interview Harry,” Hermione responded simply.

“What?!” I shouted loudly.

“Are you _mental_?!” Neville roared.

“I asked her to interview him for the Quibbler,” Hermione clarified, “Tell the story from _Harry’s_ side, about what happened that night in June. I read over her notes, it was all correct – no anti-Harry bias. I threatened her into doing it, but she agreed!”

“Wow,” I frowned, looking over at Harry, “You alright with this, bro?”

“Yeah, I think so,” Harry agreed, “I want people to believe me, don’t I?”

“Course you do,” Neville agreed, “I hope it works.”

“Well, at any rate, having your side of the story out there will put doubt in people’s minds – that plus the Death Eaters will persuade _some_ people, at least. Giving the detailed picture is usually helpful in showing people that things are bullshit,” I grinned.

“Harry did brilliantly, too, which was amazing, since he was upset after his row with Ginny,” Hermione sighed, “I had been worried about that…”

“I’ll just go talk to her in a bit, explain what was happening, how you wouldn’t even _tell_ me before going in,” Harry rolled his eyes, “How were you two?”

“Fine,” I beamed, “We got a bit bored with the shops, though. Nothing really new, you know?”

“We talked most of the time,” Neville acknowledged, “For some reason, Mags has been feeling kind of nervous.”

“Don’t any of you feel like someone’s _watching_ you all the time? I feel like there’s a set of eyes following my back,” I muttered irritably.

“Now that you mention it… I have felt a little off,” Hermione frowned.

“D’you think Umbridge is watching us?” Harry asked worriedly, “Wouldn’t put it past that hag…”

“It’s been quiet,” Neville sighed, “I am worried she’s plotting something.”

“Well, she can’t just outright throw us out of school, not unless she catches us doing something big,” Hermione responded firmly, “That much is true.”

“Bully for that,” I responded dully. I had a feeling that woman was really capable of doing, well, most anything in the end. We spent the rest of the evening studying, but I still felt like I was being watched; it was a constant feeling, like an itch on the back of my neck that I couldn’t reach to scratch. Harry left early in the night to go talk to Ginny; I didn’t like my continual mixed feelings on the situation, and I buried my nose in my charms book, hopeful to conquer some of the spells we had learned this past year.

The next day, I wandered down the corridor with Neville, not really aiming to go anywhere. We didn’t have a D.A. meeting that evening, and without lessons with Shae, I was a little aimless in general. Neville could see the lost look on my face and squeezed my hand tightly in comfort, though I had such a foreboding feeling about everything going on in my life, it didn’t do much good.

“Come on, Mags, let’s go out onto the grounds, that’ll cheer you,” Neville urged.

“I doubt it,” I sighed longingly, “Maybe if we found the rest of the Team…”

“Oh lord, we’re not going with that one,” Neville shook his head in bemusement.

“It’s been months. Turns out, Team Potter is sticking,” I grumbled in annoyance.

“The Golden Quartet?” Neville offered. I snorted loudly.

“The Rebel Four?” Neville continued. I looked at him in amusement. It almost felt like the beginning of last term, when things weren’t quite as dire feeling, or as desperate in character.

“No,” I shook my head, kissing him on the cheek.

“The Family?” Neville grinned. I rolled my eyes at him.

“We aren’t a _mob_ , Nev –“

“Team Potter is horrible! How could it possibly stand!” Neville groaned.

“Cause it’s true and arrogant. I mean what did we all say the other day? Us and Hermione? We stand by Harry. It’s what we do,” I urged.

“Yeah… I guess,” Neville admitted, “But Team _Potter_ …”

“We could get matching sweatshirts,” I giggled.

“Lord help us all,” Neville rolled his eyes.

“Miss Johnson! _Mr._ Longbottom!”

Only one voice in this world would emphasize a gendered title on Neville so forcefully. We turned around slowly, the hairs on my arms sticking up in fear again as I looked at Umbridge.

“Er, yes, Professor?” Neville asked softly, averting his eyes from her.

“I must insist that you two come to my office immediately. I have some questions for you,” she asked much too sweetly. We looked at each other in fear, but followed her up to her office, sitting down in the chairs in front of her desk.

“Now,” she paused, looking at both of us through neatly narrowed eyes,”Now, you two. You both are aware of my… disapproval of your choices since attending Hogwarts.”

“You have definitely made that clear to us,” I responded carefully.

“I understand what it’s like, of course, to be – bullied – by someone as powerful and demanding as Harry Potter,” Umbridge continued much too sweetly, “But I believe that you two have enjoyed every minute of it.”

“What are you getting at, Professor?” Neville asked calmly. We were both trying extremely hard to not act as afraid as we were.

“I am implying, _Mr_. Longbottom, that you and Miss Johnson, along with your gang of friends, have been _hiding_ things from me. Illegal things. Illicit activities,” Umbridge continued fiercely.

“Like what?” I asked dully.

“Secret groups! Groups plotting to overthrow the Ministry! Groups working to learn illicit and forbidden spells in the confines of secret locations!” Umbridge raged.

“You accused us of this last term. We stopped meeting to _study textbooks_ when you made the educational decree,” I responded swiftly, “We’ve done nothing wrong.”

“Really? Is that so?” Umbridge hissed. I glared at her angrily, trying to keep my decorum.

“I have it on _good authority_ that you are participating in an illegal club! Leading it, in fact, with Mr. Potter and Miss Granger! I believe you have been doing this for _months_!” Umbridge shrieked.

“You’re wrong,” I answered simply.

“Well,” Umbridge paused, looking at both of us, “Well, if you tell me, your punishments will be light, I can assure you – the Ministry greatly appreciates help from anyone, regardless of their… affiliations and backgrounds.”

“Makes sense,” Neville muttered quietly under his breath.

“What was that, _Mr._ Longbottom?”

“I said makes sense,” Neville said louder, “Since you have so many Death Eaters filling up the Ministry’s treasury with generous donations.”

Umbridge fumed for a good, long minute. Her face turned bright red, and I could hav sworn I saw steam coming from her ears. I sat back, smirking, trying to not look _too_ pleased by the sight.

“You have made horrific allegations against the Ministry! What is it you and your friends are plotting against us?” she demanded.

“Nothing!” Neville insisted, “We are plotting _nothing_ and you _know_ it.”

“If you will not sumbit to questioning alone – then I am afraid I have no choice, _Mr._ Longbottom!” Umbridge hissed.

“No choice in _what_?” Neville asked sharply.

“I have received permission – oh yes, I have receivd _many_ permissions from the Minister himself – to use any means necessary!” Umbridge lookd positively crazed.

“Means necessary to what?” I asked angrily, “We haven’t _done_ anything!”

“Any means necessary to root out this _plot_ against the Ministry, and put a stop to it!” Umbridge shrieked, “Yes, I must put a stop to it, before you all overthrow the peace and prosperty we have had nigh on fifteen years!”

“We aren’t plotting to overthrow the Ministry!” Neville and I responded in unison.

“If you will not tell me… Miss Johnson… you are Potter’s sister. You, more than anyone, would be aware of his plans,” Umbridge muttered, almost to herself.

“He’s not _planning anything_ –“

“If I cannot persuade you with promises of safety – then perhaps – the safety of another…” Umbridge’s eyes glinted with madness.

“What are you –“ I watched in horror as Umbridge pulled out her wand. She aimed it, not at me, but at Neville. He stood up from the chair rapidly, backing up against the wall, staring at Umbridge in terror.

“What – what are you doing?!” I screamed at the top of my lungs.

“The Minister has given me emergency powers to conduct this investigation!” Umbridge laughed cruely, “I am only not allowed to kill…”

Neville looked at her, his face white as a sheet. I felt as though I was going to vomit. I held onto the chair, staring at her desperately.

“We _aren’t plotting anything_!” I screamed.

“You have brought this on yourself!” Umbridge responded. She then raised her wand again, and before Neville could have the wherewithal to do anything, she shouted, “ _Crucio!_ ”

Neville fell to the ground, screaming at the top of his lungs; he twitched and writhed there madly, moving back and forth rapidly with the pain from the curse. I screamed at the top of my lungs in unison with him, staying back for fear of hurting him, but gripping the chair and breaking the back of it in half.

“No! No! No! STOP!” I screamed loudly, tears pooling in my eyes as Neville continued to scream and writhe, “STOP! STOP! STOP!”

Umbridge lifted the curse; Neville curled up into the fetal position, panting heavily on the floor. I looked at Umbridge desperately, tears falling from my eyes like rivers.

“We aren’t _plotting anything!_ ” I cried, the splinters of the chair in my hands, “We aren’t!”

“You liar!” Umbridge screeched.

“I am not lying!” I begged, “Stop, you’ll make him mad, stop!”

“Maybe, instead, some pain on _you_ will force you to cooperate!” Umbridge hissed. I watched in horror as she raised her wand and said, “ _Crucio!_ ” again, but this time, at me.

I felt that familiar, horrific pain; I fell to the ground with it, landing on the shards of wood. I writhed madly, screaming with horror, unabl to think of anything but the pain as I twitched and moved around, my mind white with the torture –

“STOP!”

I opened my eyes; the curse was lifted. I looked to see Neville, panting heavily, his wand pointed at Umbridge.

“Stop,” Neville hissed; his face had that deadly look on it I had only seen a few times before.

“You wouldn’t _dare_ to attack _me_ ,” Umbridge laughed shrilly.

“I wouldn’t say that,” Neville growled, “You are attacking us – we have been plotting no mutiny. Let us go.”

“I _will_ find out the information I need to take down Dumbledore –“

“We have no information!” I panted, “Nothing! Nothing at all!”

“It seems that the pain has not quite loosened your tongue, you _feral_ animal,” Umbridge hissed, “It seems I will have to do it again to get you to know your place!”

I stared at her in horror as she raised her wand again. I even braced myself for the pain.

“ _Cruc –_ “

“ _STUPEFY!_ ”

I looked in shock as a stunner left Neville’s wand and hit Umbridge square in the chest; she collapsed to the floor, hitting her head against her desk. I looked at Neville in shock; he, panting, grabbed my hand, and dragged me down out of her office. We sprinted as fast as we could, running, our limbs still shaking residually after the curse, towards our bedroom. We kept going into the hallway and angled towards us, Neville immediately throwing the bare minimum into his rucksack. I did the same, looking at him in pure terror.

“We have to find the others,” he panted, “Harry, Hermione –“

“Go!” I urged. I grabbed Blue, carrying her in my arms, as we sprinted back through the hallway. Umbridge would be out for a few hours yet. I was dressed in my jeans and black hoodie, and I could feel the hoodie flop against my back as we sprinted to the Gryffindor Common Room.

“What – what is it –“ Harry asked, looking at us in shock.

“Umbridge tried to get us to tell her about the overthrow of the Ministry we were plotting,” I panted, “She used the cruciatus curse on us –“

“She WHAT?” Ginny screamed.

“And Neville stunned her, and she hit her head on the way down – but she’s out cold – we have to go, we have to go _now_ ,” I urged, terrified.

“Who should go?” Ron asked sharply.

“The twelve of you – Harry’s closest friends,” Angelina stepped from a corner, looking around, “I’ll go to the Ravenclaw Common Room, warn Sam and Luna –“

“I’ll go to Slytherin, and get Claire and Elena,” Neville agreed, “Guys, meet in the forest – just run out to the middle of it, it’s safer in there – we’ll find you, okay?”

Harry, Hermione, and the Weasleys all nodded. I sprinted outside, Blue fussing in my arms. I pointed my wand at Umbridge’s office and shouted at the top of my lungs,

“ _ACCIO BOW AND ARROWS!_ ”

This was it. The test of my Charms practice. I watched, in pure and utter joy, as the bow and arrows flew towards me, cramming into my hand. I quickly strung both of them on my back, looking at the Common Room door.

“Maggie – what is it –“

I looked to see Ernie running towards me, terror evident on his face.

“Umbridge attacked Neville and me. The twelve have to go, we have to run,” I hissed.

Ernie’s face drained of color, “I’ll go hold her off – _go –_ “

I ran back to the Common Room. I urged the others out of the room and then followed them myself, sprinting out to the grounds, running to the middle of the forest.

Luna and Sam were already there, looking at us in terror. I looked around wildly for Neville.

“Where is he?” I screamed at the top of my lungs, shoving my bow and arrows at Hermione so I wouldn’t have as much to carry, “Where are _they_?!”

“I couldn’t find Elena!” Neville shouted, running over with Claire.

“I haven’t seen her all day!” Claire screamed.

“We have to _go_ –“ Sam roared.

“Not without my sister!” I screamed, shoving my rucksack at Neville. Harry looked at me desperately as I turned, without another word, to sprint back up into the castle.

I had to save my sister.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short Chapter, I know, but that was the best ending spot!!!! PLEASE comment!


	73. Chapter Seventy - Two: February 15 - 16, 1996, Hogwarts and Glencarron

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Time is up 
> 
> Out of luck 
> 
> Should've stood up when you had the time 
> 
> But you're out of time 
> 
> Let's do this 
> 
> Lock and load 
> 
> Rock and roll 
> 
> Bitch it's all over 
> 
> You're going down 
> 
> Get ready to settle the score 
> 
> And get ready to face the floor 
> 
> Cause it's time to remember it (war) 
> 
> This is war 
> 
> And it's on tonight 
> 
> So get up and fight 
> 
> Get up and fight 
> 
> You had all your life 
> 
> To run and hide 
> 
> Now step up, now step up 
> 
> Let's do this." 
> 
> ~ Sick Puppies, "Street Fighter (War)".

Chapter 72: February 15 – 16, 1996, Hogwarts & Glencarron

I sprinted as fast I could, running through the grounds and back up to the castle door. Blue – who was running faster than she ought to – followed me as usual. I didn’t have the time to yell at her to go back; I could only hope that she wouldn’t slow me down at any point. I went into the Entrance Hall, sprinted up the steps, and ran towards the library – I had no other explanation for where she could be.

I didn’t even hesitate as I entered the library, though I knew if I wasn’t in a panic I would have.

“ELENA!” I screamed at the top of my lungs. She came out from between the stacks; Madam Pince shooshed me, looking furious.

“RUN!” I yelled at Elena. She looked at me in shock and ran over, and we ran together down the corridor as fast as we could, towards the Slytherin Common Room. Now, my screaming had made a ruckus of everything – students were appearing in the corridors, muttering and looking at us in shock as we ran.

“What’s wrong? Where are we going?” Elena shouted as we sprinted down into the dungeons.

“Umbridge – attacked me and Neville – Neville defended himself – not much time – we have to _go!_ ” I screeched. Elena’s face drained of all color and she sprinted into the Slytherin Common Room; I waited in the shadows with Blue, who was hissing her head off in defensiveness. Elena came out relatively quickly, looking at me, her face completely frazzeled.

“Claire’s already out there, in the Forest, let’s go!” I urged. She nodded and we sprinted back toward the Entrance Hall, Elena going somewhat faster than me because I had to wait for Blue – idiot raptor, following me everywhere – for the love of –

“JOHNSON”

I turned around slowly, stopping in my tracks. Elena kept running, sprinting out of the castle as fast as she could. I looked to see Umbridge walking down the stairs, holding Ernie by the scruff of his robes.

“YOU WILL PAY FOR THIS, JOHNSON!” Umbridge screeched. I pulled out my wand, staring at her furiously. Blue’s teeth were bared as much as they could be, her hissing at the top of her lungs.

“LIKE HELL I WILL!” I screamed back, seeing red in the corners of my eyes. I had to keep myself from shifting. It was insanely important that I do – Umbridge couldn’t find out –

“ _Expelli –_ “

“ _Protego_!” I shouted just in charm, blocking her spell. She glared more furiously and continued to shoot curses at me that I blocked with my wand. Everyone was crowding around in the Great Hall; Ernie was massaging a bloody lip and was poised as though to enter into the duel and help. I was constantly on the defense; for all her bullshit in class, Umbridge was a good dueler, and I had to keep refreshing the shield charm just to keep myself from being injured.

“ _Stupefy!_ ”

“ _Protego!”_

_“Impedimenta!”_

_“PROTEGO!_ ” I was getting so mad I could barely breathe correctly; this shield came out much too large and the imediement jinx bounced against all the walls, going everywhere. I wasn’t making any headway and at this rate I wasn’t going to be able to get away.

I hesitated for just too long thinking of what to do; Umbridge silently cast a spell at me and I cried out in pain as a large gash opened up on my face. I could feel blood pouring from it but I ignored it, running forward towards her as fast as I could. Umbridge was so shocked she barely had time to rais her wand at me before I ran smack into her, knocking her off of her feet and onto the ground. I stopped running and turned around, sliding on my feet to do so, bracing myself against the ground to stop myself from falling. Umbridge stood up quickly, looking at me with a contemptuous sneer.

“Just like you, you filthy animal, to resort to muggle tactics –“

I screamed wordlessly at her, pulling out one of my knives from my belt and throwing it at her. It slashed open her sleeve and created a deep cut on her wand arm, losing momentum afterwards to clatter on th ground behind her. She screamed in pain and I ran around her, jumping onto tables and getting high up on the castle walls.

McGonagall and other professors had now entered the scene; McGonagall quickly raised her wand, looking at the proceedings in a panic.

“If you want to keep your job, Minerva, you will stay out of this!” Umbridge screeched.

“Like hell I will keep out of this –“ McGonagall shouted.

“No!” I screamed, leaping down from one of the shelves on the wall and tackling Umbridge. She fell to the ground and I held another knife up to her throat. She looked at me and chuckled madly.

“You wouldn’t dare to kill a Ministry –“

“Fuck right I would!” I screeched, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Umbridge laughed cruely and lifted her wand, shouting, “ _FLIPENDO_.” I was thrown back from her, hitting my head against a table; I groaned in pain, stumbling to my feet.

“ANY PROFESSOR AIDING THIS STUDENT WILL BE IMMEDIATELY THROWN INTO AZKABAN!” Umbridge screamed as more people ran into the Entrance Hall. I stumbled forward towards her, holding my wand aloft, aiming to curse her – but she, once again, was faster.

“ _CRUCIO!_ ”

I fell to the ground, screaming in pain, unable to come out of it – I wondered idly in my head if this would be the end –

“AURGH!”

I looked up to see that Blue had grabbed onto Umbridge’s wand arm, biting it and pulling it away from the rest of her body. I heard the shoulder pop out and Blue fell back to the ground, running away up the stairs. I weakly sprinted after her, unwilling to let her die for me.

“YOU ANIMALS!” Umbridge shrieked, her robes now covered with blood. I could still feel some trickle from my head, and it was making me whoozy. I stumbled up the stairs and collapsed at the top of them, slumped against the ground and panting heavily.

“I will have your head for this – the Minister will understand – oh ys, you have made trouble for us for far too long –“ Umbridge was hissing, walking up the stairs. I managed to pull myself off the ground; I had no clue where Blue had gone. Umbridge saw that I was getting up and lunged; I stumbled past her, hitting the wall in my exhaustion. I was losing too much blood; I was in trouble – I gripped the railing of the stairs and fell down them, landing on the ground in a heap.

“ _Vulnera Sanentur!_ ” McGonagall cast. I looked up weakly to feel the cut on my head heal; I breathed heavily and stumbled to my feet.

“I _told you_ not to interfere!” Umbridge screeched.

“I will interfere if I see you are on the verge of killing a student, Dolores!” McGonagall roared.

“ _STUPEFY!_ ” Umbridge screamed. McGonagall was thrown off of her feet and onto the floor, collapsed in a heap. Students all around were now screaming at the scene; other professors were rushing to McGonagall’s aid. I looked up at Umbridge, crouching low against the ground, holding both of my remaining knives in my hands defensively.

“You are a wild, feral animal,” Umbridge hissed at me, “And I must put you _down_.”

“I’d like to see you try!” I screamed, managing to gather my energy together to run forward and leap up into the air, kicking her in the shoulder and falling back behind her. I hissed at her, my hair fallen loose from the ponytail from the activity, falling all over my face in a messy heap. Umbridge raised her wand and cast another spell at me; I ducked out of the way rapidly, rolling over on the floor and standing up again, crouching low and hissing at her. Snape appeared to be making a move towards Umbridge from behind; I raised up my knife and poised myself as Umbridge raised her wand.

“You will pay for this,” she hissed. I thrw my knife at her and it skinned her side; she screamed in pain and then slashed her wand in the air again. I felt a long, deep gash grow on my own side and I fell to the ground, clutching it, wet blood pouring onto my hands.

“ _Vulnera Sanentur!_ ” Snape called out, revealing his position behind Umbridge. She responded instantly.

“ _Stupefy!_ ” she screeched, and Snape was thrown onto the ground same as McGonagall. The other professors were gathering around the fallen ones and draggin them out of the way, and Dumbledore was no where to be seen. Umbridge raised her wand and I was out of knives and I couldn’t reach my wand fast enough to get back at her.

“Any last words?” she hissed quietly. Students were screaming again and I spit out a mouthful of blood from one of the times I had fallen.

“Fuck you,” I growled. She lifted up her wand and opened her mouth and then –

From the staircase, a ball of blue and tan feathers seemed to leap from nowhere; flying from the banister and deftly aiming towards Umbridge. I watched with my mouth open in shock as the feathery mass landed on Umbridge’s face, the force of the impact tackling her to the ground. I stumbled forward as Umbridge screamed at the top of her lungs, Blue holding onto her face with her sickle claws on her foot, her wings flapping like mad so she could stay balanced on top of Umbridge. She was clawing at Umbridge with her feet and her mouth, and Umbridge was screaming and trying to break free, but Blue’s flapping was keeping her locked on tight.

“ _BLUE!_ ” I screamed.

She was in the process of biting something off of Umbridge – she looked up at me with a chunk of skin in her mouth that she swallowed immediately. Blood was pouring from the wound and Umbridge had stopped screaming; in fact, blood was pouring from every inch of her face. I hurriedly pulled out my wand from my pocket.

“Accio knives!” I shouted, and my weapons returned to me, and I quickly stuffed them into my sweatshirt. Blue was still looking at me expectantly and I whistled, moving towards the front door. Blue immediately followed me and I picked her up in my arms again – curse raptors not actually being that fast – and ran out of the hall into the Grounds, stumbling slightly from my injuries as I managed to crash into the forest. I stumbled forward to the clearing where the others were waiting, all looking terrified – that must have taken forever. I fell to the ground, dazed and confused with the shock of the events, and Blue scurried out of my arms.

“Mags!” Neville cried, falling to my side. I felt like I was going to pass out.

“What happened?” Harry roared.

“Umbridge,” I gasped out, gripping Neville – I assumed it was Neville who was holding me – and trying to keep myself awake.

“What did she do?” Hermione sobbed.

But I was too far gone to answer; that was the last thing I remembered before I collapsed.

I don’t quite know how long I was out; but when I came to, it was still daylight – early daylight, in fact, implying that it had been at least a day, if not more. I slowly opened my eyes and looked around in confusion. I was in the middle of a forest, the trees towering above my head, and the brambles and brush underneath my body. I was still in the clothes I had been wearing yesterday. I could feel something warm and soft pressed up against me; I looked down to see that Blue was nesting by my side, looking at me intensely. I groggily forced myself to sit up, looking around in confusion, blinking away the blurriness from my eyes.

“Oh thank god!” a voice – Elena – sobbed somewhere. I blinked more furiously, forcing my surroundings to come into view. I still felt somewhat dizzy and I had to breathe slowly to keep myself upright.

“You’re awake!” I looked to see Neville was sitting behind me – I apparently had been resting my head on his stomach. He immediately supported me in sitting up as I began to topple backward again.

“How… what…” I mumbled softly. Blue chirped at me in happiness, rubbing her head against my stomach. I felt as though I were freezing from head to foot.

“You passed out,” Ginny explained, walking over to me and looking at me in worry, “Neville carried you – and I carried Blue, why the hell is she so slow – and we ran through the forest, we didn’t know if we could go back –“

“And then, well, your dragon friend found us,” Sam snorted, “She can speak English, you should have told us that part. And she carried us to the other side of the mountain and left us there; we’ve been hiding out here ever since, trying to get you to wake up – we didn’t know what to do –“

“All of us but Fred and George still have the trace!” Hermione sobbed, “We couldn’t use any magic – I’ve been searching the woods and getting you different herbs to help you come to –“

“What happened back at the school? What should we be doing?” Ron demanded, looking angry. I felt so overwhelmed I wanted to pass out again. In fact, think back at the sight of Umbridge, her skin torn off of her face –

I turned away from Blue and Neville and vomited violently onto the ground. Everyone shouted in protest as I continued to vomit until everything was out of my stomach. I gagged a little more after that, panting heavily and curling back up on the ground.

“Maggie,” Harry urged. I looked up again and saw all eleven of them – well, twelve, if you included Blue – staring at me fearfully, even George. I swallowd and sat up again, running my hand through my still all over the place hair. I guess I had lost my hair tie in the scuffle.

“Wish Blue could talk for me,” I muttered irritably. Blue made small, squeaky noises of distress at my general condition.

“You gotta tell us what happened, Maggie, come on,” Sam urged.

I took a deep breath, staring at my knees intently. I felt like I was on the roof in London, found by Neville, terrified beyond belief. But I wasn’t in London – and it wasn’t only Neville – and we were all in danger.

I looked back up and at Harry, who was directly cross from me.

“I went into the castle to find Elena – found her in the library –“

“Were you okay?” Hermione asked sharply.

“I was in too much of a hurry to overthink it,” I admitted, “I found her and we ran back to the Slytherin common room – she grabbed her stuff. We were in the Entrance Hall and about to get out when Umbridge found us – Ernie could only hold her back for so long –“

“I’m sorry I left, I just had to get out of there, I didn’t think –“ Elena sobbd.

“It’s okay, she would have eaten you alive,” I shook my head in bemusement, “And she attacked me for a while – I didn’t have time to attack her back, I kept having to use shield charms –“

“You have to be quicker on your feet!” Harry scolded. He looked startled – I could only assume Neville was glaring at him from behind me.

“Er – not the time,” Harry muttered sheepishly.

“So I stopped trying to use magic and I attacked her… the muggle way, I suppose,” I muttered, not wanting to talk about the whole dragon martial art thing at the time, “and she kept cursing me, and at on point she used some sort of spell that gave me a huge gash on my forehead – I was bleeding all over and I was about to pass out, but McGonagall helped me – so Umbridge stunned her – but in the meanwhile she put the cruciatus curse on me at one point, and at another Blue bit off a chunk of her arm and then ran away, so I chased after Blue up the stairs, but I was losing a lot of blood and I collapsed – and _then_ McGonagall healed me – but I was still really weak, I could barely stand up; I managed to get her a few times with knives, but nothing serious; she cut me again with the same spell; Snape came forward to help me but she stunned him, too – she had threatened earlier on that any teacher who helped me would be thrown into Azkaban – and now I was so weak and unable to fight she knew she’d one, and she basically was about to kill me when – when –“ I sobbed heavily, before taking a deep breath to pull myself together, “Blue came back – literally out of nowhere – and leapt onto her face, and she basically clawed it off, and then I called her to come with me and we ran out of there.”

“Holy fuck,” Sam whispered.

“Blue… clawed off her face?” Hermione murmured in awe.

“Yeah… ripped off a chunk of her skin, actually, it was pretty gruesome, actually, hence the… hence the vomit,” I mumbled. Blue chirped at me. I could have sworn she looked _proud_ of herself.

“Will… will Blue eat one of our faces, now that she’s eaten human flesh?” Ron asked nervously.

“I doubt it… she was defending me, not hunting,” I responded, though I felt worry. I looked over at Blue.

“Did she make a move to attack anyone?” I asked, “While I was sick?”

“No,” Neville answered instantly, “She was very cooperative – when we got here she just sat next to you, didn’t attack anyone at all. She’s probably getting hungry, though –“

“That makes two of us,” Ron muttered.

“Alright, I’ll go hunting – does Blue know how to, or should she stay here?” Ginny offered.

“Er – she knows,” I murmured, “You say attack and she’ll go after what you point at – should follow your command, too.”

“Alright,” Ginny nodded, grabbing her own bow and arrows that she had the wherewithal to grab, whistling to Blue. She looked up and followed Ginny, and the two of them went off into the woods together. I watched them go in worry – what if something terrible happened to them –

“Umbridge was about to kill you, and she had already greatly abused you,” Hermione pointed out reasonably, “Blue was defending you.”

“Yeah, I know,” I acknowledged, “It was still… startling.”

“We’re just glad you’re okay – dittany worked wonders, Hermione’s brilliant –“ Harry sighed.

“I was so worried,” Neville murmured, terrified, into my hair. I turned around to face him – he was as white as a sheet.

“So what do we do now?” George asked grimly from somewhere else in the clearing. I felt my entire body freeze up – I hadn’t had to deal with George around this few people in… in… since June. Not for long periods of time, at any rate. Neville wrapped his arms tightly around me in response, immediately knowing why I had become tense.

“We… we have to keep moving,” I managed to choke out, “If Umbridge is alive – if she _isn’t_ alive – we’re in grave danger – we have to… we have t-to…”

“So we’re on the run now? All of us? For something you two did?” George snapped furiously.

“Oh give it a rest, George,” Fred yelled, “We’ve pulled our share of crap over the past year of school. Umbridge tortured those two and she associates all twelve of us together. None of us would have been spared – we’d all have been expelled, or thrown into Azkaban. Get your head out of your ass.”

“Harry, Hermione, and them, sure – but we might not have –“

“She hates us nearly as much as she hates them – we’re in too deep, stop being a prat,” Fred snapped, “If you want to try your luck back at Hogwarts – go – I see that going well.”

George glared at Fred and then turned away, sitting on a log farther away in the forest. Fred looked at me and sighed, his face apologetic.

“He’s been pissy ever since you two got together. I’m sorry,” Fred muttered. I didn’t want to know what expression Neville had on his face about that. I could only assume that it wasn’t a good one.

“Not your fault, Fred,” I grunted, trying to sit up more, “Don’t worry about it –“

“You should be lying down,” Neville murmured behind me. I grumbled in annoyance.

“Yeah, lying down in the brush sounds really comfy, I’ll do that,” I muttered. Neville wrapped his arms around me from behind and then helped me up.

“Come on – I’ll make a better surface – here,” Neville soothed, putting me up on another log. I sat, hunched over in pain, watching as he pulled out the swaters and sweatshirts he had stuffed into his bag. He put thm out on the ground, spreading thm out as neatly as he could.

“You n-need to wear those –“ I protested.

“Not right now, I don’t,” Neville shook his head, “Come on.” He helped me lie back down and I managed to curl up on the clothing, aching from my head to my toes with pain. He sat behind me again and pulled my head up into his lap, and the sensation was so soothing I already felt as though I was falling asleep.

“It’s okay, Maggie. If something happens I’ll wake you up,” Neville soothed. I nodded tiredly and pretty soon dozed off, unwilling to think of what was happening at that moment quite yet.

When I woke up, it was to the sound of whispering around me; I could tell before I opened my eyes that it was much darker out, perhaps even nighttime.

“What I don’t understand, is why Dumbledore wasn’t there –“

“You’d think he’d have come with the other professors. Did Umbridge get to him first?”

“Arresting Dumbledore’s not something she’d keep quiet…”

“Maybe he escaped!”

“McGonagall and Snape are pretty screwed though – not that I care about Snape but…”

I stirred, sitting up at last and rubbing my forehead. Everyone immediately stopped talking and looked at me in worry. There was a fire going in a small pit, and the others were all sitting around it in a circle. Ginny was roasting something large and meaty over the fire, and Blue was sitting next to me, eating some raw meat with what could only be described as an ecstatic temperament.

“How are you doing, Mags?” Neville asked softly. I looked at him and shrugged, still feeling weak.

“Here, have some water,” Hermione urged. I took an old potion bottle that Hermione had fashioned into a water recptical and drank from it, finding the sensation satisfying and wonderful. I looked up around at everyone again, frowning.

“So what’s happened while I was out?” I asked softly.

“We were debating what to do,” Sam admitted.

“We don’t think we can go back – obviously, it’s not safe,” Harry sighed, “But we want to know what the situation is.”

“And we can’t figure that out without revealing ourselves, either by breaking the trace or sending a letter,” Fred scowled, “So we have to figure something out.”

“We need to know what the Ministry wants to do with us, what has happened to McGonagall, Snape, and Dumbledore, and if Umbridge is alive,” Hermione lamented, “And we have no idea how to figure it out.”

“Well, how big is the radius of the trace?” I asked groggily.

“About two hundred feet – and that is a radius,” Hermione admitted.

“The twins should go well over two hundred feet away from us just in case, and try something to get news – patronuses can be used to send messages, do either of you - ?” I asked rubbing my temple with the pain in my head.

“Yeah, we have no idea, were going to wait for Harry on that one,” Fred shrugged.

“I can teach you how hear – and you can practice farther away,” Harry paused, “The incanation is _Expecto patronum_. You caste it by saying the words, and thinking of a happy thought – and I truly mean a happy thought, like the happiest thought you can muster, something deeply and truly joyful. Just keep practicing if you don’t get an animal right away; you’ll get it eventually… I’ve never used it to send messages but I think I saw Aunt Melinda do it once, she talked to it, telling it to go to a certain person and to say the thing she told it to say…”

“Alright,” Fred nodded grimly, “Let’s go try it.” He and George then walked away for a long time, leaving the rest of us around the fire.

“How are you feeling in general?” Neville asked softly.

“A little woozy,” I admitted, sitting up and looking at him sadly.

“Here,” Ginny offered. She held out to me a piece of cooked – whatever it was, but I didn’t question. I gobbled it hungrily, closing my eyes with the satisfaction of the moment.

“What do we do now, besides get word back from the Order?” Sam frowned greatly.

“We have to keep moving,” I muttered gruffly, “We’re on the run, now. We keep going and we never stop, we have to move a lot in order to avoid detection. Keep to the woods, angle around the coast, that sort of thing.”

“Are we aiming to _get_ anywhere?” Claire snapped, glaring furiously.

“London,” I sighed, “It’s far, but it’s a huge city, and it’ll be harder to find us there. Plus, it’s so far they won’t expect us to walk that whole way. If we take a wandering path – don’t make our movements obvious – we can manage it. Then, in London, we have a place we can stay in – a flat,” I grimaced in pain, “We shouldn’t risk Headquarters – dunno if the Order is found out about or not.”

“Also, if the Order has managed to remain undected, we shouldn’t risk going to Headquarters, we don’t want any of them to know where we are in case Umbridge interrogates them,” Elena murmured worriedly.

“Indeed. And the flat is secret kept,” I paused, “The only problem is… er… not everyone knows the secret here…”

“I guess we have to go to Headquarters, then?” Neville groaned.

“One of us can, and get slips from your Gran,” Hermione offered, “And then bring them back. By that point we will have been gone so long that they wouldn’t necessarily be questioned right away – and if we manage to get away with only your Gran knowing, she can’t tell anyone anything anyway, as she’s the secret keeper.”

“I could go into Headquarters with Harry’s invisiblity cloak and wait for her,” Neville nodded, “I’d be creepy as hell, but I could do it.”

“The only _other_ problem with the flat is, of course, that it’s tiny as hell, and the four of us barely fit,” I muttered, “But I really don’t think we should risk Headquarters, not when we don’t know what happened to Dumbledore.”

“For all we know, they know about it,” Sam muttered angrily, “If there was a way to reach Neville’s gran without going back there…”

“We might think of something as we walk, but we have to aim for London anyway,” Ginny shrugged, looking grim.

“I think maybe I could risk going to a post office,” Luna said airly, “A magical one, of course, but I don’t think people notice me as well as they notice you.” 

“We can try it,” Ron paused, looking concerned, “But we shouldn’t try Hogsmeade.”

“Alright, so we know where we’re going,” I grunted, trying to sit up. Immdiately, Neville urged me back into a seated position.

“Mags, you can’t, you’re still weak –“

“We should get moving!” I hissed furiously, “We’re still very close to Hogwarts, we shouldn’t stay in one place too long –“

“We need to sleep,” Harry responded angrily, “ _You_ need to sleep. We’ll head out in the morning. We’re far enough away that Umbridge – if she’s alive – won’t guess we’re here, we’re deep in the forest. She probably expects us to still be in the Forbidden Forest, or on the mountain or something. We have to rest up, and then we can get moving again.”

I sighed and nodded. The hairs on the back of my neck and arms were standing up again; it was the beginning of August again, and I was homeless in London. Except, at least, I wasn’t alone.

We all sat around the fire silently; all of us eating pieces of the unnamed meat Ginny had caught. Blue, satisfied from her meal, had settled into a peaceful sleep. I couldn’t sleep. I was too terrified that Umbridge would come after me. After a while, when my eyes were finally beginning to droop, George and Fred returned, both looking at us with smiles on their faces.

“Well, it took _ages_ , but we finally did it!” Fred cheered.

“Mine was a hyena, and Fred’s was a wild dog,” George explained calmly.

“We sent the message to Sirius as well as to Lupin – non parental Order Members, you know?” Fred continued, “Said, ‘ _The Twelve are safe in the woods. Wish to know word on Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Snape, as well as Order status. Will be on the move._ ’”

“That’s good, Fred,” Hermione nodded, “Good job.”

“Thanks,” Fred muttered awkwardly; I’m usre the two hadn’t interacted much since breaking up, “So… now what?”

“We rest, and then we get moving. We’re angling to London. We’re going to try and kip out at the flat, not Headquarters, just in case the Order is compromised. Neville just needs to get word to his Gran so she can give you lot the secret,” Harry explained quickly.

“That’s going to be more than a month of walking!” George shouted.

“Yeah, if we do it properly, then we can evade the Ministry,” Ginny rolled her eyes, “We have to be careful.”

Neville had buried his face in my hair again; I knew he was trying to hide whatever facial expression he was throwing at George. George sat down on a log, glaring out into the forest.

“We should take watch, yeah?” Ron asked, “Make sure no one comes after us?”

“We can do it in shifts. Maggie shouldn’t have to take one today,” Harry sighed.

“Nor should Neville,” Ginny frowned, “I mean, he had the cruciatus curse put on him, after all –“

“That was more than a day ago,” Neville shook his head, “I’m fine.”

“Alright, well, I’ll still take first watch,” Ron shrugged, “I’m not particularly tired or anything.”

I could feel my eyelids drooping again; I was still extremely weak.

“You need more food,” Hermione responded to the sight immediately.

“What did everyone bring with them?” I asked weakly.

“Mostly the essentials,” Harry sighed, “Clothes, wands, weapons. No time to grab much else.”

“We need to… steal some supplies. Find the nearest village and steal some money,” I grunted, “Buy some sleeping bags, stuff like that.”

“Really? Stealing?” Elena asked with a frown.

“It’s how I lived that week,” I muttered, “I had no other option, and nor do we.”

“We’ll deal with that when we find a village,” Harry stated firmly. Hermione had given me another piece of meat and I ate it gladly; wishing I had something else to eat it with, but at least I had food. Neville had pressed his lips to the side of my head; everyone else took that as their cue to go to bed. Or, at least, their cue to look away and do something else; I don’t think anyone was tired enough to sleep.

I turned to Neville, looking at him desperately. The fear and horror in his eyes was painful to have to see. I leaned up and kissed him, wrapping my arms all around him and holding him to me. He pulled back from the kiss and rested his forehead on mine, his eyes closed.

“I love you,” I murmured softly, as quietly as I could, so as to not disturb the others.

“I love you,” he responded with equal quiet. We continued to rest for a minute before I nestled deeper into his arms, trying to somehow relax and maybe stay conscious for longer than a half hour. I wasn’t much in the mood for talking.

“Wonder how long it takes for patronuses to come back?” Fred asked after a while, when my eyes were drooping again and Neville’s fingertips were stroking my arm.

“It shouldn’t be long, now, if there weren’t any problems,” Hermione acknowledged.

I sighed, heavily, now awake again and anxious for news. I looked up at Neville who looked down at me in worry; he leaned down and kissed me very softly again, in a way that could only have been described as tasteful.

“Alright,” George suddenly said very loudly, making me jump

“Alright… what?” Sam asked with a frown.

“I can’t do this. I can’t travel with you lot for a month and then live with you in a tiny flat. I’m sorry, not with _them_ acting like _that_ ,” George snarled. I felt my face pale of all color and I retreated into Neville’s arm. I was scared beyond belief at his threatening tone; I could feel every inch of my body start to shake like a leaf. Neville’s grip on my arm was tighter than it had ever been.

“Oh come on, man, Ginny’s with them and she’s fine –“ Sam sighed.

“They were never serious! And besides, they didn’t’ break up because he was falling in love with Maggie!” George roared, “No, they parted amicably!”

“Fred and I are alright,” Hermione whispered softly, though her hands were shaking at her sides.

“Yeah, I don’t mind making this journey with her, we have to,” Fred agreed.

“Well, I don’t know why you split up, but I can’t stand looking at _that_ ,” George hissed furiously.

“Shut the fuck up, George, and deal with it,” Ginny snapped.

“What the hell –“

“You heard her!” Harry roared, “You have no idea what you’re talking about right now and frankly if you can’t deal with this, then go!”

“I can’t believe you all are taking her side –“

“You’re the one acting ridiculous,” Sam snorted.

“Maggie is the one who has acted ridiculous! Acting like I hurt her,” George laughed humorlessly. His words were terrifying me so much that I had crunched up into a ball, my knees pulled up to my chest as tightly as they could go.

“Just be careful, Neville. It all seems like it’ll be fine now, but just you wait, you’ll just turn around one day and she’ll have fallen for Sam or something –“

I looked up at that, over at Sam. We both started shaking our heads, grimacing, at the very thought. Neville, however, was growling softly next to me. George opened his mouth again, but I knew what was coming – Neville wasn’t waiting any longer.

Neville jumped to his feet and pointed his finger angrily at George, “Shut up, George. You have no fucking idea what even happened.”

“Of course I –“

“YOU HAVE NO BLOODY CLUE, YOU ASSHOLE!” Neville roared. Everyone looked at him in shock, except Hermione, Harry, and Ginny, who were all nodding. Neville looked back at me, presumably for permission. I nodded my head in affirmation.

“DO YOU EVEN REALIZE WHAT YOU DID?” Neville continued, his stance now even more confident at my agreement.

“What are you even on about –“

“YOU RAPED MAGGIE!” Neville screamed.

A complete, dead silence fell over everyone. Elena had dropped her book – how she had grabbed one I had no idea – on the ground in shock. Fred’s face drained of all color. Sam’s face immediately twisted into a furious glare.

George looked absolutely shocked; he opened his mouth wordlessly for a long moment, before whispering, “No I – no I didn’t –“

“YES, YOU DID!” Neville screeched.

“Did she… is that what she…”

“SHE TOLD ME WHEN I FOUND HER!” Neville continued at the same volume, “THAT’S WHY SHE COULDN’T GO TO HEADQUARTERS! SHE WAS BLEEDING _SCARED_ OF YOU YOU HORRIBLE PERSON!”

“Wha – why didn’t you say…” George was trying to look at me, now, but Neville stepped in front of me.

“YOU’VE LOST EVERY RIGHT TO TALK TO HER!” Neville roared.

“Why didn’t she tell me, if that’s what happened?!” George shouted back, “I remember that night, it was consensual –“

“NOT IT FUCKING WELL WASN’T! BET YOU WEREN’T EVEN LISTENING TO HER, YOU PRAT!” Neville screamed, “AND SHE DIDN’T TELL YOU BECAUSE SHE WAS AFRAID OF YOU! SHE ONLY TOLD ME, HARRY, AND HERMIONE, AND GINNY!”

“She’s making it up,” George muttered, “She’s trying to –“

“Why,” Hermione growled soflty, “Would she make it up, and then not tell anyone?”

“To get you all on her side!” George snapped.

“I think if that was the case she’d tell more people,” Harry stated dully.

“I fucking hate you, George,” Ginny spat on the ground, “I can’t believe you.”

“That’s not what happned! I didn’t rape her!” George roared.

“YES YOU DID!” Neville screamed. I was shaking from head to foot, trying to not collapse in a pit of flashbacks and terror –

“Fred! Fred, you believe me right?” George asked Fred desperately.

Fred was looking at George in horror, his mouth open, and he swiftly closed it when George looked at him. He shook his head slowly, his eyes wide with shock.

“What – what – I’m your _twin_ –“

“Maggie’s been acting strange ever since you broke up,” Fred whispered softly, “She – she was traumatized, George. I could see it in how she reacted to me versus you. She sees me, she’s happy and excited. She sees you – it’s like she’s under the cruciatus curse – I can’t – I…”

“WHAT?!” George screamed loudly, “I didn’t rape her! I didn’t! She’s making it up – you’re making it up, you want to get me into trouble!”

“SHE ISN’T MAKING IT UP!” Neville shouted.

“We just had sex! I was there! I would know!” George roared.

“You don’t rmember what happened,’ I finally murmured. Neville leapt slightly in shock.

“Mags, you don’t have to –“

“You don’t remember what happened,” I murmured again. Everyone fell, hushed, once again.

“You were drunk,” I continued, talking now to my knees. Blue had woken up at all the shouting and was rubbing up against me in comfort, “You were drunk, and you didn’t know what you were saying.”

“Maggie, you don’t have to –“ Harry whispered hoarsely.

“You kept… you kept telling me… to… you kept telling me to prove… I loved you,” I murmured very quietly to my knees, “I said I did. You said prove it. I… I said no… I said no… I said _no_ …”

A sob wracked through my body against my permission, I swallowed and closed my eyes tightly.

“I kept saying no… and you kept going…”

“Where did this happen?” Claire murmured quietly.

“Library,” I whispered hoarsely.

“Maggie hasn’t gone to the library all year,” Elena gasped in realization.

“Maggie doesn’t sleep in the Gryffindor Tower anymore…” Ron whispered.

“Maggie flinches whenever George gets close to her…” Sam muttered.

“Never doubt the victim,” Luna murmured, in a voice that had more clarity and logic than I had ever heard from her, “Very, very few rape accusations are false. Most of the time, accusations don’t come forward at all. I expect Maggie didn’t want to say anything because she was afraid we would doubt her word, especially since George’s version of events was much different.”

I nodded rapidly against my knees; tears were pooling in my eyes again and I couldn’t look at anyone.

“My mum was raped,” Luna explained quietly, “When I was very little. Long before she died.”

“I… I can’t believe…” George was stammering now.

“You said yourself you didn’t really remember what happened that night,” Fred said in a very quiet, very deadly voice.

“I… no… I didn’t…”

“You did it, you prat, and fess up to it!” Harry shouted. But apparently no one gave him the chance to do so; I heard a loud _smack_ as someone’s fist hit someone else’s face. I looked up to see that Neville had punched him, hard; George was on the ground, clutching his nose and moaning.

“I don’t care if he doesn’t confess, he did it, Maggie would never lie to me!” Neville roared. I watched as George stumbled to his feet, still holding his bleeding nose, and looking around at everyone glaring at him.

“What do you even remember,” Fred hissed.

“I… remember going into the library… and Maggie being there… and being upset we hadn’t seen each other for a while… and wanting her to… to admit she loved Neville… I don’t… I registered the next day we had… but I was so drunk…” George was stammering. He looked to me again and I couldn’t help it; I flinched.

“Did… you really say no?” he asked quietly.

I nodded again, pressing my forehead against my knees. There was another loud _crack_ ; I looked up to see that Fred had punched George now, and George was on the ground again, clutching his eye.

“I can’t believe you! I can’t believe you did that! Who _are_ you?” Fred screamed.

George stumbled to his feet; he looked around at everyone glaring at him with loathing. I looked back down at my knees.

“I… I… I’m going to go,” he whispered hoarsely. I heard the sound of him grabbing his bag; I could hear the sound of leaves crunching as he left the group. I looked up to see him disappear into the trees. Neville was panting heavily with hatred and fury; I didn’t even know what to say.

“I’m… I’m so sorry,” Fred whispered after a long while, looking at me desperately, “I had no idea – but I understand if you want me to go, too –“

“No,” I shook my head, “That’s the thing about… something like that. I can tell you two apart very well now.”

“Alright,” Fred muttered, though he looked so guilty I actually felt a little sorry for him. He walked to the edge of the group and sat on the ground, curled into a ball, staring out into the forest.

I turned away and curled up on the forest floor, Neville soon coming up behind me. All I wanted to do, again, was sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, only one chapter today - this was a jam packed one and then there was a lot of drama in my life (I have a skype chat with my friends and one of my friends used the R word, refused to apologize for it, and then yelled at me for calling him out on it, and then he left the chat. And then, on my dinosaur blog, someone sent me a really creepy message - think sexual assault in anonymous tumblr message format.) Anyway, so I only had time to write the one. At any rate, don't worry - George gets way more than just this, this is the beginning of a long arc with that.   
> PLEASE comment, they really have slowed to a trickle and it's made me sad! Getting positive feedback on my work is what drives my writing; it's extremely important to me! Thanks :)


	74. Chapter Seventy - Three: February 17 - March 2, 1996, West Highlands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Why am I here? 
> 
> Who could I be? 
> 
> Could I be the hero? Could I be the villain? Trying to be productive, trying to make a living 
> 
> Inside this world, somehow I do 
> 
> Looking at the glass, ceiling reminiscing, pistol in my hand, hatred in my heart 
> 
> I'm sorry for, painting that view 
> 
> View of violence, into your subconscious, what the TV does too 
> 
> I mean who could you blame? 
> 
> I mean who could you blame? 
> 
> Cause we're 
> 
> Trapped in the vine 
> 
> Feel left behind 
> 
> Moon walking for, what you losing your mind? 
> 
> You're losing your mind 
> 
> C'mon, lost souls." 
> 
> ~ Raury, "Lost Souls".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Some slight sexual content at the end

Chapter 73: February 17 – March 2, 1996, West Highlands

I woke up the next morning having a lot of trouble believing what had happened to me over the past few days. I squeezed my eyes tightly shut, hoping that maybe if I just willed it, I would wake up in my bed, in Hogwarts, next to Neville, and maybe I would roll over and kiss him, and never stop kissing him, and everything would be okay –

“Maggie? Maggie, get up, we have to go,” Neville murmured quietly in my ear. I looked up and at him, frowning heavily.

“Why?” I whispered groggily.

“We have stayed in the same place too long. It’s time to move,” he continued. I sat up and blinked my eyes rapidly, trying to clear them of the cloudiness of the morning. Everyone was moving around us, gathering up their things and making sure nothing was left behind. I stumbled to my feet, which made me feel woozy; Neville quickly grabbed me and held tightly to my arms, looking at me in worry.

“Guys, I don’t know if Maggie can travel yet,” Neville muttered.

“Well, we’re going to have to figure something out, because we need to move,” Sam sighed.

I groaned and tried to dislodge myself from Neville’s arms; he made loud sounds of protest as I managed to stumble forward and grab a large stick off the ground. It was much too thin to hold me up properly; the moment I leaned on it it broke and I fell to the ground as a result, hitting my head on something hard. I cried out in pain and rolled onto my side, tears leaking out of my eyes.

“That went well,” Sam commented sarcastically.

“Maggie, oh please be okay,” Neville gasped, running towards me.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I muttered softly, sitting up and trying to not feel dizzy anymore. Neville helped me up again, completely supporting me as he did so. Everything sort of felt like it was spinning.

“So, no way of moving, then?” Harry groaned.

“Like hell there isn’t,” Neville grunted, picking me up in his arms and carrying me again. I could feel the strain of his arms as he did so and I made sounds of protest. He couldn’t carry me for longer than five minutes.

“Let me go! You’ll drop me! Neville come on!” I shouted.

“Mate, that isn’t a solution,” Fred sighed.

“I – can – do – it!” Neville grunted, but I could see his face was nearly purple with pain.

“No, you can’t,” Harry grunted angrily, grabbing me forcefully and helping me down from his arms. Neville looked furious, but his arms also appeared to be significantly like jelly and he sighed in defeat.

“Look, I’ll just help her walk, and we’ll all take turns doing it. Means we have to go pretty slowly, but it won’t be long until she’s better enough to walk on her own. We have to do it like this, okay?” Harry urged.

“Alright,” Neville muttered in irritation. I reached out and held his hand and he squeezed mine back tightly. We all started walking then, heading off through the forest, angling ourselves around the mountains in order to go around them, as they were on the north side of Hogwarts. I hated walking like this; I felt completely helpless but I also knew every time I tried to stand up on my own, I instantaneously felt woozy and ill, and had to collapse.

“So did we get the patronus back?” I asked hoarsely after about an hour of silently walking. After all, we didn’t want to draw attention to ourselves.

“Yeah,” Fred responded grimly. He looked positively depressed, as though if we weren’t in this situation, he might even off himself. The thought did not help my own mental state.

“And?”

“Well, Dumbledore realized that Umbridge was going to pull something with you two,” Hermione sighed heavily, “So he tried to stop her. She actually attacked him and stunned him, hence he wasn’t there when you were fighting.”

“Fucking –“

“When he came to he had to run away, of course. I mean if Umbridge told the Ministry the events would be that he attacked her. I mean, he’s not really in hiding, he’s doing work for the Order,” Hermione continued, “But still, it’s not good.”

“What else happened? Did anyone else get hurt? What happened to McGonagall and Snape?” I asked hurriedly, now feeling a panic.

“McGonagall and Snape are currently in Azkaban,” Hermione sighed heavily.

“ _No –_ “

“Yeah, Umbridge is alive,” Harry finished grimly, “And she pretty much has a warrant out for your head.”

“Fuck,” I muttered, “You guys should leave, she doesn’t –“

“She wants my head too,” Neville shrugged, “And she’s on the look out for all of us. Kingsley told us.”

“We’re all screwed. She also says to kill Blue on sight,” Harry sighed.

Blue chirped at me proudly. I wanted to reach down and hug her, even though she wasn’t the hugest fan of that; Harry kept me standing up.

“How is she even alive? Blue basically tore apart her face, I saw the blood, it was _mental_ , no one should have been able to survive that!” I gasped, feeling panic enter my heart. How had she lived? She was basically destroyed, there was no way she should have been able to survive. I had been so sure that she was gone, out of my life, forever…

“She had let the Ministry know she was going to attempt to trick you and Neville into revealing the D.A. Backup got there just as you were leaving,” Hermione sighed mournfully, “You must have just gotten away.”

I sighed heavily, leaning against Harry with the weight of my horror.

“So I’m going to be on the run for the rest of my life,” I grunted angrily, “As there’s no way Voldemort’s return will ever persuade anyone that I was just defending myself –“

“You _were_ defending yourself,” Hermione reassured, “If Voldemort’s return is known, McGonagall and Snape can vouch for you. Frankly, I’m sure almost every student who saw what happened can vouch for you.”

“Yeah, that’ll work out well,” I commented sarcastically. I was huffing with the effort of walking; whatever Umbridge had done to me, it had not been good.

“At any rate, the Order told us to stay hidden. They didn’t say where, though, so moving towards London isn’t going to hurt. We should avoid any major towns and especially avoid any of our homes,” Hermione finished, “And also, let’s all keep in mind that now most Order members – including our relatives – are in hiding.”

“What’s happened to your parents, Hermione?” I asked, frowning.

“I don’t know. The patronus didn’t say, but I assume since they are muggles the Ministry isn’t even bothering with them,” Hermione grunted in annoyance, “I hope they just stay hidden. I won’t try to contact them… that way if they try to contact me at Hogwarts or something, it will give them plausible deniability as to my whereabouts…”

“Unless they send the owl directly to you,” Claire pointed out.

“They would send it to Hogwarts, they don’t really understand how owl post works,” Hermione explained.

“I hope our families can stay hidden,” I grunted softly with the effort of moving. Everything ached all over. Harry urged me on, guiding me with his arm to force me to keep walking. I felt like all of my limbs were going to fall off, and I continued to feel exceptionally dizzy as we made our way through the forest, finally coming up to a clearing where the sun actually beat down on us.

“Alright, let’s stop for a bit,” Harry grunted. He helped to sit down against a tree, and I immediately closed my eyes, completely exhausted. Everyone else set down their items around me, taking the lead. Neville immediately sat next to me and wrapped his arms around my shoulders, holding me tightly.

“How are you doing, love?” he asked very quietly. I shrugged, looking up at him weakly.

“I am exhausted,” I muttered.

“It’s been a long few days,” Neville agreed, “And walking cannot be helping your injuries.”

“No,” I agreed softly, “I feel like I’m dying.”

Neville made a sound of sadness and quickly pulled me deeper into his arms, holding me as tightly as he could. I sighed in contentment and buried myself there, looking up at him and kissing him very softly. I put my hand on his cheek and he shifted me so I was sitting on his lap and basically completely wrapped up in him, which was one of the most comforting feelings in the world. He pulled back from me and kissed me lightly on the nose, looking at me desperately.

“That was one of the most terrifying moments of my life,” he whispered softly.

“Which one?” I asked.

“When she was torturing you in the office… I didn’t know what to do,” he was sniffling, “I didn’t know how to help you or what to s-say…” he started sobbing now, “What if you h-h-had gone insane and I l-lost you forever…”

“Oh Nev,” I whispered, “Oh Nev.”

He continued sobbing loudly and heavily and I held him as lovingly as I could, gently stroking his face and wiping the tears from his eyes. If anyone else noticed his emotional reaction, they didn’t comment on it. I began crying myself, remembering the sight of him getting tortured, and we cried together for what was probably a very long period of time. Eventually, however, we both ran out of tears, and I simply rested my head on his chest.

“I wish we could just run away,” he murmured softly.

“I tried that, remember? Couldn’t really deal with the guilt,” I admitted.

“Well… I don’t want to deal with this war anymore. I don’t want to see you hurt anymore. It’s barely started and I can’t bear it,” Neville whispered as quietly as he could, so no one could hear him but me. Everyone else was talking quietly by the fire that someone had set up. I sighed and looked up at him, kissing him softly.

“I know, honey, but we can’t leave. Come on, let’s try to sleep,” I urged. He nodded and we curled up around each other on the ground. Blue, who had been sitting off at a distance during our moment of despair, quickly toddled over to us, lying next to me. Her warm, fluffy body pressed up against me, and Neville was pressed up behind me, and I felt like I was in a cocoon of safety as I drifted off to sleep.

It continued on like that for a while; I needed help walking, none of us talked, Ginny would hunt as we moved and we’d eat meat and maybe some mushrooms, berries, nuts and herbs if Hermione could find them. The malnutrition was decidedly not helping me recover, but there wasn’t much I could realistically do about that, and I refrained from complaining.

We moved slowly, given my injuries, which means we didn’t make it very far the first few days. After all, we were going from one of the most northern corners of the island, and we had to get down to one of the most southern parts. None of us were very eager or happy to move quickly, when we already had such a long journey ahead of us as it was. We had to conserve at least some of our energy. Blue also wasn’t much faster than I was, so waiting for her was helpful.

Talking wasn’t really something we did, though we probably could have gotten away with _some_ communication. But no one seemed to want to speak. I didn’t know why, but I knew when I had my strength back I would demand answers. Everyone kept giving me worried glances all the time, which at first I assumed was because of my injuries, but as I began to recover I had a funny feeling it was about more than that.

 _This is why I didn’t want to tell anyone_ , I thought grimly as we made our way through a deep, overgrown field. Everyone was worrying about me when I just wanted us to focus on reaching London, a place big enough to hide us and civilized enough to care for us.

Everyone was paranoid as well; every little noise or flutter in the forest or in the wilderness would make us jump. No one could sleep very long, given the lack of good beds (or anything like a bed at all) and our constant fear. If Umbridge found us, she would probably slaughter us instantly – and if anyone else found us, we would be sent to Azkaban. There was no good scenario there. Harry constantly twitched in his sleep, as well; the stress from walking and the terror at every twig snapping and bird flying was leaving him in a completely emotionally charged state. There was no way he was practicing his Occlumency.

The thought drove me to actually break the silence. I walked up to Hermione when we had set up camp; she was sitting against another tree and was staring out into space. I stumbled to sit next to her, as I was still not quite good at walking on my own.

“Hey,” I greeted quietly.

“Hey,” she responded with equal softness, looking at me worriedly, “How are you doing?”

“Alright,” I grunted, still sore and in pain all over as usual, “But, you know, holding on.”

“Good,” she sighed, “I’m sorry that… the whole blowup happened.”

“It had to happen eventually,” I shrugged, “There wasn’t much of a point in putting it off any longer. Though, I mean, I feel bad that he’s out there by himself…”

“Really?” Hermione snorted, “I do not. Good riddance.”

“Well, I _am_ glad he’s gone,” I admitted.

“Good, you still have your sanity,” Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Are you… worried about Harry?” I asked seriously.

“Completely,” she answered swiftly, “He’s not practicing –“

“Occlumency, yeah, I know. What are the odds Voldemort will find us, though?” I frowned.

“If he can get into Harry’s head, very high, I think,” Hermione frowned, “We need to get him to start practicing again.”

“I mean, we can try, but no one is talking to each other anymore,” I grumbled. Hermione looked at me nervously. I raised my eyebrows in complete confusion.

“What?”

“Well… erm… you were asleep for everything that happened,” Hermione whispered quietly. No one seemed to be listening to us anyway; Neville was playing with Blue and everyone else was in their respective corners, falling asleep or looking like they were about to fall asleep.

“What… happened?” I asked worriedly.

“Oh Merlin,” Hermione sighed heavily, “Well no one was happy about the news, obviously. And everyone was upset in different ways. I mean Ginny basically screamed at Fred for hours, asking him how he possibly couldn’t have known about everything, and Fred looked honestly like he might throw himself off of a bridge or something, and… oh there was just a lot of yelling and being upset and it was very overwhelming. You didn’t need to know about that, but everyone was essentially blaming themselves for what happened. I mean the signs were all there that he would do this, Maggie. He was possessive and controlling of you, he didn’t trust you, he was always forcing you into situations that made you uncomfortable, he was constantly fighting with you over every little thing, and then on top of it I mean he had always been your mentor, it was always a little weird that you two were dating… I just figured it would have culminated in him making you pick him or Neville, and I was just hoping you would come to your senses and pick Neville…”

I swallowed, “Well… if he had presented me with that choice I probably would have picked Neville, honestly. Especially since I was in love with Neville when the problems started.”

“Thank Merlin,” Hermione paused, “Now I wish that had happened. Neville would have been touched, you would have been okay…”

“Well, it didn’t,” I snapped, “He chose another avenue of control.”

Hermione sighed, “I’m sorry.”

I sighed as well, “I’m sorry too. This has all just been overwhelming for me. I’m not really sure how I wanted him to react but it wasn’t like how he did.”

“I’m not quite sure there would have been _any_ good way,” Hermione lamented.

“Yeah there would have been. Him realizing it – proving that he didn’t know what he was doing at the time – and then apologize for it and being really guilty about it – showing he was sorry and accepted blame – and then leaving me alone – realizing that what he did was not something that I could just _get past_ ,” I insisted, “I didn’t really get… any of those things.”

“I think he knows,” Hermione offered.

“If he knows, he has a really funny way of showing it,” I snorted, “And now he’s just reminded me that there is literally no way I will ever feel safe around him for the rest of my life. But I can’t get him locked up in jail, because I didn’t do what I should have right after it happened, because I was in too much shock, so it’s not like I _can_ avoid him, and –“

“Maggie,” Hermione cut me off abruptly, “You do not have to interact with him if you do not want to, okay? Never again, not for the rest of your life.”

I looked at her, sniffled, and nodded.

“By leaving he has given you the greatest gift he possibly could have,” Hermione continued, “ _Closure_. You do not have to think about it anymore; you can put it out of your mind as much or as little as you want.”

I frowned, looking out at all my friends not talking to me. I sighed and stood up weakly.

“Not yet, Hermione. I can’t have closure yet,” I muttered. I walked into the center of the circle and looked around at everyone.

“Listen up!” I shouted. The people falling asleep woke up; Neville looked at me in utter confusion.

“Alright,” I paused, “You all need to realize that what happened to me was the fault of one person,” I held up one finger, “And one person alone. _George_. It is not anyone present in this clearing’s fault. Not yours,” I pointed at Harry, “Or yours,” I pointed at Elena, “And no, not even _yours_ ,” I pointed at Fred, “So everyone, stop blaming yourselves, and start _talking to each other_ again. We need to stick together and trust each other if we’re going to get through this hellscape.”

There was a long, awkward pause in which no one said anything.

“It _was_ my fault, though,” Fred insisted quietly.

“Oh for the love –“

“I didn’t want you two to date! It was completely acceptable for _you_ to like _him_ – I mean we all get crushes on the people we look up to, I was bloody in love with the defense professor we had before Quirrel, Professor Rencor, my whole second year – he went off to fight a vampire but that’s not important – but the whole thing is the person looked up to, the _adult_ , comparatively speaking, is supposed to understand that it’s not a feasible relationship! You were on unequal footing from the beginning! He _knew_ he could control you and so he dated you even though you were in an inferior position to him! And I tried to explain that to him – honestly if we were all equals and he wanted to date you I probably would have been fine with it, a little worried that the friendship would be ruined but not horribly so – but on top of this? It was a recipe for disaster from day one! And he should have known better! But he wouldn’t listen to me! And I couldn’t stop him!” Fred shouted, looking distraught, “And now, because of my stupidity, you are hurt – it’s all my fault –“

“It’s not your fault,” I insisted calmly, “Maybe our relationship was doomed from the start, and maybe there was a higher likelihood of him abusing me in some way. I don’t know. But rape is ultimately up to the perpetrator. It is his choice. No amount of warnings and reprimands would have stopped him. And I wanted to date him, too. If I had found out you had kept us from dating, I would have been outraged. I would have insisted on us dating _anyway_. So there was literally no way of stopping _that_. And the rape you had nothing to do with at all – you said yourself you had no idea our relationship had progressed sexually – for months we had been moving forward faster than I would have liked but I went along with it. If anyone should have seen the warning signs and done something, it was m-“

“NO!” everyone shouted in unison. I jumped in shock.

“Look, Maggie, maybe in hindsight it was predictable, but that’s just it – hindsight is twenty twenty,” Elena responded matter-of-factly, “At the time, you just thought you were going through a rough patch.”

“And at any rate, who could have predicted _George_ would do something like that? He never seems like a bad guy,” Claire agreed, “So even if you had an inkling, no one would have blamed you for ignoring it, given the other evidence available.”

“And even if you _didn’t_ ignore it,” Elena continued, “I bet him yelling at you all the time and essentially controlling how you spent your free time scared you, on some level. I bet you worried somewhere in your brain that breaking up with him would _instigate_ something like this, rather than prevent it…”

I was crying somewhat now, at the truth and pain of their words.

“You were in a tough situation, and that’s the exact sort of thing the people you are close to – _us_ – are supposed to notice,” Elena muttered, “I mean you did the same for me, didn’t you? I was hurting myself – suicidal, even – but even though I didn’t tell you everything, you still knew something was wrong – you still tried to help me. None of us extended that courtesy to you.”

“I’m too secretive and self assured,” I muttered.

“That may be,” Elena acknowledged, “You are very hard to offer help to. But still, we should have insisted.”

“Honestly, it’s very weird to try and butt into someone else’s relationship,” Ginny admitted, “I felt it wasn’t my place. Which was stupid. Abusive behavior is abusive behavior, and it needs to be stopped, regardless of the people involved…”

“We all saw how he treated you; _we_ were all weak for not stopping him,” Neville murmured softly.

“That’s stupid,” I muttered, “I am so stubborn if any of you had confronted me I wouldn’t have listened – I would have stayed with him…”

“That may be, but confronting George my have done something,” Fred grumbled, “And it’s _my_ fault that I didn’t –“

“Let’s all stop blaming ourselves. Maggie, can you do the same?” Harry interrupted. I looked at him and nodded, tears falling from my eyes again.

“Good. The only person who is at fault is George, just like you said. We will all be better at remembering this from now on, and we’ll start actually talking again. That good, Mags?” he continued. I nodded, wiping away my tears hurriedly.

“Great. Night, everyone,” and he returned to his spot in the circle, curling up on the ground. I did the same next to Neville, who was still kissing me softly all over my face as I fell asleep.

Everyone did start talking at least a little bit more after that, but it was still relatively silent and awkward amongst everyone as we made our way through Scotland. I slowly began to walk on my own, though we still were moving at a snail’s pace; I could barely move at all after a few hours of progress.

Two weeks after everything had happened – two weeks of pain, slow movement, and endless highlands around us – we came upon a field, vast and completely empty, as wild as the rest of the Highlands. I frowned as we looked out over the landscape; if there was food to be had here, it wasn’t visible.

“Alright,” Hermione sighed heavily, “Maybe we should just – double back, and look for more tree cover?”

“No,” Harry shook his head, “We press on. It’s not like there aren’t any animals that live out here. We’ll find something.”

Blue, who was exhausted after days of walking, hissed at him, as though she could understand what he was saying. At the very least, she probably understood his tone.

“Not sure we can do that,” I frowned, “We need to follow the tree cover. At the very least, it’s harder to see us – out here in the fields, we’re the only noticeable thing in the landscape. We double back.”

Harry grumbled, but we all moved back into the forest, now following the tree line around the field. The complete lack of civilization anywhere was starting to get to me on some level; from the limited socialization with the others to the sheer amount of boredom in the day to day, I knew I was going a little insane.

“Hey, Fred?” I asked. Fred, who was the only one of the group who hadn’t spoken since we had discussed what happened – and who could blame him – looked at me questioningly. His eyes, however, didn’t meet mine; he merely stared at my feet instead of his own.

“Want to try and figure out where we are? You could go out from us and use magic,” I asked. Fred frowned – again, at my shoes – but nodded. He walked back out into the field, away from us, as the rest of us waited in place. Luna started looking intently at one of the trees.

“I wonder if this bark is edible,” she commented lightly, “It’s possible…”

“I don’t want to eat bark,” Ron grumbled.

“I’m a little sick of eating squirrel,” I rolled my eyes.

“But _bark?_ ” Ron stuck out his tongue in disgust.

“Can you find anything better, then?” Hermione snorted.

“We’re going to be here for a bit waiting for Fred! Yeah! I will!” Ron urged, stomping out into the forest. I watched him go in amusement, shaking my head slowly.

“He’ll be back in exactly five minutes,” Ginny snorted. She and Harry were holding hands – had been since our journey started – but at least they actually seemed friendly with one another, unlike before, when every interaction between everyone was forced.

I went out into the woods, still moving slowly, looking around at all the trees. Blue was following me, as though we were going hunting; I just wanted to be able to hear myself think, instead of feeling deafened by everyone around me… _not_ talking.

 _I wish I could stop running_.

I found a tree and looked up into it, hesitating. I was too sore and tired still to try it. Walking nonstop for days and days was not exactly good for my feet and my joints. I wanted to climb up into the tree and look out over the forest.

I also wanted to shift.

My friends were still too close; I really wasn’t supposed to tell anyone, I had told too many people already. If I shifted and they saw, I would be in trouble. I had to control myself. Also, who even would know how Blue would react to _that_ situation.

I kept moving past the tree, walking through the brambles and the undergrowth, Blue happily keeping up with me and looking around at everything near us. It was also nice not to be around the others staring at me constantly. Sure, Hermione Harry Neville and Ginny didn’t, but everyone else did, and that was the majority.

 _I get it, you’re worried about me_ , I thought angrily, _but I’ve dealt with this reality for nearly a year. I don’t need you all fretting over me twenty-four seven._

I finally stopped in a tight grove of trees, walking into the middle of them and sitting down on a log. I was tired, exhausted even; I had been moving for far too long at this point. I needed to stop. I needed to be allowed to _rest_.

“Mags?”

I looked up and saw Neville approaching me; the sight of him made me smile, though it was the only thing that did these days. He came up to me and sat next to me on the log, immediately wrapping his arms around me.

“How are you doing?” he asked quietly. We couldn’t talk as freely as we wanted to with everyone else around; having only Blue here meant we had actual privacy that we hadn’t had in ages. Blue never cared about what we said or did, so long as we paid her some attention and gave her lots of pets and cuddles, in addition to adequate food. The latter part was hard of late; she had immediately started hissing at a squirrel who had run up a tree, flapping her wings in irritation.

“If only she could still fly,” I commented lightly.

“God help us all, she would be the most terrifying killer in the world,” Neville snorted, pausing for a short bit to look at me, “You didn’t answer my question.”

“I… am exhausted,” I answered honestly, looking quietly ahead of me, “I need to stop moving.”

“Maybe we should stop moving then?” Neville offered.

“And do what? Share campfire stories?” I snorted, “No one talks anymore, at all.”

He sighed heavily, “It’s a hard thing, to learn that one of your friends – in two cases, your relative – did something like that to another friend. They’re processing it. At least they’re on your side.”

“Yeah,” I admitted softly.

“Everyone will be fine, eventually. And besides, this is a nerve-wracking situation. We are on the run for our lives, our freedom, right now. And it’s putting everyone on edge, it’s making everyone tense. You’re tense, too, even if you won’t admit it,” Neville smiled lightly.

“Well, you have to be too, then,” I snorted, squinting at him.

“The tensest,” he agreed, “But I’m not trying to hide it like you are.”

I sighed heavily.

“They don’t need to worry about me any more than they already are,” I muttered softly.

“I agree,” Neville nodded, “But since we’re alone, and god only knows when Fred’s going to get back and we’re going to have to leave, I can help you relieve the aforementioned tenseness?” He smiled softly at me. I knew what he was doing. He was trying to put some normalcy back in my life.

I would gladly accept that.

“Yeah, okay,” I smiled slightly. He immediately turned me around so he as facing my back. He then put his hands on my shoulders and started massaging them. I let out a soft sigh; his hands weren’t skilled or knowledgeable – in fact, I was absolutely certain he had never given a massage in his life. But there was something about his fingers kneading my shoulders and moving down to my shoulder blades that comforted me. It certainly didn’t hurt, and just the care with which he touched me relaxed me all on its own. Still, my sighs now came out when he did something that felt particularly good – when he rubbed a knot in my back with just the right sort of circle, or when he gently caressed the sides of my arms, or when he would lean in and leave small kisses on the back of my neck. He learned from though sighs, and repeated the motions that caused them, leaving me perpetually happy.

He reached for and began massaging gently a rather large knot in the small of my back; the pressure and gentleness of the action both started to ease it as well as send ripples of pleasure throughout my body. I let out a moan without meaning to, and immediately clapped my hand to my mouth in embarrassment. That was probably the most sexual sound I had ever made around him, and we had had some pretty intense snogging sessions at this point. Neville had briefly stopped massaging me, but now had resumed, making the tips of my toes tingle excessively. I tried to not moan again, but I couldn’t help it when he finally forced the knot to uncoil completely, and it was so loud I was worried someone would hear us. At the very least, I would have been mortified if any of our friends had heard that. His hands were still on my back, but they weren’t doing anything; I was hesitant to turn around and look at him, but I knew I had to. So I slowly shifted, my cheeks colored brightly red, to face him.

“So… erm… did that help?” he asked, his voice somewhat high-pitched and squeaky, his face so brightly red he could have posed as a tomato.

“Yeah,” I whispered softly, still flushing madly, “Er… do you want me to try on you?”

“Yeah, okay,” he mumbled, his voice still very high up there. He turned around and I started attempting to rub his shoulders; I had never had to do this before, and I had no clue what I was doing either.

“Ow!” Neville shouted. I jumped in shock.

“Oh – um – I’m sorry –“ I stammered.

“It’s okay,” Neville reassured, his voice suddenly back at its normal pitch, “Just, erm, try to be a little gentler.”

“Okay,” I acknowledged, and now I barely touched him at all, unwilling to hurt him again. I simply glided my fingers over his shoulders slowly, feeling the shape of them.

“Well now I can’t feel that at all,” Neville snorted, turning around to look at me. I blushed furiously in embarrassment.

“Try something in between those two things,” Neville suggested, smiling at me kindly. I nodded and he turned around again, and I started trying to rub his shoulders harder again, digging in to where I knew I had my worst spots –

“Ouch!” Neville grunted, clearly trying to contain his pain. I could practically hear his teeth clench.

I threw my arms up in the air and groaned, “I give up!”

“Oh come on, it just takes practice!” Neville reassured.

“Yeah, practice and talent – I give up,” I grumbled in annoyance, slumping and folding my arms tightly across my chest.

“Oh don’t be like that, sweetie,” Neville urged, reaching over and kissing my cheek, “Come on now.”

I harrumphed and looked up into the trees. Blue had been chasing the squirrel, still, and appeared to be trying to climb the tree without success.

“Come _on_ Mags,” Neville chuckled softly, his hands now on my back again, “I just put all that work into making you feel relaxed…”

I snorted again, but he was already working on my back, in the spot where I had responded so well before – his hands were there, kneading it gently, and I found I had more knots that I wasn’t immediately aware of – I had been tense for, essentially, years… I moaned again, and I could hear him chuckle softly.

“Stop showing off,” I grumbled in annoyance.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked seriously.

I paused for a minute, before sighing, “No.”

“Because I can – obviously I can – I’m sorry, I thought you were enjoying it – I’m an idiot –“

“Neville, it’s okay!” I reassured, turning around to look at him, “It’s fine! I loved it, okay? I was just annoyed you were better at it than me.”

Neville, who had looked terrified before, now looked somewhat relieved, but only slightly.

“Are you sure? I’m sorry,” he mumbled softly.

“I’m absolutely positive. I want you to do that again, quite frankly, I want you to do that all the time,” I reassured, taking his hands in mine and squeezing them tightly. He looked at me, his eyes glistening slightly.

“I just never want to do anything with you that you don’t –“

“I know,” I reassured, “For example, you asked me permission to kiss me even though I’m pretty sure you knew my answer was yes.”

Neville laughed, it hiccupping slightly on the way out. I leaned up and kissed him, and he returned it gently, still clearly checking himself.

“Neville,” I looked at him earnestly, “I love you, and if I want us to stop doing something, I will say so, I promise.”

**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**

“Okay,” he nodded, looking back at me and kissing me softly. I kissed him again, before turning back around expectantly. His movements were initially much more hesitant, but as he slowly moved down my shoulders and back again, he regained his confidence. When he reached that spot again, he was back to his old self, eagerly putting gentle yet firm pressure on my back in rhythmic motions. I could not stop sighing in contentment, which I’m sure only helped reassure him that there was no part of this that wasn’t consensual. When he managed to tease out of existence one of the deeper, longer existing knots, I let out another moan of pleasure. The feeling spread from my back to every corner of my body, making my lower abdomen feel as light as a feather.

I couldn’t help myself; I was so exceptionally turned on I immediately turned around on the log and started kissing him, passionately, my tongue digging into his mouth again and me scooting forward on the log to wrap my legs tightly around his waist. He made a sound of surprise as I did this, immediately shift his legs somewhat to support me now sitting in his lap, his arms wrapping around my waist and my shoulders to hold me in place. I swept my tongue over every corner of his mouth like I was searching for treasure, one hand pulling at his now long again hair, the other wrapping around under his arm to grip tightly at his back. He made another sound – this one sounded more like a moan – and he entangled his tongue with mine, running the length of it along the entirety of mine, rubbing up against it slowly and eagerly. I started, essentially instinctually, rubbing my hips up against his, lightly grinding myself against him. He moaned again, and made no move to stop me, as I continued to press my body into his, unable to stop once I had started. It simply felt too wonderful.

My state of arousal now was making me moderately lightheaded; I knew I was wetter down there than I had been… ever, in the entirety of my life. I could feel his own eagerness straining against me, begging to be let free from his pants. In fact, rubbing up against it felt so uncommonly good to me I was loath to stop, increasing the speed with which I did so. He moaned loudly into my mouth, and I moved my hand underneath his layers of sweatshirts, pressing it up against the bare skin of his back.

“Mmmm _Maggie_!” he suddenly groaned into my mouth. I pulled back from him and stopped grinding against him, though it was difficult to force my hips to do so.

“Yeah?” I asked breathlessly, looking at him mostly from beneath my eyelashes, much too excited to have my eyes open any further. His pupils were completely dilated, and he was breathing raggedly, as though he didn’t quite know how to operate lungs anymore.

“This is – we have to – we can’t…” he stammered.

“I didn’t think we would,” I reassured softly.

“I – yeah – er –“ he flushed madly, “I just… could get carried away, see…”

“Yeah, okay,” I agreed, grinning slightly. He leaned up and kissed me again, and I could still feel him straining against me downstairs, and it made me reluctant to get off of him. I started kissing him passionately again, unable to help myself, wanting to feel all of him at once, and never let go.

“Mmmph,” Neville moaned into my mouth, “ _Maggie…_ ”

“Sorry, do you really want me to stop?” I asked softly, looking at him lovingly.

“I… I don’t,” he admitted, “But we should.”

I giggled and kissed him on the tip of his nose, “Alright.” I made a move to get off of him, but he was still holding me kind of tightly, and I could tell he really didn’t want me to. I beamed at him and he kissed me very quickly again before essentially jumping up and walking over to a tree, facing it and seemingly trying to think of anyone but me, or at least, I could only assume so. I walked up behind him and wrapped my arms tightly around his torso, smiling and resting my head on his back.

**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**

“I love you,” I whispered softly.

He turned around and smiled at me lovingly, leaning in to kiss me again. I looked at him joyfully as he responded, “I love you.”

I could deal with being on the run, as long as I was on the run with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SO SORRY IT HAS TAKEN ME SO LONG TO UPDATE.  
> I had the LITERAL WORST WRITER'S BLOCK because I knew what I wanted to happen in LATER chapters but I didn't want to just have this time frame be "maggie walked around the woods in pain. the end." I wanted there to be character development and development of the group dynamic in the wake of learning what happened, but I had no idea how to do that. Then, on top of it, there was a lot of drama on my dinosaur blog. Like, an uncharacteristic amount. So I couldn't just sit down and force myself to work, either! I'm so sorry! Hopefully it shouldn't be that bad anymore, and I can return to my 2 chapters a day schedule. 
> 
> Thank you for bearing with me through this!!! And thank you for the lovely comments I've gotten in my absence. Please, keep them coming! :D
> 
> (In other news, there's a chance I want to change the rating of this story to, well, higher. Please let me know what you think of that. On FFnet someone essentially threatened me into changing the rating to M, and frankly I like the freedom of it; if a single person DOESN'T want the rating changed, though, I'll just post whatever I write for FFnet as separate stories and let you guys know about it.)


	75. Chapter Seventy - Four: March 3 - March 17, 1996, Scotland

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It's the beauty of confession  
> In the sound when the levees break  
> And all the air is wrong, wrong  
> Redesigning a connection  
> A composition painted on my face  
> With a smile drawn on, on." 
> 
> ~Silversun Pickups, "It's Nice To Know You Work Alone."

Chapter 74: March 3 – March 17, 1996, Scotland

Fred soon figured out that we were fairly close to Inverness; we then continued on towards Inverness in order to go south, towards Cairngorms National Park. There was some worry over getting too close to Braemar, however, since Harry and I knew the area well, it seemed like a smarter decision than turning around and going through another portion of the Highlands. I grew steadily better as we made our progress through the woods, though that was less because I was actively working to heal myself and more because I wasn’t getting actively attacked every five seconds.

When we finally reached Inverness, the strangest feeling of all was to be amongst civilization. There were people moving around everywhere, though mostly moving to get from one point to another, rather than looking at us. They didn’t look at us at all, in fact, or at least, more than anyone would look at eleven dirty and hoodie-wearing teenagers. We all had our hoods up to mask our appearance, though between the raptor that I was trying to hide between all of us and the various forms of weaponry we were carrying, we would be spotted almost instantly by a wizard on the lookout.

“Alright,” Harry hissed, “We’ll take turns. Some of us go back to the forest while the others go and take care of things like showering, using toilet paper at last, and gathering food… Maggie, hate to say this, but you’re the most experienced at that last one…”

“Alright, someone drag Blue into the woods,” I muttered. Neville quickly picked her up and walked back into the treeline, me heading off into the city.

I could hear someone following me; I turned around and hissed at Harry, “We should remain split up. It’s dangerous if we were facing a bad guy but right now we don’t want to draw attention to ourselves. Alright?”

“Alright,” he agreed, and dove off into another street. I quickly wandered around town until I managed to find a transit station – specifically, a bus stop.

 _Perfect,_ I thought grimly. I couldn’t help but feel like I had back in the summer. I swallowed heavily and dove into the bus station, wandering through the crowd of people slowly and carefully. I knew for a fact that I looked like I had been living in the woods, and it was hard to hide that; people seemed to shy away from me when I came close. I frowned and concentrated; getting caught would mean uncertain death, probably. So I dove into a crowd of people just getting off a bus and followed them like I was one of them, eagerly looking at all of their waistlines to try and find a wallet.

 _Bingo_ , I though happily. A group of tourists – probably college students backpacking through the Highlands. We practically were identical in our outward physical features. I eagerly walked behind them, trying to look like I belonged as they walked in front of me.

 _Sorry gents_ , I thought grimly as I managed to snag one of their wallets. I continued to walk with them for a bit before I turned a corner and walked out into the alleyway. I kept moving quickly, not stopping to take a breath, as I made my way back towards the woods.

Everyone was waiting there except for Harry, Luna, and Claire, who had probably already gone ahead to take care of the cleanliness issue. They all looked at me eagerly as I pulled out the wallet and opened it up. There was a grand total of a hundred quid in there. And while that would have been enough to last _me_ for days, for all of us that would probably give us a single solitary day of food.

“Bullocks,” Fred grunted angrily.

“Alright, calm down,” I sighed, stuffing the notes into my pocket, “I’m going to go put the wallet back in the town and hten I’m going to try again.”

“Probably shouldn’t, though. Eventually they’ll notice you hanging around there,” Neville responded nervously.

“I’ll go into a bathroom and clean up. I’ll even change my sweatshirt. Hermione, take my bow,” I offered, handing it to her. She nodded. Blue was whining angrily.

“Look, we only really need fruits and vegetables, right?” I asked, “So that doesn’t reall need much more in the way of money. I’ll be fine attempting again. None of you leave until the others get back.”

They all nodded and I ran back into the city, looking for any sort of place with a public bathroom. I finally found a chain restaurant, where I slid into the bathroom and quickly stripped down to wash myself using the sink. I went as fast as I could, though I could hear someone knocking on the door; I then immediately got dressed and put on a different pair of pants and a different sweatshirt, stuffing the dirty clothing into my bag.

“Ye almost dain in thaur?” an extremely thick Scottish accent asked through the door. I briefly thanked the heavens that mum had been forced to anglicanize her accent slightly when going to Hogwarts.

“Ye!” I answered, hoping that I had mimicked her correctly. I stepped out of the bathroom and apologized to the woman with a smile, before running completely out of the restaurant and down the street. I made my way further thorugh the town, looking for another bus station; eventually I managed to find a relatively crowded grocery, and took my chances. I wandered amongst the people, looking around for easily grabbed wallets. As I wandered through the dairy aisle, I saw a woman set down her purse and leave to look at some eggs at the end of the aisle; there was no one else around, and I really didn’t think I could get away with it. I sighed and moved on, leaving the grocery and continuing to look through all the streets for another crowded place where I might be able to get away with pickpocketing.

Still, Inverness was not exactly a large town, and soon it became clear that the only place I could risk really was the bus stop. I went back to it and used some of the money from before to buy a candy bar, making it look like I belonged; I continued to mill about until I saw another group of people get off of a bus. I dove into the crowd and looked around hurriedly, trying to find a loose wallet or wad of cash. When I finally managed to find one. Not willing to waste any more time, I grabbed it and dove out of the bus station as quickly as I could; I couldn’t really deal with people in the bus station getting suspicious. Though, it was a small town; I didn’t see a single official or police officer in the building. I continued to walk as fast as I could back towards the woods and dove in, quickly looking around and eventually finally finding the others. They were all waiting for me anxiously. Harry, Luna and Claire had returned; Hermione, Ron, and Elena had left. I came up and opened the wallet I had grabbed, finding two hundred quid.

“Oh thank god,” I whispered, “That should be good enough for a while.”

“So what are you going to do with that?” Ginny asked skeptically.

“Me? _I’m_ doing nothing. I can’t risk going back in there again. _You_ are taking this, all this money, and buying fruits and vegetables. Don’t use it all – you don’t want to draw attention to yourself by paying huge amounts of cash when you’re clearly a borke and homeless teenager. Just go from shop to shop, buying small amounts of stuff, be as inconspicuous as possible. Don’t go digging through all the money – keep track of how much you’re buying and get it out before you get to the register. Can you do this?” I asked seriously. If Hermione had been there, I would have asked her, but I had to deal with the hand I was dealt.

“Yeah, I think I can,” Ginny nodded seriously. I handed her the money and gave her a grim, determined look as she ran out into the town. I turned back around and sat down against a tree, sighing heavily.

After a long rest of the afternoon, everyone got to go out into the town and get cleaned up; we spent that evening feasting on a wide variety of fruits and vegetables that Ginny had gathered; we also ate a variety of breads, which was fantastic. It was amazing how good food tasted once you hadn’t been having enough of it for a while. Blue, disappointed with this vegetarian feast, spent the time we were eating hunting down squirrels in the forest. Once she had caught a huge – something, it was a large mammal and I didn’t get to see what it was before Blue went to town on the carcass.

We then walked from Inverness into the national park, heading through the forests and wilderness with a little more spring in our steps at the presence of nutrition in our bodies. I definitely felt better, especially with the change of clothes and use of water on my person; but I was eager to get to London at least at some point to have a real shower.

More days went by; nothing even remotely interesting happened. After all, we were just trying to go through the woods and get to the other side; the national park was huge, and there was no real end to it. Still, it was ultimately the same woods as home, and being inside of it actually made me feel somewhat comforted, though that also made me keep my guard down. Multiple times prey passed near us and I let it slide, too busy just following Harry and hoping that soon we would get to one of the towns that popped up by the river Dee or somewhere else in the forest. Fred still wouldn’t talk to anyone, and the rest of us were still fairly untalkative as well; the situation was too tense and dire for us to waste energy on pointless conversation.

One day I was feeling particularly tired and weary from all the walking. It had been weeks of this on end, with me going from being in pain to being sore to just being exhausted. I need a warm bed to sleep in and a hot shower to cleanse me. I knew everyone else felt the same; I half-hoped we would find my house in the woods just serendipitously to stop in, though I knew that would be stupid. First off, we were in a section of the national park I had never seen before in the entirety of my life; second off, the house was probably concealed by enchantments and other forms of magic to make it unable to be found even by us; third off, there was a decidedly large chance that if we found the house, we would be attacked, and that would be the definition of a disaster.

Blue was running up ahead of us and I groaned, running to catch up with her. Occasionally, when she was bored, she would do this.

“Blue!” I shouted. Blue kept going. I could hear Ginny following me closely.

“Blue!” I shouted again. Neither of us appeared to be able to see her; we continued to go through the forest. Eventually, I saw here, not where I was expecting, but up a tree – how the hell she had climbed up there was probably the biggest mystery of my life to this day, and she was crouching low amongst the brambles of the brach, as silent as a rock, her teeth bared, her eyes flashing.

“Wha –“

“Surprise!” cackled a voice in the woods. Ginny and I both turned around slowly in surprise, looking in amazement as someone crept out of the shadows. Whoever it was, they sounded like a woman – they had a high-pitched, feminine cackle. They were wearing black robes and a hood pulled over their features so that I couldn’t make out who they were.

“I’ve been _looking for you!_ ” they screeched, in a voice that made my blood run cold with fear. I looked at them in terror.

“I think you’ve got the wrong – “

“You are Harry Potter’s _sister_ and _girlfriend_!” they continued to cackle.

_Okay, the fact that they didn’t emphasize that they were looking for me makes me think they’re not from the Ministry –_

“You will lead me back to Potter _now_ , or perish!” she continued.

“Like hell!” Ginny shouted, wipping out her wand. I followed suit, glaring horribly at the hooded figure. Screw the Trace, I wasn’t about to _die_. The person lifted up their head; they were wearing a Death Eater mask.

“Fuck!” I shouted.

“BRING ME TO POTTER!” they screeched.

“NO!” I screamed back. Whoever it was shot a curse at me; I dove out of the way, panting heavily. Ginny shot a stunner back at her, and they began dueling; I jumped in and shot spells at her as well, my heart pounding loudly in my ears as we fought her. She was almost too much for the both of us.

“MAGGIE?” a voice shouted in the distance.

 _Fuck_. It was Harry. The Death Eater shrieked happily and tried to turn away from us, but we refused to stop fighting her; I could feel sweat pouring from my brow and I was getting so exhausted from the effort and my own fear that I didn’t know if it would be possible for me to continue on. Harry and the others arn up and the Death Eater tried to turn to Harry; Harry immediately started fighting.

At that moment, a lot of things happened very fast.

Mutliple cracks of apparition sounded throughout the forest; at least two different groups had arrived – _more_ Death Eaters, and what could have only been Ministry members.

“GET THEM!” one of the Ministry official shouted. I saw Kingsley Shacklebolt amongst them – I prayed to god that he would find a way to help us.

“RUN!” Harry screamed. The Death Eaters were crowding around us, their masks protecting their identities; the Ministry members, however, recognized them – after all, they hadn’t denied the _Azkaban break in_ , at least – and started attacking them too. This distracted both groups; I reached up and grabbed Blue, who seemed to be okay, and sprinted as fast as I could through the forest with the others. We all ran together in the direction we had been headed in previously, kicking up dirt with our feet, the entire forest closing in around us as we sprinted and bobbed between trees. We continued to send curses behind us, as some Ministry members – including Kingsley, thank God – and some Death Eaters – including the probable-woman from before – were still following us.

“KEEP GOING!” Harry urged. He, Neville and Fred turned around to curse some of the people following us – I could see Kingsley secretly take the distraction to stun one of the other Ministry workers – I continued to run, as I couldn’t duel well with a fucking dinosaur in my arms, and tried to get away as fast as possible.

 _I’d be getting out of here faster if I was shifted!_ I thought panickedly, but I knew that wouldn’t actually help the situation; I couldn’t reveal my secret to the others, much less the Ministry or the Death Eaters. So I kept running, tapping into that lovely Halfling potential. Sam was the only person who was keeping up with me; everyone else was a bit of a ways behind.

“What do we do?” Sam asked loudly.

“I don’t know!” I screamed, “Keep running!”

“We need a way to call for help!” he insisted as the trees whipped by us and I started to actually get somewhat exhausted.

“Do you think you can conjure a patronus?” I asked desperately, sliding through some dirt and continuing on, my heart pounding in my ears. Blue, who had been extremely tense at the presence of the Death Eater before, was now so startled by the alarm and panic that I was exuding she had begun to hiss and kick madly, scratching at my sweatshirt and potentially even cutting me, though that was the least of my concerns at the moment.

“Yes!” Sam answered fluidly, not even looking hesitant. He pulled out his wand and wavd it, and a long, shimmery tiger ghosted out of it, so corporeal it looked like –

“ _HAVE YOU ALWAYS BEEN ABLE TO DO THAT?_ ” I screamed.

“Everyone always underestimates me!” he answered in what I could clearly tell was annoyance before turning back to the patronus and shouting at it to find the Order and ask them to help as soon as possible.

We kept running, still going in a straight line; we made sure the others were behind us at all times. I hopefully looked to the sky for the patronus’ response; sometimes they could go faster than usual when situations were dire. Suddenly, more apparition cracks filled the air; I was so surprised I actually stopped in my tracks for a brief second, turning in terror and expecting to face another Ministry member.

It was my Mum.

She grabbed me roughly by the hand and apparated again; I could hear more cracks going off as I was taken away. Blue was screaming the entire time we were apparating and I felt terrible about it – luckily she still seemed to be alive and conscious when we landed.

We were still in a forest, but which one, I didn’t know.

“What –“ I asked in shock.

“We can’t take you to London, that’s where they’ll expect you to be – you should keep moving towards it but only because by the time you actually get there they won’t be looking for you _there_ anymore – we’re near Edinburgh –“

“ _Edinburgh? The **lowlands**_?” I shrieked loudly.

“They won’t be looking for you here! Kingsley’s been putting in plants all day that he has tips the Order will try and collect you and bring you to London! Deal with it!” Mum screamed. I nodded, crouching in shame.

All around us multiple other people appeared, side-along apparating with other members of the Order – looking worse for wear, of course. Sam was panting heavily against a tree. Ginny, Hermione, Claire and Elena all were covered in cuts and bruises. Ron and Luna both looked to be in shock, sitting down immediately upon landing.

Neville was the next to arrive; I cried out in relief and ran to him, setting down Blue and throwing myself into his arms. I could feel tears fallinto my hair and his body shook with sobs; he had also been covered in bruises and cuts.

Next to arrive was Harry; this was equally relieving, and I also ran up to him. He was also covered in inuries but smiled at me weakly. Last to arrive, apparating on his own, was Fred; he seemed to be the most damaged of all, and stumbled to the ground not out of shock, but out of pain.

“Alright!” Mum shouted, looking at everyone. Other Order members present included Dad, Lupin, Sam’s aunt, Gerald Avery (Mum’s friend, not one of the Death Eaters from his family,) his wife Renee, and Moody.

“Listen up!” Moody growled at all of us, “This was a close call – yer all going to have to continue on foot from this point. We’re all in hidin’, and we can’t risk the Ministry findin’ yeh in London right now. Kingsley’s set the rumor that that’s where _we’re_ takin yeh – they won’t keep looking for yeh by the time yeh get there.”

“Fred is going to come with us because he’s old enough to be in the Order and that’s safer for him to be with us than to not be,” Dad stated grimly, “We can’t risk _any_ magic happening _anywhere near_ any of you, not anymore. You’re just going to have to rough it.”

“We’re also bringing back Claire and Elena with us for real. This will help reinforce the idea that we’re taking them to London. We’re chosing them because, obviously, they’re too young to be at risk like this,” Lupin explained kindly.

“We’ve already lost one of yeh ter Azkaban –“

“What?!” we all shouted in unison.

“Yes,” Dad frowned, “George willingly turned himself in to Azkaban. He’s currently there; luckily the Ministry isn’t going to kill him at least. He just gave himself up… we figured he might have tried to be a distraction, but we couldn’t see how that would be effective – do any of you know why…?”

“When did he do this?” Neville asked sharply.

“A few days ago…”

I looked at the others in amazement; they were all staring back at me with similar facial expressions. I took a deep breath and shrugged, looking away from my dad.

“He… uh… he left us about two or so days after we ran away,” Neville muttered softly.

I looked up again and all the adults were looking at us in shock.

“Why?” Mum asked sharply, “You lot should be sticking together – “

“It doesn’t matter why,” Harry stated firmly, “He decided to not travel with us anymore.”

“You kids should be telling us everything, we need to know the whole story if we’re going to try and bail him out of there…” Lupin frowned.

“I’m sure he had a _very good_ reason for wanting to go to Azkaban,” Fred sneered softly. I looked at him in shock, but he was very deliberately not meeting my eye.

“Look, we don’t care what sort of strange fight you all had, this is _war_ , and we need to know the whole picture, _now_ ,” Mum snapped.

“Yeah, well, I needed to know the whole picture my whole damn _life_ , but I haven’t learned anything about that! Why did Voldemort decide to kill me as a baby anyways? I bet you know, and you never decided to tell me! So we’re both going to have to be in the know!” Harry roared. He then stomped off without another word, leaving the rest of us in shock. Mum’s mouth had dropped open and she was staring where he had left wordlessly.

Ginny immediately got up and ran to him; Hermione decided to follow. I got up slowly and gathered my things, heading off into the woods behind Harry. I knew, at the least, that Neville was following me; Blue was clearly tottering along beside me. My throat was dry, and I had a distinct feeling that that wasn’t the last I would hear of this rant from Harry.  

We kept walking through the woods; I heard more people following us and I turned to see that Sam, Ron, and Luna were also coming. I guess we were leaving now. Blue chirped at me angrily; I knew that she needed time to process what had happened; however, Harry did not appear to be in a mood to slow down. So I kept following him, looking out around the woods, hoping that eventually we would stop for a break.

It was silent walking, but this wasn’t exactly new; Harry was not up for talking even in the slightest. I ran to keep up with him and walked directly alongside him, but he refused to make eye contact with m, continuing to stare straight ahead. It was as though an icy chill had fallen over all of us, and it was well enough into March at this point that it wasn’ta ctually all that cold out. I swallowed heavily and squeezed my eyes shut as I came to the realization that I knew I had to have.

“Hey Harry?” I asked quietly.

“Yes?” he responded snappishly, not even looking at me as we continued to walk.

“We should probably stop and rest,” I stated softly, “We went through hell, and it’s already almost dark.”

Harry grumbled angrily but stopped in his tracks, everyone else stopping in shock as well. He threw his stuff down on the ground without ceremony and walked away from the rest of us silently. Ginny followed him, but he shrugged her off angrily; I could see tears forming in her eyes.

“Harry,” Hermione whispered softly.

“What.”

“Can you please talk to us? _Please?_ ”

“No.”

“Why not?” Hermione continued, her voice now pleading. She was approaching him slowly, like a territorial animal, making great care to not get anywhere too close to him.

“Because I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I’m sorry for what Mum said,” I muttered softly.

Harry was silent. In fact, there was a long, tense silence. I could practically see the hairs raise up from goosebumps on Harry’s arms – though again, he couldn’t possibly be cold. He turnd around slowly, glaring at me, his eyebrows furrowed closely together and his face contorting into a sneer. The expression was so startling I basically jumped in shock, stumbling backwards somewhat. Blue, now thoroughly confused, started chirping nervously.

“What did I do?” I asked nervously.

“Do you _really_ want to go there?” he growled.

“Yes, because I have no idea what I did!” I shouted.

“What happened to having my back?”

“Huh?”

Everyone else was deathly honest; you could practically hear a pin drop, and this was a _forest_. There was no end to sounds, usually.

“What happened to having my back?” Harry repeated, his fists clenched, his eyes still narrowed in anger.

“I always have your –“

“If you really did, then just then you would have yelled at Aunt Melinda, too! Look, I understood back when you were recovering, I mean you were essentially screwed up and weren’t yourself. But you’re back to… well, you’re not _normal_ , but I don’t think any of us are anymore, and you’re back to your usual spite and fury at any rate, and I figured you would have agreed with me back there! The Maggie who has my back would always have yelled at her with me and demanded to know why I don’t know anything about any of this shite! You always would have said something like that – fuck, you would have said it _first!_ ”

I was stunned into silence, my feet buried into the ground with shock.

“So why didn’t you, Maggie? Why the fuck didn’t you have my back?” Harry roared.

I couldn’t seem to move my lips; I just stared at him in silent horror.

“Harry – Harry, you should be quiet, someone might hear us –“ Ginny begged.

“Oh shut up!” Harry growled, “So, Maggie? Why the fuck not?”

“I’m on your team,” I insisted softly.

“Yeah, well, I don’t believe you, so you better come up with a good excuse as to why you haven’t been acting like it!” Harry snapped.

I continued to stare at him in silence; I found myself relatively unable to properly respond to him.

“The _only_ reason,” Harry chuckled darkly, “That I can think you wouldn’t have said anything to Aunt Melinda back there is that you _already know the answer to my question._ But that can’t be true, seeing as the _moment_ you found out something like that – something that huge and influential to my life and existence – well, if you were on my team, you would have _had_ to have told me!”

“Mate, there are plenty of reasons why she wouldn’t tell you –“ Neville muttered behind me.

“None of them good! So are you admitting that’s what it is? You told _Neville_ and not _me_?” Harry screeched, “I can’t believe this! What happened to the way we used to be? Why the hell didn’t you tell me anything?”

“I didn’t know all the facts,” I muttered very softly.

“Oh come on –“

“I didn’t,” I insisted, “I didn’t know every detail. I still don’t. I was trying to get my story straight before I told you so I wouldn’t mislead you in anyway. This is such a huge deal – this is so important – I didn’t want to prematurely tell you a bunch of false theories and then have to tell you they were wrong…”

“You know perfectly well I would have understood that and wanted to know anyway!”

“She also wanted to protect you – this isn’t pleasant to hear…” Hermione mumbled.

“YOU KNEW TOO?!” Harry roared.

We all started at him in shock and terrified silence. Harry rounded on the others, who had all clustered together, including Ginny.

“DO YOU LOT KNOW, TOO?” he demanded.

“No idea,” Ginny insisted quietly, still looking shaken and upset.

“No clue,” Ron agreed. Sam and Luna were nodding furiously.

Harry rounded on us.

“YOU TOLD _HERMIONE_ AND NOT _ME?!_ ”

“I told Hermione,” Neville whispered, “Because I wanted to verify that what we – what we theorized – was valid, as in, it was complete conjecture and a little convoluted – we thought that we would go and confirm it with Dumbldore right away, but…”

“BUT WHAT?!”

“Everything just kept happening all at once,” Hermione muttered, “We had so much work – Umbridge was being foul – there were so many things to do with the D.A. – we just never had a time to go to Dumbledore’s office when the toad wouldn’t have spotted us and questiond what we were doing. She was watching our every move, you _knew_ that, we didn’t have a window…”

“THEN YOU SHOULD HAVE REALIZED YOU COULDN’T CONFIRM THE INFORMATION AND TOLD ME ANYWAY!” Harry insisted. He was so loud I could hear birds fairly far away fly off into the sky.

“You keep thinking there will be more time…” I sighed.

“WELL TIME IS UP!”

I looked at the others worriedly; they both were flushed red with shame and looking away from me as well as Harry. I turned back to him, purple-faced and shaking from head to foot, and took a deep breath.

“I… this is a long story.”

“Get on with it!” Harry hissed.

“It’s Snape’s fault I didn’t tell you in the first place,” I began quietly.

“How come?”

“He told me not to tell you. Told me that he shouldn’t have even told _me,_ that it was expressly forbidden, but he didn’t belive in sugar coating things,” I muttered angrily, “He frightened me into being quiet.”

“I don’t believe that – you and him haven’t been getting along and –“

“He told me in second year,” I whispered.

A stunned silence crept over everyone again. Blue was crouched low between my legs, desperately trying to get me to calm down.

“That long? You’ve known for _that long?_ ” Harry roared.

“I only knew one small piece of information. Snape told me, and threatened me into not telling you. I was depressed for a little while –“

“So _that’s_ why,” Ginny muttered in shock.

“ – And then I drove it out of my mind because I didn’t want to think about it anymore. It only came up, really, in tense and relevant situations – when it was the last time I should be telling you this sort of thing – and when there was so much else happening that I forgot about the rememberance afterwards.”

“What did Snape tell you?” Harry hissed.

I swallowed heavily and took another deep breath; I was shaking from head to foot.

“Snape… told me that you’re the only person who can defeat Voldemort,” I mumbled.

More silence. Harry seemed unable to speak. Ginny’s hands had flown up to her mouth and she was crying. I ran a hand through my wild, unkempt hair (my _god_ I missed hairties) and decided to try and continue.

“I didn’t have any context for that until this year, when Dad sat us down to talk to us about the first War, and your parents, and everything. How it all came together. He – he said…” I took another long pause, “He said that your parents went into hiding.”

“Yeah, so?” Harry muttered. He looked stunned, still, and much calmer as a result. I took that as a way to keep going.

“Well I wondered… if they went into hiding because you were destined to defeat Voldemort. So I asked Dad that. And he… he explained that there was a prophecy, which describd what the person who would defeat Voldemort would be like… and this description could, at the time, apply to two people,” I took a deep breath, “You and Neville.”

More shock radiated from Ginny, Ron, Luna, and Sam. Harry was now glaring slightly.

“But there was another… another part of the prophecy. Said that whoever the person was, Voldemort would pick them – as in, Voldemort’s choice had a major part to do with the prophecy… so the person is you. This is all I really know for sure…” I took a deep breath, “I mean, all I knew then.”

“So I guess you wondered about all this,” Harry responded dully.

“Well I mean… if Voldemort’s choice was so important, why would he have picked you by trying to kill you so early on in your life? I mean, if Voldemort was being smart, he would have… I dunno, he would have waited till you and Neville were born a little later, and seen which of you was the bigger threat, right? So it occurred to Neville and me, when we were discussing all this… that maybe he _didn’t_ know. That maybe Voldemort didn’t know the whole prophecy – he was missing information, and was just going after you to kill you to get it done with and out of the way, which obviously backfired on him…”

Harry’s eyes narrowed further.

 “And so then – well, Voldemort made a huge mistake, right? Just cause he didn’t have all the info. So what would he want more than anything else now? All the information. That’s the most important thing to him right now, to understand fully how you two relate to each other and what exactly the prophecy said – and I mean, if Voldmort didn’t know the part of the prophecy that said his choice was important in this, then he probably didn’t know _other_ parts as well… and maybe we don’t, either… like if it says, for example, _how_ you can defeat him…”

Harry began pacing angrily, deliberately not looking at me.

“And so… well I mean we figured that this sort of information is really valuable to Voldemort… like a weapon… and so that’s what the Order is guarding…” I sighed.

“So then I told them that the prophecies are held in the Department of Mysteries, in the Ministry,” Hermione mumbled.

“Which made sense – why they’d need to guard it – they can’t actually get it and store it somewhere safter. So… that,” I muttered.

“Anything else?” Harry spat.

“Well, we wonderd why it was _you_ who would be able to defeat Voldemort, and what special aspect of your personality would allow you to defeat him – or if it was something that he would specifically give you by picking you out as his enemy. And then we thought, well, maybe your scar abilities? Since it lets you see into his head and everything?” Neville rambled.

“And we also wondered about the scar, like… how does a part of Voldemort latch on to you? What part of him did? Usually when curses backfire they have the same effect as the actual curse – Voldemort should have just _died_ , so why didn’t he?” I sighed.

“And Hermione found out that the only reason you were safe growing up was because you lived in the house of someone related to your Mum… because of the blood protection she gave you when she died… so whenever you’re there, you’re safe from Voldemort and his cronies…” Neville mumbled.

We both stopped talking; we were out. Harry glared at us furiously.

“Why didn’t you TELL ME ANY OF THIS?” he roared.

“Because –“

“THIS IS RIDICULOUS, MAGGIE! YOU SHOULD HAVE TOLD ME IMMEDIATELY UPON FINDING OUT – MAYBE NOT SECOND YEAR, I DUNNO, BUT CERTAINLY THIS YEAR! THIS IS INSANE! WHY THE FUCK WOULDN’T YOU TELL ME THIS?” he continued.

“I just –“

“I NEEDED TO KNOW THIS! I NEEDED TO UNDERSTAND WHAT WAS GOING ON! I NEED TO KNOW WHY VOLDEMORT IS TARGETING ME IN ORDER TO DEAL WITH IT AND PREPARE FOR IT! YOU KNOW THIS!”

“Harry –“

“WHY ARE YOU EVEN FIGHTING IN THIS WAR?” Harry demanded.

“What are you talking about?” I whispered.

“Why. Are. You. Even. Fighting. In. This. War?”

“Because –“

“It’s not for the right reasons! Ever since we were kids, all you’ve cared about is me and the others being safe – you care about us being alive a _lot_ more than you care about Voldemort and everything being defeated. You wouldn’t mind all those evil guys still being around and the Ministry still sucking if we were alive and well –“

“That’s not true!”

“YOUR PRIORITIES ARE SCREWED UP! YOU CARED MORE ABOUT MY SHORT TERM HAPPINESS NOT KNOWING THIS THAN YOU CARED ABOUT ME ACTUALLY HAVING THE INFO I NEED TO DO WHAT I NEED TO DO!” Harry screamed.

I felt tears coming to my eyes and I didn’t know what to say.

“IT’S NOT ABOUT _ME,_ MAGGIE, IT’S ABOUT THIS WORLD, AND YOU CLEARLY HAVEN’T FIGURED THAT OUT YET, THAT SOMETIMES SACRIFICES HAVE TO BE MADE – THAT I WILL HAVE TO MAKE THEM – WE ALL WILL – AND SOME OF US WILL IN FACT DIE!”

I began wringing my wrists anxiously.

“I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU! OR YOU TWO! I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU WOULDN’T TELL ME THIS! I NEEDED ALL OF THE INFORMATION! YOU HAD NO RIGHT –“

“Harry, we just –“

“SAVE IT!” Harry screamed at Hermione, “SAVE IT. I DON’T WANT TO LOOK AT ANY OF YOU. YOU ALL HAVE BETRAYED ME.”

Tears spilled out of my eyes and I ignored them, trying to compose myself enough to speak.

“You don’t really care about me at all, Maggie,” Harry finally hissed coldly, “You only care about yourself, and this picture of the future you’ve composed in your head coming true. If you cared about me, you would want me to know this, so I’d have a better chance of being ready.”

It was like a slap across the face.

“Oi –“

“Shut it, Neville, you’re just as bad. I can’t believe you went along with this. You should know better. You three should _all_ have known better,” Harry growled.

“We thought –“ Hermione whispered, also crying.

“Oh shut up. I don’t want to hear it.”

I started walking away, through the woods, away from Harry. I didn’t want to be around him anymore. I could hear people following me, but I didn’t pay attention; I kept walking for as long as I could through the forest and away from Harry. I walked for a few hours, trying to stop crying, trying to ignore how terrible I felt, as I wandered out into a clearing and sat down. Neville, Hermione, and surprisingly Sam all sat next to me wordlessly; Blue sat at my feet. I still refused to talk.

The core of his message was right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I'm the worst. Friday night my friends decided to have a skype video chat; Saturday I skyped my boyfriend; Sunday my new nephew came over and I ranted about how BIRDS ARE DINOSAURS OH MY GOD on my blog; Monday I just got distracted. I'm really sorry :(


	76. Chapter Seventy - Five: March 17 - April 18, 1996, Scotland and England

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "My honey - drizzled dreams  
> Sweeten lonely in-betweens  
> Each passing day and year  
> Taunts me cause you're not here  
> Wounds won't close  
> Cause I know  
> Somehow I  
> Let you go." 
> 
> ~ Scala & Kolacny Brothers, "Raintears".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: Depressive and Suicidal Thoughts; Descriptions of Self Harm; no actual warning for it happens specifically in the chapter because it really is throughout; read at your own risk

Chapter 75: March 17 – April 18, 1996, Scotland and England

After a long time of sitting silently in a corner and staring at my torn up shoes, I finally couldn’t wait any longer. I looked up and at Sam, pursing my lips together.

“Why’d you follow us?” I asked softly.

Sam looked up himself, his dirty matted hair all over his face. He brushed it aside, looked at me critically, and shrugged.

“Because Harry was being an ass,” he eventually stated calmly.

“Well, he had a right to,” Hermione mumbled. She clearly had been crying.

“Maybe he had a right to be an ass, but some of the things he said were out of line, no matter how much he was in the right. And besides, I’m not convinced he was in the right. Yeah, sure, he should have known about all that shit, but at the same time, you weren’t keeping it from him for bad intentions or anything, and frankly, so much stuff _has_ been happening to us all lately, I dunno when you would have managed to slip it in. So I didn’t really want to have to talk to Harry about it,” Sam shrugged, “Also, I didn’t want Hermione to have to be your permanent third wheel for however long we’re on the run.”

Hermione giggled and hiccupped through her sniffles. Neville couldn’t help chuckling himself.

I didn’t really feel like laughing.

The others seemed to sense my mood; I turned away from them and sat up against the tree, hugging my knees to myself. Blue walked up to me and kept a respectful distance, sitting at my feet and looking up at me. I wrapped my arms around my knees and buried my face in them. I didn’t even cry, I just sort of sat there like that until I eventually fell asleep.

I still got nightmares on the run, but waking up next to Neville usually calmed me down instantaneously. Something about my position had kept him and everyone else away from me, though; so when I woke up, I was screaming at the top of my lungs.

“What the hell –“

“Maggie? What’s wrong?”

“Fuck –“

Hermione and Sam were babbling with grogginess as I came to my senses and stopped, breathing heavily and flushing with embarrassment. Neville didn’t say a word, but got up and crawled up to me, looking at me hesitantly in the moonlight. I nodded at him, tears filling my eyes, and he wrapped his arms tightly around m, pulling me into his arms to fall asleep again. I breathed happily and nestled against him, even though I didn’t really feel like I deserved it.

The next day we all got up and went back to walking, but I didn’t hold Neville’s hand. I didn’t really want to talk to anyone at all or have any contact with anyone at all. We kept walking through the forest like we did back before the world broke, without words and without much contact. At one point, I went out and hunted for food, Hermione and Neville gathered, and Sam just kind of stayed in one place so we would find each other again, and then we’d eat and go to sleep. I didn’t sleep alone again, because I didn’t want to pain anyone further by waking them up. Still, I didn’t feel right anymore.

Eventually, we found our way to Edinburgh. I had only been to the city once in my entire life. It felt like a medieval town, filled with cobbled streets and ancient building, with a large castle overlooking everything on a hill.

“Do you think we could stay here for a while?” Hermione asked quietly.

“It is pretty crowded,” Sam commented, “I don’t think they’ll necessarily notice us.”

“There is the problem that we have a dinosaur, though,” I muttered dully.

We were all surrounding Blue to keep her hidden from view, but it was fairly unclear how long we could keep that up.

“Well what was your plan for when we got to London?” Sam chuckled.

“London’s a weird place. No one would have paid attention to her,” I grunted. Talking took a lot of effort for me.

“Well, you go wait back in the woods. I’ll go and try and steal some money – I think I know how to do it, and I’m Asian, no one will expect me,” Sam joked, but I didn’t laugh, so he awkwardly continued, “Hermione, you go and find a hostel and find out how much it’ll cost. Hostels get all kinds, they won’t question us, but try to find one that’ll give us a private room for four people if you can. Neville, stay with Maggie.”

Everyone nodded and I went wordlessly back into the forest. I sat up against a tree, and Blue was officially done giving me my space. She rested her head in my lap, looking at me by shifting her head – like the bird she once was, she couldn’t actually move her eyes, she had to tilt her head to where she wanted to look. I absent-mindedly patted her head, but I wasn’t really energetic enough to do much more.

“Do you want to talk to me, Mags?” Neville asked softly.

I shrugged and shook my head. I mean I was telling the truth. I didn’t really want to talk to anyone at all. I just… I didn’t know what I wanted.

“What would happen if I told you that you had no choice, and had to talk to me?” Neville furthered after it was clear I really wasn’t going to talk.

I shrugged again, still patting Blue’s head and gently stroking her feathers, trying to enter into a soothing pattern, but it didn’t really do much for me. I didn’t really know what I wanted to do.

“Look, Mags, you’re scaring me now, okay?” Neville continued. I looked up at him and I didn’t really know what to say, or what expression to give him, or what to do at all.

“Please,” Neville whispered hoarsely. I could see the beginnings of tears in his eyes. I didn’t like it when he was sad. In fact, it would be safe to say it was my least favorite feeling in the wood. Still, I didn’t think that I deserved him. And he deserved… so much more than me.

He reached down and grabbed my hands, pulling me up off of the ground. I stumbled to my feet weakly; I still didn’t like walking much. I didn’t like doing anything much anymore. He looked at me earnestly and I kept looking away, even though he acted a lot like Blue in constantly moving his head in order to try and get our eyes to meet. Eventually I had to acknowledge him, and I leaned up and kissed him softly.

“I love you,” I murmured softly, not because I didn’t think I loved him, but because I was doubting that I was capable of knowing what love actually was. Neville’s eyes seemed to reflect an understanding of that, and he pulled my hands into his and held them tightly.

“You _do_ love me,” he agreed, “And you’ve shown me that since we were kids.”

I looked at him again and nodded, the words somehow comforting even though I didn’t quite believe them. I threw my arms around him and held him tightly, hoping that maybe feeling his heart beating against mine would bring me back from the mountain ledge.

Hermione and Sam came back eventually, and Hermione had managed to find a cheap, dinky little hostel that had one small group room left for five people.

“And honestly, they probably won’t ask questions that Blue isn’t a person, we’ll just give the fifth bed to her and go inside right before the hostel locks up for the night,” she sighed heavily.

“And I have enough money for us to do it,” Sam paused, “But let’s eat out here, first. I got us all some fruits and vegetables and cheesy for once because I’m really seriously starting to consider vegetarianism.”

I should have laughed at that. I waited too long to do so, and everyone looked at me worriedly; I Just grabbed a piece of cheese and ate it slowly, desperately trying to not meet anyone’s eyes.

The hostel was indeed sketchy, tiny, and run down; plenty of creepy characters were moving about the place quietly and loudly at the same time, with drunken revelers serving as the general rule for behavior rather than the exception. I took one look inside of the bathrooms and nearly vomited; somehow, peeing in the woods seemed _cleaner_. Still, I wasn’t going to say no to a shower, no matter how gross; we spent the money on sandals at a store and took turns wearing them. I spent much too long in the shower, distracted by my own self, and the lack of feeling in the pit of my chest cavity that just seemed to keep growing by the second.

We didn’t stay in the eerie and yet familiar Edinburgh for long; we had to keep moving, and the hostel was expensive. We went off to the other side of the city and started walking through another patchy forest, headed south towards London, though I didn’t really know why we were aiming for any particular place at all as we moved through the grove and trees.

Every day, I wanted to talk less; every day, the empty feeling in my chest and stomach grew. Every day, Neville’s worried look grew worse; every day, I found my inability to reassure him even greater than before.

 _You hurt Harry because you don’t know how to care for other people_.

Blue kept trying to get my attention by rubbing up against my legs, and I would still pet her, though my heart wasn’t in it. She also would come with me hunting, and though I pretty much exclusively caught small things these days, she still would happily help to take down whatever it was, as though contributing would make me act like myself again.

“Mags,” Neville whispered after two weeks of this.

“I’m fine,” I insisted quietly, for the millionth time in my life at this point.

“No you’re not,” Sam muttered angrily in a corner.

“Yes, I am, now shut up,” I hissed. Sam looked at me worriedly; I must have sounded to much like Harry. He turned away, but I couldn’t really deal with that. I couldn’t really deal with myself.

Neville pulled me aside and started kissing my face earnestly; I let him, not because I felt I particularly deserved the kisses, but because I knew it made him feel better.

“I love you,” Neville murmured softly.

 _You shouldn’t,_ I thought shrewdly.

“I love you,” I responded, as I should, even though I didn’t believe myself anymore. I didn’t believe I loved anyone at all. I was a destructive, selfish person, just like Harry had said.

“You do love me,” Neville reminded, looking at me desperately.

I didn’t say anything; I just curled up and went to sleep.

Staying awake was exhausting.

“I’m going to _kill Harry_ ,” I heard none other than Hermione insist one morning, about a week after that, as I took much too long to wake up again. I didn’t want to walk south anymore. I could tell we were in England now, but that didn’t matter much; I just didn’t want to keep moving. What was the point of any of this? Umbridge should just find me and turn me in. Then I could sleep _all_ the time.

“Shush, she should be waking up soon, we don’t want her to hear that,” Sam muttered.

“Well I am! That bastard. I can’t believe I – ugh! He was so _heartless_ and _cruel_ and _illogical_ and everything he said was such _bullshit –_ “

“Hermione, please, we know, we agree, but that’s not going to help right now,” Neville muttered.

“Might, if we somehow _found him_ and dragged his _scrawny, pathetic arse_ here to apologize –“

“He won’t apologize, he still will blame her,” Sam muttered, “Or at least, probably. At any rate, look, Maggie right now needs us to convince her that he was wrong –“

_He was right._

“Maybe we should _shut up_ ,” Neville hissed. I kept my eyes closed stubbornly for a few more minutes. I just wanted to be asleep, after all. When I was asleep, I didn’t remember anything, so I couldn’t remember feeling empty inside. Now the emptiness had spread from my stomach and chest to everywhere, except my brain, where intrusive thoughts floated around like snowflakes falling on an early winter day.

I woke up, though, knowing I had to eventually, and we all got up and started walking through the forest again, moving our way through the English countryside, no sound passing between any of us but the sound of our feet against the leaf litter, and the occasional sound of Blue whimpering for attention.

“You’re really good at taking care of Blue,” I commented after a while, towards Neville, who was scratching her behind the ears as we walked.

“Well, I care about her,” he agreed softly, looking at me with something akin to fear.

“I’m glad,” I responded. _She’s in good hands_. And I was silent for the rest of the walk, and again, for another week, not saying anything at all. I didn’t really know what to say. I couldn’t offer advice on where to go, where to head towards, and what towns to look for. I didn’t really know anything about where we were and what the best course of action was. All I knew was this emptiness and this deep, perpetuating feeling of utter self-loathing.

Every day was a struggle, and one day, when I was feeling particularly terrible, we settled down in a portion of the forest to make camp, Neville still desperately trying to get me to talk to him, and me still stubbornly refusing to look at him. I couldn’t make him more attached to me. I already was giving him too much pain as it was. _I simply wasn’t worth it_.

“I’m hungry,” Sam muttered after a long silence. It perked me out of my reverie, forcing me to understand again how I occasionally was, somehow, useful; and in that moment, I really did have to go and help the people I was pretty sure I cared about. I dunno. What did it mean to care about someone? Perhaps I cared about no one at all, not really. Perhaps I didn’t actually understand what it meant to care about someone. Maybe I was just broken.

“Maybe we should look for food?” Hermione asked quietly.

“I’ll go catch some,” I muttered softly, rubbing my legs nervously – it was finally warm enough for me to wear shorts, and I admit I enjoyed the fact that I was doing so, though it was still a hollow sort of enjoyment. All three of them looked at me skeptically. I hadn’t really shown much initiative lately, after all. They all basically had to tell me to do anything at all.

“I will,” I insisted, _what was the point of them wasting energy on me if I didn’t really give them anything at all._ Food I could do. I could give them food.

They all shrugged, Neville looking at me worriedly, as I got up and started walking away from the group. Blue followed me, but I knew she would; I didn’t really know how to get her to stop doing that. I wanted her to go off with Neville. Neville would actually be able to care for her, and give her scritchles. I could only really pat her and hope to god she would be satisfied with it. Still, she followed me, as I headed off into the woods.

That empty feeling in the pit of my stomach was back again. I tried to ignore it as I started tracking a trail in the woods; it was clear that there had been a deer here. I kept following it, going through the woods and the slightest, almost imperceptible pathway of destruction the deer had left. Eventually, once I had found the deer, I crouched low in the bushes, readying my arrow. The deer was feeding on grass, and did not appear to have heard me or Blue; Blue was also crouched low, ready to pounce. I tightened the string, and aimed my arrow, hoping to hit it in the right spot, squinting my eye tightly.

The deer looked up, and I let the arrow go. But it was slightly off course; it only grazed the top of the deer. Blue wasted no time, though I was shocked into stillness; she leapt onto the deer and surgically struck at its neck, killing the deer nearly instantly.

_What just happened?_

Somehow, I hadn’t been able to do it. I hadn’t killed the deer. Had my aim been off? Was I not paying attention? Was my heart not in it… what?

 _I can’t even catch food._ Blue, proud of her handiwork, was standing over the deer, looking at me expectantly. But I couldn’t give her praise, or say good job, or drag the deer back towards the others. I had fallen onto the ground in shock and horror, running my hands desperately through my hair.

_Oh my god._

_I am absolutely worthless._

I started pulling desperately at my hair, as I didn’t really want to _be_ anymore. Maybe if I pulled hard enough at my hair I wouldn’t be. I started crying, the first time I had done so since the world broke, my entire body shaking madly as the tears left my eyes. I couldn’t control any of the movements of my body, everything literally seemed to be cracking at the seams as I tore at myself. It was clear that my hair wasn’t going to just all come out and take my scalp with it, so I started clawing at my legs, my nails scraping against the skin and drawing blood. My tears were silent, just falling in droves out of my eyes and onto the forest floor. Blue had run up to me and was chirping loudly and angrily, trying to get my attention, but I only barely registered her.

_I am worth nothing to no one._

I let out a loud wail and threw myself back against the tree, still shaking with sobs, now clutching at myself with horror and desperation. I didn’t really know what it was to be a person anymore. What did it mean to still be feeling like this? I had never truly helped or assisted anyone in the entirety of my existence. All I had done was bring misery and continued pain. After all, I had only ever really hurt Harry. I hadn’t cared about him – if I had cared about him – for him. I cared about having my brother in my life when I was an adult… it was pure selfishness. He was right.

_I am useless._

I fell to the ground and continued to cry, now whimpering as I did so, my entire body curling up into the fetal position. I wrapped my arm around my head and groaned, grabbing at the ground with my other hand, pulling up clumps of dirt and leaf litter, trying desperately to latch onto something that felt at least somewhat real. The forest felt real, after all. Being in the woods still somehow felt real, though it was nerve-wracking and terrifying.

 _Everyone would be better off without me_.

They certainly wouldn’t be worse off. Blue could apparently hunt and kill for them all without the help of me. And what did I even give the others? Love? I apparently didn’t actually know how to love. That’s what Harry had taught me, at any rate. I didn’t know how to love, and I never would know how to love. I would just continue to selfishly keep people alive because I insisted on them being so; I didn’t want them to be alive for their sakes, only for my own happiness. And what good had I done in the world to deserve even that? I deserved nothing.

_All I’ve ever done is hurt others._

I had spent my entire life not realizing how I felt about Neville, and continuing to keep him upset and alone. I had spent most of my existence completely ignoring what would actually help Harry and make his life better, and instead just mollycoddling him so I could ignore the inevitable eventually. I tried to keep out of the Harry Ginny Hermione triangle, but I knew what would actually make all of them happy, and I never really told them what I thought. I dragged Sam into my mess of a life and made him miserable. I refused to leave Elena alone even though that probably would have kept her and Claire safe. I insisted on dating George and tore his and Fred’s relationship apart. And… well, through all of that I indirectly lead to Luna and Ron being dragged into this mess, too, and that could only really be called my fault.

_Nobody should have me around. I’m just harmful to everyone._

I was. I only hurt others. I never helped. I never brought real goodness. Any real goodness anyone imagined coming from me was imaginary. Neville had managed to delude himself into thinking I was good for him. So had all the others. They were all completely mad; only Harry and I had realized the truth, and Harry had done what he needed to do – what everyone _had_ to do – get rid of me. I had stopped crying now, and everything just felt hollow and empty – I didn’t even know what emotion I was feeling. Perhaps I wasn’t actually feeling an emotion. That seemed not only likely, but true. I was just nothingness, because I was worthless and damaging and destructive and literally, the worst. I was the worst person on the planet, because I did thing and thought that I was helping everyone around me, and all I was doing was hurting them.

 _I should just leave_.

I sat up and stared at Blue; Blue was still chirping, alarmed at my distress.

“Go!” I shouted at her, my voice shaking, but still somehow able to do so. Blue stopped chirping, but was staring at me anxiously, her head tilted to the side.

“ _GO!”_ I now screamed, pointing angrily at where the others were. Blue backed up slightly, but still tilted her head at me, refusing to move even slightly.

I threw a clod of leaves at her, and now she finally ran away, her short legs pumping quickly as she moved through the underbrush. I sobbed heavily as I watched her long tail disappear, and pressed my forehead against my knees again.

_I should just die._

There was that thought again. It wasn’t a thought I was unfamiliar with. In fact, I had had this thought more times than I was truly comfortable with, but it was always just an aside, something that was painful and clearly untrue, my brain playing tricks on me.

But now it actually felt true. Now it actually felt _right_. After all, I was worthless, right? An empty shell, incapable of feeling true human emotion, incapable of actually caring for other people, only caring about herself. And now I didn’t even care about myself. I was absolutely, utterly worthless.

I was shaking again, but in a different way, now. I reached backwards into my quiver, anxiously digging through it, trying to grab one of the arrows. I managed to, and, my hands still quivering, grabbed the arrowhead and ripped it of the shaft. I looked at it critically; it still appeared to be _somewhat_ sharp. I put it up against my wrist for a minute and then drew it back; how would I even do this? How was this even done? It wasn’t like there was a textbook for this.

I sniffled softly, but I knew this would be better for everyone. I stuck the arrow up against my wrist, and closing my eyes tightly, I slashed against it horizontally across the wrist – was that how you did it? I really had no idea. I opened my eyes slightly; there was some blood coming out of the wound, but not much.

_Wow, I am the **definition** of useless. I can’t even kill myself correctly. _

I did it again, in another spot, and then again, and then again, and then again. I just kept doing it up against my wrist and down my arm until I felt like there was enough blood pouring from my arm; in fact, there was so much blood I was overwhelmed. The smell of it filled my nostrils and between that and the shock over the whole proceedings, I very quickly blacked out, the last thing I perceived being my head hitting the forest floor.

Waking up was not something I thought was going to happen to me again, but somehow I perceived the sound of someone sobbing heavily. Was someone crying? Why would someone be crying over _me?_ Had I died, and now was I doomed to live life as a ghost? I mean obviously someone would be crying if I died, these idiots still thought they cared about me. But they’d learn. With time they’d realize Harry was right, and be glad I was gone.

“Oh thank god –“

That was decidedly Sam’s voice. Why was he glad – oh, he had already realized that Harry was right. He always had been smart. I was impressed.

“The dittany is working, thank _Merlin –_ “

_Dittany?_

Dittany healed cuts and wounds – its what had healed me when I had escaped Umbridge – was I actually alive? Was I not a ghost?

I groggily blinked my eyes open. Sure enough, I appeared to be in my own body. I looked around and saw Hermione kneeling over my arm, applying plants to it; Sam was pacing in the background, his hands running furiously through his hair as he did so. Neville was on my other side, sobbing horrifically, tears streaming down his eyes and his face all red and blotchy. Blue was chirping madly again, her feathers ruffled, her wings flapping with anguish.

“Oh thank god!”

They had seen my eyes open – I wish I had closed them before they hand. Neville let out another, wild sob; I was shocked by the pain behind the sound. Before anyone said or did anything else, he had wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me up against him, holding me to his body so tightly I could barely breathe or think.

“No no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no no –“

“Neville, shut up,” Hermione muttered angrily.

He stopped mumbling, but he was shaking as he held me tightly, refusing to let go of me.

“I still need to work on her wounds, come on, Nev –“

“I am never letting go of her again!” he roared, “I am never letting her out of my sight again! Never! It’s not happening!”

Blue chirped loudly and angrily.

Neville pulled back from me, looking at me desperately. I didn’t say anything; I just averted my eyes again.

“ _Why?_ ” he sobbed, looking at me in horror, “ _Why?_ ”

This was worse than being alive and useless or dying. Because not only had I given these people the pain of someone they thought was important in their lives dying, but now I couldn’t even have the benefit of not dealing with it.

This was so much worse.

Neville looked at me again, his expression clearly begging me to answer him.

“Usually people leave a note. Can we hear your note?” Sam muttered in a corner. He was having the correct reaction – he should go join Harry, far away from me –

“Please, Maggie, _why_ ,” Hermione whispered.

I couldn’t get the words out. I stared at my knees again.

“Talk to me!” Neville begged, looking at me desperately. His entire expression read hopelessness and fear. I hated seeing that on his face. I hated to see him this upset because of me. I didn’t deserve this amount of pain being shed on my account. He should be joyful that I had nearly died.

“I am worthless and I only bring pain to other people’s lives and no one should have to have the burden of being around me anymore,” I muttered very fast.

“Are you crazy?” Sam roared. Neville was crying harder again.

“Maggie, come one, you have enriched all of our lives – “ Hermione whispered.

“No I haven’t.”

“Before you, I was a loser with no friends and who would have spent the war in a closet refusing to help. Before you, Hermione was a know it all who didn’t stick up for herself or what she believed in and just tried to stay out of the way. Before you, Neville was a wimp who was scared of everyone and everything and thought he was worthless. Before you, we all were – we all were nobodies. Before you, we were all people who didn’t believe in themselves or the world around them to be a good place. At least for the three of us, you have made the world a good place – by being yourself, by forcing yourself into our lives, you _forced_ us to believe in ourselves, and you have made us better people for it!” Sam shouted.

Neville was still sobbing, his whole body shaking with pain and horror. Blue was chirping horrifically.

“Without you, Blue wouldn’t even fucking exist!” Sam finished. I shook my head madly, pressing my forehead against my knees.

“Well I’ll just keep reminding you of this because this is insane. Of course you are _full_ of worth and you have brought wonderful things to all of our lives and without you we would all be aimless and honestly right now I’m pretty convinced that if you succeeded in killing yourself Neville would do the same thing so that he would be with you,” Sam muttered, “So I’ll just keep fucking telling you that till it gets through your thick fucking skull. And then I’ll kill Harry because this is all his stupid fault and he was a dick and now you’re _completely_ fucked up.”

I looked at Neville for confirmation; he nodded his head vigorously.

_Well I’m never trying that again, then._

It was one thing for me to die. It was quite another thing for him to kill himself, too. Neville was a wonderful person, who the world not only deserved, but needed; if he took himself out of the world for some delusion of me, then it would be I who had damaged the world, not him.

Neville roughly grabbed my face in his hands and kissed me; I didn’t react much to it. Hermione and Sam walked away quietly, Blue following them. Neville pulled back and stared at me desperately.

“I love you,” he whispered, “How could you forget that?”

“You love some weird, idealized version of me –“

“I love _you._ I have known who you are – _exactly who you are_ – since we were eleven. You are passionate, but headstrong – fuck that, you’re a steamroller, and you will do anything to have what you think is right happen. You are amazingly intelligent, but that makes you pompous and stubborn, because you automatically assume that every opinion and decision you make is right. You are funny, but self – destructive, you are beautiful, but uncaring about your physical appearance. You are cold and cut off when you are hurt, but warm and accepting and one of the most loving people in the world when you are healthy. You will defend and protect and help the people you care about to the point of hurting yourself, but sometimes you do so without real logic or forethought, and don’t actually help anyone at all. You are violent, but fierce, and wise, yet naïve, all at the same time. I love _you_ , every single fucking facet of you, even the bad ones – and I don’t want you to disappear from my life, ever, at all,” Neville insisted, his eyes showing truthfulness and passion.

I started sobbing again.

“I love you, and I’m going to spend the rest of our lives proving to you that you’re worthy of that, if I have to.”

I continued to cry horrifically, holding my face in my hands, the dittany all but having cleared up my cuts.

Neville pulled my head up from my hands and pulled me into another kiss; this one I couldn’t help but return. We continued to kiss each other fiercely and passionately, and he pulled me up against his body and into his lap, curling up around each other tightly. At least when we did this I could still feel something; it was a ghost of something, but it was there.

_You love him._

Maybe that was true. Maybe I was capable of feeling that, at least for him, even if I was really crappy at showing it.

The thought had made me stop kissing him; he pulled back and looked at me earnestly.

“What, sweetie?” he asked softly.

“I don’t think I actually know how to love someone,” I muttered quietly.

“That’s ridiculous,” Neville answered immediately. I frowned at him and looked down, shaking my head.

“Harry said –“

“Harry was _wrong_ ,” Neville snapped angrily. I looked up at him again, tears forming in my eyes.

“You love everyone, that’s the whole point,” Neville smiled slightly, “You love each of us so much that you would do anything to keep us safe, even at the expense of your principles. I mean come on, Mags, who gets angry about all the shit that’s happening in the world, the most? It isn’t Harry, or Hermione, or me. It’s you.”

I sniffled slightly, but he had a point.

“You _do_ care about this war and you _do_ care about defeating Voldemort. You just care about _us_ , as _people,_ more, which is perfectly fine. Your mirror of Erised vision – it wasn’t that you were with us – what you talked about was that all of us were _happy_ ,” Neville reminded, “You weren’t paying attention to the fact that you were with us hardly at all.”

I nodded, “I… guess I just want to be there to s-see it…”

“Exactly, which isn’t selfish, it’s normal,” Neville paused, “Look, you’re not perfect. But you aren’t a _monster_. You are perfectly capable not only of love, but of compassion, empathy, and sympathy. You also are exceptionally intelligent and ridiculously brave. You didn’t tell Harry something you should have, which is an honest mistake that Hermione and I made equally as much.”

“I…” I sniffled, “I didn’t realize you were in love with me for five years…”

“Ha!” Neville laughed loudly, “You’re just a little stupid when it comes to how other people feel sometimes. Not a big deal. Honestly if you were _perceptive_ about _everything_ it would be freakishly weird.”

I managed to laugh; the first time in ages. The sound made Neville kiss me again, his lips pressed furiously to mine, and I kissed him back, holding tightly to him and slightly pushing him down to the ground. I was on top of him now, and I still sort of felt empty, and maybe if I kept kissing him – kept… - kept _something_ – I wouldn’t feel like that anymore.

Neville broke away from me, panting heavily, and looking at me sadly.

“You’re just doing this because you’re depressed,” he murmured calmly.

“So?” I responded, my voice breaking.

“So, we’re not ready yet, and you know that,” he continued, his expression kind as he pulled himself up off the ground and held me close to him again, “You are reacting to an emotionally charged situation with further emotionally charged actions, and you need to climb back down from the cliff we barely pulled you off of, okay?”

“Okay,” I agreed softly, but tears were coming out of my eyes faster than I would like to admit. They were spilling over, and my body was shaking again, and before when I wasn’t feeling anything, now it seemed like the opposite. Now it felt like I was feeling too much.

“Mags, I love you,” Neville insisted quietly. The sobs burst forward and out of me, now, and I started crying heavily, balling up his shirt in my hands and pressing my face to his chest.

“I love you,” he kept whispering, over and over again, as I continued to cry, until finally I am pretty sure that I fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOLY. CRAP. I AM SORRY. THIS IS SO DEPRESSING.  
> But honestly, when I thought to myself how Maggie would react to how Harry treated her... there really wasn't another option.  
> This chapter didn't come immediately not because of business or writer's block... but because it was very hard for me to write. Both because it's depressing, yes, but also because it draws a lot on my own experiences, which aren't exactly easy to describe without freaking out.  
> Luckily, this was the bottom of the pit; everything is only going to go up (in terms of Maggie's mental state; NOT THE WAR, THE WAR ONLY GETS WORSE) from here.  
> So sorry for the depressing story!! PLEASE COMMENT I NEED THEM THANK YOU  
> Also, I am pretty sure I'm increasing the rating; now the only question is whether it'll be E or M.


	77. Chapter Seventy - Six: April 19 - May 10, 1996, England

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "What we are is the sum of 1000 lies 
> 
> What we know is almost nothing at all 
> 
> But we are what we are till the day we die 
> 
> Or till we don't have the strength to go on 
> 
> Till we don't have the strength to go on." 
> 
> ~Rise Against, "Strength To Go On."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Graphic sexual content at the end of the chapter

Chapter 76: April 19 – May 10, 1996, England

The next day I woke up rather dazed and confused. Neville had managed to carry me, somehow, back to the camp, and I woke up completely enveloped in his embrace.

_Had that really happened?_

The empty feeling was still present in my stomach, sort of twisting around in there like a snake. Still, it didn’t pervade throughout my body anymore; somewhere there was a hint of deep, persistent sadness, and yet somewhere else, the slightest feeling of comfort, simply by still being in Neville’s arms.

It was hard to imagine where I would be without him.

I must have stirred a little too much; Neville immediately whispered my name in my ear. I looked up and at him, blinking my eyes groggily.

“Hey,” he whispered, his voice shaking slightly. I guess it would be a really long time before any of them could trust me again – not trust as in the typical sense, but trust that I wouldn’t try to die again. This was fair. I completely understood and accepted this worry.

“Hey,” I responded calmly, averting my eyes and resting my head on his chest. He started rubbing my back gently, his fingers rubbing into my shoulders as he tried to comfort me.

“How are you doing, Maggie?” Hermione whispered softly.

I shrugged wordlessly, still refusing to remove my head from Neville’s shirt.

“Okay, on a scale of zero to ten, with zero being how you were yesterday, and ten being – I dunno – the day you and Neville finally started snogging – what is your emotional state?” Sam asked tentatively.

I thought for a minute, before managing to open my mouth and whisper, “One and a half, I guess.”

“Okay, that’s good, that’s progress,” Sam responded eagerly.

“Let’s keep talking, okay?” Hermione whispered, “Look, we gave you your space before, and that turned out terribly. Talk to us.”

I looked up and at everyone nervously, feeling my whole body shake slightly. Neville started soothing me quietly, his hands rubbing up and down my arms and his lips pressed gently to the side of my head.

“I feel empty inside,” I mumbled quietly. Neville made a broken sound and Hermione sighed heavily, sitting down on the ground and running a hand through her messy, tangled mop of hair.

“How long have you felt like that?” Sam asked immediately.

“Since… I dunno. Since it happened,” I whispered.

“Alright,” Sam continued, walking up to me and sitting closer, “Did his words first make you feel like that?”

I nodded.

“Do you think that you feel empty inside because you believe what he said about you not truly caring for anyone else?”

“Yes,” Neville answered for me. I shrugged, tears forming in my eyes, and buried my face in his chest again.

“Well that’s bullshit, Maggie,” Sam muttered softly, “If anything, you care too much about everyone, and that’s the bloody problem.”

I looked up and at him again skeptically.

“Look, how did we become friends, look at that,” Sam blabbered, “I didn’t talk to basically anyone except Luna. You found out what happened to my parents. It made you feel sorry for me. You tried to talk to me and I pushed you away. You kept trying to come into contact with me, though, because you _cared_. You saw in me someone like Harry – parents lost to the war, an outcast in one way or the other – and wanted to take care of me, like you do Harry. If it was just about having the people in your life live with you, you wouldn’t have done that. You wouldn’t have risked caring about another individual when any of us could die. But you actually _do_ care about Harry, _a lot_ , and the thought of someone struggling through similar issues that Harry has to struggle with without having someone like you to talk to and process life with was unacceptable to you.”

He had a point, and it made a significant amount of sense.

“And how about us, Mags?” Neville whispered softly, “I mean, you didn’t have to care about me. You didn’t. I was a lumpy boy on the train looking for a toad. But you did, because something about me – my lack of confidence, my nervousness, my silence – told you that I needed someone to care for me. Told you that growing up hadn’t gone so hot, and now going to Hogwarts I was in over my head. And you refused to leave even when I tried to get rid of you – because you cared. If any of that was selfish, you wouldn’t have stayed even when I left.”

I sniffled slightly and nodded, pressing my head up against him again.

“And with me – Maggie, I am annoying as hell,” Hermione snorted. I laughed weakly.

“I am annoying as hell and basically a steamroller, smashing everything in my path. Still, you stuck around, because again – something about me – made you care about me. Whatever it was,” Hermione paused.

“I think I could tell even then that you were… a steamroller… cause if you _weren’t_ a steamroller, other people would drive over you without a second thought,” I muttered quietly.

“Exactly,” Hermione agreed, “I had spent my childhood being the victim of racialized bullying and now I was coming to Hogwarts as a muggleborn. I had to be persistent and stubborn. You have spent our entire lives listening to me and respecting me regardless of the circumstance, so that I would always know – that you _did_ respect me, that you _did_ want to listen to me – so that I would always know that _you_ would never run over _me_.”

“You care so much about people that you have let down _yourself_ ,” Sam continued quietly, “You throw so much of yourself into caring about others that we have reached this point – where thinking that you are incapable of one of your most fundamental emotions makes you confront the reality of yourself. While you have many other wonderful qualities other than caring for people – and I can list them for you, if you really need that for some reason – you always focus on how you care about others, and you probably have that as your best quality, and being told that you can’t even do it is both heartbreaking and world-shattering for you.”

I nodded furiously, sniffling heavily and trying to not cry again.

“Well Harry was wrong. You are perfectly capable of caring for others. In fact, you do it too much. You’ve forgotten how to care for yourself. You are a wonderful human being, who is just as broken as the rest of us,” Sam smirked, “Probably more.”

“Let’s go through all the shite you’ve had to put up with,” Hermione muttered, “You grew up sheltered and only with your family, unable to know what the world was like or go out there and have new experiences outside of your forest. You have spent your entire adolescence trying to keep your adopted brother alive and fighting evil at every turn. Since you were thirteen, you have had the knowledge that your adopted brother would have to defeat the most evil wizard known to man, or perish. You have worried over the return of this evil wizard for most of your youth and have fought great danger to try and protect your adopted brother. You also,” Hermione took a deep breath, “Were emotionally abused and eventually raped by the first person you knew fell in romantic love with.”

I sniffled slightly and buried my face in Neville’s chest again, shaking slightly. He held me tightly to him.

“You have had PTSD and depression and have gotten addicted to drugs and fallen off the deep end only to pull yourself back up. Then you not only have had to deal with danger from Voldemort, but from the Ministry as well – for nearly a year, your life has been lived on pins and needles and constant terror and vigilance,” Hermione paused, “You need to start caring for yourself, because you need it now more than the rest of us.”

I nodded again, now crying furiously, the tears streaming out of my eyes in rivers.

“There’s nothing wrong with caring about yourself,” Hermione sighed, “Some even call it healthy, you know.”

I nodded more, still crying as Neville gently and lovingly rubbed my back.

“Alright,” Hermione sighed, “Well, I think we should just stay put today for once. Maggie could use the rest – we _all_ could use the rest. I’ll go out gathering food. Sam, you want to come?” she asked pertinently. Sam followed without a word and soon Neville and I were alone again, and I pulled back from his shirt to wipe off my face.

“I love you,” he whispered again.

“Are you capable of greeting me in any other way?” I managed to laugh weakly.

“Not for a while,” Neville whispered softly. I looked at him sadly, guiltily, dejectedly.

“The only thing I could think of when I thought you had died was that I hadn’t shown you enough,” Neville muttered very softly, so softly I felt like he was hoping I wouldn’t hear, “That I hadn’t shown you enough how much I love you and how wonderful and amazing you are.”

I sniffled and pushed my head into his chest again, and he gently started to stroke my hair in response.

“I love you,” he murmured again, “I love you, so infinitely much, that I can’t even bear it all the time, and I need you to know this, so that you never doubt your worth in this world again.”

I looked up at him desperately, “But if I cause you this much pain –“

“ _You_ do not cause me pain,” Neville paused, “The set of terrible circumstances currently surrounding the both of our lives do. You are not at fault for your mental illnesses.”

I scoffed quietly.

“ _You are not at fault for your mental illnesses_. They are the combination of a series of terrifyingly horrible events in your life and chemical imbalances in your brain. They are _not_ your fault, nor your responsibility, and thus any actions that arise as a result of them are not your fault,” Neville murmured, “Ergo, _you_ do not cause me any pain.”

I sniffled loudly, but nodded, unwilling to argue with him over the words. I decided that I wanted to believe him, anyway.

“It’s going to take a lot of work for you to recover… again,” Neville sighed softly, “But I promise I’ll be with you every single step of the way.”

I looked up at him and he leaned down to kiss me again, and we kissed each other for a long time, and it was so wonderful and comforting that I could feel more of the emptiness in my body uncoil and disappear, though it was still there a little bit, deep in the pit of my stomach.

Rome wasn’t built in a day.

After all, I still had intrusive, self-loathing thoughts – I still thought I wasn’t deserving of any of this. I would still wake up in the middle of the night clawing at my arms, trying to get myself to break – and Neville would have to grab onto my hands and force me to stop, trying to get me to care for myself instead – trying to get me to stop hurting myself and going down this path. It was hard to reverse a month of utter self loathing… it was hard to erase this pattern in my brain.

We kept going south; we were now deep into England, and much of the forests gave way to large, expansive fields that we were forced to traverse, caught out in the open where anyone could see us. Still, we were so filthy and grungy and feral at this point that it would actually have been difficult to recognize any of us, even Blue; none of us were grooming ourselves as we should have been, and so we looked like completely different individuals. We were just a rag-tag group of teenagers, now, with their strange pet, trying to traverse the English countryside and get to something that was adjacent to civilization.

Hunting in this landscape was a challenge, but it wasn’t like the others would let me do it anyway.

“We aren’t letting you out on your own again,” Sam stated firmly, looking at me furiously when I tried to get away to hunt.

“But I need to help –“ I muttered softly.

“Yeah, you needed to last time, and look what happened,” Hermione reminded kindly, “You can’t be alone at the moment.”

“I’m never letting you out of my sight again,” Neville whispered quietly. I looked at him in shock and he merely shrugged.

“I’m not. I’m sorry if that sounds creepy and stalker-ish, but I’m not letting you out of my sight for a long, long time. It’s not because I don’t trust you as a person…”

“It’s because you don’t trust me with my life,” I muttered dully.

“I’m not risking losing you again.”

He had a point, and I knew the intent, so I didn’t really mind. I liked having him around all the time, frankly. I felt safe, and he was constantly reminding me that he loved me, which was a plus. And it wasn’t like I didn’t have freedom – I wandered around the fields, I peed discretely, he gave me my space. I just had to be somewhere where he could make sure I was breathing and all my blood was inside of my body. Well, except during my period, but it wasn’t like I could do much about that.

I would have done the same with him.

The snake remained coiled up in the pit of my stomach, though it grew a little smaller every day; Hermione would talk to me eagerly about transfiguration, or Sam and I would comment on how beautiful the landscape around us was, or Neville would tell me another one of the million ways he was deeply, hopelessly, and irrevocably in love with me, or Blue would rub up against me and chirp happily at me, glad to see me walking about and actually scratching behind her crest again. Blue seemed the most cheered of all that I was simply alive; I knew I had given her quite the scare, and I did feel exceptionally guilty about that, though it was hard to explain to her what was wrong. Instead, she was consistently checking to make sure that I was okay, and constantly looking at me and following me around, much more so than usual, so it was like having a very clingy puppy that acted much too much like a bird and yet not like a bird at all. She also could tell when I was at my most sad moments – my most empty moments – probably from remembering the patterns from before. In those instances, she would immediately insist on pets and scritchles, and not leave me alone even _more_ than usual, demanding attention and constantly looking at me and cuddling up with me. If that was her version of comfort and therapy, it was surprisingly effective, always leaving me a little cheerier than before.

I had never wronged Blue; I had _created_ her, and made her who she was now. She loved me unconditionally – as much as a _Velociraptor_ with raven-like intelligence levels was able to love someone, which I was sure was a lot – and that was something Harry could never take away from me.

Nor, really, was Neville’s love for me. He kept reassuring me that he loved me, and kept providing affection for me as well – often taking Blue doing so as a cue to being touching me or kissing me. I still had infinite trouble saying I love you in return – I never could get the words out, only because Harry’s words had me doubting myself in almost every single way. Still, Neville reassured me, and after he said “I love you,” he would look at me straight in the eyes and whisper, “And you love me.”

I would nod after that. It wasn’t as good as me actually saying the words out loud, but it was close enough, and it would comfort him and lead to him kissing me, which always made the snake in my stomach feel a little smaller, if just for a little while.

Hermione and Sam helped too, but not quite as much; they mainly helped by talking to me, and reassuring me that my fears were invalid and that my feelings of worthlessness were not based in reality or fact, but rather, in hurtful words said by my brother in a moment of weakness. It also helped that they would complained for me about how horrible it was to be walking all this way – it was good to know that it wasn’t just me, since Neville would never really complain about anything now… as though me being alive was enough to make him never again dislike anything about the world around him.

“Where even are we,” I asked one afternoon as we walked, the sun now beating down on us heavily – it was starting to get warm again.

“No bloody clue,” Hermione groaned. Her use of swears had increased exponentially since we had left Harry’s group.

“Somewhere god forsaken and horrible, no doubt,” Sam muttered.

“I hate walking,” Neville agreed, sitting down in the field in a huff, “My feet feel like they’re going to fall off.”

“At least we haven’t run into any trouble?” Hermione offered weakly.

“Yeah, it’s only a matter of time,” I sighed, “We’re _magnets_ for trouble.”

“We just have to get to London. Then we’re in the clear,” Hermione stated firmly, trying to convince herself with her own words.

“My _feet are going to fall off_ ,” Neville groaned softly, rubbing them gently. I had been hesitant on offering affection before he did prior to this point, but now I couldn’t help but lean towards him and reach out to rub his feet, gently kneading them in my fingers. Where I had been bad at back massages, the feet were much too rough and bony for me to actually inflict much pain on them; instead, I actually seemed to be helping Neville out, and he leaned forward to kiss me so passionately I felt dizzy. Whether it was from the good feeling of the massage or the joy at me offering physical affection without request, I didn’t care; I was just happy that he was happy.

“Well, we’ll rest again,” Sam sighed angrily, “But we can’t take very long breaks. We gotta get to the city, we’re like sitting ducks out here.”

“Yeah, okay, drill sergeant,” Hermione rolled her eyes.

“We are!”

“Yeah, and if we push ourselves too much too quickly, we’ll be too pained to keep going – we gotta pace ourselves!” she retorted irritably.

“We can rest when we’re in London!”

“Can’t rest if we’re _dead!_ ”

“That’s exactly what being dead means,” I muttered sarcastically.

“Honey, no, please,” Neville begged softly. I nodded, frowning at him apologetically.

My comment made them stop bickering; Hermione looked at me sadly before turning away, sitting in the grass and looking away from me. Sam frowned at me heavily and walked over to another portion of the field to face away from me.

“Sorry,” I whispered.

“It’s okay… you just aren’t better yet, and it’s hard to be reminded of that,” Hermione murmured to her own ankles.

I decided to try harder now. Or at least, to try harder to _pretend_ that I was better.

We kept walking, now in the midst of a forest again, our feet aching and our hearts weary from the long time spent traveling. This forest was patchy and sparse, unlike the woods we were used to in Scotland; in fact, we knew that it would probably be ending soon, which was unfortunate and frustrating, as the woods provided more cover for our movements, and more safety from danger.

We came across a river, though I wasn’t sure what sort of river it was; it was in fact more like a brook running through the woodland, just deep enough that we could probably wade in it.

“I formally vote for bathing?” Sam muttered sadly, “We can take the time for that”

“Plus it’s bloody _hot_ out,” Neville groaned, “We left in the middle of winter – almost all the clothes we all grabbed was built for keeping us warm, not cool – I think we each have a pair of shorts and a t-shirt and that’s it, nothing to change into…”

“So we bathe and wash our clothes while we do so?” Hermione offered.

“Seems like a smart decision,” I murmured quietly. I could distinctly hear one of them sigh. I was getting better, but I still acted dejected almost all of the time. The empty knot in my stomach often would just sit there rather than coil up and get larger, now, though there had not yet been a time when it felt like the emptiness was gone completely.

“So… er… how should we do this?” Sam asked quietly.

“Well, I could stand guard… erm… so that we don’t get ambushed,” Hermione quickly checked herself, stammering and changing her sentence midway through.

“You mean, stand guard and make sure I don’t drown myself?” I answered cynically. Hermione flushed and looked away from me. We all still would talk while we walked about my feelings and problems, but they could probably tell at this point that I was getting sick of it to some degree. No, I wasn’t better, but I also wasn’t exactly happy that we focused on it all the goddamned time.

“No,” Neville stated quietly. Hermione looked at him in confusion and opened her mouth to respond.

“I mean,” Neville sighed, “Look, I just – I – it’s not that I don’t trust you, Hermione, it’s that I – when – erm…”

I looked at Neville in confusion and he turned to me, running a hand sadly through his hair and fidgeting slightly. Both his hair and beard had grown so long at this point that it was like he was a Sasquatch; Sam also had extremely long hair and an extremely long beard at this point, though not as long as Neville’s as he hadn’t been growing it out when he left (and honestly I think Neville’s hair just grew faster). Both Hermione and I also had extremely hair legs and armpits at this point, and we had forgone the use of sanitary products during the periods we had been unfortunate enough to have during this venture. We didn’t have any, and our clothes were dirty anyway.

We all _really_ needed to wash up.

“Look, it’s not a statement on Hermione so much as it is a statement of how broken and horrified and despondent and _lost_ I felt when I thought Maggie was dead, and how I can’t let her out of my sight not because I want to control her, but because if I don’t I think my brain will make me imagine the sight of her lying there again and I just – I’ll have a mental breakdown,” Neville whispered quietly.

 _Oh my god_.

Neville was fidgeting, not meeting my eyes, and Hermione had tears glistening in her eyes, and Sam was grimacing slightly.

_I gave him PTSD._

Well, now I’d done it. Now I’d really fucking taken the cake, and I couldn’t even do anything about it, because anything self-destructive would make it worse.

_You could get **better**. _

The thought was potent, and true, so I was forced to acknowledge it.

**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**

“Alright… um.. can we talk about it for a minute alone, though?” I whispered softly. Sam and Hermione immediately walked over to another section of the woods, talking quietly with each other as I turned back to Neville.

“If we… erm… if I try to bathe in the river in front of you… um... You’re going to see a lot more of me than I think we were planning to do now. I mean you haven’t even… er… seen me without my bra,” I mumbled quietly, my face flushing with embarrassment. A summer of having sex with random strangers, but with Neville it was different. With Neville, I wasn’t trying to forget something that I didn’t want to feel anymore.

With Neville, I was actively _trying_ to feel, trying to experience, trying to hold onto memories and thoughts and sensations – especially now – making me more self conscious than when I just… checked out, and only focused on pleasure.

“I know,” Neville acknowledged, flushing as well, “I can… look away until you’re actually in the water… and then just focus on your face… if you want?”

“To do that though you’d have to be kind of close, like standing on the river bank you’d be looking down at me and could see everything anyway…” I murmured, flushing more madly still.

“Well I… er…” Neville was so red he might as well have been a tomato in human form, “I could… go in there with you?”

_Both of us naked?_

_At the **same** time? _

I was so red I felt like you could fry an egg on my face, and so many different emotions coursed through me all at once it was almost like an overload of sensation – I was excited and my heart was fluttering much too wildly and yet I was nervous and embarrassed and I didn’t think I was ready for anything like that to happen yet, not really, no matter how much I might try to make it happen in self-destructive moments, but I was also curious, and turned on of course, that was there too, and a little scared, and there was just so much happening inside of me all at once that I actually could barely feel the snake curled up inside of me – almost like it was being erased – and I was rooted to the spot with my embarrassment…

“Sorry, that was really dumb, sorry,” Neville stammered quickly, looking away from me and at anything else.

“No that’s… a good idea… we’ll just have to… erm…” I mumbled, “Turn away from each other? While we…. Get in?”

“Yeah,” Neville nodded, still not meeting my eyes, “Yeah, okay.”

“Sam, we’re going to… uh…” I called out, but my face flushed again.

‘We have a plan. You two mind standing lookout but not, you know, looking?” Neville asked, trying to sound normal and failing miserably.

“Yeah, no problem!” Sam also sounded awkward as hell. I turned away from Neville and trusted that he was doing the same, and stripped down out of my clothes. I set them at the edge of the brook and then slowly waded in, the cold water passing over me in droves. I walked out to the middle of the river, the water up to just above my breasts, and sighed with relief.

“Okay,” I whispered, looking at the other side of the riverbank. I heard rustling around, but I waited until I heard the sound of the water sloshing around; I looked up to see Neville in the river, the water up to his stomach, him still a foot taller than me.

“Okay,” he whispered back, and we flushed heavily at each other, both acutely aware of the fact that we were completely and utterly naked.

“So – we don’t really have _soap_ –“

“Guess we can just try to get the water to go everywhere important,” I offered. Neville nodded and we spent an awkward few minutes twisting around in the river, trying to face away from each other and give each other privacy as we cleaned every inch of our bodies, including our more private parts. It was a difficult balance to find between giving each other privacy and reassuring each other that we were okay, and I wasn’t harming myself and Neville wasn’t having a breakdown when he couldn’t make sure I was okay.

“Alright,” Neville murmured after we seemed to be done cleaning our bodies – as much as we had tried, it had been essentially impossible to not glimpse _anything_ – I had seen a flash of his buttocks and I knew he had seen one of my nipples and was trying really hard to not talk about it.

“Clothing?” I offered slightly, in a somewhat shaky voice.

“Yeah – er – um – I’ll go get it,” Neville offered, “Just – you know – look away, I guess?”

I nodded, and turned my head way from the riverbank, and Neville walked up to it and grabbed all the clothing, coming back and handing me mine as we took them and dunked them into the brook, which wasn’t going so fast that I worried about losing a sock, but fast enough that I felt at least some of the grime was coming off. My panties were and embarrassing mess and I didn’t want anyone to see them… _ever_.

“I want to buy new underwear when we reach civilization,” I muttered quietly.

“I want to forget the sight of blood seeping down Hermione’s legs,” Neville blanched. I giggled softly.

“But not mine?”

“I didn’t really care about yours… I dunno why. Because Hermione is practically my sister? Because I’ve seen you vomit violently into a sink at a launderette?” Neville smiled slightly, “Because I don’t really get squeamish about stuff like that in general, but just – there are boundaries with Hermione I don’t like to cross?”

I laughed softly, “Alright then.”

We finished cleaning our clothes and then stood awkwardly in the river; our clothes were drying on the bank; now we had to get out of the watr. Still, I was getting more and more comfortable by the second – a huge part of me wanted to approach him and just kiss him – not sex, nothing like that, but just… to be closer to him…

“I’m glad you got to get clean,” Neville paused, “You needed it – you look cheerier already.”

It was true; I did. I didn’t even –

_I couldn’t even feel the snake anymore._

No corner of me felt empty.

“I don’t think it was the river,” I paused softly, “I think – I just think it was you.”

“Wh- what?” Neville stammered, looking embarrassed.

“I mean – right now – there is so much trust involved in this moment,” I mumbled nervously, “That just – it cheered me – to know that you do trust me this much… and… I dunno… even though we didn’t come in here with the express intent of increased intimacy… I feel…”

“Yeah,” Neville immediately answered, nodding eagerly, “Yeah, I agree.”

I hesitantly stepped closer to him; he did the same, his eyes never leaving mine. We kept approaching each other slowly, both of us watching the other’s movements, waiting for one of us to decide to turn back or look away or reach for our clothes that were probably nowhere near dry. Eventually, we were very close to each other; any closer and I think he’d be able to feel my breasts, but then again, they were large, cumbersome, always in the way – actually, we could probably keep inching for a _little_ bit, but he seemed unwilling to move anymore.

“I…” I swallowed heavily. I hadn’t said this at all since my… breakdown, and I hadn’t offered it to him without him saying it first since the fight with Harry.

“You?” Neville looked at me nervously, hovering slightly in the spot he refused to inch closer to me from.

“I love you, Neville,” I whispered very softly. Neville looked overjoyed at this; his entire face broke into a smile and he crossed the barrier, pulling me into a long passionate kiss. I could feel every inch of him… _every_ inch of him. He was hard, and without clothing to stop him, very much completely all out there – and now pressed up tightly against my lower stomach – no _wonder_ he hadn’t wanted to move any closer – holy fucking crap –

I felt weak in the knees again and light in my abdomen as I kissed him back just as passionately, running my fingers tightly through his hair and wrapping my arms all the way around him, pulling myself up higher into his embrace subconsciously. Now he was… between my legs, instead of pressed against me, and he groaned very loudly in my mouth, and I could _feel_ myself getting wet and blood pumping down to my nether regions, and I wondered what he was thinking with his penis in between my legs and my breasts pressed against his chest –

“Oh my god,” Neville suddenly whispered, pulling away from me and panting heavily. I flushed madly, stepping backwards in embarrassment.

“I – very nearly got carried away there – I am so sorry – please don’t be mad at me,” Neville stammered nervously.

“I’m not mad,” the thought came out in more of a giggle than anything I had said in a long time, “I’m – erm – well, let’s just say that my physical reaction to the evnt was pleased.”

“Same,” Neville mumbled, looking at me nervously and shifting awkwardly, “But we can’t –“

“No,” I agreed, “It’s too soon, and we have no way of protecting ourselves without magic or… civilization.”

“Alright,” Neville nodded, “Well then – we – we really walked right into temptation here – I –“

I cut him off with another kiss, but at a respectful distance; still, I grabbed one of his hands and gently led it to one of my breasts, looking at him expectantly until he nodded and placed his hand on it, gently kneading it and massaging it. He reached with the other hand for the other breast to do the same, his face flushed heavily, his eyes never leaving mine as he touched every inch of them and rubbed gentle circles around the nipples.

“ _Maggie_ ,” he whispered huskily, his voice coming out like a guttural moan more than anything else, and I bit my lip slightly to stop myself from moaning – our friends couldn’t have been _too_ far away. I eagerly leaned in to kiss him as he continued to massage my breasts, running my hands down from his shoulders across his back, pressing my fingernails against the skin of it. He moaned into my mouth and squeezed my breasts harder, pressing himself against me so I once again could feel his penis against my stomach, eagerly pressing into my skin as though that could solve the ache he was no doubt feeling in that region. I continued to move my hands down until finally I slid them across his buttocks and squeezed them tightly. He moaned louder and kissed me heavier, his hands now not moving but just squeezing my breasts tightly with the shock of me holding onto his naked butt. He started massaging my boobs again, but now more eagerly, pressing himself so tightly against me that he might as well have been inside of me anyway, his lips moving furiously and hungrily against mine. I moaned, weak in the knees, physically feeling blood pumping into my lower abdomen and my whole body getting ready for an even that wasn’t going to happen, my knees growing weaker by the second as I eagerly attacked his lips with mine and rolled his butt cheeks in my hands.

Still, he had to pull away eventually, stopping kissing me and breathing heavily, his nose and forehead pressed up against mine, his whole body physically quaking with eagerness and tension.

“I love you,” he managed to gasp out, and with one final kneading of them in his hands pulled away.

“I love you,” I agreed nervously, flushing madly and looking at him with a small smile.

“Alright – um – clothes?” he asked, his voice squeaky again.

“Not that you’ll probably fit in yours,” I grinned cheekily.

“You would be amazed at how well I can – erm – force myself into those,” Neville mumbled in embarrassment.

I giggled softly again, reveling at the sound, “Lots of sexual frustration?”

“It’s your damn fault,” Neville laughed, his face spreading into a wide grin.

“I will not apologize for art.”

“You are beautiful,” Neville whispered softly.

I leaned in and kissed him again – while I was sure the empty feeling would return, I knew the intimacy and love in this moment would keep it at bay for at least a little while longer yet.

**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOLY CRAP Maggie isn't close to being better yet though cause depression and suicide attempts suck! Still, please leave a comment letting me know what you thought! :D


	78. Chapter Seventy - Seven: May 11 - June 18, 1996, England

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Before we packed our bags 
> 
> And left all this behind us in the dust 
> 
> We had a place that we could call home 
> 
> And a life no one could touch 
> 
> Don't hold me up now 
> 
> I can stand my own ground 
> 
> I don't need your help now 
> 
> You will let me down, down, down! ... 
> 
> We are the angry and the desperate 
> 
> The hungry and the cold 
> 
> We are the ones who kept quiet 
> 
> And always did what we were told 
> 
> But we've been sweating while you slept so calm 
> 
> In the safety of your home 
> 
> We've been pulling out the nails that hold up 
> 
> Everything you've known." 
> 
> ~ Rise Against, "Prayer of the Refugee".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Mild sexual content

Chapter 77: May 11 – June 18, 1996, England

 Still, the next day I woke up still feeling moderately empty inside; better than I had been before, but that didn’t change the fact that the feeling came back overnight. As amazing as the day before had been, no one was capable of fixing a person in a single day.

So I woke up that morning, back to feeling sad, but still was better than I had been before. Neville was clearly able to tell the difference between the two types of sad as I woke up and sat upright, looking at him with an expression somewhere between despondence and happiness at seeing him. He smiled at me in response, leaned in, and kissed me.

“One step at a time, love,” he whispered softly in my ear. I nodded, stretching and getting up from my spot.

“So should we keep moving?” Hermione asked tiredly. Blue scurried up to me and nuzzled up against me, her tail held out rigidly behind her as always.

“Yeah, I reckon so,” Sam muttered, “I want to get to London now. It’s been enough wandering time.”

“How do we find out where we are, though?” Hermione frowned, “We can’t use magic without getting found out by the Ministry…”

“We can try to find out what direction we’re headed in – I assume south, I mean we’ve been trying for that for a while. Then we could… I dunno… aim towards the sea? Maybe?” Neville offered.

“We’ve been going in a southwards way the entire time, though sometimes we’ve veered off east or west to follow the farmland or forests,” Hermione paused, “So we might not be close to a coast at all.”

“Let’s just keep heading south, but not veer away from a road when we see one like we usually do. Let’s instead follow the first road we come to, in as south and eastward direction as we can, so we can try to get to London,” Sam offered.

“Sounds like a plan,” Neville nodded eagerly. We continued to walk, then, moving out of the sparse woodland and back into open farmland. My feet sort of didn’t have any feeling left in them; after all, we had been walking almost nonstop for months, and I was exhausted. I leaned heavily against Neville as we walked, and he wrapped his arm around my shoulder comfortingly.

“The main question is,” Hermione stated thoughtfully after a short period of walking, “What do we do when we _get_ to London?”

“Go to Headquarters so Sam can get into the flat?” I asked softly.

“Yes, but what if Harry is already there?” she muttered angriliy.

“I’ll be fine, Hermione, this isn’t a George-type situation –“

“Oh I don’t doubt that you’ll be fine with him,” she grumbled, “I doubt that I will be able to keep my cool around him.”

Neville snorted loudly. Sam grinned as well, a murderous glint in his eyes.

“Guys, it’s not Harry’s fault that I am screwed up –“

“It’s his fault that you spiraled,” Neville responded firmly, “And no, it might not be quite the same as the George situation, but he doesn’t get to just _get away with it_.”

“And we’re not waiting around for you to be okay with confronting him, either, because he didn’t just wrong _you_ , he wronged _us_ , so don’t tell us not to yell at him,” Hermione stated clearly.

“But –“

“Look, it’s one thing with what happened with George. That was definitely something that you needed to be ready to handle. But Harry’s words hurt everyone, and frankly, you nearly died, and he doesn’t get to not know that information,” Sam muttered angrily.

I sighed heavily, “Alright.”

“At any rate, he probably won’t be there. Lord knows, there are three of us, and one of him,” Neville sighed.

“I hate talking about him like he’s the enemy!” I shouted furiously. They all looked at me in shock.

“He was just expressing his frustrations, alright? Yeah, he might have said some things that he shouldn’t have, however he had every right to be angry – he just didn’t express his anger in the right way. We’re still on his side, ultimately; we just need to come clean with each other as a group about his actions and our opinion of them, and how we have wronged each other on all sides – well, except Sam,” I stated in a calmer voice.

They all looked at me in surprise.

“Look, I’m mad at him, but I don’t think we should blame him for the chemical balances in my brain, alright?” I muttered angrily.

“Well it’s certainly not _your_ fault,” Neville shot back determinedly.

“No,” I admitted begrudgingly, “But it’s not his; at any rate, I tend to keep the fact that I have depression quiet, since it’s now only really affected my psyche in noticeable ways a few times. He only knew I have PTSD, which shouldn’t theoretically make me react like this to his words.”

“That’s… understandable,” Hermione acknowledged.

“And we can’t really waste time fighting amongst ourselves when we have so many people out for our necks,” I sighed, “Come on, let’s keep moving.”

So we kept walking until we reached a road; it wasn’t a highway or really any sort of noticeable landmark. We kept walking along it, looking scruffy and disheveled and completely unkempt; only a few cars passed us, though I’m sure we attracted stares.

“I’m glad feathered dinosaurs isn’t horrifically widely accepted by the public,” I commented lightly as Blue walked beside us.

“Yeah, she just kind of looks like a really odd bird,” Neville agreed.

“I’m not entirely convinced that’s not what she is,” Sam joked.

“She’s a pointy bird,” Hermione grinned.

Blue looked at us all incredulously; I wouldn’t have been surprised if she knew we were talking about her. She still was fiercely intelligent, unlike her fossil counterparts; I hoped that I would survive this mess long enough to figure out how to modify that, without impairing brain function –

It was nice to have the energy to think about these things again.

The grassland seemed to continue on forever; I was feeling even more exhausted and I sort of almost collapsed onto the ground. Neville caught me, however, and looked at me in worry.

“We have to figure out a different way to proceed,” he murmured quietly, “Think of all the injuries Mags has had since we left Hogwarts –“

“There are multiple reasons it’s a wonder she hasn’t died, no one’s denying this,” Sam grunted, “But what else can we do?”

Neville’s face contorted with determination as we kept walking along the obscure road; we walked until it was twilight, and then found a small patch of woods to crash in again. I fell asleep instantly; they didn’t wake me up until much later the next day

 “Wha – what time is it?” I asked groggily.

“We figured you should get some rest, at least,” Neville soothed softly in my ear, his lips tickling it slightly, “The others are out looking for some food.”

“Okay,” I mumbled softly. We were alone for the first time since the river. After I had managed to say I love you again, we had made out for a little while longer and then left the river. Having been so intimately pressed against one another, neither of us had any qualms about seeing each other naked; we briefly admired each other and then quickly got dressed before Sam or Hermione (or, I suppose, Blue, though I doubt she would have cared much) saw. But, since then, we had not been alone together. Looking deeply into his eyes, I could feel my heart pound loudly in my chest; my knees grew weak, even though I was sitting on the ground.

“Um,” I whispered softly.

“Sorry,” Neville stammered nervously. I leaned in and kissed him softly, but my entire being was begging for something more than softness; I wanted to pull at his hair, and tear off his clothes, and press my body up against his so I could feel every inch of it. I restrained myself, however, under the knowledge that our friends could reappear at any moment.

“I love you,” I mumbled quietly, looking at him as I said it, hoping that maintaining eye contact would keep my genitalia in my pants.

“I love you,” he responded tenderly, and pulled me in for a long and passionate kiss. I still tried to contain myself – they could be back at any time – and simply wrapped my arms around him tightly.

“I thought I lost you,” he whispered very softly then. I looked at him sadly, guilt growing in my chest, feeding off the lingering feeling of emptiness.

“I thought you were gone, and I’d never see you again, and I’d be without you forever and I –“ Neville’s voice broke.

 _You’ve been bottling this up until I was better enough to handle it…_ I thought sadly, looking at him desperately and guiltily.

“I’m sorry,” I mumbled softly< “I’m so sorry –“

“It’s not your fault,” Neville insisted quietly, “It’s not.”

“I’m still sorry –“

“I just can’t lose you, okay? At least, not like that…”

“You won’t, I promise,” I whispered earnestly, looking at him as seriously as I could, hoping to convey the message.

“What if something else triggers you, again, what if you have another spiral –“

“I promise to tell you about it,” I said, actually meaning it; I didn’t want to do that to Neville again. I hadn’t thought it through the first time and I knew that I could not exist with the weight of that on my conscious, regardless of the presence of an afterlife or not – even if I just blacked out for eternity, the thought of him knowing I had killed myself, and his reaction to it, would be enough right before I committed the act to stop me. Maybe I was being too optimistic with regards to my self control; maybe not. But right now, I knew that I couldn’t attempt it again. And I didn’t want to, either.

“Okay,” he mumbled skeptically, tears overflowing from his eyes and down his cheeks.

“I promise,” I insisted, looking at him desperately. He nodded wordlessly.

“I love you,” I whispered again. He cried harder, but I could distinctly hear him blubber out, “I love you.”

I held him tightly in my arms for a long time, hoping to reassure him. I knew better than anyone the effects of a traumatic vision – of seeing someone you love _so much_ – dead before you. I felt terrible for having done that to him, but I knew that following that feeling of self-loathing down the path it inevitably lead to wouldn’t help anyone.

Still, overcoming mental illness was more than just sheer willpower. It wasn’t that simple, and it wasn’t that easy. I broke down into heavy, horrified tears, my body shaking again as I curled up into a small ball.

“Oh no – I – oh no,” Neville sobbed. I looked at him and tried to stop crying, but I found myself unable to, overwhelmed with emotions flooding through me at that moment.

“I am – oh god,” Neville groaned, holding onto my shoulders as tightly as possible. I could tell he was trying to force me to stop crying without _actually_ forcing me to stop crying.

“I’m sorry,” I blubbered.

We both were crying uncontrollably and staring at each other, our various mental illnesses getting in the way of normal human interaction. Neville was terrified of losing me, and I was worthless for making him feel that way.

Neville suddenly started to laugh; it was weak and still filled with tears, but it was definitely a laugh. I stared at him in shock, my entire body freezing up with it as I watched him cry in my spot. He leaned on me, still shaking slightly, his forehead pressed up tightly against mine.

“We are both,” he chortled weakly, “ _So_ screwed up.”

I laughed in response; he had a major point. I leaned in and kissed him for a long time, and I ran my fingers eagerly through his hair, holding him tightly to me. We continued to make out for a few long minutes, not getting too heavily into the action, given that the others could be back at any moment.

I pulled back from him, breathing heavily, trying to not get carried away. Our cheeks were tearstained, our eyes puffy and red, but still we were both smiling at each other.

“At least we’re screwed up together?” I offered, weakly stretching my smile wider. Neville nodded again and leaned in to kiss me once more before we could hear the sounds of footsteps approaching.

“Alright lovebirds,” Sam stated irritably, “We have mushrooms!”

We ate the scraps of food slowly, to savor every morsel, but it was clear that we needed to go somewhere with more food available, and soon. We hadn’t been able to hunt for a few days and I could tell that Blue was getting hungry. She had eaten a squirrel or two, but that wasn’t enough for the long haul.

So we kept walking, and we found another obscure road and started to follow it. I didn’t know how to determine if we were headed towards a town or not; all I knew was that my stomach was growling, and I was much too tired to keep moving.

A car began to pass us; Neville sent me into throws of shock as he stuck out his hand and waved the car down. The car slowed and Neville ran up to the side of it, trying to look what I hoped was apologetic.

“Hey, would you mind telling me how to get to London from here?” Neville asked, looking more confident than I had seen him in a long time.

“Yeah, just keep headed the way you are, you aren’t that far out,” the driver explained, before zooming away. Presumably, he didn’t want us to try to get a ride with him.

“See? That wasn’t hard,” Neville grinned.

“Neville, how the _hell_ did you manage to do that?” Sam demanded furiously.

“We need to get to London, fast,” Neville shrugged, his eyes flickering briefly to mine, “We can’t go on much longer.”

“What if he had been dangerous?” Hermione snapped.

“I took my chances. Come on, let’s keep going,” Neville urged, and we started walking again.

I was tired, and I was sick of walking, and I just wanted to _be there_ already. We kept walking and we reached a small suburb; it was actually starting to look like civilization again, and this heartened me as we walked through all the neatly arranged and tightly packed houses.

“Let’s see if we can try and find out where we are,” Hermione sighed wearily. We walked into a café and sat down, all dirty and disheveled, hot and sweaty in our clothes that we had been wearing for too many days in a row. 

“Can I help you?” a very angry looking waitress asked. I’m sure we weren’t exactly the kind of clientele she was used to. We probably reeked, as well.

“Yes, could you tell us where we are?” Hermione asked politely, clearly trying to look civilized and not-homeless.

“Prestwood. Can you _pay_ for anything?” the waitressed asked scathingly.

“Yeah,” Sam angrily pulled out his wad of cash, “Can we have some food, then?”

“Here are some menus,” the waitress offered begrudgingly, and then quickly ran off, as though standing near us all for two long would infect her.

“So we keep going towards London? We’re close,” Hermione suggested.

“I don’t see how we have another choice,” Neville sighed. Blue was sitting underneath our table, hissing at my feet, clearly angry at being in such a place.

“It shouldn’t take us many more days to get there,” Hermione paused, “But we’re going to have to be more careful with Blue now, we’re very close to the city…”

“Yeah, I figured,” I sighed dejectedly. We ordered food and ate it as quickly as possible; I fed Blue some meat items underneath the table as we did so. We then left and continued to walk through the small town until we were out of it; we walked amongst all of the small houses and past some empty fields until we found a small grove of trees to sleep in once more.

And so, the next day we continued to walk towards London, all of us exhausted and sick of moving, following the roads and any signs that pointed towards London, which were getting increasingly more frequent. My feet continued to feel like they were going to fall out, and at this point I was more than just physically exhausted; I was so mentally exhausted that I felt like I would sleep for days the moment we were at the flat.

We reached the city limits proper midway through the day; it was actually amazing how close we were.

“So, we find the nearest tube station and get on?” Neville offered tiredly.

“I think Sam doesn’t have –“ Hermione began.

“I’ll buy a card, it’s fine. I need to go to Headquarters anyway…” he frowned.

“Why don’t you and I go to Headquarters so Mrs. Longbottom can let you into the flat, and Neville and Maggie will go to it so she can rest?” Hermione suggested.

“Sounds like a plan,” Neville agreed. Blue, meanwhile, looked even more upset now that we were in the middle of a major city. The loud cars passing us frightened her at every turn; she was hissing at everything and everyone, and looking at me as though I had killed her firstborn child.

I picked her up wearily in my arms and nodded at Neville as we walked through the streets; we finally found a tube stop. Hermione and Sam went off to one of the ticket stations as Neville and I went underground, heading towards the train and getting on it. Blue was hissing even louder, but there weren’t many people on the train; those that were didn’t pay much attention to us and our strange bird.

“Is that some sort of cassowary?” one man _did_ ask as the tube neared the center of the city.

“Yeah,” I answered nonchalantly.

“How’d you get one?” he asked skeptically.

“Dad has a whole farm of them,” Neville lied. The man didn’t seem to want to push it – London was definitely a don’t ask, don’t tell sort of city – and got off at a stop soon afterwards.

The tube got more crowded the closer we got to the center of the city; the more crowded it got, the more people ignored Blue, and the more Blue was upset about the situation. Though I wasn’t exactly in the best place mentally, I did manage to have the wherewithal to sooth her, gently scratching her behind the ears as we continued going towards the center of the city.

When we got close, we had to switch lines, which was very difficult with her thrashing about; Neville took her from me and took over my role in soothing her, understanding that I didn’t’ have the strength to continue to do so. We switched trains and continued to ride across the city, me almost falling asleep against Neville’s shoulder, looking forward to a warm shower and a warmer bed.

Eventually we reached the stop that I just instinctually recognized from the summer prior; we got off the train and walked back out into the daylight, hurrying through the streets towards the flat. If the Ministry _did_ know its approximate location, we didn’t want to give ourselves away; soon we reached the building and hastily clambered up the stairs, Blue now hissing louder than ever at our speedy and furtive movements. Still, we made it to the flat and Neville had already pulled out his keys, fumbling with them nervously as he opened the door and hauled the three of us inside.

It was dark, and dusty; there was no sign of Harry. Neville turned on a light and I coughed slightly as some dust went up into the air. Blue coughed as well; Neville immediately strode across the tiny room to open the window, aware of her delicate lung system.

“Shower,” I muttered softly. Neville nodded and he followed me as I went into the bathroom, unlike in the not so distant past.

**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**

“Nev, I need to pee,” I giggled softly. Neville nodded, coloring with embarrassment, and left the room. When he and I had both relieved ourselves, we stripped naked for a second time in our lives, and got into the shower together, looking at each other tiredly.

“I don’t particularly want to do anything,” Neville clarified, “I just –“

“Don’t want to let me out of your sight, I know,” I sighed softly.

“it’s not just that… though of course that’s a part of it… I’m just really tired and I can only imagine how tired _you_ must be. I want to help you out,” Neville clarified, his eyes filled with a tenderness that made more of that empty feeling ebb away in a permanent sort of fashion.

“Okay,” I whispered softly. He immediately pulled me in for a kiss, a long and soft one that mad me tingle from head to foot. I moaned softly into his mouth and he continued to kiss me for many more minutes, his lips moving against mine as I ran my fingers hungrily through his hair. I wanted nothing more than to keep kissing him but he had other plans; he pulled back from me and gently ran his fingers through my hair.

I sighed and leaned into his hand, and he looked at me lovingly as he started kissing my forehead. I sat there and let him kiss what seemed like every inch of my forehead; when he stopped with that, he started kissing all of my cheeks and my nose and my lips very briefly again and I don’t think there was any inch on my face that he hadn’t kissed.

“Nev –“ I whispered softly.

“Mags,” he murmured, “Let me show you how much I love you.”

I nodded weakly, my body trembling slightly, “I know how much you love me, though-“

“I never want you to forget it again,” he responded desperately, “I don’t want to lose you like that.”

“Okay,” I whispered softly, my heart rate quickening madly. Neville resumed kissing me, his lips now on my neck, gently trailing from one side of it to the other as the hot water washed over us. He covered every inch of the front of my neck and I moaned again as he latched onto a soft corner of my neck and started to suck on it. His hands were firmly on my hips and he continued to kiss now across my shoulders, his beard tickling my skin as he made his journey. He made sure to look up at me frequently, returning back to my lips and kissing me, before going back to trail kisses all the way down my arms and across every one of my fingers. He then went back up and across the top of my chest to go back down my other arm, and I was moaning fairly softly but also constantly as his hands moved across my stomach and down the outside of my leg.

“Oh Nev,” I moaned before I could stop myself; my abdomen was light and everything was tingling as his lips mad their way back up to my breasts. He laughed softly against me and I ran my fingers through his hair and tugged on it slightly, and he kept kissing every inch of my breasts, now, his mouth trialing down to my nipples and lightly kissing the both of them. I tried to not moan too loudly has he journeyed back up and kissed my lips, before turning me around and kissing every inch of my back now, not one to leave any stone unturned. I moaned again as his hands reached up to hold onto my chest as he did so, my hips wiggling of their own accord with eagerness and desire.

“Mags,” he responded huskily as he finished kissing every inch of the upper third of my body, turning me around to face him. I pulled him in for a very long and very passionate kiss, my tongue digging into his mouth and making him groan louder.

“I love you,” I whispered softly. He looked at me happily and I wrapped my arms around him and held him tightly.

“I love you,” he responded immediately.

“I promise I’ll never do that to you again,” I continued, looking at him desperately. His eyes immediately filled with tears and I kissed them away.

“ _Never_ ,” I reassured.

“Okay,” he blubbered softly.

“I could never hurt you like that again,” I whimpered.

“You didn’t hurt me –“

“I hurt you,” I stated softly, “There’s no getting around that, but I won’t do it again.”

“You _didn’t_ –“

I cut him off with a kiss; this was a circuitous argument. He kissed me back desperately and suddenly I was pressed up against the wall of the shower, breathing heavily into his mouth as he held tightly to me and refused to let go.

“Maggie,” he whispered softly, “I love you –“

“I love you,” I responded, “Now come on, we have to actually shower…”

It took a long time to get clean. We had _months_ of muck and gunk all over us – the hostel shower hadn’t exactly been _clean._ I enjoyed running my fingers through his excessively long hair to clean it, scratching his scalp delicately as I rubbed out all the dirt. He basically buried his face in my hair for a long time as the water ran over it, washing away the muck and grime as it did so.

“How long are you going to sit around in there?” I laughed softly.

“Forever,” he mumbled into my hair. I laughed again and turned around to kiss him for a long time.

Eventually we exited the shower, simply because we couldn’t wait around in there forever. Neville looked outside and saw only Blue was out there, watching the telly in a mesmerized sort of fashion; we snuck out buck-naked and into our bedroom.

**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**

I didn’t even get dressed before I collapsed on the bed, almost instantly falling asleep. Neville quickly reached for me and dragged me up from the bed, laughing slightly as I protested and collapsed into his arms.

“We should stay up for Sam and Mione,” he chortled. I groaned in exhausted protest, nestling against his chest like a pillow.

“Alright Mags,” he murmured softly, “I’ll help you, come on.” I groggily allowed him to help me into a pair of pajamas still in the dresser and then curled back up onto the bed, unable to not fall asleep.

When I woke up, Blue was nestled against my side, sleeping peacefully. It was darker outside. I looked and saw the door was slightly ajar; I got up slowly and went out into the living room. Neville, Sam, and Hermione were all sitting around the table talking quietly.

“You alright, Mags?” Neville asked immediately, getting up from his seat and running to me.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I answered groggily, “What’s going on?”

“Well we tracked down Neville’s Gran,” Hermione paused.

“Obviously, or else Sam wouldn’t be here,” I scoffed. I was tired, but I wasn’t _that_ out of it.

“Well, we talked to the Order while we were there,” Hermione continued. I immediately sat down at the fourth chair, looking at the two of them nervously.

“We were just telling Neville… apparently the others have been missing since we left them,” Sam muttered nervously.

“ _Missing_?” I gasped, “But wait… weren’t we missing, too?”

“They had people tracking us,” Hermione paused, “I mean, not _tracking_ us, exactly… if they had I’m sure someone would have come out of the woodwork when you…”

“Yeah,” I acknowledged softly.

“But periodically someone would sight us – or they’d hear a sighting of us – because once we got to the fields we weren’t exactly invisible,” Hermione paused, “And even in the cities and the forests – occasionally they would find a rumor of us. But…”

“No Harry rumors?” I whispered hoarsely.

“None,” Sam confirmed grimly, “Now, they could just be doing an _exceptional_ job of hiding – I mean, they don’t have Blue, which is what made us stick out so much…”

“But it’s worrisome nonetheless,” Neville’s lips were pursed together into a thin line, his face scrunched together in fear.

“So what do we do?” I asked.

“We don’t know,” Hermione frowned, “They said that they’re looking for them, and they need us to stay here where we’re safe. That’s all they said.”

“Well that’s bullshit,” I grunted angrily.

“We agree,” Sam said.

“Wait – you do?” I asked in confusion.

“Of course, why wouldn’t we?” Neville frowned.

“Because you’re mad at Harry –“

“We don’t want him to _die_ ,” Hermione snorted, “Or to be in serious trouble. We’re not lunatics.”

“Alright,” I paused, “So what do we do?”

“We rest, first, because we’re all on the edge of collapse,” Neville stated firmly, “And then we figure out something from there. We can’t just go _back_ through England – and we can’t apparated. The Order has a point that we’re not exactly _useful_.”

“There’s that, _but_ ,” I paused, “At least in London we have some resources – we can get money easier, and we can travel _much_ easier…”

“We’ll think about it,” Neville paused, “At the least, we’ll be going to Headquarters regularly in order to keep up with the news.”

“Good,” I sighed, “Anything else worth noting?”

“More Death Eaters escaped from Azkaban, but thankfully enough, so did Snape and McGonagall. Snape escaped because he’s going to be full-time undercover now with the Death Eaters; if he doesn’t, they’ll figure he’s on our side because of how he protected you. He has to make it seem like he _really_ just wanted to remain an employee at Hogwarts, and that if he didn’t try to help you, Dumbledore would fire him,” Sam paused, “So he’s gone from Hogwarts for good – or at least until Umbridge no longer is in charge.”

“Frick,” I paused, “How’d McGonagall get out?”

“Just in the chaos of the escape,” Hermione sighed, “She and some others are doing work outside of the country because if they get caught they’re… they’re screwed. But then another tier of people – like Neville’s gran – are just laying low. And then the Order members who have managed to remain unsuspicious to the Ministry and aren’t related to us at all are just keeping quiet, going about their daily lives, but still working.”

“So what about us? What does the Ministry think of us, now?” I asked softly.

“The Ministry thinks that we were captured by the Death Eaters, actually,” Hermione paused, “Another reason why we’re legitimately worried that Harry and the others are in trouble.”

“ _Fuck_ ,” I groaned.

“They aren’t actively looking for the four of us, at any rate, because they think we’re captured. Umbridge is fully in charge at Hogwarts and apparently it’s basically a fascist dictatorship from what we hear. The Ministry is a bit more lenient, since they are trying to seem like nothing is wrong, but things are definitely… bad,” Hermione continued, “It’s almost as if Voldemort is in charge without trying…”

“I hate the Ministry,” I grunted angrily, “Maybe Umbridge should have locked me away. I want to overthrow it.”

“Well, we have priorities at the moment. Namely, Voldemort,” Neville paused for a long time, “We have to make sure everyone knows he exists before we can talk about anything else.”

“Yeah,” I muttered mutinously, clenching my fists tightly. I felt some of the red hot anger of days past bubble up in my chest and rise through my throat, but I refused to let it escape.

We all went to bed again – Hermione and Sam occupying the same locations that Hermione and Harry had in the summer – and I had a lot more trouble sleeping this time, despite the fact that Neville was curled around me and Blue was nestled up against me and I could _almost_ feel like I was safe again and like it was the good days, but – but not quite. Harry was out there, and god only knew what was happening to him, and if he was okay, or just _really_ good at hiding.

_If I had just told him…_

**No.**

I refused to let myself fall into that pit again. Regardless of what happened, it would _not_ be my fault. I would not _let_ it be my fault. I had so many other things to worry about. Yes, it was a mistake that I didn’t tell him everything sooner. But his personal attacks on me that lead to my leaving were not warranted. Additionally, if he _had_ been captured, there was no telling whether or not our presence would have actually helped. We might have been captured, too.

I continued to toss and turn throughout the night, but at some point I managed to actually fall asleep. When I woke up, I found that Blue _and_ Neville were gone, and I frowned slightly into the pillow before getting up again and walking back out into the kitchen. Blue was sitting down on the floor, eating a raw steak from a paper plate. Hermione was sitting at the table, reading the _Daily Prophet_ and frowning greatly. Sam was napping on the couch, clearly not having had slept well over the night. And Neville was cooking something on the stove, humming slightly.

“Any news?” I asked groggily. Hermione shook her head wordlessly and I walked up to Neville and wrapped my arms tightly around him.

“You guys are going to have to keep the romance stuff in the bedroom,” Sam grunted irritably, apparently not asleep.

“Seriously though, this isn’t the woods, you can’t just sneak off to be alone… you need to be more discreet, okay?” Hermione agreed, “For our sanity.”

“That’s fair,” I acknowledged, and Neville grinned cheekily at me. I could see a glint of mischief in his eyes that I hadn’t seen in ages and made me smile wider than I had since Harry and I parted ways.

“Oh god dammit they’re not touching but they’re basically shagging with their _eyes_ ,” Sam groaned. I grinned even more and turned away from Neville’s gaze, blushing slightly.

“Alright, I vote we spend the day watching a _movie_. With our eyes on the _telly._ And our hands where they’re _visible_ ,” Hermione muttered in amusement.

We watched Jurassic Park, which confused and then amused Blue when she had figured out (by ramming into the telly repeatedly) that the probably-very-innacurate-I-mean-the-raptors-would-have-had-feathers-apparently dinosaurs were all trapped inside the tiny box. She was probably the most enraptured of all of us.

It was nice to feel safe again. Every day one of us would go out into the city to visit Headquarters, get the news, and bought some groceries (including plenty of meat for Blue). Sometimes we’d bring Blue up to the roof of the apartment building so she could walk around in a slightly larger space, though we made sure to keep her from going near the edge.

It was fairly monotonous, but we needed that after the horror of the past few months.

“I wonder if we’ll ever take our O.W.L.s,” Hermione commented thoughtfully as she cleaned up around the flat, picking up a pile of notes that were still on one of the counters from the summer.

“Oh my _god_ ,” Sam groaned.

“I completely forgot about those. They’d be happening around now, wouldn’t they?” I frowned in amazement.

“Yup,” Hermione sighed, “I can’t believe this.”

“Well, I mean, it’s not like we could have _stayed_ ,” Neville reminded.

“No, but… I mean… I just wanted an education,” Hermione sighed mournfully.

“Maybe when you were eleven, but Hermione, can you remember a time after the beginning of first year when you didn’t want to fight the evil in the Wizarding World _more_ than you wanted good grades?” I asked quietly.

Hermione stared at me for a long time before shaking her head.

“That’s what makes you _you_ , and not some quiet anonymous girl in a corner who didn’t get caught up in any shenanigans. You are Hermione Fucking Granger, and you’re going to change the damn world, O.W.L.s or NO O.W.L.s,” I stated firmly.

Hermione beamed widely at me.

“And who knows, maybe the Ministry will issue a public apology and we’ll be allowed to go back to school,” Neville stated, but he was smirking slightly. We all looked at each other for a long time before bursting into peals of laughter that alarmed Blue and made her look at us all reproachfully.

“Sorry Blue,” I smiled, walking over to her and scratching her behind the ears. She made a soft, sort of chirping sound like she did when she was particularly satisfied, and we all turned back to our activities quietly, finished with the conversation, when the a very loud and rushed knock issued on the door.

“Who the damned hell –?” Sam asked gruffly as Neville strode to the door and opened it slightly.

“Who is it?” he asked nervously, his voice shaking slightly.

“It is your grandmother!”

“Yeah, sure, if you’re really Gran then you know exactly how many bubble gum wrappers I have in my room from Mum –“

“One thousand four hundred and twenty seven, _can I come in now?_ ” Mrs. Longbottom screeched.

Neville hurriedly opened the door all the way and she ran in, looking flustered and disheveled, panting slightly.

“What’s wrong?” Hermione asked nervously.

“What happened?” I furthered, frowning and gripping the countertop so tightly my knuckles turned white.

“We’ve found them,” Mrs. Longbottom panted.

“Where –“ Sam began, but she cut him off.

“They’ve been captured by Bellatrix Lestrange for about two months,” Mrs. Longbottom rushed, “And finally she’s managed to reach You-Know-Who –“

Hermione let out a soft scream. I nearly broke the counter by holding onto it too hard.

“They’re trying to intercept them, but we think You-Know-Who is sending them on a mission that he can’t do, only Harry can, and –“

“The Ministry!” I shouted, my voice shaking madly.

“How do you know –“ she frowned, her face white and shocked.

“We don’t have much time!” Neville agreed, “Department of Mysteries – they’re going to force him to –“

“We think they’re using the threat of killing Ginny, Luna, and Ron to get him to comply, but we cannot be certain of that,” Mrs. Longbottom frowned.

I didn’t wait for more discussion. I reaffirmed that I had my wand in my pocket, and I dove out of the flat as fast as my legs could carry me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SORRY. AGAIN. I AM almost going back to school which means I've had a bunch of stuff to do for that an dI am SORRY. You will be HAPPY TO KNOW that I plan on finishing Book 5 before I go back, though!! And we'll just have to see where the future takes us for 6 and 7. I WILL NEVER ABANDON THIS STORY. IT IS MY BABY AND I WILL ALWAYS UPDATE. IT JUST MIGHT TAKE A WHILE.  
> Please comment!!!! COMMENTS KEEP ME GOING. SERIOUSLY. THE MORE I GET THE MORE I FEEL LIKE WRITING AND THUS THE FASTER I UPDATE.  
> Thank you :)


	79. Chapter Seventy - Eight: June 18, 1996, London

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "We fell in love but the love kept running out   
> We follow roads but the roads all end   
> We lived and learned, and learned to live without   
> Falling from the ladders we ascend   
> I've seen the eyes of the widows left behind   
> I've seen the child of a fallen man   
> And never once did our leaders apologize  
> for battles they began   
> I can't look away or pretend not to see   
> And so I say   
> I've been awake too long   
> Wish there was something that could close my eyes   
> To all that I see   
> Awake too long   
> It would be easier to fall asleep"   
> ~ Rise Against, "Awake Too Long"

Chapter 78: June 18, 1996, London

I began sprinting down the stairs in the room, holding my wand aloft without care, reaching the bottom of the steps relatively quickly. I could hear the others following me, and was extremely startled when a large bird flew over my head –

“Hermione?” I shouted in surprise as the crow flew quickly away out into the street as I opened the door to the building.

“She wanted to get ahead and check the situation,” Neville panted next to me, “She can get there faster!’

“You children should not be –“ Neville’s gran shouted behind me.

“You can’t stop us!” I shouted back, “We have to help!’

“You are too young –“

“Fuck that!” I screamed.

“We’re wasting time!” Sam grunted angrily.

“Gran, you can’t stop us from helping, so just, stop trying!” Neville groaned, and I took off sprinting towards the center of the city. I had a vague awareness of where the Ministry of Magic was. Sam apparently had a better awareness and dragged me down an alleyway and down more streets, the three of us running as fast as we could. Neville’s Gran had apparated behind us, probably to do something to stop us, but I refused to stop running. I could feel my heart pounding extremely loudly in my chest as we all stopped next to a phone booth in a back alleyway, next to graffiti of various genitalia and bubbly letters.

“What are we doing here?” I shouted loudly.

“Just wait!” Sam reassured, looking panicky as he went into the phone booth. We all followed him into the phone booth and he started pounding the buttons, his face shining with sweat, his hair plastered to his forehead. I nervously hopped around and felt like I would vomit at any second. Neville squeezed my shoulder as suddenly we were thrust down through, within the phone booth, a chute going down underground.

“Usually you need a guest badge,” Sam panted, “But I know a way around that – we don’t want them to know we’re here –“

“How the _hell_ are we supposed to go through the bloody _Ministry_ unnoticed –“ Neville groaned as the phone booth came to an abrupt halt.

“Who cares?” I shouted in response, before running off through the corridors. I could hear them following me and I didn’t wait, I kept moving as quickly as I could. It was strangely deserted; I didn’t know whether or not to take that as a good omen –

“We have to find Harry, that’s the top priority!” Sam shouted.

“Where would the Department of Mysteries be –“ Neville roared.

“Just follow me! I don’t know where Hermione went but I hope she knew where she was going!” Sam groaned.

My feet were still killing me after months of walking and I was not physically able to do this, but I forced myself to anyway. We ran to an elevator and crowded inside, panting heavily as Sam shouted at it to take us to the Department of Mysteries. It moved with a jolt, and I fell back against Neville, grunting with pain as he managed to hold me up.

“Since when was Hermione an unregistered Animagus anyway?” Sam demanded angrily.

“For like six months!” I responded tiredly.

“Where the fuck is she now, more to the point,” Neville groaned. The elevator came to a halt and we were in a dingy, dark corridor; it was lined with shining obsidian rock, and small lights flickered from candles on the wall. I immediately took off, my hair wildly flying behind me as I ran as fast as I could through the corridor towards the end of it, the others following closely behind me.

I opened the door and rushed in. We were now in a large, circular room, with dozens of doors all around us, and everything was still black and shimmering, with small blue flames all along the walls in candles, their light reflecting off of the marble floor elegantly.

“Do you know where to go, Sam? Did your Aunt work here?” Neville whispered.

“I have no bloody clue,” Sam amended, “It’s not like I came to work with her or anything –“

“We’re looking for the hall of prophecy,” I swallowed, “I guess we can just keep trying doors and going in –“

“That’s why I flew ahead.”

We all turned in shock to see Hermione exiting a door, looking haggard, her hair all over her face, running towards us urgently.

“I’ve been here once – when I was being told about the magical world – the woman who usually does it, usually initiates muggleborns, she was busy, and she needed to go to the Department of Mysteries for something for work, and so I was in this atrium – I remembered that you never knew what door was which – “

“So waaa- _ahhh!”_ I shouted as the room started spinning around us, the walls going around in a circle and the doors following them. Luckily the floor didn’t move either, or else I would have fallen onto it. Neville was not as certain and was holding tightly to my arm.

“I marked all the doors I’ve been too – see those crosses?” Hermione amended when the doors had stopped moving. I did.

“Which is the right one, then?” I asked weakly.

“That one,” Hermione pointed to the door she had come from – it was between two X’s, thankfully, and thus easily spotted – “Come on.”

We all ran toward the door, our wands still out, opening it and going through. There were rows and rows of shelves with light, and crystal balls everywhere up to a ceiling so high that a sauropod could fit, and clocks everywhere, ticking and filling up the hall with their relentless sound, making my ears ring with it.

“What are we even looking for?” Sam whispered cynically, “If Harry isn’t even here yet –“

“We go to the Prophecy and we guard it,” I swallowed nervously.

“Whatever we do,” Hermione paused, “No one touch it. Touching a prophecy not about yourself does terrible things to the mind –“

“Got it,” Neville nodded, now trudging forward, his wand held aloft with light to show the way, as the only source of it were the crystal balls, and they were only shining a dim blue light along the room, and it was straining my eyes something fierce.

There was a tank there – a tank filled with an egg, that was hatching, and a bird was climbing out of it, but it seemed to be aging in the tank, and I was distracted, but Neville dragged me along –

There was an entire row of time turners just waiting there, and I was _so_ tempted to just grab one, but I resisted –

There was another door, and we went through it – there weren’t crystal balls now, but orbs, _thousands of them now_ , so many that it was overwhelming –

“How in the bloody hell,” Sam snapped, “Are we supposed to find Harry’s prophecy?”

Neville groaned and buried his face in his hands. This room was colder than the room before it. I could feel my hair sticking up on all ends on my arms.

“Let’s read the row names and see if there’s a pattern,” Hermione whispered in a hushed voice. I didn’t want anyone to overhear us, if they were here –

I looked at the rows of orbs and read the names. They didn’t seem to be organized in any sort of alphabetical manner.

“Well crap,” Neville groaned.

“There’s no way we’re finding his prophecy in this mess!” Sam hissed.

“Looking would take too much time! We should just – just wait by the door –“ Hermione whispered.

“Look, we have to try and find it,” I paused, “I’ll start looking. Someone stay by the door, but, one of us should be looking, and one of us should be by the door –“

“I reckon, if _anything_ , they’re chronological,” Neville paused, “So start at the end and work back.”

“Alright,” I nodded nervously, shaking slightly with terror as I wandered through the room. I could hear someone following me – of course it was Neville – and he nodded at me, his eyes filled with equal apprehension as was living in my heart. I wandered towards the end – there were rows going out to the hundreds – this would take _forever_ –

“Mags,” Neville whispered softly. I turned to face him, my heart pounding loudly in my chest.

“Mags, I don’t know if we’re going to find it,” his voice broke slightly. He was shaking madly. I walked to him and held him tightly in my arms, resting my head on his chest and breathing slowly, trying to calm my own heartbeat.

“We have to look,” I swallowed slightly, “That prophecy was about you at one point, and –“

“Wait!” Neville said eagerly. He was looking at the shelves, “ _These ones have dates –_ “

“Oh thank god –“

“The ones at the beginning must be, like, ancient ones – ones we don’t even know –“

“What date is this?”

We were on row number 159 – one of the last ones.

“Er, just about three years ago –“

“Dammit,” I groaned.

“Come on, let’s go back,” Neville nodded, “Any idea when it was made?”

“Before you both were born? So like, sixteen years ago or something?”

“Great…”

We crept back, reading the dates on each one – when we reached the ones made sixteen years ago (row 99) we started going down it slowly, reading the names on each one, each of us taking a different row (I took row 98); we were pressed for time, though, and I worried that we would miss the important one –

“I’m starting row 97!” Neville called after a while.

“Okay!” I hissed, examining each one carefully.

More time passed; no sound was made in the corridor.

“Mags!” Neville hissed urgently, “Mags, _I found it_ –“

I ran immediately to him, my heart pounding in my throat. There was a small blue orb in front of him in a dusty glass ball. There was a date from sixteen years ago, as well as the inscription,

_S. P. T. to A. P. W. B. D._

_Dark Lord_

_And (?) Harry Potter_

I breathed a sigh of relief and hugged Neville around the middle. Neville was, however, still staring at the label. The label was on top of an old one. I reached up to the label and gently peeled it off – I was surprised they had used such a non-magical method for this – or maybe it was a magical method. Automatic stickers. What have you.

Underneath the new label was the old – much more faded, much more difficult to work out, much more grungy. And yet, I could make out,

_S. P. T. to A. P. W. B. D._

_Dark Lord_

_And (?) Harry Potter or Neville Longbottom_

Neville’s eyes were filled with an emotion that I wasn’t sure I could comprehend.

“It was almost me,” he whispered softly.

“But it’s _not_ you –“

“They’re not even sure it’s _Harry_ –“

“Well, they’re sure it _not you_ , Nev –“

“What would my life have been like…”

“You’re never going to know,” I insisted, “And that’s okay. It really is.”

Neville looked at me, still with that unfathomable emotion, and nodded.

“All you know,” I paused, “Is what your life is like _now_ ,” I swallowed slightly, “All you know is what happened because _he didn’t pick you_.”

Neville nodded again and pulled me in for a tighter hug, his arms wrapped tightly around me, his head rested on top of mine.

“I’m glad I have you, at least,” Neville whispered.

“And you always will,” I reassured quietly. We stood there like that for a while, before turning and blocking the prophecy from view. I quietly put the old label on top of it before doing so, deciding that that was an event in the past that didn’t need to be thought about any longer.

“Go get the others,” Neville urged.

“But –“

“We should be guarding here, not at the door, and we shouldn’t be split up. I’ll be fine.”

I nodded and kissed him, running quickly through the corridors and reaching the other two. Sam and Hermione looked nervous – even petrified – but they followed me without me even having to say anything. We ran back to row 97 and all stood their quietly, waiting for the event that we weren’t sure would come.

“Where are Ministry people today,” Neville whispered softly.

“No idea, and that’s worrisome,” Hermione muttered.

“Where’s the _Order_ , more like,” I grunted angrily.

“Well, they probably are trying to stop the Death Eaters from even getting here at all – trying to rescue Harry and the others – so it’s a good thing they’re not here yet, at least…” Sam reassured.

“This is honestly nerve-wracking,” I muttered nervously, my hands balled up into tight fists.

“Well, at least, we’re here, and we’re ready,” Hermione whispered, her voice shaking on every word.

“Are you quite sure, Miss Granger?”

I looked up, my face paling, all the blood draining from it, to see a crowd of Death eaters walking towards us. They outnumbered us – _significantly_ – probably something like three to one. Malfoy was the leader, you could only tell because of his long blonde hair; he was holding Harry by the scruff of his robes, and behind him, Ginny Luna and Ron were all being forced along by other Death Eaters. Harry looked at us all with a horrified facial expression – any color he had had in his face was now also gone.

“Harry,” I whispered hoarsely, my voice barely working.

“Yes,” Malfoy chuckled darkly, “Yes, little family reunion here, then? Glad to be of service –“

I hissed loudly and Harry flinched as Malfoy jerked him forward slightly more.

“We do not have time for this. Get out of the way, or I _will_ make you,” Malfoy sneered.

“Oh let _me_ kill her, Lucius,” a female voice cackled in the back. I looked in fear as she moved to the front – it was unmistakably Bellatrix Lestrange.

“I would _love_ to just _completely destroy_ the last vestige of happiness for little Longbottom,” she cackled. Neville, next to me, seized up completely – I knew he was filled with probably the most amount of terror he had ever experienced in his life.

“We have traveled a long distance, Bellatrix, and we have more important things to worry about,” Malfoy scolded, “And there are _consequences_ to killing these children –“

Lestrange cackled in response, as though she fundamentally did not agree. I looked over at Ginny desperately – did she and the others still have their wands? Ginny looked at me and didn’t move her head at all – her eyes just opened wider, her clearly trying to convey meaning and message to me with their expression – _she had her wand_ –

Why would they leave them with their wands?

I was thinking fast. Perhaps, simply, they underestimated us. After all, we were teenagers; not necessarily the sort of people they would consider a threat – and so they figured they could just use the threat of their own magic –

Well I had to try something. _I_ at least had my wand –

“Move aside, and let your brother get the prophecy,” Malfoy ordered again.

I looked at Harry in worry, but it was important that I at least pretend I was complacent for my plan. I couldn’t make a good facial expression without Malfoy noticing, but I gave Harry an earnest expression, hoping that the blowup had past enough that this would work.

 _Trust me_.

Harry looked back at me, hopefully with understanding; I stepped aside, trying to appear dejected. The others followed; whether or not they knew what I was doing, they knew when we were outnumbered. Malfoy smiled at my easy compliance; a self-satisfied smile reminiscent of his horrible son.

“Good, good. Glad to see you are much more reasonable than your parents,” Malfoy simpered.

I glared slightly, but said nothing, as Malfoy jerked Harry forward. Harry reached up and, gritting his teeth, grabbed the Prophecy. He then turned around to look at all of us, his face painted with determination.

“Now, boy, just hand that to me, and you and all of your little friends can go free –“

“I think I have a right to know what this is all about. It has my name on it, doesn’t it?” Harry responded calmly, “I think I should get to listen to it, shouldn’t I?”

“The Dark Lord has no cares for what you have a right for or no –“

“Well it would be really a shame, wouldn’t it, if I didn’t hand it over, and wands stated being used, I mean it would be _guaranteed_ to get shattered, wouldn’t it –“

“You wouldn’t _dare_ –“

“You don’t know a lot about what I would and would not dare to do, Malfoy,” Harry snapped, “Which is surprising, given how much time we’ve now spent together.

“We have a deal, and I intend for you to honor it, whether or not you are complacent –“

I looked at Harry and silently mimed him dropping it, hiding behind Malfoy, slightly, so no one else could perceive me. Harry gave the slightest of nods while saying, “Well, Malfoy, now we’re actually here, and I don’t know, perhaps I’m not convinced that you’ll hold up your end of the bargain –“

“Do not _test me, boy_ –“ Malfoy continued

“This is ridiculous!” Lestrange screeched, holding up her wand, “Stupe –“

“No!” Malfoy roared, deflecting the spell. In the chaos, I shot my own spell at the orb – it was knocked from Harry’s hand, and it fell swiftly to the ground.

“ _Noooo!”_ Malfoy shouted as the orb fell to the ground and shattered.

The silvery figure of Sybil Trelawney, the Divination teacher, rose from the orb – but I wasn’t paying attention. In the chaos the others had managed to break free and we all sprinted down the aisles, the eight of us running away from the Death Eaters as fast as we could, my hear pounding loudly in my throat.

“ _GET THEM!”_ Malfoy roared.

“ _RUN!_ ” Harry urged.

Ginny cast a spell behind us at them, shouting, “ _REDUCTO!_ ” Two of the shelves collapsed behind us on top of her. Getting the idea, I followed suit, as did the others; the seven of us forced several of the shelves to fall down and smash into smithereens; we kept running through the aisles and out through the door on the other side, panting with the effort.

“Where do we go now?” Ron shouted nervously.

“They’re still behind us – run!” Sam urged. We kept moving, and I managed to find Neville and grasp his hand tightly in my own, unwilling to let go, not when a crowd of murderous Death Eaters were following us so closely and carefully –

“Mags, I’m really sorry about what I said, I was just trying to hurt you, I didn’t mean it –“ Harry shouted at a _very inappropriate point in our lives to be doing this sort of thing_ –

“It’s okay, I understand, I shouldn’t have kept all that from you, it was wrong of me!” I responded.

“Still –“

“THIS IS NOT THE TIME!” Hermione shrieked.

I kept sprinting, dragging Neville along, who only now seemed to be recovering from the trauma of having Lestrange threaten me in front of him.

We left into the round room with all the doors; Hermione spun on her heels and shouted, “ _Colloportus!_ ” at the door. It sealed itself, squelching loudly, as the doors around us began spinning around madly, and I was dizzy from the sight, and my heart was pounding in my ears, and my thoughts were growing disjointed and panicked and more and more chaotic by the second.

“Come on, we have to keep moving!” Sam urged. We ran through another door, and suddenly we were in a large atrium, no, more like a stadium – there were seats all over leading down into a depressed center of the circle, and there was an arch in the center, with a sort of veil surrounding it.

“What is that?” Luna breathed.

“There are – there are voices coming from it,” Harry muttered.

“Voices?” Hermione asked skeptically, her voice shaking.

“This isn’t the exit – we should leave, come back, keep moving!” Ron urged.

The voices, however, were real, and they were loud, and they were shouting in my ears, and they were deafening. I shouted in surprise in response and crumpled to the ground, clutching my hands over my ears.

“Mags –“

“What’s happening –“

“Maggie what is wrong –“

“The voices are _shouting_ ,” I whispered quietly. And they were. I couldn’t drown it out. They were yelling things at me –

_Tell my sister I love her –_

_I hope that things worked out for him -_

_Don’t let go, whatever you do –_

_Who is she? Who is this person in her life, now?_

_Am I alone in here?_

_Tell Harry we love him_

The last one made me draw in a shaking breath and look up. I didn’t know who had said that, but whoever it was, they said it loud and clear to me. I looked over at Harry with wide, terrorized eyes.

“What is it?” he asked nervously, shifting in his seat.

“I don’t know who the voices are, but they’re loud for me,” I whispered.

“We don’t have _time_ for this!” Hermione shrieked, her voice filled with terror.

“She’s right, we have to go –“ Neville whispered hoarsely.

“Someone told me to tell you they love you,” I whispered directly to Harry, looking up at him desperately, “I’m not sure who.”

“Man or women?” Harry asked nervously, “And, I guess, other…”

“Both,” I swallowed, “It was two people –“

“What is that veil?” Sam asked, looking over at it nervously, “I hear the voices too – they’re shouting at me as well –“

“They’re whispers for me,” Luna commented in confusion.

“They’re also whispers for me,” Harry confirmed, “I didn’t – I didn’t hear the message for me –“

“Harry, I think…” Sam’s face was so white he looked like a ghost, “Harry…”

“What?”

“I don’t – I think that’s the –“

The door was beginning to shake and rattle. They were trying to get in. We were trapped in this section of the Department. The atrium led off into other corridors, and they seemed to be our only means of escape now.

“Guys _come on_ ,” Hermione urged, her voice still shaking, “Let’s _go_ –“

“But –“

“NOW!” Hermione roared, and we ran around the circumference of the Atrium, moving towards the corridors, which seemed to lead into a sort of, well, Labyrinth, all the way through the rest of what seemed to be the entire bloody building.

I sprinted as fast as I could down a passageway, but I could hear in the distance the sound of the Death Eaters –

“Let’s just go back to the Dark Lord –“

“He will be _furious_ if we don’t at _least bring Potter to him!_ Kill any of the others –“

“Especially _Johnson_ –“

“No, just kill them if you need to, we have to keep our return a _secret_ , and too many deaths will –“

“Just find Potter!”

I whimpered in horror and grabbed a hold of Harry’s arm.

“I forgive you, really,” Harry insisted.

“Well I forgive you –“

“Guys just run,” Neville hissed.

“Let’s split up,” Sam urged, “Look, there are _many more_ of them than there are us; we have to try and draw them out into the open, one on one –“

“He’s right,” Ginny agreed, “Let’s go –“

I ran down a corridor by myself, looping back around to the front. If they wanted to kill me, then they could kill me, rather than any of my friends. I made my way there and looked around wildly for the nearest Death Eater, overwhelmed with my surroundings and wondering _where the fuck all the Ministry employees were_.

I ran through the corridor and I saw a gaggle of Death Eaters – well, more like two of them. I grinned at them, taunting them, and sprinted down another corridor. I could hear them follow me, and I made multiple twisting, mad turns, trying to get away from them, my heart pounding in my ears now.

“ _REDUCTO!_ ”I shouted behind me, and the walls crumpled in their path. One of them shouted out in pain; the other had managed to make it out before it fully crumpled. I kept running, until I reached a pathway surrounded by many other pathways, standing in the center of it, turning to face the Death Eater. He was masked, and large, and imposing, and I faced him bravely, raising my wand in front of me.

“Where are all the Ministry employees today, anyway?” I asked him, hoping to stall him with conversation.

“We could not risk anyone foiling the Dark Lord’s plans – “ his voice was deep and gravely and terrifyingly familiar.

“So you what? Told everyone to have a sick day?”

“Malfoy _graciously_ paid for their days off – only the night shift security personnel were here, anyway – “

“Why couldn’t Voldemort come and get the Prophecy himself, if it was night time?” I demanded angrily. I had forgotten that it had been late afternoon when we left. It must now have been very late in the night – maybe even the next day…

“You _dare_ to speak the Dark Lord’s name?” the Death Eater shouted.

“Yes!” I screamed back, “ _Stupefy!_ ”

We began fighting each other then, curses being thrown back and forth vigorously, me sweating buckets and keeping light on my feet, dancing around him, using what Shae had taught me to be like a bird flying about his head, my eyes never leaving his mask as I shot and cursed him, hoping to _god_ that the others were safe in this maze, wherever they were. I was just so overwhelmed with everything I could feel my vision going red, which wasn’t helpful to _anyone_ at this point.

“Just give up, little girl!”

“Never!” I screamed.

I shot curse after curse in front of me, angrily roaring the words as the masked death eater in front of me blocked every shot. I was grunting with the effort and I knew I wouldn’t be able to keep it up for much longer. The death eater could sense my exhaustion and began to capitalize on it, attacking me more vigorously, his spells coming out faster than I could block them. I was hit with one in my shoulder and I could feel it dislocate; I groaned in pain and fell to the ground, tears leaking from my eyes.

“Maggie!” Neville shouted in the distance. I looked up in shock and horror as Neville ran towards me. The death eater was confused by this, and did not take the opportunity to finish me off. I grabbed my wand and waved it, stunning the death eater before getting up and running back to Neville.

“Neville don’t do that you could have –“ I screamed.

“Then _you_ don’t look like you’re about to die!” he roared in equal horror. He held onto my arms and kissed me in a rushed, desperate manner before we ran through the corridors together, panting, sweat pouring from our bodies from the exertion. I was so exhausted I felt like this actually might be the end. I wondered, idly, if I should come to terms with that.

Two Death Eaters ambushed us; one was clearly Lucius Malfoy, the other a large, imposing man standing in front of us. I did not recognize him. We began fighting in earnest, but they were much too quick and powerful. I could feel my heart in my throat as I kept thinking of curses and kept putting up shields and hoping to god that maybe we could live just one more day, just one more day to be alive.

“ _Stu –“_ the large man began, but I was having none of it.

“ _Silencio!_ ” I shouted angrily.

“Nice charm work, Mags!” Neville praised, still fighting Malfoy. I blushed proudly, still fighting the large man.

“You two will not be able to fight us forever!” Malfoy roared.

“Just watch us!” I shouted back, but I recognized the validity of his words.

I was so tired.

How long had I been awake, now? How long had I been running, now? How long could I keep going, now?

I’d been awake _much_ too long.

I just needed to sleep.

If only I could feel safe enough to close my eyes, one day.

And I knew that Malfoy was wearing us down. I could see Neville look as tired as I did, and his face was twisted into concentration, and sweat was shining on his forehead, and I was so exhausted I could feel my muscles beginning to give as I danced around them, and the large man still had potent spells despite being silenced, and everything was overwhelming and slipping and perhaps it was time to die –

**_CRACK!_ ** _I_

I looked over in shock as my dad apparated, along with many other Order members, into the Department of Mysteries Chamber. He immediately ran to me and started cursing Malfoy, shouting angrily at him.

“ _STAY! AWAY! FROM! MY! CHILDREN!”_ Dad roared, his wandwork so rapid and precise that I couldn’t keep up with it. I helped him, as did Neville, and the three of us against the two of them actually had a chance, though the curses flying through the air were hot and singing, and I could feel a stunner graze my leg, and I could barely think straight anymore, and I knew I was on the verge of shifting –

“YOU TWO! GO!” Dad shouted at us. Neville didn’t need more persuasion; he grabbed my arm and dragged me away form the duel, and the two of us ran as fast as we could –

Leaving us right out in the open –

We weren’t ready for any curses –

There was no time to defend ourselves –

I wasn’t even cognizant of what was happening, I just kept running and I saw a flash of purple and suddenly Neville wasn’t there, running alongside me; he had collapsed, and I registered this and screamed at the top of my lungs –

“NEVILLE!” I wailed, turning around on my heels and falling to the ground beside him. My dad had stunned the large imposing man who had shot the purple curse and Malfoy had apparated away with a crack; I could feel tears leak into my eyes and fill them so much that I couldn’t see, but I could tell he wasn’t moving, he was unconscious –

“Oh god, Neville, Neville, Neville _no_ – “ I wailed louder, grasping at his shirt through my tears and fumbling, trying to figure out how to find a pulse – how did I not know how to do that – how was I supposed to figure out if he was alive – I fumbled for his wrist, but felt nothing – was I doing it right – or was he just gone – was he gone – was he gone – was he gone – he was still warm, but he would be, wouldn’t he, it wasn’t like you just became ice – _where was his pulse_ – his pulse could not be gone yet – not yet – not yet – no – no – no – no –

“NO!” I screamed louder, giving up my quest, and I couldn’t think straight, and everything was a blur, and suddenly I wasn’t even in my own body anymore – I was someone else, I had to be someone else, because to be myself in this moment, was to be in pain, was to be screaming, was to be _dying from the inside out, because Neville was gone_ –

My dad was picking me up off the ground and I was screaming, begging to be allowed to be with his body – was it his body – I didn’t even know – I was screaming and thrashing and I couldn’t see out of my eyes and everything was on fire, everything, even me – was I on fire – was it in my head – I was on fire and the world was on fire and my head was on fire and the my dad was on fire and Neville was on fire and not a single thing any more was not lit up with flame because that was how the world felt to me in that moment as I thrashed about in my father’s arms.

Dad was putting me in a corner of the Department, behind rubble, where no one could see, and he was telling me to stay there, but that was pointless because I couldn’t move, I couldn’t even think, I was blind, I was screaming, I was still on fire – no, no, no, no, now I _was_ fire – the living embodiment – I was a burning, roaring, forest fire, destroying everything in my path – or at least I would, if left unchecked – and now I had been left unchecked – it was time to explode – I was unable to think, there were no thoughts in my brain, only one, that he was gone –

What had that spell been –

What curses were purple –

I screamed into my hands and dug them into my hair, curling up into a ball and rocking heavily back and forth – what was happening – where was Neville – I could hear shouts everywhere, there were so many people, so many people fighting and dying and for what? For what? Why was this happening? Why did anything matter now that he was gone? What was I supposed to do without him?

Where was Neville?

Where was Neville?

Where was Neville?

I screamed louder; I couldn’t actually feel my throat anymore. All I could think was that I hadn’t had enough time with him – that now he was gone, I was nothing – I was _nothing_ \- I could not continue like this – I was my own person, but without him I was a ghost – he was my entire future, from looking for _Draco prima_ , to becoming professors together, to helping stop Voldemort, to having kids together, to growing old together, to living out the rest of our lives at each other’s sides and making sure, making sure, making sure neither one of us would ever be alone again –

_You promised_

_You promised I’d never be alone again_

_Neville you promised_

_Why did you lie_

_Why are you gone_

_Why have you been taken away from me_

_Come back_

_Come back please_

_Come back to me_

_Come back_

_Come back_

_Come back_

My ears were ringing now from all the curses and explosions and the sound of my scream and I officially had no senses whatsoever because I couldn’t feel anymore and I guess I could still taste and smell but I clearly wasn’t paying attention to that and all I could think all I could feel was that _he was gone_ and I didn’t know what to do or who to be or how to cope and I couldn’t cope not really I couldn’t do anything any of this without him supporting me –

I was kelp, and he was my rock, and now I was floating away –

“COME KILL ME!” I screamed, though I didn’t even know if I actually screamed it or not, all I knew was that I was thinking those words hard, and that my mouth was open, and sound was probably coming out of it –

I was swept up with the current, and the current was tearing me apart, and I was meant to be anchored to a rock, not floating aimlessly in the turbulent seas –

“COME KILL ME! I’M SITTING RIGHT HERE! JUST GET RID OF ME!” I roared, or at least, I’m pretty sure I did – It was the only thought in my brain anymore –

_Send me to him, please_

_Why did you take him away_

_Why is he gone_

_Where is he_

_Give him back_

_Give him back_

_Give him back_

Tears overflowed from my eyes again and I was sobbing, I was curled up on the floor, I was in a ball, I was writhing and twitching and I was in so much pain I couldn’t actually think, I was gone, I was gone, I was –

I opened my eyes and I looked around. I was able to see again. I was still in the Department. I was still in my body. I was not dead.

But I _was_ a dragon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HEY GUYS 
> 
> I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK ME SO LONG 
> 
> GRAD SCHOOL HAPPENED AS WELL AS A SLEW OF OTHER SHITE I HAD TO DEAL WITH 
> 
> I REITERATE THAT I WILL NEVER ABANDON THIS STORY! IT JUST MIGHT TAKE ME A WHILE TO COME BACK TO IT! 
> 
> That said, thank you all for your lovely comments, as they DO get me to write more!!! 
> 
> So please comment!


	80. Chapter Seventy - Nine: June 18 - 19, 1996, London

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Frail, the skin is dry and pale, the pain will never fail   
> And so we go back to the remedy   
> Clip the wings that get you high, just leave them where they lie   
> And tell yourself, 'You'll be the death of me' 
> 
> I don't need a friend, I need to mend so far away   
> So come sit by the fire and play a while, but you can't stay too long   
> It aches in every bone, I'll die alone, but not for pleasure   
> I see my heart explode, it's been eroded by the weather here   
> If you want me hold me back"   
> ~ Seether, "Remedy"

Chapter 79: June 18 – 19, 1996, London

I was an animal, and I thought like one.

_Revenge. Revenge. Revenge._

I flew into the air and I dove through the chamber, not even caring if anyone saw me, twisting and turning and only having one thought in my head.

There was no way in hell that that man was going to live a second longer.

I couldn’t see his body; I didn’t know what Dad had done with it, but I zoomed down a corridor and kept going, crouching near the walls and keeping to them as I followed the shouts and the sounds of battles. I managed to wander through to another room, with strange objects everywhere, but I wasn’t going to stop, not now, not for any reason. My body, so dinosaurian, so reptilian, was shaking all over; I couldn’t control it; I was a slave to my emotions. My emo _tion_.

_Revenge. Revenge. Revenge. Revenge._

I started sprinting through the room and I could hear Dad fighting in the distance. I headed towards the sound and flew as fast as I could, knocking over shelves and other objects and destroying half of the room, but I had no time to worry about that. I had to get the man. I had to kill him. I had to make sure he did not breathe again. How dare the man breathe when _he_ could not?

I found Dad; he was not fighting the man, but Malfoy. I flew around them and, not one to let a Malfoy get away with anything, grabbed ahold of him with my claws. Dad started shouting – oh right, he didn’t know I was a dragon – and I dragged Malfoy up into the air as high I as I could, and Malfoy was thrashing in my claws, and I was growling loudly to myself, and I went as high as I could go, and then I dropped him, flying away through the corridors, not waiting to see what happened to Malfoy Senior.

I kept flying and following the sounds of the southings and the fighting and the spells and eventually I found the man again. He was fighting Mum, and Harry. Harry saw me and shouted in protest but I wasn’t going to wait. The man turned and faced me in shock, his mouth opening in terror as I dove at him.

_Do what Blue does. She knows best._

I grabbed onto the man’s face with my claws; all four of them clutched his head, clawing at it rapidly and furiously. I could feel the skin tear away and blood come from it. But I wasn’t even _close_ to finished. I opened my maw and roared as loud as I could, before reaching down and, screaming and roaring and filled with such a bloodlust that I could never probably think straight again, bit his face.

The man was screaming; Harry was shouting, and Mum didn’t know what to do, as Harry was addressing me as Maggie, but I could barely register it, I was blind to my world, because the world no longer had him; I had one goal, and then I could join him –

I moved my legs down to his large torso and began clawing at it, and I could feel skin and sinew tear beneath me, and I knew I could have killed him instantly, but I wanted him to _hurt –_

“MAGGIE!” Harry screamed. It was the first one I truly registered. I didn’t look at him; but I did know that it was time to end it. I grabbed ahold of the man’s neck and, before anyone could do anything, twisted it violently. It spun all the way around and I leapt off of his body, watching as he lay there, lifeless, blood pouring from him, and I could start to feel control return to my body –

And with that control came despair –

The man was dead, but _he_ was still gone –

Killing him, had not actually managed to bring him back –

What a cruel twist of fate this was.

I screamed, and as a dragon, that was a loud and unbearable sound. It echoed off the walls. It reverberated everywhere and somehow became louder as it did so. Mum and Harry collapsed to the ground, clutching their ears, and even though I was still a dragon and still screaming at the top of my lungs I could see trickles of blood pouring from them, even at this distance. I followed them in falling to the ground, but not clutching my ear holes; I was a heap on the ground, unable to transfer back, my body seizing up with psychological pain – I was shutting down – I had to go, I had to join him, wherever he was – I couldn’t keep living, _it was impossible now_ –

“Maggie what is _happening?”_ Harry screamed in terror after he had regained his composure, but I was on the verge of death, I was on the cliff, and I was going to fall, and no one was around to catch me this time – and if they did I would just fall again, because there was no point, no point to any of it, not without him – what sort of point would there be without him with me –

“How is that Maggie?!” Mum shouted, looking horrified.

“She’s a fucking unregistered animagus, Aunt Melinda, she’s only told a few people –“

“ _WHAT-_ “

“That’s not important, she’s clearly freaking out!”

“Where’s Nathaniel –“

“I saw him back there –“

I was roaring now again, I could feel fire come from my body and it was hot and searing on my neck, and I didn’t care, I wanted it to burn me, I wanted to burn and die and be gone and be with him again and be happy –

“Maggie shift back! Shift back!” Harry urged, “We need to know what’s happening, Maggie, shift back –“

I continued to roar and breathe fire, but my shock was beginning to wear off, and my terror was giving way to complete despair, because without him I was lost, without him I was drifting away, without him I was unanchored, unsupported, unfastened, I was still me, but I was not going to last, not much longer – I was drifting away on the current and I needed something to root to, but that something was now gone –

“Maggie please! Oh my god, Maggie, _please_ –“

I roared again and I actually felt Harry grab onto my muzzle and hold it shut. My eyes, which had been spinning around in fear and terror, locked onto Harry; I huffed madly and tried to open my maw to roar, but Harry was having none of it, staring back at me intently as I twitched with pain and terror.

“Maggie, please, _change back_ ,” Harry begged, tears falling rapidly from his eyes. My body was still seizing up, but I was losing all my energy now.

I followed his request. I shifted into my human form and I screamed at the top of my lungs. I was crouched on my knees, my arms at my sides, and I looked up to the sky and just screamed so loudly I could hear glass shatter nearby and I could feel it reverberate and echo and it was everywhere, the Department _was_ my screams, and I couldn’t think straight still, what was thinking, what was being, what did any of it, any of it at all, even matter, certainly not to me, not anymore –

“Harry – get – get Nathaniel!” Mum sputtered – “Find out what’s happening!”

I could hear him run away; Mum grabbed me by the shoulder but I had too many tears in my eyes to see anymore.

“Maggie _what happened?_ ” Mum urged, and I could feel the desperation in her voice, but I didn’t have the ability to respond to it –

I just kept screaming –

Screaming –

I had to keep screaming –

_Because he was gone_

_He had been taken away from me_

_And I was alone_

I wasn’t exactly sure how to stop screaming and eventually the lack of actual oxygen going to my brain caught up with me. I fell over on the ground, silent, and passed out. As everything blacked out, I urgently hoped that I would die.

For some reason, if god existed, he really didn’t like complying with my _frequent, urgent_ requests for death. I did, eventually, wake up, looking up at Dad, who was waving his wand over me frantically, his face paler than I had ever seen it, probably with fear.

“Oh thank god,” he whispered. I didn’t have the energy to resume screaming.

“Maggie,” he stated firmly before I could even rustle the energy to start again, placing his hands firmly on my shoulders, “Maggie, _listen to me –_ “

I felt tears fall out of my eyes and I shook madly in my spot. I wanted to die, and he wasn’t letting me do it.

“He’s gone,” I whispered softly.

“Maggie –“

“He’s gone, and I can’t handle this without him, so please, kill me,” I whispered softly. My dad looked horrified and heartbroken, his mouth open with the shock of the force of my words.

“I know you’re going to say that I should move on, and I should have my own life, and that it’s not healthy to have my life be tied into another person’s,” I managed to whisper, my voice shaking madly on every word, “But I can’t. Maybe if we were normal people with normal lives living in a normal world – but we’re not. I’ve had terrible things happen to me. I’ve been traumatized. And I honestly cannot think of a future where I can handle increased trauma – because this war _will_ just make it worse – and I don’t have him to steady myself on. So please,” I choked out, tears coming to my eyes again, “Please, just, let me end it.”

“Maggie –“ my dad began, but I cut him off again.

“And the pain of him being gone is eating me from the inside and honestly I don’t see it going away,” I finished, as an afterthought, though now it was like every cell in my body was dying, I was not alive anymore, every bit of me was exploding in apoptosis and I was _going to die anyway_ , I just wanted the pain to end –

“Maggie, _he’s not dead_ ,” my dad managed to interject before I could continue imploring him to kill me.

I looked at my dad in complete and utter shock, my entire body freezing up. I wasn’t able to say a word.

“He’s not dead,” Dad reiterated, swallowing heavily and looking at me intensely, “He got hit with this incantation at a large distance and the caster had a silencing charm – so it was nonverbal – so it was weaker. He has a lot of internal damage but I apparated him to St. Mungo’s and he’s being looked after as we speak –“

“The Ministry,” I managed to say hoarsely.

“They’re currently in chaos over what’s happening and there’s no way someone’s going to arrest him in the hospital,” Dad reassured, “ _He is alive_.”

I managed to breathe in sharply – the air burned in my lungs with the force of it – and I let out a wail of emotion, falling forward and burying my face into my dad’s chest.

“It’s okay,” he reassured calmly, “It’s okay, Maggie, he’s alive, and he’s somewhere safe, _it’s okay_ –“

I was now sobbing heavily, as I didn’t really know how to actually deal with anything that just happened – I was overwhelmed – I couldn’t think straight anymore – what was – what –

“He’s alive,” Dad repeated, “ _He’s alive_ ,”

“Oh,” I managed to sob, and I couldn’t manage much more than that in terms of words; I simply blubbered, weak with terror and emotion as I shook in my dad’s arms.

“Maggie, he’s alive, it’s okay, you’re going to be okay, I promise,” Dad reassured softly. I shook madly, but I nodded, and now I was coming down off of the cliff I had been falling from – he had caught me on the way down with that simple phrase – and he wouldn’t lie to me, either – Dad didn’t believe in lying –

“I was dying –“ I gasped out between sobs, sniffling loudly, every word coming in and exiting rapidly through my mouth as I said it –

“I know, but you’re going to be fine,” Dad reassured, “I _know_ what you felt, but I promise, it’s okay now –“

“I couldn’t find his pulse –“

“The internal damage _was_ bad enough that his pulse was weak, I’m not going to lie to you, but the Healers were confident they could fix him –“

“What if he dies in the hospital?!” I shrieked, panic entering my soul again.

“No, no, trust me, I’ve seen much worse, I’ve seen people come back from much worse, trust me, he’ll be fine –“

“I’ll die if –“

“I _know_ , Maggie, I promise, _he’s going to live_ ,” Dad urged.

The fight was still going on loudly around us. I could hear the curses and the spells crack in the air, and the shouts of the people fighting. I sniffled and heaved and could feel my entire body shake madly with the force of my rapid, overwhelming emotions.

“Maggie, I have to go out there again,” Dad whispered, “I’m really sorry –“

“No,” I whispered, pulling back and wiping off my eyes, “I should help – I need to help – let me help –“

“You aren’t thinking straight, your emotions are all over the place,” Dad countered, “You shouldn’t be fighting.”

“I can’t go to him and not feel guilty about leaving everyone here behind, and I can’t stay here and hide either; I need to help and feel useful,” I managed to choke out, my voice hoarse from all the screaming, “Please.”

Dad nodded reluctantly and helped me up from the ground, and we ran out from behind our hiding spot and into the fray. There were dozens of witches and wizards fighting – Ministry workers, Order Members, Death Eaters – and it was chaotic and hot and filled with light and I was instantly overwhelmed, but I kept my cool with one single, solitary thought:

 _Neville is alive_.

I pulled out my wand and shot a curse at a Death Eater fighting with Luna. The Death Eater fell and Luna shot me a grateful expression as we ran together through the fray, sending spells out all around us and running to help Mum and Harry, currently dueling with Bellatrix Lestrange.

I hated that woman so much that seeing her made my vision temporarily go red. I immediately sent a stunner at her, which she blocked while cackling, I danced on my feet as we fought each other, watching her every move with a snarl on my lips.

“Go ahead and think you can fight me, little girl!” Lestrange cackled as I threw another stunner that actually managed to graze her arm.

“You’ll go the way of ickle Neville’s parents, you will, and then who will he have, oh no one at all –“

“Fuck you!” I screamed as Mum stunned her, but she got away cackling, and I was angrily following her, because _no one_ got to hurt Neville like that, _no one at all_ –

“Maggie! Stop!” Mum shouted at me, but I was sprinting, going as fast as my legs could carry me.

“Get back here you horrible person!” I screamed as Lestrange cackled, and I continued to run after her until we were in another chamber, and I was fighting her again, my fury and anger managing to keep me on my toes and fast in my curse decisions, actually allowing me to fight her instead of just defend myself against her, and I was bouncing on the balls of my feet and walking only on my toes, because that was what dinosaurs did, and it kept me agile and lithe and aloft –

“Think you can take me, you little girl?” Lestrange basically repeated, “Ha! You are barely more than an infant!”

I shout another stunner angrily and she only _just_ blocked it in time.

“I think I will take whoever hurts him!” I screeched.

“Oh I don’t think you should advertise that, we can use that against you, you naïve infant –“ Lestrange laughed hysterically.

“I’ve taken one person who harmed him and I’ll take another!” I roared, feeling my fingers twitch.

“Margaret!” I heard Dad shout behind me. I turned around in shock as he ran to help me, shooting dozens of curses at Lestrange, and the two were fighting faster and with more vigor than I had ever been able to, and I watched in fascination, unable to actually help, because everything was moving too fast for me to even see.

“You’ll never be able to protect her from everything!” Lestrange cackled, “Why, you cannot even protect yourself!”

“Just watch me you _bitch_ –“

“You are a pawn, and you are a slave, and you are weak servant to more powerful people –“

“No, that’s _you!_ ” Dad shot another stunner and it actually hit her, and she crumpled to the ground. I cheered happily and Dad beamed at me, before his face fell in terror.

“ _Maggie!_ ” he shouted and I turned around in shock to see Malfoy, clearly bruised and beaten up, stumbling towards us, his wand raised.

“It was _you! I know it was you, you filthy street rat!_ ” Malfoy roared. I shot a curse at him nervously, but Malfoy was ready for it, injured or not. We began fighting, but he was clearly fueled with rage and anger and he was very able to keep up with both Dad and me, and I was overwhelmed and tired and scared again.

“I don’t know _how you little urchin, but you dropped me, you monster –_ “ Malfoy screeched.

“Leave her ALONE!” Dad roared, immediately beginning to shoot curses at him again, and Malfoy was unprepared, falling down from a stunner, and I cheered in joy.

“Come on, let’s –“ Dad began, but I heard a rustling behind me. I turned around in shock and horror to see Lestrange stumbling to her feet, her wand raised, a glint in her eye.

“Dad!” I shouted loudly, my face paling.

“ _Ava –_ “ Lestrange began, her wand pointed at me.

_Oh god, no –_

“NO!” Dad shouted

It went by in a blur – Lestrange was finishing the incantation –

My dad was leaping in front of me –

The light was hitting him in the chest –

I was screaming at the top of my lungs –

Dad was crumpling to the ground –

Lestrange was cackling –

I had the wherewithal to scream, “ _STUPEFY!”_ and she was stunned, fallen to the ground again in a heap –

I fell to the ground next to Dad, sobbing –

_Oh my god_

I, fumbling, reached for his wrist. He was gone. I stared at his lifeless body, unable to comprehend what I was seeing at all. I swallowed heavily and shook madly in my spot, running my hands frantically through my completely ridiculously messy hair, shaking from head to foot and tears once again leaking from my eyes.

Dad was _dead_.

I slowly got to my feet, still shaking. I had to find Mum. I had to find Mum and I had to tell her. I had to tell her. She needed to know.

_Don’t leave behind his body._

I let out a sob – I was still shaking – I had to lean against the wall to support myself.

_I can’t keep doing this_

I closed my eyes tightly and rested them against the wall. I wasn’t safe here, but I was having trouble moving. I had to leave Dad there, because if I didn’t, I wouldn’t actually be able to get to Mum, and let her know. I turned back to Dad and I managed to, after a couple of tries because my fingers were shaking so much, close his eyes. He looked like he was asleep, but I knew better. I let out another gasp of despair before stumbling down the corridor, walking back to the large antechamber where people were still fighting – there were dozens, maybe even a hundred people in there, and I couldn’t make sense of anything, and the light was hurting my eyes which were sensitive from all the crying.

I groaned softly and held my head in my hands for the briefest of instants before running through the crowds, looking around wildly for Mum.

I found her, dueling with another Death Eater – how was I supposed to tell her this – how was these words supposed to escape my lips – my entire body was still shaking with the effort of my _just being alive_.

“MUM!” I screamed at the top of my lungs. She didn’t even turn towards me – she wasn’t even registering that I was talking to her – she was still fighting the Death Eater and the Death Eater was winning – I watched in horror as she shot the Death Eater with a curse just as he sent her flying backwards towards the veil –

“ _NO!”_ I screamed, but she was still falling, and she fell through it, inside of it, and as she did, she disappeared –

I screamed at the top of my lungs and I saw Sirius rush out to grab me, looking horrified as he dragged me away from the veil; I couldn’t comprehend this, now – I couldn’t – what – how –

“LET ME GO!” I screamed. I had to kill Lestrange and this Death Eater. I had to kill the people who had taken my parents away from me –

“Maggie calm down!” Sirius urged.

“NO!” I roared, and I was _this close_ to shifting, but I controlled myself.

“Sirius, go, I’ll take her somewhere –“ Shae came running up, looking horrified and terrified, trying to grab me from Sirius.

I roared louder and shifted in Sirius’ arms, flying up in the air rapidly, twisting about on my own spinal axis, breathing fire all about the hall as Sirius watched in amazement. Shae transformed and followed me, flying next to me and trying to get me to calm down, but I’d have none of it. I dove down towards the Death Eater who had killed my mother, and he shot curses at me that I deftly dodged, and I was lunging for his throat again when a large **_CRACK!_** Echoed throughout the hall again.

Dumbledore appeared at the side of the hall, and I stopped in my tracks, overwhelmed with pain and terror, but _so relieved_ to see him – we were going to be okay, now –

And on the other side of the hall, Voldemort apparated too –

The shock of it made me fall to the ground with a roar, scampering quickly towards one of the corners of the Atrium.

“Enough, Tom,” Dumbledore shouted from across the hall. I stared around me. There were many more bodies other than my mother. I could see in a corner, Ron and Ginny, sobbing over a body – oh god – it was Mr. Weasley –

I ran to them, still a dragon, panting heavily. They stared at me in shock but I managed to transform back, grabbing Ginny and holding her tightly, sobbing heavily into her shoulder.

I looked around wildly for Harry, then, unable to see clearly as Dumbledore and Voldemort approached each other – where was he – where was Harry – I couldn’t lose him, too –

In the distance, I could see Voldemort approaching Harry – his wand was raised – but Dumbledore suddenly waved his wand and a large peal of water went in front of Harry – no wait – Dumbledore wasn’t using his wand, he was just using his hands – he was using elementalism –

I watched in horrified fascination before running towards Harry and grabbing him, taking him far away from Voldemort. Harry managed to stumble to his feet to follow me, his face paler than pale as we ran to a corner of the Atrium nearby. Voldemort and Dumbledore were fighting, and I was unable to tear my eyes away from the proceedings.

Voldemort seemed to be mostly using fire, and his fire was everywhere, scorching the entire atrium, spreading from one corner to the other, and people were scampering away from it, trying to get away. Dumbledore was putting out the fire, however, with slews and slews of water; the water was everywhere and it overwhelmed me, coming to where Harry and I were and washing over us. I was shivering with cold as it did so.

“What’s happening?” Harry gasped, his teeth chattering.

“They’re fighting – elementalism – that thing – did I forget to tell you – McGonagall’s going to –“

“I think you mentioned it once,” Harry acknowledged, looking at me nervously, “Where’s Uncle Nathaniel? Aunt Melinda?”

I opened my mouth in shock and I felt tears pour from my eyes.

“Oh _no_ –“

“They’re gone!” I whimpered loudly.

“Oh _no –_ “

“And so’s Mr. Weasley -“

“Yeah, I know that,” Harry visibly swallowed, “Emmeline Vance is dead, too –“

“Oh g-god,” I choked out, “Any of our friends?”

“Hermione was badly injured,” Harry whispered, tears falling from his eyes rapidly, “But I think she’s going to be okay –“

“What happened to her?” I gasped, my body shaking with horror.

“I don’t know, but I know she’s in St. Mungo’s – and so’s Neville, but, Uncle Nathaniel told you that, right?”

“I’d be dead right now if he hadn’t…”

“Maggie,” Harry looked horrified at me.

“Look, we can talk about this later,” I whispered.

“But… Aunt Melinda and Uncle Nathaniel… are gone?” Harry whispered. I nodded. He burst into tears, shouting into his hands, his body shaking with pain and terror.

“They’re gone,” he gasped, “Because of _me_ –“

“No, no, not because of you, because of Voldemort,” I insisted, but my voice was shaking.

“Because of _me_ , Mags, because of _me_ –“

“It’s not your fault!”

“They’re dead and it IS my fault!” Harry shrieked.

“No!” I reaffirmed, and I was sobbing, and tears were pouring from my eyes as Harry and I stared at each other earnestly.

“Our parents are dead,” Harry managed to choke out. I nodded, tears pouring from my eyes. I didn’t know if he was saying both of our parents were dead or that, really, my parents had been his parents too, and they were now, also dead. Either was a correct statement.

Harry buried his face in his hands again, still shaking with emotion.

Dumbledore and Voldemort were still fighting, and there was fire and water and spells everywhere, and I was so overwhelmed as I crouched there that I felt my body shake like a leaf again.

“The Aurors are on their way, Tom!” Dumbledore shouted at him.

“I will be gone by the time they are here – and you shall be dead!” Voldemort spat. The Death Eaters were being rounded up by the remaining Order Members – tied in a corner of the Atrium – I looked in relief to see no more glaring absences among them…

They kept fighting; Voldemort kept attempting to kill Dumbledore, however, Dumbledore didn’t seem to be aiming to kill Voldemort in response. I was biting my lip with the effort of watching the proceedings, my heart pounding loudly in my ears as I watched the spells fly through the air between them.

A shower of flames fell out over everyone’s heads and I shrieked; Harry threw out a shield charm over our heads and we watched in amazement as Dumbledore waved his hand and sent water all throughout the hall, taking out each and every one of the flames falling down. I breathed a sigh of relief and ran my hands frantically through my hair; Harry was staring at his hands, breathing heavily, trying to steady himself.

“You do not seek to kill me, Dumbledore?” Voldemort asked cruelly as fire continued to rain down from his hands, now emanating every which way, hoping for a slip up in Dumbledore’s shield of water above us. “Above such brutality, are you?”

“We both know there are other ways of destroying a man, Tom,” Dumbledore paused, his voice completely calm, “Merely taking your life would not satisfy me, I admit…”

Dumbledore threw a shower of water at Voldemort, which he deftly deflected with his wand; all of their spells were nonverbal, and it overwhelmed me in a way, because I had no idea what to expect next. Watching it was like watching a Ballet; the elements were swirling elegantly above our heads in a sort of dance, and there was just so much of it I almost wondered if there was truly that much matter and energy around us…

“There is nothing worse than death, Dumbledore!” Voldemort shrieked.

“You are quite wrong,” Dumbledore inched towards Voldemort, his water coming down in more furious sheets, the fire not getting anywhere near him, and my heart was pounding loudly in my ears and I could hear the shouting voices of the veil so clearly I felt as though I may be forced to join them –

“Indeed, your failure to understand that there are things much worse than death has always been your greatest weakness –“

A jet of green light flew towards Dumbledore; he blocked it with a shield of rubble, which burst into thousands of pieces, but Dumbledore scattered it all away with his wand. Water burst from his hand and went around Voldemort like a whip, entangling around him, and then Voldemort turned it into a snake, sending it towards Dumbledore; Dumbledore set it on fire, and it was gone, but more green light was going towards him, but Dumbledore had blocked it with another pile of rubble, and more was being shattered about but he managed to get rid of that, too – Harry was still maintaining a shield charm above our heads but I was overwhelmed with our surroundings….

Fawkes was souring above our heads. I looked up in shock to see the bird fly down – literally, dive down – to be between Dumbledore and Voldemort. Voldemort cast another killing curse and Dumbledore wasn’t ready for it – I shouted in shock and Harry was screaming – but Fawkes actually went and swallowed the killing curse, and burst into flames between them, turning into a chick…

Dumbledore waved his hands and water engulfed Voldemort, he was swirling about in it, trapped – perhaps he was drowning – wouldn’t that be lovely – but then –

Voldemort had disappeared.

I gasped in shock and frantically spun around, looking everywhere for Voldemort – Dumbledore was running towards me and Harry as the Order watched in shock and the Death Eaters tried to get out of their binds –

“Harry, stay where you are!” Dumbledore ordered, “Maggie –“

I looked at Dumbledore in confusion as suddenly Harry was thrashing on the ground. I screamed and moved back from him, pulling at my hair in shock as I stumbled away.

“Dumbledore, what –“

I looked at Harry – his eyes were red and like Voldemort’s, now – I screamed in shock and horror and fell to the floor before transforming into a dragon – I roared at Voldemort inside of Harry, trying to will him to leave…

“Maggie, _no_ ,” Dumbledore urged, but I was too frightened to change back, now…

“ _Kill me now, Dumbledore…_ ” the voice of Voldemort came out of Harry’s mouth, and it was rattling, and snakelike, and Harry’s body was writhing in pain, and I was so scared and terrified, but there was nothing I could do, here – I couldn’t _force_ Voldemort out of Harry’s body – I could just roar –

“ _If death is nothing, Dumbledore, kill the boy…_ “

I screamed louder, roaring at the top of my lungs, and Dumbledore looked frozen, and unsure of what to do next, watching Harry in fear. I hobbled over to Harry and pressed my face into his, probably scratching him with my scales, but I couldn’t not do _something_ , and at this point, I couldn’t transform back…

“Maggie, transform, _now_ ,” Dumbledore urged.

His words actually managed to make me. I transformed back into a human and I grabbed Harry’s face in my hands. He was still tense, and twitching, and I was weeping openly –

But then Harry’s body managed to finally go still. I looked in shock as he opened his eyes to look at me, and they were like my own again. I gasped in shock, my breath coming in in a rattle.

Suddenly, the door was opening. People were flooding into the chamber and I looked in shock as Voldemort and Dumbledore faced each other. Voldemort looked horrified and pained – why I didn’t know – but for an unmistakably long second, Voldemort and Cornelius Fudge looked at each other. They made eye contact.

A breath I didn’t know I had been holding escaped from my lungs.

Voldemort disapparated.

Harry looked up at me, his whole body shining with sweat, and I pulled him up and held him in my arms.

“I – I saw him – he was there – oh Merlin – It was You-Know-Who –“ a wizard gasped in shock.

“Saw him with my own two eyes!” a witch whispered.

“He was _right there_ –“

“No mistaking it –“

“He disapparated away! But he was here!”

“I know, I saw him too!” Fudge stammered, looking nervous and terrified, “Merlin’s beard – here – _here!_ – in the Ministry of Magic! – Great heavens above – it doesn’t seem possible – my word – how can this be?” Fudge was dressed in pajamas, confirming how much time had passed since I had left the flat.

“If you proceed with me here, Cornelius,” Dumbledore stated calmly, moving towards the Minister, “You will see several Death Eaters contained here – and we must decide what to do with them…”

“Dumbledore!” Fudge gasped, “Dumbledore! A-And… And… Potter! Johnson!”

I glared at him angrily, shakingly getting to my feet.

“Do you believe us _now_?” I hissed angrily.

“I – arrest her!” Fudge gasped.

“I think that now the nonsense of denying the return of Voldemort is over you will be forced to face the reality that your approval of stringent disciplinary methods against the students of Hogwarts negates any claims made by Dolores Umbridge,” Dumbledore paused, looking _so done_ with the situation, “As you approved her use of the Cruciatus Curse against Miss Johnson and…”

Gasps went up around the hall.

“You – you cannot confirm that!” Fudge shrieked.

“Actually, he can,” a man came out behind Fudge. He looked shaken, “I… I was the witness to that order…”

“ _Williamson!_ ” Fudge roared angrily.

“I _believed_ in your crazed conspiracy! That Dumbledore and the others wished to take down the Ministry!” Williamson laughed weakly, “Oh I was a fool! A fool! But not as much a fool as you… Yes, Dumbledore, Fudge ordered Umbridge to use any means necessary to glean what he thought were your plots from Miss Johnson, Mr. Potter, Mr. Longbottom, and Miss Granger…”

“As head of Magical Law Enforcement,” a very stern woman came forward, her hair a light brown, her glasses askew on her nose as she straightened her robes, “I am _happy_ to revoke _all charges_ made against students and employees of Hogwarts by Dolores… I didn’t want to put forth those charges in the first place, but I had no choice…”

“Thank you, Amelia,” Dumbledore nodded.

“And I _will_ be placing Cornelius _under arrest, immediately!_ ” Amelia – I believed it was Amelia Bones – “As I will Dolores Umbridge…”

“What? I have committed no crime!”

“Using Unforgiveable Curses against people who have not been convicted of a crime _is a crime, Cornelius!_ ” Amelia shrieked.

“I should be arrested for authorizing it…” Williamson breathed.

“No, Williamson, we were all lead astray,” Amelia responded brusquely, waving her wand and tying up Fudge, “Someone, go to Hogwarts and collect Umbridge.”

“Who will be Minister for Magic, then?” I asked quietly. Amelia looked at me over the edges of her glasses.

“That remains to be determined,” she paused, “But, for now, I would recommend that you and your friends return to Hogwarts at last…”

“Not yet,” I whispered softly.

“Miss Johnson –“

“Neville’s in St. Mungo’s, Professor,” I whispered to Dumbledore. Dumbledore looked at me for a long time, before nodding.

Sirius came out of the background and people were screaming and shouting again.

“Oh stop,” Sirius groaned, “I’m not a Death Eater – _dozens_ of people can testify –“

“I’ll take them,” Lupin murmured quietly.

“I will need to see Harry in my office, first,” Dumbledore ordered.

“Alright,” Lupin nodded. He grabbed my arm and I crumpled against my old professor; he apparated us away, and I looked up at the familiar old building, swallowing painfully.

“Come on,” Lupin urged kindly. I nodded, shaking from head to foot, as we entered the building.

“You’re bleeding,” Lupin commented. It was true – I had been hurt many times throughout the battle, but everything had been going so fast that I hadn’t even noticed – rubble had hit me everywhere and I knew I had cuts all over my face and arms and legs, and I was so emotionally exhausted and weak I could barely stand up anymore.

“You should be in here yourself…”

“I need to be with Neville,” I swallowed heavily, “Also… could you go back to the flat and get Blue? Please?”

Lupin looked at me for a long time but nodded as we went through the hospital and managed to get to the Spell Damage ward. I was shaking with fear that Neville was dead – but we opened the door and entered, and I could see in the distance that his chest was rising and falling.

I fell to the ground with the force of my relief and wailed, burying my face in my hands. Tears poured over from my eyes and I could feel every cell in my body ache. Realizing he was okay and alive also made me aware of my wounds – my neck was destroyed – I had cuts everywhere – everything ached and was bruised – I breathed heavily, shaking madly and curling up on the floor.

“Maggie –“ Lupin called out above me.

I breathed in deeply and managed to crawl upwards, forcing myself towards Neville’s bed. I then sat next to it, not wanting to disturb him. He looked so peaceful sleeping there, his hair messy all over his face. I leaned down and kissed his forehead, my body trembling as I did so.

It was good to feel a pulse beneath his temple.

“I’ll be back,” Lupin promised quietly. I nodded, still shaking, and I scooted the chair forward to Neville’s bedside, curling up against it.  I was so exhausted I knew I would collapse at any second…

Tears welled up in my eyes and overflowed again, but I knew I was starting to be all cried out. Neville might have been alive…

But my parents were dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ALRIGHT! LOOK! NO TERRIBLE CLIFFHANGER LIKE LAST TIME! LOOK AT THIS AWESOME oh crap sorry for all the shite that happened my bad 
> 
> So what's going to happen going forward? 
> 
> Well, the more comments I get, the more likely I'll update. It's really and truly that simple at this point... I have so much to worry about for school, that interest really is going to keep me going at a steady pace. But I WILL always update eventually, never fear. 
> 
> We have two more chapters left in book 5, and then we're on to 6! 
> 
> I commissioned some AWESOME art of Maggie and Neville which can be found here: https://41.media.tumblr.com/cac8939dce163095610b4de487ee4384/tumblr_nur885YnXv1qiw72bo1_1280.jpg
> 
> And my playlist for the songs for each chapter can be found here: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL7a6t05FDUvc4B-ebfE0ydy1ingdAmToS
> 
> Enjoy!! Please let me know what you think!!!


	81. Chapter Eighty: June 19-21, 1996, London

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Welcome to the inner workings of my mind   
> So dark and foul I can't disguise   
> Can't disguise   
> Nights like this   
> I become afraid   
> Of the darkness in my heart   
> Hurricane"   
> ~ MS MR, "Hurricane"

Chapter 80: June 19 – 21, 1996, London

Falling asleep next to Neville’s bed was good, but not as good as falling asleep next to _Neville_. I woke up crying; my tears were pouring all over his pillow, and I sniffled softly as I got up from my awkward position next to him. My back ached something terrible but I managed to get up from the chair and sleepily climb in next to him on the bed. I couldn’t leave his side, not now, not ever; and I rested next to him, trying to not jostle him as he slept peacefully. I didn’t want to make him more injured.

I managed to fall asleep again, and when I woke up I was still crying, but at least my back didn’t hurt and I slept for a fairly long amount of time. I moved and looked at him – sadly, he was still asleep. I reached out for his face, my hand trembling slightly, and I burst into more tears, burying my face in his shoulder.

I was a horrible person that my only thought was _at least Neville’s alive_.

Sunlight was dancing about the ward, and I could hear other people moving about – I was sure a Healer was going to come and yell at me for disturbing their patience, but I couldn’t care at the moment. I was stuck where I was, breathing in sharply, my eyes closed tightly. Each breath came in staggered and shaking as I fought back the sobs that were rippling throughout my body. The last thing I needed at that moment was to begin crying…

But it wasn’t like I was able to command myself like that at will. Tears started pouring from my eyes again, coming out in droves like rivers and falling onto Neville’s shoulder. I sniffled heavily, curling up closer to him, shaking from head to foot as I sobbed into his unmoving form. Luckily, I was a foot shorter than him, and I could very easily curl up next to him, completely engulfed in him even though he wasn’t laying a way that would make that particularly easy. I was small and versatile, and it didn’t matter how he was positioned, I would always find a way to nestle next to him. At it was good, because I was now soaking his shirt with tears, rather than his sheets and bedding.

I cried for a long time. Very few people made a move to approach me or talk to me, and the Healer in charge of Neville didn’t say anything about my crying, simply worked on his injuries and left. I could only assume that meant he was doing okay, all things considered. That didn’t stop me from crying, though. I had many other reasons to cry, and I couldn’t forget them as I lay there next to him, sniffling and snorting and in general being gross as large numbers of water spilled from my eyes and stained everything around me.

“Mags?”

I was in the middle of – I don’t know, hour number four of sobbing – when I heard Harry behind me. I looked up, sniffling, and sat up slightly against the nightstand.

“H-hey,” I mumbled quietly.

“Hey,” Harry paused, looking tired and all cried out. I returned to my seat next to the bed and he took the one on the other side, leaning against the mattress and onto his hands, burying his face into them.

“What happened after I left?” I asked softly, trying hard to not sniffle too much and loudly, though it was nearly impossible to just _stop_ crying when you’ve been crying for that long.

“Well,” Harry paused, looking at me seriously, “Dumbledore took me back to his office.”

“Did you yell at him for keeping things from you?” I muttered softly.

“No… I kind of had yelled myself out at you, and I’m sorry,” Harry mumbled sheepishly.

“Eh, it’s okay, I deserved it,” I whispered.

“Not really –“

“Can we agree to disagree, here?” I smiled weakly, “I admit you said things you shouldn’t have, but the general idea of you yelling, yes, yes I deserved that.”

“Oh alright,” Harry sighed, looking at me for a long time, “But yeah, I didn’t have the energy to yell at him. I was just… I dunno. I was lost.”

I nodded, tears leaking out of my eyes again and I sniffled heavily, trying my hardest to not just start bawling again.

“I listened to what he said, but most of it… most of it I already knew from you,” Harry drew in a shaky breath, “He _was_ avoiding eye contact because he was worried Voldemort was possessing me… he didn’t make me prefect over Neville, because he thought I had enough to deal with… but I think he could tell I was done with the games,” Harry paused, “I think he could tell that I couldn’t deal with him keeping things from me anymore.”

“So what will happen now?” I asked nervously.

“I’m not sure,” Harry paused, “He might keep things from me anyway. I dunno. But apparently he isn’t worried about Voldemort possessing me anymore… cause of what ‘Mione said…”

“What did Hermione say?” I asked in confusion.

“You were there, you heard her say it,” Harry frowned.

“A lot of things have happened,” I muttered.

Harry paused for a long moment before nodding, “True. Well, she said… she said I was too good for Voldemort to possess…”

“Oh yeah,” I frowned, looking at him, “That’s really why he left?”

“When you transformed back into a human, all I could think was that I was glad you were there, and that I had gotten to see you again, before I died,” Harry swallowed, looking awkward, “Apparently the rush of love at that thought was too much for good old Voldy pants.”

I laughed weakly, but I admit that I was touched by the fact, and I blushed heavily.

“I… Dumbledore told me the prophecy,” Harry paused, “It’s not… it’s not that far off from what we already knew.”

“What was it?” I asked, swallowing heavily.

Harry studied me for a moment before taking a deep breath and, reciting from perfect memory (for how could anyone really and truly forget something as important as this,) “The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches… Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies… and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not… and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives.”

I swallowed heavily and tried to fight back the onslaught of tears that were coming to my eyes again.

“So, you were right… Voldemort hadn’t heard all that… he picked me over Neville… love is the power that he doesn’t have, and I do… and now one of us is going to finish off the other,” Harry whispered in a strangled voice.

“You can do it,” I whispered back.

“Well, Dumbledore said he’s going to teach me starting next year, so I’m a bit more confident than I was when _you_ told me all this,” Harry paused, “But everything you and Neville and Hermione guessed – the stuff about why we were safe at Aunt Melinda’s all those years, about why Voldemort was targeting me… everything, it was all true…”

“Well,” I paused, frowning, “I’m sorry that we didn’t tell you earlier.”

“I forgive you, I really do… I just hope you can forgive me,” Harry looked at me earnestly.

“For being overemotional when you’re told that you have to defeat one of the most powerful Dark Wizards of all time and people had been keeping that information from you for years? Yeah, I forgive you,” I smiled weakly.

“There’s… something you’re not telling me,” Harry noticed, frowning. I sighed heavily.

“Stuff happened on our leg of the trip. But we should talk about what Dumbledore said, more…” I muttered.

“Yeah… well, Dumbledore said that Voldemort might have picked me… because I was like him. You know, half-blood, and everything… and by marking me like he did, he made me more like him… except it didn’t quite work out,” Harry paused, looking at me steadily.

“What do you mean?”

“I grew up loved, unlike him. The thing is, is that, Dumbledore’s convinced… that I would have been this good of a person even if I hadn’t grown up in a loving home…” Harry paused a long time, “And that, if anything… growing up in a loving home… actually made it _harder_ for me to be… well, like this. Good god, I sound arrogant…”

I let out a strangled laugh, “What do you mean?”

“You know how Malfoy acts?”

I nodded.

“Well, he grew up with parents who loved him. He was in a position of privilege… same as me. I’m half-blood, true, but both of my parents were wixen – I’m male, I’m white, I’m cis, I’m straight, apart from PTSD I’m normal in the head, I’m not physically disabled, I’m _rich_ … let’s face it, I could have been _just as much_ a prat as him. The people who are really terrible… the people who act on their prejudices and enforce them on others… they grow up with loving families, who reaffirm that they’re great and wonderful, and they cannot _imagine_ that anyone has it harder than them, they cannot _empathize_ because, well, I had it just fine, these other people must be exaggerating…” Harry paused a long time, “So…”

“By being you, by being so understanding and compassionate and against all of these terrible things, and letting the people who need a platform to speak have one, and not talking over them, and working with them and fighting against Voldemort, despite growing up in a good home…” I thought aloud.

“I proved, exactly how much, I am different from Voldemort, who had everything _bad_ for him growing up, and yet, turned out exactly like someone like Malfoy, completely buying into all the oppression,” Harry nodded vigorously.

“So…”

“So Voldemort gave me the ability to fight against him. To fight against everything he stands for. He gave me you and our friends, somewhat indirectly, so I had people to champion in the fight against our society – he gave me powers to fight against him with – he gave me the ability to escape him four times… more so than either my parents, or Neville’s, or… or yours…” Harry swallowed heavily.

“How many times did…” I couldn’t stop my voice from breaking.

“Three. Same as mine,” Harry whispered.

We stared at each other for a long time, tears falling from our eyes and us doing nothing to stop them.

“Neville doesn’t know how to process the fact that it might have been him,” I whispered quietly, “He just… seemed shocked… overwhelmed… like he _knew_ , beforehand, but… we took off the new label and saw the old one underneath and… it just kind of confirmed it.”

“I think he could have done it,” Harry whispered.

“I think so too, but that’s not the life we’re living in,” I shook my head sadly.

Harry stared at me a long time after that, his eyes still overflowing with tears, “I’m so tired, Mags.”

“Same.”

“I know I can do this, but I’m… I didn’t yell at Dumbledore, because I was so exhausted…”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t know what to do next….”

“You rest, you grieve, and you prepare,” I muttered determinedly. Harry looked at me and nodded slowly.

“When we parted ways, I… at first I stuck by what I said. I really had wanted to hurt you, and so I had managed to convince myself that what I had said was true…” Harry shook his head, looking ashamed, “I was… I was not handling any of this well.”

“No one would,” I reassured quietly.

“Ginny didn’t reaffirm this, though… Ron and Luna said that what you guys had done was terrible, but Ginny never… she said that you should have told me, but that what I said was out of line, and while I’m sure Ron and Luna agreed with that, they never _said it aloud_ … we had a huge row, and I accused her of never being on my side…” Harry sighed deeply.

“Oh no,” I whispered.

“That row was terrible, and we didn’t talk for a while after that… when we did, we just… we discussed our relationship. How we didn’t really communicate… how we never told each other what was really going on in our lives, or what we really thought, which is why I was so shocked by her opinion… I had figured she’d be completely on my side, and not call me out on my shit, because I wasn’t used to her calling me out on my shit…”

“Yeah, I can see that,” I frowned.

“And I mean… maybe we could have worked past that, if we could have just both promised to work at it, but… I had been _very_ rude to her, and I mean, you knew I had doubts in that, I couldn’t picture a future with her…” Harry looked upset, still, emphasizing how recently this had happened.

“You broke up,” I stated for him. He nodded.

“She didn’t think she could forgive me, as a girlfriend, for how I had yelled at her, and I knew I couldn’t really be with her forever, as wonderful of a person she is. So we actually broke up pretty amicably. Then we wandered towards London a little in the woods. I actually still talked to her pretty frequently about… well… how _we_ parted,” Harry sighed.

“Cause she wasn’t afraid to call you out on your shit,” I repeated.

“Yup,” Harry frowned, “And she finally got me to see, after a while, why I had actually said what I said… I felt _horrible_ … I started behaving… much too recklessly…”

“Oh no,” I whispered softly.

“Yeah. I was an idiot,” Harry shook his head sadly, “I’d purposefully go into harm’s way, and do dangerous things, and when the Death Eaters found us, I didn’t… I didn’t run, I tried to stay and fight…”

“Oh geez, Harry,” I groaned.

“We lost pretty quickly. They then had to work out how to get me into the Ministry… needed to be able to get in at night, and needed to bribe the night guards to be off work… Malfoy took care of all that, took a night when nothing important was happening… they promised to kill Luna, Ron, and Ginny, one by one, if I didn’t comply… I had honestly no idea you’d be here when we got here,” Harry drew in a shaky breath, “Seeing you was terrifying… I had thought, well, at least you four were safe…”

I frowned, looking at him sadly, moving my very loose hair out of my face. Curse battles making me lose my hair ties.

“They tortured us, too, of course, over those three weeks… it was horrible,” Harry’s voice was shaky and pained, “I thought… I was worried Ron would go insane… you know… you know he’s a transman, right?”

“Yeah, he told me when I was… over at his house,” I couldn’t get out the worlds _dating George_ without crying anymore.

“Yeah, well, he needs testosterone, right? He takes it in secret so none of us notice… but they took away his T and his voice started getting girly again… I mean a lot of magical surgeries does wonders but he still needs to take the hormone regularly and nothing’s better than an injection so why take a potion… they took away all his T and his syringes and it was horrifying to watch,” Harry breathed in sharply, “Luna… Luna’s also trans…”

“You’re _kidding_ ,” I whispered, “A transwoman?”

“Yeah,” Harry nodded, “She’s told _no one_ … they took away her pills, too…”

“Oh my god…”

“Ginny they just put under the cruciatus curse a lot, but I mean, it’s not like that isn’t terrible,” Harry shuddered, “But they did that to reinforce that they… they _would_ kill them… if I didn’t…”

“Harry…”

“I felt I had no choice… and I almost killed everyone…” Harry moaned, “I _did_ kill Aunt –“

“No you didn’t,” I reassured firmly, “Harry, they were going to lure you to the Ministry in one way or another, and nothing you could have done would have stopped that.”

Harry nodded, but he was crying, tears falling from behind his glasses and down his cheeks in rapid rivers, his body shaking with the force of his horror and guilt.

“Look, Harry, it’s _not your fault_ Mum and Dad died,” I reassured quietly, “It’s Voldemort’s. You know that.”

“I know,” Harry whispered.

“You need to keep reminding yourself…” I mumbled. Harry nodded earnestly, our identical eyes meeting and locking for a long minute.

“So what happened with you, then?” Harry asked grimly. I groaned softly.

“Harry… Harry I _really need you to not blame yourself_ …” I began, my voice wavering slightly.

“Oh no…”

“Look, I have depression, that is _not your fault_ , and it’s exacerbated by the PTSD…” I continued, my voice trailing off in the air.

“Fuck,” Harry groaned loudly, “Fuck, fuck, fuck, Mags, Mags, I’m so sorry, fuck –“

“It’s _not your fault_ –“

“Of course it is!” Harry shouted. A Healer at the other end of the ward shushed him.  

“Harry, look,” I paused, “Whatever part of this was your fault, I’ve forgiven you for. Yes, your words triggered me, but it’s not your fault that I have depression, and am unable to deal with certain things like a functional human being. You have PTSD, and you are angry, and are in a terrible situation, and you reacted like someone like you would react – with anger. You just took that anger a little too far. But I’ve forgiven you, because I understand – _I_ of all people understand how anger can affect us, and you’re at least angry for a _very, very_ good reason –“

“If you had died, I wouldn’t have –“

“Well I didn’t, so let’s not dwell on that,” I sighed deeply.

“But –“

“Look, I don’t like saying it’s your fault, okay, because it’s not. I have depression. That’s it. That’s the fault. Not mine, not yours, just my brain chemistry,” I paused, drawing in a shaky breath, “And I need you to understand this.”

Harry stared at me earnestly, but slowly nodded.

“I love you, and I forgive you,” I whispered softly.

“I love you, and I forgive you,” Harry reiterated, looking despondent still.

“So, yeah. I spiraled. I didn’t talk to anyone, and since I unhealthily equate my own self worth with my ability to care about other humans, I reached the bottom of the proverbial barrel,” I said matter-of-factly, “I at least comforted myself that I was able to help… and then I couldn’t kill a deer… so I…” I swallowed heavily. I couldn’t get the words out. Harry was openly weeping, tearing at his hair with guilt.

“Blue dragged the others back to me and Hermione managed to patch me up,” I continued quietly, unable to really say the words, “And they aggressively forced me to talk about it, now. We talked a lot. Neville… Neville was traumatized, from finding me like that…”

“Oh _god_ –“

“But over a lot of time and work… I am starting to be in a good place again,” I drew in a shaky breath, “At least, I was…”

“And then you thought Neville had died,” Harry groaned softly.

“Well, that didn’t make me so much depressed as it… killed me,” I whispered. Harry cried even more. Or was it me? I was crying. We were both crying. There were a lot of tears flowing.

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry… Mags, I’m so sorry…” Harry mumbled.

“I’m sorry too, Harry,” I breathed, “I should have told you everything – I _did_ fuck up – and then you had to watch them torture our friends – “

We stared at each other for a long time, both crying. I finally got up and wandered towards him, pulling him in for a long hug. We held each other like that for a long time, and it felt good to be hugging my brother again.

“Neville, Sam, and Hermione are less forgiving of you,” I muttered after a while.

“Of course, because they’re normal people –“

“Oh stop –“

“Look, I don’t care if you don’t blame me, this is partially my fault,” Harry drew in a shaky breath, “But I’m not going to wallow in it… I’m really sorry… and I’m going to make it up to you…”

I looked at him for a long time, judging whether or not arguing about it anymore was worth it.

Life was too short.

It wasn’t worth it.

I nodded, looking at him, and sitting back down next to Neville.

“How’s Hermione?” I asked softly, curling up next to Neville.

“Well, not as bad as Neville, I’ll admit,” Harry sighed mournfully, “She got hit with… that cutting curse thing? Umbridge used it on you? Well if you actually use the spell properly apparently it makes, essentially, infinite cuts… or it keeps going for a while… anyway, yeah, she was taken out of there pretty quick, and they’re patching her up, she should be awake within the day…”

I nodded. Tears came up to my eyes again and I wiped them away. She was alive, and that was the important thing.

“I’m just glad the full effect of this spell couldn’t be put into place…” Harry gestured at Neville.

I nodded wordlessly, more tears escaping from my eyes, and sniffled heavily, my body heaving with suppressed sobs.

“Mags, it’s okay, he’s alive,” Harry reassured softly.

“I need him to w-wake up, though,” I blubbered, feeling ashamed of myself for blubbering, “I… I n-n-need…”

“I know,” Harry soothed kindly.

“Mum and Dad are g-g-gone,” I whispered, my heart breaking into a thousand pieces as I said it, finally burying my head in Neville’s limp shoulder again, “They’re gone…”

“The funeral is tomorrow, by the way,” Harry whispered softly, “Sirius and Lupin… wanted it quick…”

I nodded, crying more heavily.

“You should go…”

I shook with more sobs, “I… I _can’t_ …”

“Neville shouldn’t wake up tomorrow, he still has a few more days, why can’t you…?” Harry asked in confusion. I sniffled and looked at him, my eyes straining from all the crying.

“I can’t leave his side!” I whispered hoarsely, “I… I c-can’t…”

“Mags…”

“I _know_ it’s unhealthy,” I protested softly, wringing my wrists nervously, “But… I don’t know how to fix it.”

“I don’t know either,” Harry admitted.

A long pause followed that.

“It’s also my fault Dad’s dead,” I whispered so quietly Harry frowned at me.

“What was that?”

“I said,” I drew in a sharp breath, “It’s also my fault Dad’s dead…”

“How?” Harry asked in surprise, his eyes widening as much as they physically could.

“He…” I swallowed, wringing my wrists again nervously, trembling from head to foot, “I was angry… Lestrange was taunting me… I chased her…”

Harry was silent during the whole explanation, watching me in worry.

“He followed… we fought her… Malfoy caught up with us… I had picked him up and dropped him as a dragon when I thought he had helped kill Neville… he was furious and figured it was me… we fought… during that time Lestrange woke up from being stunned… she aimed to kill… Dad jumped in front of the spell because it was being shot at me… I stunned her and ran to tell Mum…” I sobbed softly during the whole explanation. Harry stared at me in horror.

“Oh my god, Mags…”

“I know… it’s all my f-fault…”

“No, no, it’s not your fault at all, just… that’s horrifying to have to witness,” Harry whispered hoarsely. I shrugged wordlessly.

“And then Mum must have died right when you ran in… oh my god,” Harry breathed. I nodded silently.

Before I did a double take.

“You just called her Mum,” I whispered. Harry looked shocked as well.

“I guess I did,” Harry’s voice was strangled. We watched each other for a long time before Harry groaned and buried his face in his hands. Neville’s chest was still lightly rising and falling next to me.

“I don’t know anymore. I’ve kept such an organized, distinct line between them in my mind, but Mags… they’re both gone now, and one set is my actual parents, and the other the people who raised me and loved me… Mags…”

“Both loved you. They’re both your parents,” I shrugged slightly.

Harry nodded, pulling at his hair a little, “They’re gone.”

“That’s war,” I managed to choke out.

We looked at each other again. The silence was deafening.

“How many more are we going to lose?”

His question hung in the air like the sword of Damocles. I didn’t know how to answer it.

“We protect who we can,” I whispered after a while, my eyes flashing to Neville. Harry nodded. His hands were balled into tight fists.

“Voldemort can’t get away with this,” he hissed quietly.

“No,” I agreed softly, “He can’t.”

Harry stood up and ran another hand through his hair, “Someone… I dunno… Hermione should wake up today…”  

“Yeah, you should go,” I nodded quietly. Harry left then, looking back at me apologetically, but I managed to maintain a smile on my face until he was gone.

I then went and buried my face back into Neville’s side, crying softly into his hospital gown, hoping that he would wake up soon.

Still, you can’t hurry along recovery with the power of sheer will, and even though I groggily woke up the next day with a slight hope that maybe he would stir, he was still very much asleep.

“Miss Johnson?”

I looked up groggily, shifting in my seat. I _had_ managed to get up to use the loo, but other than that, I had basically stayed by his side. The Healer was looking at me in concern.

“Yeh?” I answered softly, sniffling a little and wiping off my eyes.

“Would you like some food?”

I nodded, suspicion entering my soul, though, as I was not used to people aiding me rather than attacking me at this point. I watched her suspiciously as she grabbed some food meant for the tray for a patient; I ate it slowly and cautiously, nibbling on it until it was all gone. The Healer frowned at me while I did this, but I think on some level she understood why I was cautious, and she said nothing as she took the food away.

I curled back up next to Neville and started openly weeping again, no sound coming out while I did so, just lying next to him while he slept and his chest rose and fell in a manner that was comforting to me, because at least, he was still alive.

A few hours passed. I didn’t know, really, what the other members of the ward thought of me. I didn’t know where Lupin and Blue were, either – perhaps Blue wasn’t allowed in. All I knew was that I was trapped on this bed for as long as Neville was.

The sun dipped down over the horizon. I finished crying after a while – because I ran out of tears, and I just lay there, trying to etch every memory of my parents into my mind, so I would never forget them – remembering every laugh, every story, ever trip, ever scolding, every hug, every comfort, very moment with them that I could, so maybe they wouldn’t leave the world quite so soon…

“Mags?”

I looked up to see Ginny walking in. She was dressed in black robes and looking at me in concern.

“Hey,” I whispered.

“Hey,” she responded quietly.

“Was your dad’s funeral today, too?” I asked, sitting up again. The light in the ward was dim, and I wasn’t sure how Ginny had been allowed inside.

“Yeah.” Ginny looked despondent, but she didn’t say anything more about it, “Harry told me what happened… I’m sorry that… I’m all yelled out, with him…”

“He told me what happened with you guys, so I completely understand,“ I reassured, “I don’t want you to yell at him, anyway…”

“I know, but, well, I feel like I should have,” Ginny sighed deeply, “I figured something like that would happen, honestly… but… well, I couldn’t leave Harry at the time…”

I nodded. A long, pregnant silence filled the air.

“How are you doing, with that?” I asked quietly. Ginny shrugged.

“I could tell he wasn’t invested, and honestly, I was disillusioned,” Ginny paused for a long time, “Harry’s a great person, but I need someone who… honestly, Harry’s too much of a mess for me to deal with. I can’t actually handle being with him, turns out. And I just… I don’t know. Being with him wasn’t what I thought it would be. Maybe I built it up in my head too much… what does it matter now…”

I shrugged, looking at her sadly.

“The only thing I care about now is moving on. I was tortured a lot, you know,” Ginny ran a hand through her messy red hair, “I… I still have terrible nightmares…”

“Don’t use heroin,” I said seriously.

“Wasn’t planning on it,” she responded equally seriously.

“Talk to someone you trust,” I continued.

“I plan on it,” Ginny nodded, “You would be my first choice, but, well…”

“I am in no place to be anyone’s therapist except maybe Neville,” I paused, “And that’s not out of competence, but rather, necessity.”

“Yup, I figured,” Ginny paused, “I’m sure I’ll find someone to talk to about this. The most horrifying thing out there wasn’t even getting tortured… it…”

I looked at her for a long time as she composed her response.

“Seeing my brother’s mental state deteriorate the longer he was off of T,” Ginny whispered hoarsely, “You don’t understand how much we all save up to give him that stuff… we work so hard so he’s happy… and it was all… they destroyed that…”

“Yeah,” I agreed quietly, “That’s horrifying.”

“I don’t think I can ever move past how horrifically depressed and… despondent he was,” Ginny visibly swallowed back a sob, “I don’t think I can ever deal with that.”

“You’d be surprised what time heals,” I reassured quietly. Ginny nodded silently.

“You should have come today,” Ginny murmured after a while.

“Probably,” I acknowledged, “But I couldn’t.”

“I know,” Ginny looked at me and Neville for a while, “Your parents have a nice, simple grave area. You should visit them when you can.”

“I will,” my voice broke slightly on the end of the word.

“Elena misses you,” Ginny continued, “I think you should see her soon, too…”

“She could come tomorrow,” I offered in a mumble.

“Neville should wake up tomorrow, and you need to talk to him about what happened when you… when you thought he had died,” Ginny sighed, looking upset, “I’m not saying your reaction wasn’t natural… I’m saying you have to talk about it…”

“Yeah,” I agreed, “And it was over the top, I know…”

“You and Neville are in a very deep situation that you cannot possible extricate yourselves from at this time,” Ginny admitted, “If you tried, you wouldn’t succeed. That’s what war does…”

“Yes,’ I nodded a little too eagerly.

“Just know that there are… pretty terrible consequences, Maggie,” Ginny shook her head sadly, “Killing that Death Eater was just the beginning… it probably will hurt you as much as it helps you…”

I frowned, but she was right. I stared down at my hands.

“And if you live through this war – both of you – you need to… well…”

“Readjust,” I offered quietly.

“Yeah, if you can,” Ginny sighed, “I admit you probably won’t be able to.”

“Well, if the war ends, hopefully, it won’t matter as much,” I mumbled.

“Yeah,” Ginny sounded skeptical, “Hopefully…”

“How’s your mum doing with everything?” I asked, needing to change the subject. It didn’t matter that I was unhealthily attached to Neville, and he to me. I couldn’t deal with that right now, she had said so herself.

“Terribly,” Ginny frowned, “I don’t think she wants _anyone_ in the family to associate with the Order anymore, but we have no choice at this point. She’s… heartbroken, and horrified, and terrified, and she doesn’t understand why George is still in Azkaban, even though he could have come out when we were all pardoned…”

“Will you tell her?” I asked softly. It wasn’t hard to figure out why he was staying in there.

“If you let me,” Ginny paused, “I think knowing will be better for Mum than not.”

“Go for it,’ I whispered, regret bubbling up from my stomach and through my throat, “My… parents never kn-knew…”

“I’m sorry Maggie,” Ginny whispered so quietly, in such a horrified voice, that I could taste it.

“I guess it’s better that way. They don’t have to deal with that burden,” I smiled weakly, “They’re better off not knowing…”

“They died wondering what horrible thing had happened to you to make you so damaged, Mags,” Ginny reiterated quietly, “I don’t think that’s necessarily a good thing.”

A sob wracked through my body and I buried my face in my hands.

“Sorry,” Ginny amended, “That was... that was too harsh, I’m sorry.”

“N-no you… you have a point,” I sniffled.

“Regardless, you weren’t ready to tell them when they died, and it’s not your fault they died, no matter how much one of them might have jumped in front of a killing curse for you,” Ginny reassured, “So, really, don’t… don’t beat yourself up that you never told them. They probably know now, anyway, and understand…”

“Yeah,” my mind was taken back to that veil, and whether or not I could hear them again if I went back. After all, the voices had been shouting at me.

“At any rate, it’s late, and Mum will have a fit… night, Maggie,” Ginny frowned at me. I nodded and watched her leave before curling up next to Neville and, trying to remember my parents’ voices again, forced myself to sleep once more.

I woke up the next day trembling with fear. I needed Neville to wake up, and if he didn’t, I would be in serious trouble. I couldn’t take another day without him speaking to me, or reassuring me, or just holding me, or touching me in some form. I needed him to wake up, now, so I would be reassured that he was in fact alive.

I cried heavily next to him, sobbing into his chest, unwilling to not listen to his heartbeat. It reminded me he was alive. I knew I shouldn’t jostle him too much, and I tried to remain as still as possible, but I wasn’t sure I was succeeding as I did so. I grabbed his nightshirt and sniffled into it, my tears overflowing from my eyes again. I was amazed I still had water to make tears with at this point.

Still, being next to Neville was comforting. At the least, his chest was rising and falling. At the least, I could hear his heartbeat. At the least, he was definitely alive, and he would wake up eventually. If it happened now or tomorrow or whenever, I could live with it, because he was, at least, alive.

Falling asleep when I was this upset and weary was easy. After I had cried for a long time, again, my eyes were much too tired, and my body was much too weak – I wasn’t eating or drinking besides what the Healer would leave me. I really should get food, but I couldn’t move. The Healer had left me food pretty regularly since I accepted it the first time, and besides that there was always water available next to me, but I would eat it slowly and carefully, because I was afraid someone from the Ministry would try to poison me.

So, I was weak, and I spent most of my time sleeping. And I fell asleep again, wondering idly if any of the others would come to see us today.

“Mags?”

The voice jolted me out of my sleep faster than anything else could. I sat up, blinking rapidly, my eyes cloudy and my nose stuffy and my sinuses extremely clogged from all the crying. I looked to see that Neville was groggily opening his eyes, blinking slowly, looking around the ward in confusion and moving very limitedly in his spot.

I let out a loud sob of joy at seeing him act completely, one hundred percent alive and pressed my face into his neck, wrapping my arms around him and holding tightly.

“Ouch!”

I held slightly less tightly.

“Mags, what’s going on?” Neville asked groggily, his voice still laced with worry.

I couldn’t speak; I could only sob, and fairly loudly at that. Neville weakly wrapped his arms around me and held me as I did so, soothing me even though he had no idea what was wrong.

The Healer came over and worked on him while I cried, explaining what had happened to him and how much damage had been done to his internal organs (a lot, he had a while until he would be able to leave the hospital). Neville held me a little tighter at that.

The Healer then left and Neville soothed me for a while longer until eventually I, once again, ran out of tears.

“I thought you were dead,” I whispered after a while. Neville made a small, sad sound at that, presumably of understanding.

“I thought you were dead and that made me feel like…” I mumbled so quietly I hoped he wouldn’t hear.

“Like you were dead?” Neville offered in a strangled voice. I nodded wordlessly into his neck.

“Oh Mags, I’m so –“

“It’s not your fault,” I breathed in sharply, “And you’re alive so…”

“Please tell me you didn’t do anything… like hurt yourself…” Neville mumbled, his voice filled with worry and fear.

“I didn’t hurt myself, no,” I answered honestly.

“What happened?”

I swallowed and finally looked up and into his eyes. They were so comforting. I could stare at them forever and maybe be okay.

“Mags, please, you’re scaring me,” Neville got out, his voice clearly weak with the effort of waking up to the great mess that was me.

“I… I screamed for a very long time,” I muttered reluctantly, “Because it hurt so much…”

Neville nodded, looking at me sadly.

“And then… I transformed…”

“Oh no,” he whispered, but he didn’t look shocked, just worried.

“I… dropped Malfoy from a very high height… he lived but was really bruised up… and then…”

Neville watched me kindly, weakly reaching up to tuck the hair from the front of my face behind my ear. I breathed a sigh of relief at the contact, trembling slightly in his arms from fear and despair and grief.

“I killed the Death Eater who cursed you,” I whispered very softly.

Neville nodded. He didn’t look surprised, or horrified, or angry. Clearly he had expected this.

“I-I couldn’t control it, it was – it was instinct, I couldn’t st-stop mys-“ I began defending myself anyway.

“No, I understand, it’s okay,” Neville soothed, “Really, that’s how you would react to something like that, and I completely understand.”

“I _killed_ someone –“ I whispered in horror.

“You were a dragon,” Neville reassured.

“I’m a murderer,” I mumbled.

“He was aiming to kill innocent people and had almost killed me, I don’t blame you honey,” Neville murmured.

“You sh-should – I’m a monster –“

“You defended me.”

“No one will agree with you on this.”

“Well, then, that’s okay, because no one can convict you anyway,” Neville grinned, “It was a dragon who killed him, not you, and besides, who even saw?”

“Harry and… my mum,” I whispered quietly. Neville looked at me in worry.

“What happened?”

“My parents are d-dead,” I managed to choke out. Neville stared at me in horror.

“Oh my god, Mags –“

“They’re both gone… they’re both gone… they’re both gone…” I whimpered, falling back into his shoulder and sobbing loudly. Neville held me tightly, and I could hear him grunt with pain, but I knew there was no point in talking him out of it. I sobbed for a long time again – but at least he was holding me now, unlike before – and I really was worried about if I was dehydrated or not, because my head was starting to hurt something terrible.

“Mags I’m so sorry,” Neville whispered after I had stopped crying for a while, “So, so, _so_ sorry.”

I nodded into his chest, looking up at him, probably looking grosser than I ever had before in my life.

“What… happened?”

“I killed the man who almost killed you. My dad calmed me down by telling me you were alive… we went out and fought more and Lestrange cornered us… we took her out… Malfoy found us, we took him out… Lestrange woke up… aimed to kill me… Dad leapt in front of it…” I whispered this all very fast before Neville could react. He breathed in sharply, looking at me in horror, his eyes glistening with tears.

“Oh my god…”

“I ran to tell Mum… got there… she got hit…” I sniffled louder, “Then Dumbledore and Voldemort showed up and fought… Voldemort possessed Harry… Harry forced him out… Ministry saw, Fudge and Umbridge arrested, I came here, been here ever since.”

“How many days has it been?” Neville asked quietly.

“Around three, I guess…” I mumbled.

“Have you been eating? Drinking? Going to the bathroom?” Neville asked immediately. I let out a shaky laugh.

“Yeah.”

“It’s not funny, you could be seriously malnourished –“

“The Healer’s been giving me food,” I muttered.

“Okay, well, at least there’s that…”

“How are you feeling? You had a terrible curse given to you, you should be eating, resting, not holding me this tightly –“ I mumbled softly.

“I will hold you as tightly as I think you need to be held,” Neville shot back in determination. I snorted.

A long pause ensued. I didn’t really know what else to say. He rubbed my back gently with his hand and pressed his bearded cheek against my forehead.

“So what now?” I asked after a while.

“I have to shave,” he answered honestly. I snorted.

“I was putting it off when we got back to the flat but at this point it’s making me feel dysphoric, I mean, I’m not a guy, I use the stubble to offset my long hair in my whole ‘I am neither male nor female’ shtick, but too long of a beard and I’m just _mountain man_ and –“

“No, I mean…”

“I knew what you meant…”

Another long pause. I looked up at him and our eyes met for a long time. He breathed in deeply and pressed his lips very lightly to mine, and I reveled in it, having missed the feeling _so much_ in the interim.

“We heal, and we move on,” he murmured when he pulled back. I looked at him skeptically.

“What choice do we have?” he furthered.

“We run away, somewhere safe, and live together,” I muttered. Neville sighed, gently holding my cheek with his hand.

“I won’t deny that that’s tempting… but we can’t do that. You already tried, remember?”

“Yeah, on my _own_ …”

“I don’t think you could do it any more easily with me, Mags,” Neville murmured kindly, “It’s just not you.”

“Yeah,” I admitted, but tears were pouring from my eyes again.

“You can do this,” Neville paused, “I believe in you, and I believe in me, and I believe in Harry and Hermione, and we’re going to get through this.”

I nodded, still crying, and now burying my face in his chest again. He stroked my messy hair lovingly. I lay there in his arms for a long time, breathing steadily, trying to find some sort of steady ground.

“I love you,” I mumbled into his shirt. Neville pulled up my face from it and looked intensely at me.

“I love you,” he responded, his eyes shining with it again.

I pulled him in for a long kiss, which was interesting lying down on the bed like this, with him in obvious pain and me a complete and utter mess, and yet lying in a position that would have been compromising in a better situation.

“I’m sorry I almost left you,” Neville whispered mournfully, tears coming to his eyes.

“It’s not your fault,” I reassured, sniffling slightly.

Neville nodded, pressing his forehead to mine and holding me tightly.

“Did… did anyone else die?” Neville asked quietly.

“Mr. Weasley,” I mumbled sadly, “And Emmeline Vance…”

“Oh god,” Neville groaned, “How are the Weasleys taking it?”

“Badly,” I paused, “Ginny and Harry are broken up…”

“Well then,” Neville looked torn, “Well…”

“It was mutual and amicable.”

“Okay then,” Neville’s awkwardness didn’t fade, much.

“Hermione was badly injured, but not as badly as you… I haven’t seen her yet, though,” I mumbled.

“Why haven’t you seen her?” Neville asked in shock.

“Well, she was in the hospital, so I wasn’t going to leave you, and…” I trailed off.

“Is she still in the hospital?” Neville demanded in worry.

“No, but, yesterday they were all busy,” I mumbled.

“Why?” Neville asked in confusion.

“It was… the funerals were yesterday,” I mumbled nervously.

“Mags, why didn’t you go?” Neville asked in shock.

“I couldn’t –“

“It was your _parents’ funeral_ –“

“I couldn’t bring myself to go!” I sobbed, “Not even just leaving you – but – they _can’t_ be g-gone… they just… _can’t_ …”

Neville watched me sniffle for a long time, gently stroking my cheek and rubbing it with his thumb. I cried harder, my eyes closed tightly as my body shook madly again. He wrapped his other arm tighter around me and pressed his lips to my forehead as I shook and cried there, curling up tightly into his arms and just crying heavily again.

“You have _got_ to be dehydrated,” Neville murmured sadly. I nodded my head quickly into his arm.

“I wish I could just get you water,” Neville groaned.

“The Healer will be around soon enough…”

“I love you, Maggie,” Neville murmured, “And it’s tragic that your parents are gone, and horrible, and it just is another terrible thing in the long line of terrible things that Voldemort has caused… but you knew what the war was. You knew the people you cared about would be taken away from you… you knew, I knew, we all knew. Your parents died in a way that they… in a way that perhaps they wouldn’t have wanted, but at least, they prefer it to other ways, I think.”

“Yeah,” I muttered in agreement.

“Your dad saved your life, and your mum was helping your brother and you escape,” Neville smiled a watery smile, “They did what parents do.”

I nodded, crying still, but pressing my nose into his cheek.

“And you’re never going to forget them,” Neville reassured softly. I nodded again, more vigorously, and held myself tightly to him. It didn’t really take me long after that to fall asleep once more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Please please please leave a comment! Thanks!


	82. Chapter Eighty-One: June 22-27, 1996, London and Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Offer up your daughters, your daughters  
> The new moon comes through stone walls  
> To darken lightened rooms  
> Love will be cruel to who it entices  
> Love will have it's sacrifices 
> 
> There's no way for you to fight this  
> No spell for you to right this  
> No way for you to hide  
> From the demon of the light  
> Love will have it's sacrifices"  
> ~ Soles, "Love Will Have It's Sacrifices"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Preeeeeetty graphic sexual content in this chapter.

Chapter 81: June 22 - 27, 1996, London and Hogwarts

It took a while for Neville to be able to leave the Hospital, but I didn’t leave his side the entire time. I couldn’t bring myself to. We didn’t get many visitors, and honestly I was okay with that. I needed time with him, with him interacting and being alive, before I could go and interact with humans again.

We left a few days after he woke up, and being outside again was the definition of strange to me. Neville winced while he walked, still, but overall he was clearly recovering, gripping my hand tightly as we walked out into the bright sunlight.

“You know what?” I whispered quietly as we walked together through the streets of London.

“What?” Neville asked curiously, squeezing my hand tightly in his.

“The battle happened on June 18,” I murmured to the ground beneath my feet.

“Yes?” Neville acknowledged.

“I was… raped on June 22,” I whispered so softly that I was sure he couldn’t hear me, but he did. He squeezed my hand tighter than anyone ever had in my life, and it even hurt a little, but I didn’t mind. He looked at me so fearfully that I had to wrap my arms around him and hug him tightly in the middle of the London street.

“Oh my god,” Neville whispered into my hair, “This is the worst year ever.”

“Yup,” I laughed weakly, shaking in his arms.

“In the span of one year, you’ve been raped, thought your brother died, tortured, thought your brother died again, got addicted to heroin, were homeless, came off of heroin, got tortured again, got tortured _again_ , were homeless _again_ , attempted suicide, thought I had died, saw your parents die… holy fucking shit,” Neville breathed.

“Yup,” I mumbled more quietly.

“Mags,” Neville looked at me earnestly, “Mags, _no one_ will blame you if you take care of yourself for awhile.”

I nodded rapidly, tears falling heavily from my eyes.

“Mags,” Neville murmured, “Mags, it’s going to be okay. I promise. It will be okay. Maybe not right away, but eventually, everything will be okay.”

I looked up at him, shaking from head to foot, but I nodded. Neville pulled me in for a long kiss, holding my face in his hands as he did so. I stood up on my tiptoes to get closer to him as he wrapped me up closer to him, refusing to let go. Someone on the street whistled.

“Come on,” Neville urged. I nodded and he pulled me onto the London underground, which we road back to the flat where so much of our lives have both stayed the same and changed. Blue ran up to us, as did Hermione, who was looking at us in amazement and joy. I hadn’t seen her since everything had happened.

“Guys,” she whispered softly. I ran and hugged her, and she hugged me, and Neville joined in, and it was basically a huge hug pile that Blue was eager to partake in, and I was crying softly into the hug pile, but at least it was a hug pile, and I had my friends with me, and they were alive, when they so very nearly hadn’t been…

I held tighter to both of them and I heard both of them gasp in pain, but I couldn’t worry about that too much. I needed to hold onto them, be with them, and be comforted by them. They didn’t react much more, though, and the hug continued on for a while, until finally the door to the flat opened.

“What the –“

We all turned to see Harry in the doorframe, carrying a bag of groceries.

“Oh right,” Hermione laughed weakly, “Yeah, Harry was out getting groceries…”

“You didn’t say you’d be out today!” Harry said in surprise to Neville and me.

“You didn’t come by the ward!” Neville responded accusatorily. Oh right. He hadn’t confronted Harry about my attempt yet.

“Neville,” Hermione muttered tiredly. Neville turned on his heel to look at her, glaring slightly.

“Nev, Maggie and him already talked about everything, and he feels horrific enough as it is. Life’s… life’s too short to dwell on this,” Hermione whispered.

Neville and Harry stared at each other for a long time. I felt tenser than I had in years.

“I’m still right pissed at you, mate,” Neville sighed heavily.

“I know,” Harry nodded, “You should be.”

“Like, that was not okay –“

“No, it wasn’t, and I’m sorry,” Harry affirmed.

“I know we fucked up, but…”

“Not enough to warrant what I said to Maggie, no.”

“Alright,” Neville sighed, “Aright. I’ll forgive you… slowly, but I will.”

“Thanks mate,” Harry nodded. There was a long, very awkward silence between them.

“Oh come on,” Hermione begged, “We all almost died recently…”

Harry and Neville studied each other for a longer minute, before Neville pulled Harry into a hug. I let out a sigh of relief at the sight, and ran to hug both of them. It didn’t take much longer for Hermione to come into it, and so did Blue, and we all basically collapsed on the floor in a giant cuddle pile, and I was laughing my head off for the first time in a very long time. The sound must have extensively cheered all of them, and I could feel Neville holding me tighter, and Hermione laugh herself, and I could see Harry grinning out of the corner of my eye.

“So wait, you both have just been staying here?” I asked in confusion.

“Well, yeah. Someone had to take care of Blue,” Harry shrugged.

“I didn’t really want to go anywhere alone,” Hermione sighed.

“We wanted to make sure we saw you when you got out…” Harry continued.

“I was sad because… well… okay, we’re both grieving,” Hermione muttered quietly.

“Didn’t want to be alone in the Nest… Elena and Claire are at Headquarters and don’t want to leave yet, Elena’s not sure she can ever go back to the Nest…” Harry sighed.

“Didn’t want Harry to be alone…” Hermione mumbled.

“Alright, alright,” Neville interjected before Hermione grew more embarrassed, “Where have you been sleeping, then?”

“Same place as the summer,” Harry responded with a frown.

“You know, there’s a bed,” I teased lightly, grinning somewhat.

“Yeah, that’s _your_ bed,” Hermione shook her head madly. Neville snorted.

“Well, whatever, we’re here now,” I muttered in embarrassment, flushing madly. Blue seemed to be _exceptionally_ thankful of this fact, and was rubbing up against my legs.

“Where’s Sam?” I asked curiously.

“He’s with his Aunt. Seems to think…” Hermione swallowed heavily, more tears coming to her eyes,  
“Most people are with their families now.”

I looked at her sadly, “Why aren’t you?”

“I sent my parents away.”

We all stared at her in confusion.

“I had McGonagall wipe their memories and I sent them to live in America,” Hermione paused for a while, looking down at her hands, “They’re currently a very nice refugee couple from the Palestinian conflict living in Chicago so that your grandparents can check up on them. They’re running a dental practice and everything.”

I hugged Hermione tightly as she sobbed into my arms. We all sat there in a pile like that for a long time, most of us crying in some way or another, but I was starting to get all cried out at this point. I didn’t have any more tears to shed.

“Have you heard from your gran, Nev?” Hermione asked after a while.

She had briefly come by to say hello, but she didn’t stay long.

“Not much,” Neville paused, “I think she’s busy with stuff for the Order… or she’s mad at me for running to the battle even though she said to not, and, well, I nearly died, and everything…”

“If you lot hadn’t been there we four would have died nearly instantaneously,” Harry paused, “The moment I gave them the prophecy we’d have been toast.”

“Well, whatever,” Neville paused, burying his face in my hair, “I don’t really want to talk to her anyway.”

“Why? If anything, I should think…” Hermione whispered softly.

“Mr. Johnson was one of the few adults who respected my gender identity,” Neville drew in a shaky breath, “Mrs. Johnson was one of the few adults who was kind to me and always believed in my potential. My grandmother has never acted like a halfway decent parent and I think this is time for me to move on with my life.”

I looked at him sadly, pressing my nose into his cheek.

“Alright,” Hermione murmured kindly. We all sat there for ages.

“So what happens now that I’m out?” Neville asked after a while.

“I dunno. I think… I think McGonagall wants us to take our O.W.L.S,” Hermione admitted.

“You’re _kidding me_ ,” I groaned loudly.

“We need our education,” Hermione paused, “The toad is locked up. We didn’t miss _that_ much school. We won’t have much catch up… it’ll be hard, but those exams were important… you need to learn Elementalism, Maggie. And Harry, you need to prepare to defeat Voldemort. And we all want to be ready to fight… and if we live through this, we want to have a future afterwards…”

“Go _back to school?_ After _everything we’ve been through_?” Harry groaned.

“We aren’t kids anymore, ‘Mione,” Neville muttered.

“No, but we need to learn,” she stated firmly.

“I _do_ need to learn Elementalism,” I admitted reluctantly.

“I hope my experiments aren’t ruined,” Neville muttered softly.

“Dumbledore said he had a lot to teach me,” Harry groaned.

“We have to sit our exams, and we have to go back,” Hermione nodded firmly, “It’ll be better now.”

“Umbridge is in jail! Woohoo!” I cheered almost completely enthusiastically.

“Also, according to SIrirus, Snape is now fully undercover. He can’t blow that, not now, according to Dumbledore. So we’re _also_ getting a new potions professor,” Hermione continued.

Neville’s jaw dropped open, “You’re _joshing_ me.”

“Nope. Gone. Not sure who will replace him, but gone,” Hermione frowned, “Not sure who they’ll get for Defense, though…”

“Maybe they’ll bring Lupin back!” Harry suggested eagerly.

“Doubt it. Re-established Dumbledore or not-re-established Dumbledore, people have an illogical thing about werewolves,” Hermione shook her head.

I growled under my breath.

“Oh no,” Neville groaned.

“What _good_ is the hell we’ve all been through _if nothing’s actually changed?_ ” I hissed angrily.

“We can live in the world again?” Harry offered tiredly.

“She has a point,” Hermione agreed.

Blue was nestled against me and was startled when I stood up abruptly.

“I’m not afraid of the Ministry anymore. What are they going to do? Make me a wanted criminal?” I laughed humorlessly, “Nope. I’m done. I’m not letting them do this shite to me anymore, nor to anyone else.”

Neville nodded, standing up next to me, “I’m done too.”

“Me too,” Hermione agreed, standing with us and looking up at us in determination.

We all turned to look at Harry, still on the floor. He let out a small sigh, before smiling at us.

“I’m always with you guys.”

He stood up and hugged us, before Hermione turned off to the door.

“I’m going to find McGonagall. First, before all that, we have to sit our exams. We need to revise, and I think getting back to Hogwarts is a good start,” Hermione paused, “We should figure out how.”

“I’ll come with,” Harry offered, “I’m sure she’ll be able to figure out a way for us to come back now and get taught quickly over the summer.”

“Ron and Sam too. I think the others can be excused their end of term exams, but Ron and Sam need to sit their O.W.L.s as well,” Hermione agreed, “We’ll be back later.”

 “Alright,” Neville waved slightly. They left the flat, then, closing the door behind them. I turned to Neville, looking at him sadly.

“You’re really not going to talk to your gran?”

“Not… not for a little while. I need time,” he shrugged silently, “I need time to figure out how I want our relationship as adults to be.”

“Makes sense,” I nodded. He looked at me for a little while longer, before cupping my face in his hands and pulling me in for a long, overdrawn kiss. I sighed into it and wrapped my arms tightly around his shoulders, holding onto him essentially for dear life.

**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**

“I thought you were dead,” I whimpered into his mouth. My heart felt, momentarily, like it was breaking again, just by me thinking of that moment.

“I thought we were going to die,” he responded, kissing me now with increased vigor, as though he knew how my heart had briefly broken then, holding desperately to my back and practically lifting me off of the ground.

“I almost lost you,” I groaned desperately, pulling at his long curly brown hair and running my other hand urgently along his chest and shoulders.

“I almost lost you,” he agreed, and now he wasted no more breath on talking. We had been talking for most of the time since he woke up. There was only so much more dwelling on the battle and my grief that we could do.

I buried both of my hands in his hair, now, and hungrily attacked his lips, kissing him more and more forcefully and more urgently with each successive one. He did much the same, his hands running up and down my back, me still slightly supported to be closer to him in height. He groaned into my mouth as I started nibbling on his lower lip, my heart pounding loudly in my ears as I tugged on his curls with need.

“Mags,” he gasped out. I opened my mouth wider around his and he groaned even more, his tongue burying into my mouth instantly. I ran my tongue along his and they danced together for a little while, his hands now moving to go underneath my shirt slightly, tracing up towards my chest.

“Nev,” I responded, a little late, now reaching for his shirt and tugging on it. He stopped me, but not in a way that suggested finality; instead he basically pulled me along into our room and closed the door behind him, locking it firmly, before turning back to me and kissing me hungrily again.

I could hear my heartbeat in my ears.

He pressed his lips eagerly to min and dug his tongue back into my mouth. I went back to pulling off his shirt, basically ripping it from his torso and throwing it on the floor. He laughed, an honest and genuine laugh, which I hadn’t hard in so long. It made me resume kissing him instantly, basically throwing myself at him and tackling him. He managed to fall against a soft spot on the floor and keep kissing me, holding me tightly to him so that I could feel every inch of the skin on his chest – but I was still far too clothed.

Neville seemed to agree, and he immediately went to work pulling off my own shirt, making me sigh happily into his mouth. He then fumbled around for about a minute to unhook my bra – he had never done it himself before – and failed. He grunted in frustration into my mouth and turned me around in his lap. He examined the clasp of the garment for a moment before muttering, “Oh,” in an angry voice. I began giggling at his frustration and he turned my head around to stick his tongue out at me.

“Well how should I have known how it worked?” he asked in bemusement, his eyes a mixture of lust (dilated pupils) and amusement (the way they crinkled slightly with his smile).

“I don’t know,” I grinned, sticking my tongue back at him. He touched his tongue to mine and I laughed more before he pulled me into a longer kiss, now reaching and successfully unclasping my bra. His hands gently lead the garment off of my shoulders and then returned to my breasts, kneading them in his hands as he kissed me gently and lovingly. I breathed in sharply and sighed into his mouth as I enjoyed the feeling – either he had had actual practice with Ginny, or was just naturally surprisingly good at this. He kneaded it gently and thoroughly in his hands, and with my over-large butt pressed up against his groin, I knew he was enjoying it too.

He pinched one of my nipples and it hurt rather badly; I grunted in pain and he immediately stopped, looking at me sheepishly.

“It’s okay,” I grinned, “I’m amazed you were doing as good as you were, since we’ve only done this a _handful_ of times.”

Neville laughed weakly, probably at my terrible pun, pressing his forehead into mine, “I listen.”

“Oh that’s bull, come on, that’s practically out of a movie, ‘I want a guy that listens,’” I teased.

“No, I mean…” Neville was grinning at me, now, his hands resuming their former massaging of my breasts, which barely fit in his hands – and he was a tall human, he had big hands – “I _listen_ ,” his eyes never left mine as he massaged my breasts, and I couldn’t help the little gasps and moans I let out when he kneaded them in _just_ the right places, and the fact that we were making eye contact made me blush horrifically.

“You, Margaret Natalie Johnson, are incapable of _not_ expressing how you feel,” he whispered softly, and I tried to lean in to kiss him, but he wouldn’t let me, just keeping his nose pressed up against mine, his lips mere centimeters away, basically taunting me. I groaned desperately as he continued to massage and roll my breasts in his hands.

“For example, I know that deliberately _not_ kissing you drives you crazy,” Neville grinned. I groaned more at that, and he chuckled softly.

“I know that squeezing right _here_ ,” he massaged a particular portion of my right breast and I let out a soft moan, “turns you on, while squeezing you in the same place _here_ ,” he squeezed my left breast and I sighed softly, “makes you relaxed.”

He moved his hands from my breasts and I whimpered desperately. He chuckled again, “See what I mean?”

I glared slightly at him in a more teasing manner as his hands moved down to my lower back.

“And I know that doing _this_ ,” he murmured softly, his voice husky and almost like a growl as he started pressing his thumbs and hands gently – but also firmly – into the knot in my lower back, making me moan despite myself – again, embarrassing when actually making contact with him – “Makes you feel good.”

I moaned more as he continued to massage my back while looking at me, his hands teasing out that knot that had grown back in the intervening months of chaos and horribleness. I gasped and moaned probably louder than I should have, wanting him to kiss me so desperately but his mouth too far away to do so, and if I moved too much his hands wouldn’t be massaging me there anymore. Eventually the knot undid itself, and as it did so I groaned louder, basically shouting “ _Neville_ ” in a way that could only be construed as sexual to anyone who heard it.

_I really hope they’re not back yet…_

Neville’s eyes were even darker now – I didn’t think it was possible, but I _had_ moaned pretty loudly. His hands had increased their grip on my waist and he looked like he was desperately trying to control himself.

“See what I mean?” he got out in a strangled, high-pitched voice,

“Yeah,” I breathed quietly, “Well, I can do the same for you, you know.”

“I don’t – do I – show my emotions – as much as you?” he responded, gripping me even tighter as I leaned in as though to kiss him and then kept a few centimeters away.

“Maybe not around others, but around me you’ve become increasingly transparent since we started snogging,” I grinned slightly, “Like the way your eyes look when I make these sounds you pay _so_ much attention to.”

His eyes grew somehow _more_ lustful (there had to be a cap, right?) and he leaned in eagerly for a kiss, and I was powerless to keep teasing him, and I kissed him back passionately, moving my hands up to bury in his hair again. He moaned into my mouth and returned his hands to my breasts, but I could not abide by me still facing away from him, and so I turned around in his lap and wrapped my legs around his waist. I squeezed them there and he removed his hands from my breasts to my butt, now, running them down my bare back into the seat of my pants, dipping into my underwear to grab them by the bare skin, squeezing and massaging their muscled mass desperately. I enjoyed the feeling, but not as much as when he touched my breasts, and he quickly figured that out, giving them one last parting squeeze before moving his hands back up to my breasts. Instead of pinching my nipples, now, he started massaging them gently with his thumbs, and I whimpered instantly into his mouth, now unable to stop myself from lightly grinding against his groin, which was definitely still demonstrating Neville’s current state.

“Nev,” I breathed huskily into his mouth.

“Mags,” he breathed back, his hips moving slightly against mine, and I wasn’t sure if it was consciously or unconsciously at this point, but the extra friction was directly against my clit, and it felt _amazing_ , and I knew any more and I wouldn’t be able to stop myself.

I leaned down to trail kisses from his mouth down to his neck and I lightly bit his collarbone. He gasped at that and his hips bucked against me – probably of their own accord. I ran my hands along his arms and then down to his stomach, and I lightly trailed my fingers along his waistband. He breathed raggedly into my mouth, and I didn’t know if I should keep going – even though I had seen that before, I didn’t know where we stood on advances in places in active touching and contact, rather than passive. Butts were fine, but was this?

And he had mentioned dysphoria before…

“Nev?” I asked seriously, swallowing heavily. He looked at me in concern, his breathing growing more normal as he did.

“Yeah? What’s wrong?” he asked hurriedly.

“When you first came out, you said you didn’t really have a dysphoria problem,” I began, swallowing slightly.

“I don’t,” he reassured, looking at me in concern.

“Well earlier you said you were feeling dysphoric about your beard…”

“Just that it’s getting so long that it’s offsetting the gender-neutral look I try to get with my hair, that’s all,” Neville explained, “Long hair is confusing with stubble or a short beard, but this lovely mountain man chaos I have now is _supposed_ to go with long hair on a man.”

“Okay, well,” I swallowed, “Do you ever feel like that with… ya know…”

He looked at me in confusion.

“Your… erm… penis?” I managed to say after a while.

“Oh!” Neville’s face colored slightly, “Not really, no…”

“But?” I asked nervously.

“Sometimes I do, I guess, if people have been misgendering me too much that day. But I never want to get rid of it,” Neville paused, “I just want to pretend it’s not there on those days.”

“Is there a way we could come up with, like… a system? Where you let me know if I shouldn’t do things with it?” I furthered, looking at him with a small smile to try and convey that I was okay with this.

“I mean, it really doesn’t happen that often, and well, you always make me feel loved and like myself, so unless you just _randomly_ decided to touch it with zero buildup…” Neville’s voice trailed off.

“Just in case, then,” I smiled a little more.

“Alright,” Neville smiled back at me, pressing his nose to mine, “I guess… I dunno, I could say something silly like no meat… or…”

“I’m feeling vegetarian today?” I teased, grinning slightly at him.

“Hey, that’s a very discreet way of phrasing it, I’m all for it,” Neville laughed, pressing his nose even more to mine.

“Okay,” I smiled, “So… are you feeling vegetarian today?”

“Not even a little bit,” Neville grinned slightly. He looked nervous and excited at the same time. I leaned in and gently started kissing him again, running my hands through his hair and lovingly pressing my lips to his. He sighed into my mouth happily and wrapped his arms tightly around me again. I ran my hands down from his hair along his back, and then moved them to his chest, gently tracing my fingers along his soft, round stomach and up to his tiny little not-meant-for-feeding-children nipples, and began rubbing circles on them like he had been doing for me. He sighed a little bit and relaxed under my touch, his hands now going down to caress my flabby stomach, playing with a fat roll at the bottom of it. I giggled slightly into his mouth and he laughed in response, running his hands back up my back and massaging my shoulders. I kept rubbing circles around his nipples before moving my hands back down again, slipping them into the seat of his pants to squeeze his, well, being honest, fat butt.

He made a small squeaky noise, and I took that as encouragement, burying my hands deeper into his pants and rolling and massaging his butt in my hands as I did so. This pulled me closer to him, and now my breasts were pressed up tightly against his chest, and he made a louder groaning sound at that. I began kissing him a little more urgently, pressing myself tightly into him as he kissed me back with a similar increase of urgency, running his hands frantically up and down my back and sighing into my mouth.

I wanted to get him excited again – like he was before I had had that necessary conversation. I began nibbling eagerly on his lower lip, gently biting it while running my fingernails along his back. He groaned loudly into my mouth and I took that as a good sign, leaving trails of small, gentle bites along his neck before going down to his collarbone and biting a little harder.

“Mags,” he moaned loudly, his hands moving down into my pants and squeezing my butt desperately. I bit him all along his collar, going from one shoulder to the other, and he whimpered loudly underneath my touch.

I reached the other side of his neck and started sucking on it, and he moaned louder than ever, falling back against the ground and taking me with him. I pulled back and looked down at him in amusement.

He was blushing heavily, but he was breathing very loudly and holding onto my butt as though for dear life.

“You could honestly suck on my neck for the rest of my life and I would die a happy person, apparently,” Neville whispered, swallowing heavily. I leaned back down on top of him, interlocking my curves with his, moving my lips back to suck on his neck again. He moaned louder and his hips physically bucked underneath me, jostling me and making me gasp with surprise. Now he was humping me in earnest, pressing me tightly against him with his hold on my butt. I rubbed my breasts back and forth against his chest and he cried out louder, moaning my name so loud I _really really really_ hoped Hermione and Harry weren’t home yet.

“M-Mags… Mags… Mags I need you,” he gasped out, humping furiously against me as I sucked on successive spots on his neck. I could feel my heart racing rapidly in my chest and I knew that penis-in-vagina activities were not quite on the table yet – or at least, _I_ wasn’t quite ready for that, yet. But I did want to please him. I wanted to please him a _lot_. I moved my hands down to his pants and fumbled with them nervously. He managed to still his hips and stared at me lustfully, but also nervously, and I could tell that those were the primary emotions at this moment. I pulled him up to be sitting again, and I unstraddled him, making him cry out longingly. I frowned at him apologetically, but I needed to get off of his lap before I could take off his pants. I unbuckled his belt and unbuttoned his pants, neatly sliding them off of his hips. I kept eye contact with him, watching his delicious brown eyes lovingly. He reached out with his hand and cupped my cheek with it, pulling me in for a long kiss as I reached down and gently removed his boxers. I pulled them all the way off of his hips, and he continued to stare at me longingly as I did so.

“This okay?” I asked quietly, looking at him nervously and excitedly. He nodded, his eyes wide with identical emotions. I started kissing him again, reaching down with my hands for his penis, gingerly grabbing it in my hands.

For the first time ever since I had come out of my spiral, I was kind of glad I had gone off the deep end one year previously. I had at least an _idea_ of how to proceed here. I cupped it in my hands and started moving them up and down along it. Neville groaned into my mouth as I kissed him, gingerly running my hand up and down and occasionally rubbing the tip of it with my thumb.

Neville made a slight sound of discomfort into my mouth and I looked at him in worry.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, my heart racing in my throat.

“Nothing! It’s just – it’s a little dry, you know? I dunno, there’s a reason people use lotion for this stuff,” Neville admitted sheepishly.

“Oh!” I gasped, “I’m sorry –“

“Don’t be –“

“No just give me a sec,” I reassured. I had lotion in the bathroom. I hurriedly threw on my shirt without a bra and scurried into the bathroom without a second thought – it didn’t appear that Hermione or Harry were there, and Blue was napping on the couch. I ran back into the bedroom and closed and locked the door behind me. Neville was watching me in complete and utter amusement. I put the lotion on my hands and lathered them up, smiling at him slightly.

“Your shirt should really come back off,” he teased, his eyes lit up with love and amusement.

“Oh shove off,” I giggled. He reached out and pulled it off for me, and I returned my hands to his penis, running them up and down along it. Now he moaned in earnest, grabbing me roughly by the shoulder and pulling me in for a kiss as I increased my tempo slightly. He moaned into my mouth so loud I’m glad I was kissing him to muffle it, moving my hand up and down even faster along him.

“Mags,” he moaned desperately, “Oh god, don’t – don’t stop –“

“Wasn’t planning on it,” I laughed into his mouth, now rubbing my thumb on the head of it, making him cry out in a way that made my heart flip. I increased my speed even more and could feel my wrist getting tired, which was a potential problem, as he was tensing and humping into my hand beneath me and clearly was enjoying it in extreme amounts. I rapidly put my other hand on it, still kissing him passionately, and switched; using my non-dominant hand was awkward but I forced myself to go as fast as I could, slightly tugging as I did so, my tongue burying into his mouth. He continued to moan, as though he hadn’t noticed the hand switch, his hands squeezing my breasts again tightly and heavily, his breathing shallow and rapid.

“M-Mags… _M-Maggie…”_ he groaned, pressing his forehead to mine and no longer kissing me, just breathing rapidly. I switched back to my dominant hand and went as fast and hard as possible, and he trembled madly underneath my touch. He started squeaking with pleasure and the sounds were making _me_ wetter by the second and he wasn’t even touching me there, I was kneeling next to him on the floor.

“ _Ahhh!_ ” he cried out, his entire body beginning to tense underneath my touch as though he were a rubber band stretched as much as possible. I went as fast as possible, now rubbing my thumb rapidly over the tip, and he finally exploded… everywhere. It was everywhere. The stuff was everywhere, on my hands, on his stomach, all over my arms and some of it probably got in my hair.

“Augh!” I shouted in surprise. Neville flushed with embarrassment.

“I… forgot about that part,” we admitted sheepishly at the same time, in unison. Neville immediately started laughing and I colored significantly more.

“Well to be honest most of the stuff I did last summer was… penis in vagina shit,” I muttered in embarrassment, averting my eyes, “I didn’t do this too much.”

“And to be honest I typically do this in the shower or other places where I can easily flush away the mess,” Neville grinned lopsidedly, his eyes filled with satisfaction and love as he stared at me.

“Alright, I’ll clean it up, then,” I laughed weakly, standing up. Neville shook his head rapidly, groggily getting to his feet and reaching for tissues on the nightstand and wiping off his body and mine, lovingly drawing me in for a long kiss.

“I love you,” he whispered happily. I giggled.

“I love you,” I responded, kissing him again.

“Thank you, Maggie,” he murmured tenderly into my mouth. I smiled at him.

“It was my pleasure,” I answered honestly.

“Not _really_ ,” Neville grinned, “But it will be.”

“What do you mean?” I asked in confusion.

“One sec,” he paused, grabbing his boxers and throwing them on and running out into the hallway. I watched him go, still confused, my heart slowing from the exertion of the event. My wrists were both _extremely_ sore and I shook them out madly, grunting slightly from the pain.

He came back in then, looking cleaner – his hands were washed. I tilted my head to the side in confusion.

“Wanted to make sure none of it was still on me anywhere,” Neville clarified, coming back over to me and pulling me in for a long kiss. I sighed happily into his mouth.

“Why did you need to –“ my question trailed off into the air as he started kissing me more earnestly, running his hands along my shoulders and down to my breasts again. I moaned happily into his mouth as he started massaging them once more, kneading them expertly in his hands, his tongue exploring every inch of my mouth. He started rubbing the nipples in circles again and I whimpered, feeling my heart start to race again and my body shake with urgency. There were only so many times he could make me feel _good_ before I would start to feel frustrated that I hadn’t gotten to _amazing_ yet. My nether regions were _basically throbbing_ with the number of times blood had been flushed into it and then taken back out again.

Apparently Neville understood this, as his hands immediately went for my pants. I watched him in excitement as he unbuckled the shorts and pulled them off of my body. He then frowned slightly, and pulled me up to be standing.

“Wha –“ my word trailed off as Neville pulled off my underwear while I was standing.

“Based on our… dry humping,” he frowned, deciding that that was the best word for it, “I wanted to make sure I got a good angle.”

“A good angle on – what?” I asked, knowing what I was _hoping_ he’d do, but not sure if that was where he was _going_.

“This,” he murmured seductively, trailing his hand down to my groin. He pressed his palm up against the general area of my clit, rubbing against it gently. I, luckily, produced my own lubrication; the feeling was only pleasant, and I gasped out, pressing my face into his chest (god dammit why was he so much taller than me). He continued to rub me there for a little while before trailing one finger down the middle of the area, and then slowly sticking that finger into my vagina.

I sighed joyfully at the feeling of him inside of me, at least in _some_ way, but that wasn’t enough for him. He angled that finger against me and gingerly pressed up against my walls in a variety of ways, his breath ragged in my ear as he did so.

Apparently, once again, he was listening. When he pressed on the angle directly towards him, I let out the loudest moan out of every angle. I could feel the muscles of his face pull into a smile against my head. He started pressing on that spot more urgently, still rubbing his hand against my front. I whimpered desperately at the contact, thrusting my hips slightly into his hand. He moved his finger slowly at first, but I was whimpering not with pleasure so much as need, and he started moving faster against me, his hand rubbing up quicker and his finger moving more rapidly inside of me.

“N-Nev,” I gasped out, shaking madly with pleasure against him as he moved his finger somehow even faster inside of me. His palm kept rubbing, and now I was so aroused that I was completely exposed and wet, giving him more exposure in that area to rub. I felt like every nerve ending in my body was on fire as he rapidly moved both portions of his hand.

He was so excited about it, however, that he accidentally scratched me with his finger.

“Ouch!” I shouted before I could stop myself. Neville immediately stopped, looking at me in worry.

“What did I –“

“Just scratched me with your nail, that’s all –“

“Dammit,” Neville grumbled.

“Don’t worry about it, it’s okay –“

“I’ll be more careful –“

“ _Seriously_ , it’s fine, just,” I whimpered again, “Just start again –“

“Okay,” he looked nervous now – he clearly didn’t want to scratch me again.

“Seriously, Nev, it’s fine,” I begged. Neville nodded and resumed moving his hand and finger, but slower now, making me groan with desperation.

“Faster,” I begged softly into his chest. He complied, albeit reluctantly, moving his palm rapidly again, but his finger was still hesitant.

“Faster,” I repeated, looking up at him desperately, clawing at his back with my hand. Neville swallowed and nodded, moving his finger quickly again. He then slid another finger inside of me, making me moan loudly into his shoulder, and started moving both of them together in a drumming sort of pattern.

I cried out and gasped his name and he slowly got back into it again, the drumming of his fingers driving me wild as I basically humped his hand. I made as many sounds as possible to reassure him that it felt good and we wasn’t hurting me, moaning and whimpering and sighing and gasping and crying out his name because it _did_ feel good.

“ _Fuck_ ,” I gasped out desperately, and he groaned softly next to me, now rubbing his palm even quicker against me. I humped him hard now, moving in time with his fingers and palm to press up against him as rapidly and hard as possible. I could feel myself beginning to climb that mountain and I didn’t want it to end so soon, not when every inch of me felt so good I wanted to scream, not when I wanted to feel him touch me like this every second of every day for the rest of our lives, not when my clit was on fire with pleasure and my vagina was throbbing with the same and I must have been wetter than a person waiting for the bus for an hour in the rain in the middle of the city without an umbrella. In fact I was so slick that he was moving in and out of me slightly with his fingers, making him groan louder against my head.

“Oh god, I can’t wait till we’re ready for,” Neville groaned next to my ear.

“It’s going to be g-good,” I managed to gasp out, but I was focused on this now. He kept drumming his fingers inside of me and I kept rolling my hips into his hand, wanting to climb the mountain but also wanting it to last forever.

“Crap, my wrist is getting tired,” Neville groaned.

“Just s-switch,” I begged, unwilling to stop for any reason, panting out loudly into his ear.

He did so as quickly as he could, still fumbling slightly on the transfer, clumsy as he was as a person. This was good, though, because I came down slightly from the mountain, and he was moving rapidly against me again, but more clumsily with his non-dominant hand. I groaned and humped his hand more as a result, my hands running up and down his back eagerly as he started drumming his fingers against me, grunting softly with effort.

Soon enough, Neville found his rhythm again, and I cried out loudly into his ear, which egged him on more. He hesitantly slipped a third finger inside of me, but I was so wet and stretched out at this point that it fit easily, and the feeling of three fingers drumming on the most sensitive spot of me as he rubbed his palm rapidly against the _other_ most sensitive spot of me.

I was beginning to climb the mountain again and I welcomed it this time, humping him rapidly, crying out loudly against his chest and loudly begging his name. He switched back to his dominant hand, much more quickly and expertly this time, and dove all three fingers in at once, making me _basically_ scream his name with pleasure as he started rapidly – much more rapidly than with his non-dominant hand – drummed them, his palm going so fast it must have been some sort of record.

“Ne-Ne-Neville!” I cried out, “Oh – oh –oh!” My voice grew high pitched and squeaky as finally I climbed to the top of the mountain and, as he slipped in his pinky finger and moved all four rapidly against me, tumbled down it. My walls closed in rapidly around him and I shivered in his arms, shouting his name at the top of my lungs as I squeezed and released involuntarily around him, more liquid coming out of me as I moaned with pleasure and practically saw stars behind my eyes. The pleasurable contractions eventually slowed, and I stopped shaking in his arms, and I collapsed against him, a long breath escaping my lips.

Neville chuckled weakly, giving me a few more parting rubs before removing his hand from my groin, shaking it out madly.

“Sorry that took so long,” I breathed weakly, still sort of seeing stars behind my eyes.

“It’s fine love,” he reassured, grinning widely as I looked up at him, “I _really_ don’t mind.”

I laughed, still weak from the aftermath, resting heavily in his arms. He wrapped his arms all the way around me and squeezed, keeping his hands away from my skin, as sticky as they were. He then grabbed tissues and wiped off his hands so he could lift me from the ground and hug me tightly.

“Nev!” I shouted I surprise, but he was laughing in my ear and I couldn’t stop him from being happy. He pulled me in for a long kiss and I wrapped my arms all the way around his shoulders, squeezing him back just as tightly.

****~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~** **

“I love you so much,” he murmured joyfully, pressing his nose and forehead to mine. I pressed back, beaming lovingly at him.

“I love you so much,” I repeated, holding him tightly to me.

“I _really_ hope they aren’t back yet,” he laughed weakly.

“Well, if they are, we’re all adults, kind of,” I chuckled.

“We’ve been forced into adulthood way too young due to terrible circumstances, I wouldn’t call that _able to not be awkward overhearing your best mates doing sexual things_ ,” Neville grinned.

“Well… fair…” I giggled. Neville pulled me in for a long kiss and I sighed happily into his mouth.

“I love you,” I repeated. Neville laughed.

“That good, huh?”

“Oooooh yes,” I nodded rapidly. He grinned with what could only be pride.

“And you?” I asked nervously. His eyes grew very wide and he nodded as quickly as I had been.

“I kind of wish we could be doing that… all the time,” he stated sheepishly. I blushed furiously but smiled at him.

“Same,” I grinned. He pulled me in for a long kiss, pulling back slowly, staring at me somewhat intensely.

“We can’t, though, can we,” he muttered mournfully.

“Nooo,” I responded, laughing slightly.

“Well, erm, I’m really sweaty,” Neville muttered sheepishly.

“Showers tend to fix that,” I teased.

“Yes but, I’m also really tired,” Neville mumbled even _more_ sheepishly.

“Too tired to take a shower?” I asked in confusion.

“Too tired to _do_ anything… erm… special in the shower,” Neville blushed.

“Oh, don’t worry, I didn’t think we would,” I smiled slightly, “I just wanted to hold you… and not leave your side…” I said the last part in a mumble. Neville pulled my face up to look at him again, as I had been staring at my feet. I felt tears come to my eyes and I couldn’t stop them, which angered me to no end, as I had been doing well.

“Oh Mags,” Neville whispered quietly. I began sobbing in earnest now, pressing my face into his chest and shaking in a very not-good way from head to foot.

“You can come in too, don’t worry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he reassured calmly. I squeezed my arms tightly around him for a long minute, loathe to let go of him for any reason.

“I love you, and I’m here, and I won’t leave you, I promise,” Neville mumbled.

I sobbed harder. He had promised that before, and almost left anyway. It turned out that that wasn’t something you could actually _promise_. But it was hard for me to convey that in my currently _very_ emotionally vulnerable state.

Neville pulled me over to our bed and sat me down on it, sitting next to me and wrapping his arms tightly around me. He buried his face in my hair and breathed in deeply, whispering that it would be okay over and over in my ear. After a while, my sobbing slowed down, and I nodded slightly.

“I love you,” he murmured quietly once I had stopped crying, looking deeply into my eyes trying to convey the emotion.

“I love you,” I sniffled, wiping off my eyes.

“You hardly ever cried before,” Neville murmured sadly, “Well, you would occasionally, but this is… this is a hundred times as much.”

“My parents are dead, and I thought that you had died too,” I whispered.

“That would do it,” Neville acknowledged.

“And… I killed someone,” I mumbled quietly. Neville looked at me again, holding my face tightly in his hands.

“Mags, that’s war,” Neville stated firmly, “You didn’t want to do it, but you were overcome with emotion and couldn’t control your actions. People die in wars. That’s just how it goes. One day, Harry will have to kill Voldemort. We’ll all probably have to kill someone to defend ourselves one day. You were defending yourself. I promise.”

I nodded weakly, but I wasn’t sure I believed him.

“I promise,” he repeated. I nodded again, and I knew I could at least _pretend_ I believed him when I was with him. I kissed him deeply, and he held onto me for a long time again, before we went and took a brief, calming shower. Neville fell asleep almost instantly after that, but I wasn’t as tired as him. I went back out to the kitchen and sat at the table, playing with Blue and wondering where Harry and Hermione were. I was trying to ignore the sadness deep within my heart – it wasn’t an empty snake, but it was almost as bad.

I got up to get some food and ate it slowly, feeding Blue some meat from the fridge idly, when the door to the flat opened again. I looked up expectantly as Hermione and Harry walked in, talking to each other quietly.

“So? How’d it go?” I asked.

“Well it took us _forever_ to track her down,” Hermione sighed.

“Really? It did? You didn’t track her down earlier and just… go back out for something?” I asked suspiciously.

Harry frowned, “Why would we have done that?”

“No reason. Okay, so why did it take you forever to track her down?” I continued in as innocent of a voice I could muster.

“Well she’s at Hogwarts right now, so we had to get there, obviously,” Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Oh lord,” I groaned appreciatively.

“But basically she was already prepping for us to come and finish up the term and take our exams,” Harry grimaced, “We have until term starts on the first.”

“When… are we _taking_ the exams?” I asked in horror.

“The two weeks before. So we have about a month and a half,” Hermione sighed, “Then we’ll get our books and things for the new term and come back not on the train.”

“Oh my _god_ –“

“Yup,” Harry acknowledged, “As in, she wants us there _tomorrow_.”

“This is bull –“

“We have to take them before starting the sixth year, and she has a point in that we want to start with everyone else and return to a sense of normalcy,” Hermione pointed out.

“Neville is barely well!” I shouted, gesturing towards the door, “He’s already asleep!”

“Well, we don’t really have a choice,” Harry grunted, “I already tried.”

“Luckily the bulk of the summer term for fifth year is revision,” Hermione reassured, “We _really_ only lost about two, three months of material.”

“So we’re cutting out the revision?” I groaned.

“We’re supposed to do that on our own time. Also, no weekends.”

“We’re going to _die_ ,” I moaned into my hands.

“No, we were going to die when we were on the run. Right now our prognosis is quite good, all things considered,” Hermione reassured.

“I’d _rather_ be on the run –“

“Well that’s just not true, I like having clean clothes again,” Hermione scolded.

“Fine…”

“Look, we’ll get through it, and then sixth year will be a breeze,” Harry sighed, “That’s how _I’m_ reassuring _myself_ , anyway.”

“It’s the end of days,” I stated dramatically.

“It’s the start of remedial school, and we’re lucky we’re being given this chance, we almost were delinquents,” Hermione snapped.

“We were falsely accused of crimes and nearly killed!” Harry shouted.

“I’m not saying we _should_ have been delinquents, I’m saying we almost _were_ delinquents,” Hermione shook her head madly.

“Pot-ay-to, po-tah-to,” I muttered.

“Honestly, you two,” Hermione scoffed.

“What about the not-fifth years? And Fred?” I asked.

“Well they’re being given a by on exams but they have to study the material they missed. And Fred just isn’t continuing school. You don’t need N.E.W.T.s as much as you need O.W.L.S, it’s true, and besides that Fred is going to open his joke shop with Lee Jordan,” Hermione shrugged.

“Alright then,” I sighed.

“Wonder what Hogwarts is like in the summer?” Harry asked curiously.

“Hell on wheels, no doubt. It’s hot enough as it is in June,” I groaned.

“We’re going to burn up to a crisp,” Harry agreed.

“Who’s going to teach us Defense? And potions?” I continued.

“Apparently they’re bringing back the potions master from before Snape – this man named Slughorn,” Hermione shrugged, “And as for Defense, well, this will please you – _Sirius!_ ”

“You’re kidding!” I shouted eagerly.

“Nope!” Harry was grinning, “He volunteered for the next year. Something about being able to escape Azkaban makes Dumbledore think he’d be good at it.”

“Oh man, now I’m a little excited,” I beamed.

 “Well, we’ll still have to work hard,” Hermione reminded.

“Yes, Hermione,” Harry and I groaned in unison. Hermione sighed as Harry and I grinned eagerly at each other.

“Well, I _am_ excited to have Team Potter back together at least,” Hermione stated in amusement.

“Oh god,” I groaned.

“No,” Harry snapped.

“We said _no_ ,” I agreed.

“No means no, Hermione,” Harry teased.

“Really, the concept of consent is not a _difficult_ one to grasp,” I rolled my eyes.

“You would think you would have by this point,” Harry nodded.

“Honestly, Hermione, pull yourself together,” I beamed.

“Have _either of you_ come up with a better name?” Hermione practically screeched.

“N-“ I started to answer as the door to the bedroom opened. Neville wandered out groggily, looking at us in confusion.

“Whaaaaaaat is happening?” he asked tiredly.

Hermione explained the whole situation with O.W.L.s as Harry and I sniggered at each other slightly in our corner of the room.

“ _Bloody hell, Hermione, revise for our O.W.L.s in a month and a half? Are you MAD?_ ” Neville shouted.

“It wasn’t _my_ idea –“

“This is mental!”

“We’ll be able to get through it!”

“We’re going to _die_!”

“That’s what I said,” I piped up.

“We are not going to _die_ –“

“SLEEP DEPRIVATION KILLS, HERMIONE –“

“Then get sleep!”

“Get sleep, says the woman who regularly loses sleep every year because she’s _insane_ –“

“You’re _overreacting –_ “

“People cry about O.W.L.s _when they have the usual amount of time to prepare!”_

“They’re going to go easy on us in the examination –“

“Oh great, so it’ll be just _slightly_ less hard, great, just great!”

“We’ll all work together!”

“I’m going to murder someone as a result!”

“We don’t have any other duties to worry about –“

“Mental health maintenance is not a duty!”

“This is fascinating to watch,” I muttered to Harry out of the corner of my mouth. He grinned at me.

“I’ll bet you five galleons Hermione wins,” he whispered under his breath.

“Psh. Neville’s going to win. You’re on,” I grinned back at him. His eyes, however, reflected the deep, ongoing sadness that I was trying so _desperately_ to not feel anymore. _I couldn’t let myself get dehydrated from crying too much_.

Hermione and Neville were still bickering pretty extensively about this, and I giggled softly, which caused them both to look at me.

“Think something’s funny?” Neville demanded, looking at me in amusement.

“Just, well, you two are ridiculous,” Harry snorted.

“Oh please, like _you_ don’t bicker all the time –“ Hermione snapped.

“You two don’t bicker, but you do fight about silly things like this,” I pointed out.

“Oi!” they shouted in unison.

“The point remains that we have no choice but to do these exams in this time crunch, and they’re doing everything they can to help us, so while it sucks and we do have to try and balance recovering from the _complete trauma_ we all just experienced and we have every right to complain, we also still have to do it, so what’s the point in fighting about it?” I explained tiredly.

Hermione harrumphed but looked resigned. Neville nodded slowly, frowning.

“Come on, let’s all go to sleep,” I sighed, “It’s getting late, and we have to go back to school tomorrow anyway.”

They nodded and went to their spaces in the living room. I went off back to the bedroom, waiting expectantly for Neville and Blue, both of whom followed eagerly. Blue chirped at me and I scratched her behind the ears again, sighing slightly.

“Sorry I’ve put you through so much, Blue,” I murmured softly. Blue simply chirped. I think she knew it hadn’t been my fault – well, as much as a much too intelligent kind of non-avian dinosaur could understand such a thing.

“Sorry for bickering with Hermione, I was just tired,” Neville murmured sheepishly.

“Oh it’s okay, I really was amused and not upset,” I shrugged. Neville nodded and stood their awkwardly as I finished scratching Blue, and then I stood up and hugged him.

“Come on,” I sighed, “We should sleep.”

“Was that what you were fighting about outside?” Neville asked curiously.

“No,” I laughed, “We were bickering about our group name again.”

“Oh, my _god –_ “

“Team Potter may stick.”

“We’re doomed.”

“I know,” I grinned at him. He leaned in and kissed me for a long time, again, holding me tightly to him. I looked up at him desperately.

“You can’t promise that you won’t be taken away form me,” I paused, swallowing heavily, “But you can promise that you’ll stay with me as much as what is in your power.”

“Then that’s what I promise,” Neville nodded. We kissed again, for a long time, probably too long, given that we needed sleep.

“We’re consigned to this war, and there’s no way to hide from what we’re destined to do, thanks to Harry,” I paused, swallowing.

“But we can at least take comfort for those things that _are_ in our control,” Neville nodded, “Like us.”

I nodded vigorously. We kissed again, and then both settled in to sleep, me resting my head on his chest and listening to the comforting pace of his heart lulled me into a nightmare-less sleep.

And so, the next day, we packed up our things and left the flat, though we didn’t have many things to pack up, considering how we had gotten to London in the first place. We trudged down to the Leaky Cauldron, all on our own, as other people were leaving in different groups and at different times evidently. I would talk to Elena about everything later. For now, I was too tired for such an emotional encounter.

Hopefully, I wouldn’t be too tired for my exams.

END OF BOOK FIVE

(Neville and Maggie, circa around now, once Neville's shaved his beard; not my art: I commissioned it from http://princessd95.tumblr.com/post/129197558995/a-little-commission-for-a-dinosaur-a-day-of-her) 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Five down, two to go! Sadly, those two might actually end up being longer than book five was - both of them. Individually. Well, lots of new twists and turns ahead of us. yes, they go back to school, but apart from the really necessary things, lots of shit changes, as you can already start to see. And they aren't completely at school... no, they don't go on the run again, but... well, you'll see. And then book seven is a shitstorm. Also, Maggie has a lot more to deal with with the fact that her parents died than you've seen - same with Harry and Elena. They're not out of the woods yet on that front, never fear. Why would I ever be TOO nice to my characters? 
> 
> At any rate, PLEASE comment, okay? I really do need them in order to motivate my writing. They're my lifeblood. Thanks :)


	83. Chapter Eighty-Two: September 1, 1996, Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Five years 
> 
> We're down ago 
> 
> And you'd think 
> 
> By now we'd know 
> 
> How to 
> 
> Read each other's signs 
> 
> Move hands in the air 
> 
> Won't fight it anymore 
> 
> Check me 
> 
> I am giving up control." 
> 
> ~ Aby Wolf, "Align"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mildly graphic sexual content

Chapter 82: September 1, 1996, Hogwarts

“I feel like I just died and this is heaven.”

I looked over at Neville in amusement. He was stuffing his face with food on that morning of September first, enjoying the breakfast of scones and bacon a little too much.

“Why?” Harry asked grumpily, “We get the results today.”

“Yes, but for now, we are free,” Neville sighed dreamily, “For the next hour or so, we are free.”

“We’ve _been_ free for twelve hours –“

“During which we all _slept. The whole way through_ ,” Neville reminded.

“What a glorious rest that was,” I sighed dreamily, “No nightmares, no panic attacks, just blissful, blissful sleep…”

“I never want to think about school again,” Harry groaned, burying his face into his arms on the table.

“Isn’t the first day of term tomorrow?” Ron asked at the other end of our table – we didn’t keep to the houses when there were so few of us; Sam, Ginny, Luna, Elena, and Claire were all sitting nearby. His face noticeably paled as he asked that question. Blue, sitting next to me, perked up, her maw filled with bacon again. I looked at her and glared; she sheepishly released the bacon from her mouth onto the table. Ginny looked at the half swallowed bacon in disgust.

“Did you… forget what day it was?” Hermione asked in bemusement, waving her wand to clean up the bacon.

“I’m so tired,” he groaned, burying his face in his arms.

“This was cruel. This was cruel and unusual punishment,” Sam muttered darkly, staring down at his plate as though to murder it.

“Well, soon we’ll find out how we did, and then we have to decide on our courses with McGonagall, and then we have to go shopping, and then hopefully we’ll make it back for the feast,” Hermione sighed heavily.

“I am actually okay with not going on the Hogwarts Express. What would we do? Sit around and try to act normal with our peers?” I commented.

“Erm, like we’re going to have to tomorrow?” Harry muttered.

“Tonight,” Hermione reminded.

“Pushing it off,” I made a pushing motion, “We’re jumping off that bridge when we get to it.”

Neville grinned at me and kissed the side of my head. I laughed in appreciation and everyone around us groaned softly.

“Stop being so freaking adorable it should be a crime in two hundred countries,” Harry muttered groggily.

“None of the rest of us can be in relationships because you two have a monopoly on all the cute!” Hermione agreed.

“Too bad,” I laughed, grinning over at Neville, who beamed back at me. Everyone groaned louder.

“ _Stahp_ ,” Sam moaned into his hands.

“Never!” Neville grinned. I leaned up and kissed him and the collective groaning grew louder.

“Alright you lot,” I looked up to see McGonagall standing here, looking at us all sternly, “Your results should be here soon.”

“What?” Neville shouted in terror, “You said an hour!”

“I said _within_ the hour, Longbottom,” McGonagall shook her head in bemusement, “They say they finished grading the first one and the result should be compiled soon.”

“Is it in any particular order?” Hermione asked nervously.

“No,” McGonagall sighed, “Just whichever they could finish first. It’s completely random.”

“It’s the end of days,” Neville gasped.

“Oh my god just earlier you said it was heaven,” Harry laughed.

“Before we were _just about to get our results!_ ” Neville squeaked with nervousness. I gently placed a hand on his thigh, rubbing circles into it with my thumb, and he smiled at me thankfully.

McGonagall ducked back into the other room and we all watched her go with bated breath – well, Luna, Ginny, Claire, and Elena just got up and walked off to get some fresh air on the last day before school. I felt Neville slide his hand into mine and squeeze for dear life, and I squeezed back, feeling sorry for him as I felt how sweaty his palm was in mine.

She walked back out, holding an envelope, and said, “Sam Lee.”

“Fuck,” Sam groaned, getting up and stumbling towards McGonagall. He opened it, his hands visibly shaking, and he grinned.

“Yes!” he shouted, “Yes!”

“What?” we all asked in unison.

“Ten O.W.L.s! Each one I attempted,” Sam grinned widely, “Yes!”

“If you come with me, Mr. Lee, we’ll discuss your courses for the new term,” Professor Flitwick squeaked. Sam grinned and followed him, shouting, “See ya losers!” as he left.

“Well _that’s_ just not fair,” Harry grunted.

McGonagall shook her head at Harry and he grunted into his hands. We all watched nervously, and I could hear my heart pounding in my ears. She walked back into the antechamber and I gulped, looking up at Neville. He looked back down at me with equal fear.

It seemed like ages until she walked back out again. She looked out upon all of us and read, “Hermione Granger.”

Hermione squeaked and scurried over to her, grabbing the envelope and ripping it open.

“Oh yes!” she beamed, running over to me and shoving her paper in my face.

ORDINARY WIZARDING LEVEL RESULTS

_Pass Grades_

Outstanding (O)  
Exceeds Expectations (E)  
Acceptable (A)

_Fail Grades_

Poor (P)  
Dreadful (D)  
Troll (T)

_Hermione Jean Granger has achieved:_

Ancient Runes                                                                        O  
Arithmancy                                                                            O  
Astronomy                                                                             O  
Care of Magical Creatures                                                      O  
Charms                                                                                 O  
Defense Against the Dark Arts                                               E  
Herbology                                                                             O  
History of Magic                                                                    O  
Potions                                                                                 O  
Transfiguration                                                                     O

I looked up at her in amusement, “You’re disappointed you didn’t get an O in Defense, aren’t you?”

Hermione flushed madly. Harry started roaring with laughter. Neville was chuckling softly next to me.

“Miss Granger, we can discuss which courses you should take in the new term after I have finished handing back the results,” McGonagall stated. Hermione nodded, flushing madly and sitting back down.

“All of them,” I stated in amusement. Hermione stuck her tongue out at me.

“No, I will _not_ be continuing in quite a _few_ of these subjects, but –“

McGonagall had walked back inside and my heart was pounding again. I reached back out for Neville’s hand and squeezed it so tightly I was worried I’d break it. I had worked hard – and completely ignored my own mental health – for this.

McGonagall walked back out and I felt my breath catch in my throat as she read, “Ronald Weasley.”

“Oh you have _got_ to be kidding me,” I hissed under my breath. Neville patted me comfortingly on the shoulder, but his hand was shaking there.

Ron read his results and visibly sighed with relief, murmuring, “Seven O.W.L.s,” to us all and sitting back down to bury his head in his arms. I swallowed heavily and pushed my forehead into Neville’s chest, wrapping my arms tightly around his stomach.

Harry looked over at me as McGonagall disappeared, clearly clenching his jaw. He had spent his time not studying actually working out, which was amusing to watch, but as he was apparently going to be made Quidditch Captain that year, he wanted to look the part. The transformation was amusing, because muscles just sort of looked awkward on my brother’s body. Granted, I was muscular, but that was because I had spent a good portion of the past year learning a martial art – I wasn’t lifting dumbbells. It was a fundamentally different sort of musculature. And I was still curvy – my butt was still big, my hips were still wide, my stomach still had fat rolls, and my boobs were still much too huge. Harry had already been skinny, and now he just looked weirdly… societally-accepted attractive. It was bizarre.

Hermione and Neville hadn’t changed much – neither had I, but still. Hermione was still petite and skinny, but her breasts were slightly larger now than they had been before, but only slightly. Neville was still chubby and tall and large, but that was okay. I loved how soft he was. His hair was long and he had finally shaved the beard, and pretty much had a permanent layer of stubble on his face. As always, adorable.

I pulled up my foot to be on the bench and rested my head on my knee, nervously running my hands through my ponytail as I watched the door. She opened it and walked out, and my heart was in my throat again.

“Neville Longbottom.”

Neville’s face drained of all color. He looked at me and then back at McGonagall and whispered, “I can’t do it.”

I groaned and got up, taking the envelope from McGonagall before she could protest. I ripped it open and skimmed through the explanation part.

_Neville Archibald Longbottom has achieved:_

Arithmancy                                                               E  
Astronomy                                                                E  
Care of Magical Creatures                                         O  
Charms                                                                     E  
Defense Against the Dark Arts                                  O  
Herbology                                                                 O  
History of Magic                                                        P  
Potions                                                                      P  
Transfiguration                                                          E

I looked over at Neville and grinned at him, “You’re good!”

“Wha?” Neville breathed, looking up from his hands.

“Come on!” I laughed. He ran up to me and read his results.

“An E in Transfiguration?” he whispered. I nodded. He looked over at McGonagall, who was smiling.

“An _E in transfiguration?_ ” Neville shouted in amazement.

“I’m just as amazed as you are, but you must have worked hard,” McGonagall looked over at me in amusement, “And had a good teacher.”

I grinned at Neville, but he was already bouncing up and down, doing a slight dance around the Great Hall. McGonagall rolled her eyes and went back inside as I stared at her in fear. There was a fifty percent chance that I was next. Neville was too excited to comfort me, but honestly I couldn’t blame him. If you had told him this time last year he would have gotten an E in Transfiguration, he would have called you mental. Hermione was still beaming at her really not surprising results and I was now pacing outside of the door.

McGonagall came out again and Harry stood up, running to my side and looking terrified. I swallowed and my fingers were twitching at my sides and I was focusing on Neville’s face when I handed him the results.

McGonagall handed me the envelope without saying my name and I breathed in sharply, my fingers trembling as I opened the envelope and tore the parchment slightly.

_Margaret Natalie Johnson has achieved:_

Ancient Runes                                                         E  
Arithmancy                                                             O  
Astronomy                                                              E  
Care of Magical Creatures                                       O  
Charms                                                                   E  
Defense Against the Dark Arts                                 E  
Herbology                                                               O  
History of Magic                                                      P  
Potions                                                                    P  
Transfiguration                                                       O

“I got an E in charms?!” I shouted at the top of my lungs.

“Yes, Miss Johnson, good lord,” McGonagall gasped, looking at me in shock for my outburst.

“I did it!” I screamed, running over to where Neville was dancing still, and I tackled him in my excitement, wrapping my arms around his middle tightly and squeezing him as much as I could.

“We did it!” I cried, looking at him with happiness.

“We did it!” Neville agreed, spinning me around excitedly.

“Holy shite we did it!”  I breathed, and I buried my face deeply into his chest and just grinned.

“Wait how else did you do?” Neville asked then, grabbing my results from me and reading.

“Bloody hell, an O in _Arithmancy_?” Neville gasped. I shrugged, flushing madly.

“How in the _hell_ –“ Neville looked up then as Harry received his own results. He read them over and his face grew into a grin, and he ran over to us and handed them for us all to read. Hermione ran over as well to read all of ours, recovered from her moment of joy.

_Harry James Potter has achieved:_

Astronomy                                                                 E  
Care of Magical Creatures                                          E  
Charms                                                                      O  
Defense Against the Dark Arts                                   O  
Divination                                                                  P  
Herbology                                                                  E  
History of Magic                                                         P  
Potions                                                                       E  
Transfiguration                                                          E

“Woah! Harry, mate, good job!” Neville grinned. Harry beamed back.

“Alright, you lot, I’ll be taking you all alphabetically. That means you first, Miss Granger. Let’s do this fast,” McGonagall sighed, “We don’t have infinite time before the feast!”

I sat back down at the table, my feet tapping happily, given I would _definitely_ be allowed to do Spellweaving. I looked over at Neville and he beamed back at me, leaning in to kiss me probably a bit too passionately for the middle of the great hall.

“Oh bloody hell,” Harry groaned.

“Shove off,” I mumbled, kissing him deeper, pulling Neville as close to me as possible.

“This is _disgusting_ ,” Ron groaned.

“You just wish you had someone to snog,” Neville laughed, turning me around and holding me tightly in his arms. I laughed with him, smiling widely. It was really hard to not be happy when the weight of the world was off my shoulders for once and my Nev was holding me in his arms.

“No, no I in fact do not,” Ron snorted.

“Why?” Harry asked curiously as Neville buried his face happily in my hair.

“I dunno,” Ron frowned, “I think I might be aro and ace, but I’m not sure. Wouldn’t mind having someone to cuddle with but everything else just… is gross. It’s gross to me. Do not want.”

“Fair enough,” Harry grinned slightly, “I mean you’re already queer.”

“Oi!”

“Just joshing, mate,” Harry laughed silently.

“I know. I was saying oi at you _just_ saying I was queer,” Ron grinned slightly.

“Oh no,” I groaned.

“I am the _ultra_ queer,” Ron continued defensively.

“No no, that’s Ernie,” Sam stated, walking back into the Great Hall and sitting with us. Ron looked at Sam in outrage.

“You take that back!’

“Nope,” Sam shook his head.

“How is Ernie the ultra queer?” I asked curiously. Neville now was kissing the back of my head, his face still buried in my hair.

“He’s trans, _and_ hella gay,” Sam rolled his eyes, “How did you not know?”

“I only really got to know him in the DA,” I stated defensively, “We hardly ever talked before then.”

“Well, fair, but he wins, sorry Ron,” Sam grinned.

“How is being _gay_ more queer than being _ace **and** aro?_” Ron demanded defensively.

“Okay that’s just a matter of semantics,” Neville stated firmly, looking up from my hair, “I think you guys are probably tied for that one.”

“Ha!” Ron stated firmly.

“Perhaps being queer is not something that really can be quantified?” Harry offered.

“How would _you_ know?” the four of us laughed in unison.

“Sam, how the hell would _you_?” Harry responded defensively.

“I’m pan.”

“Bloody hell, am I _seriously the **only** –“ _

“I think George was,” I murmured softly.

“That is literally _the worst_ comparison you have _ever made_ in the _entirety of your life_ ,” Harry roared, “I am _outraged! Appalled!_ ”

“Everyone’s a little bit queer, sometimes!” Sam started singing.

“Valerie is straight I think,” I offered.

“Amazing,” Harry nodded, “Well that’s one decent person.”

“Angelina is definitely straight,” Ron said after shoveling some food into his mouth, “I know because Alicia asked her out and I was there for that…”

“Damn,” I sighed softly.

“You’re with me!” Neville laughed, looking at me in bemusement.

“Hey, Neville, I still have _eyes_ ,” I giggled.

“Cho was straight too,” Harry admitted, “Okay, fine, I guess I’m not _entirely_ alone.”

“I’m sure there are others as well,” I grinned.

“It _is_ kind of funny how many queer people are in our group of friends,” Neville snorted softly.

“I think it goes hand in hand with who we are,” Sam paused, “We reject society’s standards and assumptions.”

“Hear hear,” I cheered.

“Miss Johnson!” McGonagall called. I gave Neville a parting kiss and walked out of the Great Hall, passing Hermione, who looked very pleased indeed. She beamed at me and I beamed back at her, giving her a high five as I walked with McGonagall, up to her office. Blue was following me, because at this point, there was literally no way to get her to stop.

“Well,” McGonagall smiled at me, “I cannot say I’m not proud.”

I beamed back at her happily.

“With everything you’ve been through – everything that’s happened – and to achieve such a triumphant O.W.L. result – well, Maggie, I never want to hear you speak another word of self doubt again, because you clearly can get through anything,” McGonagall beamed. I laughed weakly.

“So what should I continue on with to be the Transfiguration Prof?” I asked, smiling at her. My joy at the results was slightly tinted.

_My parents would have been proud of me._

“Well, Transfiguration, _obviously_ ,” McGonagall smirked.

“I just figured I could quickly sit the transfiguration N.E.W.T. and be done with it,” I grinned slightly.

“I’m going to have to ask that you not,” McGonagall was smiling though, “Particularly because I have another surprise.”

“Oh?” I asked, frowning.

“You’re being nominated for _Transfiguration Today’s_ Most Promising Newcomer Award,” McGonagall was still smiling, which to most people I suppose would have been a strange sight, but at this point I was used to it, “An award I received myself.”

“Holy crap,” I breathed.

“Yes. Also, you’re on the short list for _this_ year, not next year,” McGonagall peered at me from her glasses, “Which doesn’t happen often.”

“Holy _shite_ ,” I repeated, my eyes wide.

“Well, I always put students’ names in at the start of their sixth and seventh years, so you were in there with a few of my other students,” McGonagall paused, “I think that between Blue and what happened to you last year, they feel sorry for you. Officially, no one knows that you are an animagus… still.”

“Should I register?” I offered meekly.

“It would probably help your chances of winning, but on the other hand, I’m still not so sure about the Ministry…” McGonagall paused thoughtfully.

“Well so far they haven’t tried anything new,” I sighed, “I mean, Umbridge and Fudge are in Azkaban, and Bones is the new Minister…”

“Yes, which is probably why you should register,” McGonagall paused, “Bones is _also_ a member of the Order.”

“Really?” I asked in surprise.

“Yes. Apparently her niece was aware of the Order due to a certain youth group she was a part of,” McGonagall was smirking slightly now.

“Well, then, I’ll register, if it’ll help my chances,” I stated calmly, “I would like to win.”

“It would open many doors for you, _and_ it would help your public reputation, which still isn’t… fantastic,” McGonagall admitted, “Just know that it is _very rare_ for someone to win in their sixth year…”

“Well I’ve already done research _and_ become an animagus,” I stated calmly.

“Which is why I think you’re on a very short list,” McGonagall nodded, “And why you can’t just take your Transfiguration N.E.W.T. They want to see you’re doing work during this year while they process your nomination.”

“Fair enough,” I smiled, “So, Transfiguration, and…?”

“Well, Spellweaving,” McGonagall smiled, “Flitwick was _very pleased_ and _very happy_ to let you in.”

I grinned wider.

“Beyond that, well, Arithmancy is something you’ve already used a lot in your work, so I would continue with that,” McGonagall paused.

“Alright,” I grinned.

“And I’m assuming Care of Magical Creatures, given your score, and your fascination with the subject matter?” McGonagall continued.

“Yup,” I nodded.

“Well beyond that it’s up to you. It’s typically expected that professors take more than four N.E.W.T.s. Also, I hate to say this, but you should continue with your charms,” McGonagall paused, looking at me sternly. I let out a deep, heavy sigh.

“Yeah, okay,” I groaned, “And… I’d like to keep on with Herbology?”

McGonagall rolled her eyes, “Of course.”

I blushed furiously, “Well, um, then I guess I’d also take Defense? Do I need more than seven subjects?”

“Seven subjects should be plenty,” McGonagall paused, “So Charms, Transfiguration, Herbology, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Care of Magical Creatures, Arithmancy, and Spellweaving?”

I nodded.

“Alright, that’s a good, respectable N.E.W.T. courseload. I do not believe much more needs to be said,” McGonagall paused thoughtfully, “Unless you have any more comments?”

I shook my head.

“Well, good job, again,” McGonagall paused, “Really and truly, you have accomplished something to be proud of.”

I nodded. I tried to not cry again.

“And your parents would have been,” McGonagall soothed softly. I wiped away a tear and nodded more, biting my lip to try and stop myself from crying.

“In that vein,” McGonagall paused, “Your friend Shae –“

“How is she?” I asked, frowning.

“She’s recovering post battle,” McGonagall acknowledged, “But she’s been given a new duty from the Order.”

“New duty?” I asked in confusion, “What about Halfling stuff?”

“We have some more American recruits who came over to help,” McGonagall paused, “She has a role that only she can play, and she’ll be working… a lot… to fulfill that role.”

“What is it?” I asked softly.

“She’ll be the Hogwarts therapist,” McGonagall nodded.

“You’re… kidding,” I breathed.

“I am not,” McGonagall paused, “And many of you all will receive _required_ counseling.”

“The ten of us still in school, definitely,” I agreed.

“Beyond that,” she sighed, “Umbridge’s hold on the school was… militaristic. She was… ruthless against the students closest to you lot,” McGonagall shook her head slowly, “There are some members of your… Defense Association… who will be required to have one on one counseling. And at the least, everyone will be required to go to Group Counseling.”

“Oh geez,” I whispered.

“Dumbledore and I are confident that it’ll be more help than us professors trying to do something we aren’t trained to do,” McGonagall justified.

“Well, you’re probably not wrong,” I admitted.

“At any rate, I think we’re done here. I’ll go collect Longbottom,” McGonagall rolled her eyes. I followed her out of her office and back down towards the Great Hall, Blue scurrying behind us and looking at us curiously. I reached down and pet her as we walked back into the hall. Neville got up and walked towards us, and I leaned up and gave him a kiss as he walked, making McGonagall snort in amusement as well as impatience.

“Come _on_ now, Longbottom,” she urged, Neville holding onto my waist for a little too long. I giggled and he grinned at me before following her to her office.

“So what will you be taking?” Hermione asked eagerly.

“Transfiguration, Spellweaving, Arithmancy, Care of Magical Creatures, Herbology, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and somehow Charms,” I admitted the last one through gritted teeth.

“This is hilarious,” Harry roared with laughter nearby.

“Oh shove off,” I stuck my tongue out at him, “You’re probably going to continue with _potions_.”

Harry’s face fell dramatically and Hermione immediately started giggling behind her hand.

“You?” I asked her, smirking.

“Charms, Transfiguration, Herbology, Defense, Ancient Runes, Potions, Arithmancy, and Spellweaving,” Hermione beamed.

“Eight classes?” Harry shouted.

“You’re going to die,” I commented calmly.

“No, I am going to _learn_ ,” Hermione rolled her eyes.

“I’m just glad you’re in Spellweaving,” I beamed, “Wouldn’t want to do that one alone.”

“Oi, I’m in that too, idiots,” Sam shouted, grinning at all of us.

“You’re kidding?” Hermione asked.

“Only five people get to do it every year!” I shouted.

“Yeah, and I’m one of the five,” Sam grinned wider, “You all always forget I’m usually second or third in terms of scores in our year.”

“He… has a point,” Harry admitted.

“So what else are you doing then?” I smirked.

“Charms, Transfiguration, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Ancient Runes, Potions, Care of Magical Creatures, Spellweaving, and Medicinal Magic,” Sam shrugged.

“Medicinal?” I asked in confusion.

“You’re doing that one? McGonagall asked me if I wanted to but I thought the better of it,” Hermione frowned.

“I want to be a Healer,” Sam admitted, “Always have.”

“Well if you learn anything particularly useful, feel free to share,” Harry snorted, “Lord knows we could all use the help in that.”

“Of course,” Sam rolled his eyes.

“What other special courses do they offer?” I asked curiously.

“Well Spellweaving is offered to people who excel in Transfiguration and do well enough in Charms; Medicinal Magic is offered to people who excel in Potions, Herbology, and Defense, and do well enough in Magical Creatures and Charms and Transfiguration; Alchemy is offered to those who do excel in Potions and do well enough in Herbology; and Wandlore is offered to those who excel in Charms, History of Magic, Arithmancy, Ancient Runes, and Transfiguration,” Hermione explained calmly.

“So you were offered to do all of them,” I grinned cheekily.

“Well _yes_ but I knew I couldn’t take _all of them_ and Spellweaving seemed useful,” Hermione flushed.

“I understand why Medicinal requires so much – I mean you have to be able to deal with so many different causes of illness – but why is Wandlore the other heavy one?” Harry asked curiously.

“Do you realize how much work it takes to make a wand?” Hermione snorted.

“I’m surprised Astronomy isn’t really needed for anything,” I frowned.

“Neither is Muggle Studies,” Sam rolled his eyes, “ _So_ glad I’m done with that.”

“You’re just going to die instead,” Hermione smirked at him.

“So are you!” Sam protested. She stuck her tongue out at him and he grinned. Harry watched the exchange in utter confusion.

Neville walked back in then, looking at me with a smile. Ron, who had been napping silently on the table, apparently had woken up at that moment just to groan. Harry followed McGonagall wordlessly out of the room.

“So?” I asked him eagerly, walking up to him and wrapping my arms around his waist.

“Charms, Herbology, Defense, Creatures, Arithmancy, and…” Neville swallowed, “ _Transfiguration_.”

“You’re _kidding_ ,” Hermione snorted.

“I got an E. That’s all she wanted,” Neville groaned softly, “And I figured… well it’s important.”

“You figured, I want more time with Maggie,” Sam sniggered.

“Oh shove off,” Neville muttered, “She helps me understand it. And I did well on my O.W.L. Why not keep going?”

“All very good reasons,” I grinned at him. He cupped the left side of my face in his right hand and pulled me up for a kiss, his fingers entangling in my hair as much as they could, given its current state in a ponytail.

“Oh god stop the madness,” Sam begged. I lifted up my hand and flicked him off, making him roar with laughter.

“Sam, you weren’t friends with Neville since first year,” Hermione groaned, “He’s been _intolerable_ until now.”

“Oi!” Neville shouted, pulling back from our kiss, though I made sounds of protest.

“You heard me! Constantly pining over Maggie, you two getting together was literally _the best thing_ that’s ever happened to me,” Hermione stated honestly.

“Oi!” Neville shouted louder.

“It was _three times as bad_ when Maggie started pining after you, of course,” Hermione shook her head, “Because then I had _twice the pining_ and on _top of it_ I kept _telling you you just had to do certain things and then you’d be happy_ and you both _bloody ignored me._ ”

“OI!” We both shouted in unison as Sam fell on the floor laughing.

“Fine, you’re right, this is better,” he managed to gasp out.

“Bloody idiots,” Hermione muttered mutinously.

“Well, we could destroy your world in a heartbeat, so don’t go complaining too much,” I grinned.

Hermione’s face noticeably paled, a feat given her pallor.

“Wait what? How could you shatter her world? Tell me!” Sam demanded eagerly.

“Nope,” Neville grinned.

“We’re good friends, we’d _never_ do that,” I giggled.

“I hate both of you,” Hermione hissed.

“No you don’t,” Neville teased.

“In fact you _love_ us,” I grinned.

“Don’t take advantage of it!” Hermione groaned.

“Oh come on guys!” Sam begged.

“Nope, we promised,” Neville shrugged.

“I feel so out of the loop,” Sam groaned.

“Welcome to my life,” Ron muttered sleepily.

Harry walked back in then and Ron got up, groggily following McGonagall out of the room.

“Taking Charms, Transfiguration, Herbology, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Potions,” Harry shrugged, “Just what I need to be an Auror.”

“And whatever that thing is with Dumbledore that you need to do,” Hermione pointed out.

“True,” Harry admitted, “I dunno, I just feel like a slacker compared to you lot.”

“Well, Neville and I want to be _professors_ , Sam wants to be a _healer_ , and Hermione is Hermione,” I reminded him, “You really are taking a normal course load, and _we_ are all insane.”

“Fair enough,” Harry agreed, “Thanks Mags.”

“No problem,” I beamed. It had taken a lot of talking, but we were back to something similar to what we once had been, just older, more mature, and more cynical. He walked up to me and hugged me, and we grinned at each other for a while.

“Where are the other girls?” Hermione asked curiously, “They’re going to need to come with to Diagon Alley.”

“I’ll go find ‘em,” Sam offered, getting up and going out to the grounds. Harry went and sat down with Hermione, actually leaning over and resting his head on her shoulder and closing his eyes, which was amusing for a variety of reasons: he was more than half a foot taller than her, he was _significantly_ bigger than her _even before gaining muscles_ , he always looked like he would fall off when he did this, he was _very_ dopy looking when he slept, and the _look on Hermione’s face was priceless_.

“So our fellow students are traumatized too, apparently,” Neville stated grimly.

“Yeah, that’ll be interesting,” Hermione sighed.

“We haven’t seen _any_ of them since we left in _February_ ,” I swallowed, “I wonder what happened to them all?”

“Terrible things apparently,” Harry mumbled sleepily.

“I hope we didn’t screw them all up completely,” Hermione whispered sadly.

“Well,” Neville paused, “They all knew what they were getting into.”

I nodded sadly, looking over at him. His eyes met mine and I chose to get lost in them rather than think of the severity of our friends’ troubles. Hermione snorted nearby.

“Honestly you two have gotten more nauseating during remedial O.W.L.s than ever before,” she admitted, “Ron and Sam aren’t overreacting.”

“I almost died,” I pointed out calmly.

“I _saw her near-corpse_ ,” Neville agreed.

“And he almost died,” I actually pointed my thumb at him.

“She saw _my near-corpse_ ,” Neville clarified.

“That’s enough to make anyone… like this,” I finished.

“Well, fair, but I’m just warning you, children are coming,” Hermione rolled her eyes, “ _Eleven year olds_.”

“We’ll keep it PG in the outside world,” Neville grinned. I looked at him and wiggled my eyebrows, and he leaned in to kiss me again, now wrapping his arms around my waist to pull me in closer to him.

“Oh _bloody hell_ ,” Ginny groaned as she and the others walked inside, “ _There are children here!_ ”

“We’re nearly fourteen, we aren’t _children_ ,” Elena scoffed.

“You are children,” Ginny insisted.

“Harry, Neville, and Maggie had all defeated a _basilisk_ when they started third year!” Claire reminded.

“Children,” Ginny shook her head.

“Do you just _need_ us to be children so that you can maintain your worldview?” Elena asked, rolling her eyes and sitting down at the table.

“Yes,” Ginny answered honestly.

“Oh my _god_ ,” Claire groaned, holding her face in her hands.

I looked over at Elena. She smiled weakly back at me. While dealing with the death of our parents wasn’t exactly _easy_ for her (or for any of us,) she had taken it better than I had feared.

“Well, Maggie,” she had said soon after we had started make-up school, “Let’s look at this logically… it’s war. People are lost. Our parents were huge members of the resistance against Voldy-Pants… They were Harry’s adopted parents… odds were, they were going to die.”

None of us had thought it would be this _soon_ , and **that** was the truly surprising part.

Ron came out with McGonagall then, and we all went together towards the nearest floo-able fireplace, heading in and shouting out _Diagon Alley!_ As we did so.

Shopping for the things we needed wasn’t hard; we all knew we had a limited amount of time to spend in the Alley, and so we all went relatively quickly. Ron, it turned out, was taking the same N.E.W.T.s as Harry; he also wanted to be an Auror, after everything that had happened.

I was just glad I had done what I had needed to… no, _more_ than what I had needed to… to be allowed into the Spellweaving Class.

We then flooed back to Hogwarts, still early for the feast; it would be a few hours yet before everyone got there.

“Well you lot should go and change into your robs,” McGonagall instructed, “Be ready for when they all get here. Don’t dawdle, now.”

“Yes,” Sam rolled his eyes sarcastically, and McGonagall pressed her mouth into a thin line as he walked off with Luna to the Ravenclaw tower. I walked hand-in-hand with Neville to our room, which was still there, miraculously – Umbridge had never been able to figure out how to get in, and thank goodness, because if she had she would have destroyed it.

Blue was inside, napping, having been left there while went shopping; she looked up at us as we entered and chirped happily. I walked up to her and scratched her behind the ears, enjoying the feeling of her soft feathers between my fingers.

“How are you doing Mags?” Neville asked me softly. I looked up at him and shrugged.

“I’m nervous about seeing everyone. They went through hell, too,” I whispered.

“Yeah,” Neville agreed, “But we’ll all get through it.”

I walked up to him and wrapped my arms tightly around his stomach. He held me back just as tightly.

“Are you excited to start working on your extractions again?” I asked him.

“Fuck yeah,” he laughed against my head, “My god, Sprout couldn’t really refine on her own, she doesn’t know enough about muggle science, she’s just been rearing them normally… do you _realize_ how many _generations_ Umbridge cost me? How many extra refinements of the protein? I lost _so much time_!” Neville groaned.

“I’m sorry love,” I murmured, reaching up and caressing his face. He sighed happily, and I wrapped my arms around his neck and buried my hands in his long curly hair. He wrapped his arms around my waist and lifted me up slightly, hiking up my blue tank top a little. His green flannel shirt was soft and I enjoyed feeling it against my arms, but as I rested my nose against his and closed my eyes blissfully, I knew it wasn’t enough for me. I pulled him into a kiss and started shrugging the flannel off of his shoulders.

**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**

He sighed happily into the kiss and was more than eager to pull my tank top off my torso. I helped him with his white t-shirt, and he reached for my bra before suddenly hesitating.

“What?” I asked breathlessly, trailing kisses down his neck. He groaned softly and I giggled as his stubble tickled my face.

“We have to get ready –“ he protested halfheartedly.

“We have a few hours!” I reminded him.

“Yeah but we take our time,” Neville insisted, but I was pushing him down onto the bed now, kissing him passionately. He groaned and flipped us so he was on top of me, now, kissing me deeply and groaning needfully into my mouth. I could feel his hips grinding lightly against mine and I grinned into the kisses, making him remember himself.

“We take a few hours!” Neville breathed heavily, his face visibly torn.

“Eh so we’ll be a bit late –“ I grinned.

“And smelling like sex!” Neville groaned as I ran my hands over his back.

“Alright, then let’s have a quicky,” I grinned wider.

“Mags, maybe that would work if we were – I dunno – doing the heteronormative definition of sex,” Neville groaned softly as I managed to latch onto his neck with my lips and suck on it, “But we’ve _tried_ having a quicky with what we’re doing now and – _mmmmph_ –“

He could never ignore me sucking on his neck. I giggled quietly and latched onto another portion of his neck, sucking even harder.

“We were – we were late for Herbology,” Neville squeaked.

“Eh, it was just Herbology,” I smirked.

“We clearly had just done – na – _ahhh_ – ughty things!” Neville groaned.

“Who cares,” I giggled.

“I care! I’m trying to impress – hhhng – _Mags_ –“ Neville was whimpering now, his hands massaging my breasts despite himself.

“Mags when we did that you were horny the entire time we were in Herbology – it didn’t actually satisfy either of us, we just wanted more – Mags – Mags you know – for us – it’s just as much the intimacy as it is –“ Neville was spluttering, looking at me with the most torn expression on his face. I grinned again.

“I know,” I laughed.

“We won’t be satisfied with a quicky, you know that,” he begged, his hands still massaging my breasts.

“I do know that,” I giggled uncontrollably.

“But then – we’d be – we’d be frustrated throughout dinner – seeing our friends for the first time in nearly a year –“ Neville sputtered.

“Eh, how would they be able to tell?” I asked, grinning.

“When you’re horny you’re basically plastered to me!” Neville protested.

“You don’t like that?” I giggled.

“I _love_ it – bloody hell,” Neville groaned, burying his face in the mattress next to me. I giggled louder.

“I spent five years wanting you,” he whispered into the mattress, “I want to be with you _all the time_ , you know that.”

I reached over and pulled his face out of the mattress, stroking his cheek lovingly with my thumb, murmuring, “I know.”

“I just think – we should be – not – I want to pay attention to our friends,” Neville stated calmly, clearly eased by my caresses.

“Oh alright,” I smirked, leaning in and kissing him. He smiled into the kiss and got up, wandering over to get dressed.

“Time to wear that bloody uniform again,” he muttered angrily.

“Maybe McGonagall will let you wear a uniform skirt?” I asked kindly, a mischievous thought entering my brain. I put on my skirt but, while he wasn’t looking, took off my underwear and sneakily hid it in the laundry basket.

**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**

“Maybe,” Neville muttered softly, “I hope so. Just occasionally.”

“I’m sure she will,” I reassured, buttoning up my blouse and smiling at him. He smiled weakly back at me.

“I want to explore, now. The whole school knows. Might as well enjoy myself,” Neville shrugged.

“I want you to explore too,” I agreed. I walked up to him and wrapped my arms lovingly around his waist. He held tightly to me, his face buried in my hair.

“Thank you for being so unbelievably supportive,” Neville mumbled weakly.

“Neville, I love _you_ ,” I reassured in response, pulling back and looking at him, “That means I would do anything to make you happy. And I want you to be happy. And I want you to be yourself.”

Neville was crying openly now and I sat down on the bed with him, holding his face to my bosom. He sobbed there for a while and I was glad I hadn’t finished buttoning my blouse yet – better that he get water on my bra and cami than on the blouse that everyone would see.

“I love you so much,” he whispered into my breasts. I gently stroked his hair and ran my fingers through the curls, leaning down to kiss the top of his head. He sighed and I pulled him up to look at me. His eyes were red and splotchy.

“Your Gran just wants you to conform to her vision of how the world works and who you should be in it. That’s how she’s been your whole life,” I swallowed, feeling terrible for saying these words, “And you should not use her as a barometer for how you should be treated.”

He immediately reached out and grabbed my face in his hands and pulled me in for a long and deep kiss. I squeaked with surprise and suddenly he was pulling me down on top of him on the bed, and was kissing me so furiously I briefly forgot how one properly thinks.

“Nev!” I gasped into his mouth, but he didn’t respond to me, only continued to kiss me passionately and desperately, his hands still on my cheeks and his legs wrapped around mine.

“I was abused my entire childhood,” he mumbled, pulling back from me, “You were the first person to treat me like a person.”

I swallowed, looking at him in concern. I knew this, but the words hit me very hard.

“We’re too attached to each other,” he whispered, mirroring my thoughts.

“Yeah,” I admitted, “I don’t know what to do about it.”

Neville looked down at me sadly, “I don’t think there’s anything we can do right now. We’re in the middle of war. We don’t… we don’t have time to try and… I need you…”

“I need you,” I responded hoarsely, “I just… I nearly died when you nearly died.”

“Same,” he acknowledged sadly.

“That’s not good.”

“No, no it’s not.”

We started at each other for a long time. Neither of us could come up with a solution. I reached up and stroked his face again.

“I guess, for now, we die,” I whispered quietly. He let out a small broken sound and pressed his forehead into mine.

“You should never die. The world needs you. The world deserves you,” he mumbled.

“The world needs you, and you should never die,” I insisted.

“Well then I guess we both better live,” he chuckled weakly.

“Easier said than done,” I reminded him, tears leaking from my eyes. He immediately kissed them away, making me laugh softly, and he trailed kisses back to my mouth, moving his eagerly against mine. I suppose he was done talking about this, and I knew that I really couldn’t think about it anymore either.

**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**

He wrapped me up in his arms as tightly as possible so that I was partially lifted off of the bed, pulled up into his embrace as he kissed me frenziedly and desperately, his lips moving rapidly against mine and leaving me breathless. I dove my fingers into his hair and pulled on it slightly, making him groan into my mouth and clutch me tighter to him. His left hand started caressing my side, eagerly wandering down to my hip and holding onto it, making me moan softly into his mouth. He groaned in response, and his hand moved down to caress my thigh, running back up the inside of it and pushing up my skirt with it. I couldn’t help it; I giggled. He pulled back from me in confusion at that, his hand only a few inches away from where it was very obvious that I wasn’t wearing panties.

“What’s so funny?” he asked curiously, frowning at me.

“Well just earlier you were saying that we didn’t have time for this,” I lied smoothly, biting my lip slightly to hold back my laughter.

“You’re right, I did,” Neville admitted, “I would have thought you’d be happy about my lack of self-control, though.”

“Oh I definitely am,” I beamed at him.

“So you’re… giggling,” he states suspiciously.

“Yup!” I leaned in for a kiss, but he pulled back from me.

“What are you hiding,” he continued, his eyes completely narrowed now, his brow scrunched up in concentration.

“Nothing!” I responded too innocently.

“ _Maggie_ ,” Neville stated sternly.

“Nothing!” I repeated, getting up and sticking my tongue out at him, “Fine, if you’re going to be so suspicious. Let’s go down.”

“ _Maggie_ ,” Neville repeated, grabbing my arm. I looked back at him and smiled, buttoning up my blouse.

“Why are you so paranoid?” I giggled.

“Because you are currently laughing your _I’m being mischievous_ laugh,” Neville rolled his eyes.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I beamed at him, “Come on now, finish getting dressed.”

Neville watched me suspiciously, buttoning up his shirt and pulling on his tie and frowning at me. I beamed at him and pulled on my sweater over my tie and blouse, nodding at him to do the same. He did all of his dressing slowly, his eyes narrowed at me as I pulled on my cloak and basically skipped out of the room.

“What _are you hiding_?” he shouted as Blue followed me, and I laughed louder in the corridor, pulling up my knee socks higher towards my knee. He watched me, still frowning, his arms folded across his chest.

“Why do you _insist_ that I am hiding something?” I retorted, grinning.

“Because you are acting very suspicious, and I know you better than anyone,” Neville squinted his eyes together very tightly, staring at me intently.

“Don’t worry Nev,” I beamed wider, “Nothing is wrong.”

His eyes, somehow, squished tighter, “Now I am _truly_ suspicious.”

I laughed louder and skipped down the corridor towards the Great Hall. Neville ran after me, Blue scurrying with us in confusion, and he grabbed onto my arm and pulled me into a side corridor.

“ _Mags_ ,” he begged, looking at me in frustration. I grinned at him and pulled him in for a kiss, placing my hands lovingly in his hair. He groaned into my lips and kissed me, unable to resist my charms, and I was giggling into his lips.

“Maggie you are a tortuous witch,” Neville groaned as I started trailing kisses down his neck. I wanted him to find out and be frustrated throughout dinner. I wanted to be amused and giggle and laugh… because odds were that seeing our friends again would make me less than joyful.

I started sucking on his neck, and he could _never_ control himself when I did that; his right hand was on my breast again, and his left was caressing the side of my thigh, going up towards my butt – I tried to control my laugh as he reached it –

“Wha’?” he asked in confusion, pulling back from kissing me in confusion as his hand went up to cup my completely naked butt cheek.

“Where’s your – where are your knickers?” he frowned, his hand tracing around to my front, gently tracing against my abdomen and then clit, making me sigh softly. He groaned loudly and suddenly his finger was inside of me, and I squeaked with surprise before moaning softly into his mouth. He started pressing his finger desperately on the good spot, so fast that I couldn’t help but cry out loudly. He quickly muffled the sound with a kiss, his eyes wide, and he pulled back from me in alarm.

“What the bloody hell -?!” he hissed, looking at me in shock. I burst into, admittedly, weak, laughter, my entire body calling out for him to come back.

“Surprise!” I giggled.

“You are _evil_!” he groaned, walking away from me and into the Great Hall, shouting “EVIL!” I followed him, skipping again, off to the Gryffindor Table. He was sitting down already, his face in his hands, groaning softly. I sat next to him and looked at him in concern.

**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**

“You are evil,” he repeated desperately into his hands.

“I love you too,” I giggled, making sure to actually cross my legs for once.

“Seriously, evil,” he looked up and at me, his eyes dark with lust but his lips pressed thin with irritation. I beamed at him and his face softened despite himself, pulling me in for a kiss.

“Oi, you two aren’t in your room,” Harry shouted loudly. I looked up and grinned at him as he sat down.

“Your sister is evil,” Neville responded, shaking his head in bemusement.

“And water is wet?” Harry smirked, looking at us from across the table in amusement.

“Just… needed to be said,” Neville grunted.

“I am not going to press that issue,” Harry shook his head in bemusement. Hermione walked in then, sitting next to him and across from me, looking at the proceedings curiously.

“Don’t ask, apparently,” Harry shook his head more still, and Hermione rolled her eyes. Ginny sat next to her, and Ron across from Ginny next to me, both of them immediately launching into a discussion about the Gryffindor Quidditch Team this year.

Sam sat next to Neville and I looked at him in confusion.

“Oh, right,” Sam groaned, “I have to sit at a different table.”

“Friendly reminder that this school has strange arbitrary divisions between students,” Ginny giggled.

“Bloody hell, do I _have_ to?” Sam demanded, “Talk about the last thing I want to do…”

“It’ll be good for you,” Hermione scoffed.

“In _what universe_ –“

“Come on, Samuel, come on,” Luna soothed. Sam got up, grumbling, and followed her to the Ravenclaw table.

“Poor Sam,” Hermione sniggered. Harry looked at her in confusion.

“What? You spend a few months alone with someone, you get to know them pretty damn well,” Hermione frowned back at him.

“Right,” Harry stated calmly, but he turned back to the table with a frown. Ginny looked at me and I saw a strange emotion reflected back at me, one that I wasn’t quite sure I understood.

“So they should get here… soon,” Hermione stated, frowning at her watch.

“Oh god,” Neville groaned nervously.

“It’ll be okay,” I reassured softly. He looked at me, slightly glaring at me, probably still residually frustrated from our earlier adventures. Still, he couldn’t be mad at me for long, and he leaned in to press my nose to mine for a minute.

“Why are you nervous?” Ron asked in confusion.

“We left them all behind to a freakish hellscape?” Neville reminded, pulling back from me to frown at Ron.

“Well, I mean, we left them behind to live _in_ a freakish hellscape,” Ron reminded.

“He has a point,” Hermione admitted.

“Doesn’t stop me from feeling bad –“ Neville began, when suddenly a voice rang from the other end of the hall.

“YOU _ARE_ BACK!”

We all looked to see Ernie running in frantically towards us, stopping to look back and forth between us all, torn, his arms partially open for a hug. His face had many more scars than when we had last seen him, but, I suppose, so did our faces.

Following behind him, walking much more normally but still grinning, were Nadia and Valerie. Valerie immediately ran to hug Claire, not even hesitating. Nadia beamed at us, tears in her eyes, her face also scarred.

“You’re here!” she smiled, looking immensely pleased.

“We are!” Ginny grinned.

“Oh fuck it,” Ernie groaned, and he pulled up Hermione into a hug. She laughed loudly. The rest of us got up and leapt over the table if we had to (me and Neville and Ron) to hug them as well. Valerie came back, with Elena and Claire, and Sam and Luna ran over as well, and we were all hugging each other excitedly.

Soon after Hannah, Susan, Justin, Cho, Katherine, Peter, and Colin were running in and joining in the hugs. I was horrified to see that little Katherine and Peter had the most scars out of everyone in the entirety of the group. More people not from Dumbledore’s Army were trickling in now, but the Dumbledore’s Army group only continued to grow larger. Dean ran up and tackled Neville in a hug. Seamus was high fiving Ron happily. Katie was crying and holding onto Harry’s arm happily. Michael, Anthony, Terry, Chris, Sally-Anne, and the Patil twins were all talking to Sam, much to his bemusement. Lavendar was hesitantly walking over and smiling at Hermione with Siobhan, both clearly glad we were back. Asgar, Vanessa, Dennis, Rick, Astoria, and Kim were eagerly chatting with Elena and hugging her and Claire. Joshua, Maria, Nikko, and Ada were all eagerly coming up to Luna and hugging her. It was amazing the number of people who were coming to greet us and basically attacking us, and I could actually feel tears leak from my eyes as I was hugged by more people than had ever done so in my life.

“We thought you wouldn’t be able to come back!” Nadia finally shouted after everyone started to calm down from the initial reunion.

“Are you kidding? They moved heaven and earth so we could,” Harry snorted.

“We studied for and took our O.W.L.s in a month and a half,” Ron stated in horror, looking like he was going to vomit.

“Oh my _god_ ,” Ernie gasped.

“How are you not _dead_?” Katie demanded in shock.

“I’m not entirely sure,” I laughed.

“Amazing,” Dean shook his head in bemusement, “Simply amazing.”

“What happened to you all here?” Neville asked, looking at Ernie in worry.

“Oh please, you have to tell us what happened on the run – we don’t know _anything_ –“ Ernie shook his head.

“Nor do we!” Elena piped up.

“Well then – “ Peter began, but Katherine cut him off.

“Oh for your sake, you know perfectly well the feast is about to start and they’ll split us up based on houses,” she rolled her eyes.

“Was that a fucking _pun_ –“ Peter groaned.

“She’s right though, we better go to our proper tables,” Nadia sighed.

“Leave it to the new Head Girl to be a party pooper,” Valerie scoffed.

“Well am I _wrong_ –“

“Screw house tables,” I muttered in annoyance.

“We haven’t seen you guys since _February_ –“ Harry agreed.

“This is fairly ridiculous,” Terry nodded.

“Settle down! All of you!” McGonagall called from the front of the hall. We all looked and collectively glared at her, a conglomerate of students reunited after hell.

“Go to your house tables!” she insisted, shaking her head and smirking in amazement.

“Make us!” I hissed softly, but everyone around me started giggling.

“ _Now_ , you lot!” McGonagall insisted. Everyone groaned and I went to sit down again, though Neville looked considerably more cheered.

We’d play catch up that evening. For now, we were just happy to all be back together again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOOOOOO BOOK SIX 
> 
> I actually spent a good portion of time plotting out book six and seven. You thought book five was long?
> 
> Book six will probably be longer... As evidenced by the fact that September 1st is TWO CHAPTERS... 
> 
> And Book seven will DEFINITELY be TWICE AS LONG as book six 
> 
> Also I am proud of how everything managed to tie together narratively 
> 
> Like, this shit is going to get POETIC 
> 
> So get excited, and PLEASE comment!


	84. Chapter Eight-Three: September 1st, 1996, Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'm better 
> 
> So much better now 
> 
> I see the light, touch the light 
> 
> We're together now 
> 
> I'm better 
> 
> So much better now 
> 
> Look to the skies, give me life 
> 
> We're together now 
> 
> We've only just begun 
> 
> Hypnotized by drums 
> 
> Until forever comes 
> 
> You'll find us chasing the sun 
> 
> They said this day wouldn't come 
> 
> We refused to run 
> 
> We've only just begun 
> 
> You'll find us chasing the sun." 
> 
> ~ The Wanted, "Chasing the Sun"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for graphic sexual content at the end and extensive descriptions of torture, misgendering, and abusive treatment in the middle.

Chapter 83: September 1, 1996, Hogwarts

The feast was, honestly, uninteresting. A new crop of first years, who looked at the scars and ruggedness of the upperclassmen with fear and awe. A speech from Dumbledore, well received by the crowd of students who had missed him during Umbridge’s regime. An introduction of Slughorn, which received no response; and of Sirius, which still came along with fear and terror from the more persistent students. Me and the other members of “The Twelve,” as we had been popularly known in the Daily Prophet during our flight (thought we had _very quickly_ become The Eleven and then two groups of Four,) were stared at especially much, making me feel like I was burning up in the spot.

“We are _never_ going to be invisible,” Harry groaned after a while as we were all eating at last.

“Harry you lost your ability to be invisible when Voldemort targeted you as an infant,” Hermione responded brusquely.

“I beg to differ!” Neville laughed. Hermione looked at him sternly.

“There’s the invisibility cloak!” Neville grinned.

“Irony of ironies: the man most able to be invisible is still somehow the least,” I giggled.

“It is probably the most ironic portion of my existence,” Harry acknowledged grumpily.

“Don’t say that, fate will find another irony to shove into your face,” Hermione groaned.

“She has a point,” Neville pointed out.

“I’ll take my chance with this ‘fate’ concept,” Harry made finger quotes in the air.

“ _There’s an entire prophecy surrounding your existence!_ ” I snorted.

“Exactly,” Harry agreed.

“ _What_ ,” Neville snorted.

“You get me,” Harry nodded, smirking despite himself.

“That didn’t make any sense!” Neville insisted.

“You gotta think about it,” Harry grinned.

“The man is crazy,” Hermione shook her head in bemusement.

“Can you blame him?” I offered.

“We’re all crazy at this point,” Neville agreed.

Hermione opened her mouth to say something, but closed it again silently. She had no real retort.

“So what does the D.A. become now that we have a real DADA teacher?” I asked after a while, frowning at Harry.

“What we wanted it to be in the first place?” he offered.

“Our revolutionary group?” Hermione looked at him incredulously, “Now?”

“Why not now?” Harry shrugged, “We did some of it last year. It’s time we got back into it.”

“Hear hear!” Neville agreed joyfully.

“I mean they’d have to be up for it but I don’t see why not,” I agreed.

“Well... I just… I figured we’d all want to be a little more incognito,” Hermione admitted, “Just because of how terrible everything was last year.”

“I think that’s the exact reason why we _won’t_ want to,” Harry countered.

“You’re probably right,” Hermione agreed, “And I really hope you are. I’m just… worried. About what they all went through at the hands of the great toad.”

“If I know anything about that lot,” I stated decisively, “It’s that they will only want to work harder because of that.”

“Hell yeah we will,” Ginny agreed, turning to us and nodded furiously.

“Ginny you barely count,” Hermione smirked.

“Well, _I_ would,” Dean offered across from her.

“Fair enough,” Hermione beamed at him joyfully.

“We’ll talk more after the feast, eh?” Parvati offered, smiling slightly. I turned back to my pudding, bouncing slightly with delight.

Dinner ended, and the members of the DA who still wanted to be a part of it – our friends – all congregated silently, walking through the corridors up towards the Room of Requirement. We ten headed the procession, and I looked up at Neville who was holding my hand tightly, smiling at him eagerly. He leaned down and kissed me as we walked, and I couldn’t help but smile wider.

We entered the room and I sat down on the floor on a beanbag chair, basically sitting in Neville’s lap, nestled in his embrace. Harry looked at me questioningly.

“I think we should let Ernie and the others say what happened to them first, yeah?” I asked, smiling slightly.

“Good idea,” Harry agreed, sitting down. Ernie went to stand in the front of the room awkwardly, followed by Nadia and Katherine and Dean.

“So…” Ernie paused, swallowing, “So when you left, Umbridge took complete control of the school.”

“Basically established it as a dictatorship,” Nadia nodded, “She… it was horrible. She took all of us in for detention almost every night.”

“She imposed a _lot_ of new rules – almost none of the classes were allowed to have practical magic anymore, it’s a miracle we passed our O.W.L.s,” Dean sighed.

“The first week after you all left, she took each one of us in for questioning,” Katherine, a usually very quiet girl, muttered angrily, “We each were placed under the cruciatus curse. Terry nearly went insane.”

“I said one thing about how smart I thought Hermione was and she just went batshit,” Terry muttered, fumbling nervously with his sleeve cuffs. Hermione looked at him, clearly sincerely touched; Harry watched this exchange with somewhat narrowed eyes that made me frown.

“We didn’t really know what to do to try and overthrow her. All the other professors were just doing what they could to get by, and not get fired,” Nadia shook her head sadly, “She brought in these two dunderheads from the Ministry to take over Transfiguration and Potions – and then she fired Hagrid and Grubbly-Plank came back…”

“The second week, I started just… straight up writing on the walls of the school,” Ernie shook his head, “I would just go around painting things on the corridor walls, in as messy writing as possible. I was a prefect, so I was allowed out… and she could never _definitely_ know it was me… and I wrote stuff like ‘LONG LIVE THE TWELVE,’ ‘VOLDEMORT IS BACK,’ ‘MAGGIE WAS ATTACKED,’ ‘DUMBLEDORE IS INNOCENT,’ that sort of thing…”

“So she _knew_ it was one of us,” Nadia confirmed, tucking a strand of black hair back into her hijab, “And she took in Ernie and basically started using sectumsempra on him…”

“That would be these lovely scars,” Ernie pointed at his face, “But I wouldn’t confess, and she couldn’t get rid of me without a confession. There are only so many students at Hogwarts as it is, and she couldn’t afford to lose any more of them. Especially purebloods like me.”

“But then… well, soon after that…” Dean began, his eyes flickering to Ernie in worry, but he didn’t seem able to complete his sentence.

“Look, when you’re trans in Wizarding society, you’re either one of two things: you still fit into a binary gender and the Ministry helps you transition when you find out and keeps it all quiet, _or_ , you don’t fit into a binary gender, and the Ministry tells you you’re wrong,” Katherine spat out angrily.

“This whole system is kept a secret – there are actually ways of telling if someone is going to be trans, magically speaking,” Nadia said sadly, “So if someone is going to be a nonbinary gender, they’re ignored; the moment a binary gender switch is magically known, however, the Ministry swoops in – usually happens when the kid is between three and five – and then does all the magical operations and stuff and gives some hormones. But usually the family of the child still has to pay for some of it, especially the drugs.”

“And then their gender is officially changed on record and the Ministry pretends it never happened, so trans people don’t exist, officially,” Dean continued. Ernie was silent throughout this, his lips pressed into a thin line.

“Well Umbridge didn’t know about this,” Nadia sighed, “And she… she was furious. She managed to get lists of all the trans students in the school – _including_ nonbinary ones, I mean, it’s all the same list – and she just. She started parading them around the school…”

“Legally she couldn’t force any student who had gotten a transition to change back,” Dean said, “But… she basically tortured… any student on that list…”

“She made transmen wear the girl uniforms and transwomen the boy uniforms,” Katherine hissed, “And she outed everyone and anyone, and a lot of the people who are nonbinary didn’t even _know_ , but the list said they were ‘other’ and so Umbridge brought us all up to the front of the Great Hall and said we were freaks and not to be indulged in this…”

“Holy _shite_ ,” I snarled under my breath.

“Yep. Out of 280 students, about… eighty of us? Eighty of us are trans,” Katherine continued, “About thirty nonbinary, fifty binary… Were brought up and outed. It wasn’t even, obviously, all DA members… most of them didn’t want anything to do with this problem, but because the DA has _such a high frequency_ of trans individuals…”

“According to that list, about eleven of us are nonbinary, and thirteen binary gendered and trans,” Nadia explained, “Which, given our group is about forty eight people… fifty if you include Zacharias and Marietta… Half of us are trans.”

“When she made that connection she flipped a shit and started dragging the DA out on the coals for ‘tolerating abominations,’” Dean put quotation marks around the words.

“Is this list still circulating?” Hermione asked sharply.

“No, we’re getting to that,” Ernie muttered.

“Ernie doesn’t like to talk about this,” Nadia whispered, “He was… it wasn’t good, what wearing girl clothes did to him…”

Ernie had his eyes closed and I kind of wished I could give him a hug.

“We’re just glad she didn’t have a sexuality list or something,” Dean shook his head slowly, “I mean, it would have been pandemonium.”

“Why are so many of us trans, do you think?” Neville asked in confusion.

“Probably the whole ‘we don’t give a crap about your society’ thing,” Katherine snorted.

“And she started dividing students based on blood, too,” Ernie finally piped up, his face determined, and he looked completely done with the previous topic of conversation, “If you were pureblood, you sat at the front of your house table… Halfblood in the middle… and Muggle borns were all at the back, near the front entrance. If you didn’t comply, you’d get detentions… and all detentions had blood quills, now…”

“Fucking,” I whispered. Harry looked like he was going to vomit.

“She made this thing called the Inquisitorial Squad,” Ernie continued, looking disgusted at the thought of it, “Who were in charge of finding and punishing troublemakers… all Slytherins, sadly, and they basically made it their life mission torture the DA…”

“Malfoy was in charge of that, I assume,” Hermione said scathingly.

“No, actually,” Nadia admitted, “He didn’t seem to want to be… mostly because it turned out that Goyle was a transman and he didn’t like that one of his friends was being treated like this. Crabbe also didn’t join.”

“You’re _kidding_ ,” I and the other members of the “twelve” said in unison.

“Nope,” Ernie shook his head, “It was downright _bizarre_. He didn’t outright join the DA or anything, I mean the guy is still with Voldemort, but…”

No one in the room cringed. I was honestly proud.

“Essentially, very few people in Hogwarts were _happy_ about what was happening. While you guys were on the run, Skeeter’s interview with Harry came out in the Quibbler –“ Nadia continued.

“Good show, that,” Neville grinned, “We read it when we reentered society.”

“It convinced _everyone_ ,” Katherine nodded, “Well, not _everyone_ , but the majority of the school believed Voldemort was back now, so no one was happy about _that_ part of her rule…”

“And odds were, even if you didn’t believe it, you either a) were trans, b) had a friend who was trans, or c) were muggle born,” Dean nodded.

“Only a small fraction of the school supported Umbridge and were happy with her,” Ernie agreed, “But those people were vocal… most were, sadly, Slytherins, given they don’t have many muggle borns, they still had a pretty equal number of trans people as the other houses…”

“And they have the highest proportion of children of death eaters, so, those people tended to deny the return of Voldemort, even though they knew it was a lie,” Katherine rolled her eyes.

“The Inquisitorial Squad was headed by Parkinson,” Nadia spat, “She was ruthless.”

“Tore off Nadia’s hijab,” Dean muttered mutinously.

“ _No!_ ” Hermione shrieked.

“It was a terrible day,” Ernie sighed.

“Parkinson and her crew, they basically had a free license to do whatever the hell they wanted,” Ernie sneered.

“So I fought back,” Katherine stated simply.

“You and _Peter_ fought back,” Nadia rolled her eyes.

“We basically attacked them with some of the lovely spells you taught us, Harry,” Katherine beamed, “Got into _huge trouble_ for it, but worth it.”

“Lee Jordan then set off a series of explosions in the Great Hall a few days later,” Ernie stated almost dreamily, “As a distraction…”

“I ran up and I grabbed the trans list,” Katherine nodded, “And I set it on fire in front of Umbridge.”

“She was furious,” Nadia snorted, “She basically looked like she would explode.”

“She had direct orders form Fudge to not expel any more students because, well, she couldn’t,” Ernie shrugged, “So she…”

“She tortured me in a variety of fun and painful ways,” Katherine shrugged, “Worth it.”

“Not worth it,” Peter said mutinously somewhere behind me. Katherine flushed slightly, looking down at her feet.

“I kept painting stuff around the school,” Ernie paused, “But it was getting harder and harder to do so without being detected.”

“She disbanded prefects and the head system,” Nadia rolled her eyes, “The Inquisitorial Squad remained.”

“Uniforms were strictly enforced, and birth-gendered,” Dean scowled, “If you were seen within _inches_ of another student, regardless of gender, you’d be given detention… though of course, if she found you doing romantic activities with a student of what _she_ considered the opposite gender, it wouldn’t be bad, just cleaning or a usual punishment… but if you were with someone she considered the _same_ gender…”

“Two seventh years – Mina Wallace and Rob MacDonald – both heterosexual, but Mina is a transwoman, so according to Umbridge she was man, and well, they were given the homosexual style punishment,” Nadia hissed.

“Basically you had to write ‘I am an abomination’ on your hand and then go through her little reeducation course. Only lectures she’s ever given in her life,” Dean sneered.

“They were horrible, and damaging, and honestly I feel like vomiting at the thought,” Katherine shook her head sadly.

“It was a police state, plain and simple,” Ernie shrugged, “She fired Trelawney, got a Ministry replacement… gave lectures every night at dinner about why the twelve were dangerous criminals, not to be trusted…”

“O.W.L.s went okay, I mean, not terribly at least,” Dean sighed, “We got through ‘em alright.”

“End of the year came around and I just… I just _lost_ it,” Ernie admitted.

“We all did,” Nadia reassured.

“The DA came up with a plan… the year was over, we figured, we had nothing to lose…” Dean continued.

“I lured her out to the Forest,” Nadia began, “I claimed that Maggie had actually been working on a top secret weapon out here.”

“She ate it up,” Ernie grinned.

“We went out into the forest… and well, we remembered you’d talked of a dragon…” Katherine snorted.

“Shit,” I groaned, _I need to catch up with Herin_.

“The dragon came out of nowhere and grabbed Umbridge, but didn’t eat her, which was a real shame,” Ernie sighed.

“The rest of the DA apprehended the Ministry patsies and a great _slew_ of other students attacked and rounded up the Inquisitorial Squad,” Nadia beamed.

“The dragon grabbed Umbridge and flew away with her,” Dean looked delighted, “She was _screaming_ and _shouting_ and it was glorious –“

“And soon after that, some ministry officials came and said that all of your guys’ names had been cleared, Voldemort was back, and Umbridge was to be removed immediately…” Katherine snorted.

“Too bad she already _had_ been removed,” Ernie grinned.

“Rumor has it she was found in Hogsmeade, traumatized and huddled in a ball,” Dean nodded in satisfaction.

“At any rate, that’s all we know. Very little was actually told to us about you guys,” Katherine shook her head sadly.

“Honestly? I didn’t really believe you guys had been cleared,” Ernie frowned, looking sad.

“Well, we were,” Harry snorted.

“So, your turn?” Ernie asked eagerly. We got up to the front of the room, and I swallowed. So much of our journey was based on personal information of mine.

“Erm…” Harry paused, looking at me, clearly having the same thought.

I sighed heavily.

“Essentially, Umbridge took Neville and I to her office. She used the cruciatus curse on Neville to get us to talk. She then used it on me. She tried to use it on me again, but Neville stunned her. We ran. We couldn’t find Elena, so I doubled back. In doing so, I ran into Umbridge. We fought in the Great Hall, and most of you saw that part,” I shrugged.

“Okay,” Seamus frowned, “But what about on the run?”

I sighed again and Neville wrapped an arm tightly around my shoulder.

“There’s something you guys need to… I mean… if…” Harry stammered nervously.

“There was some drama on the run,” I stated calmly, “Drama that is hard to talk around.”

“Okay…” Parvati frowned.

“Basically, we got out to the woods, and the dragon – we know her name, by the way, it’s Herin,” Neville continued.

“Wait she has a _name_?” Seamus demanded in shock.

“That’s an even longer story, for another time,” Harry snorted.

“Anyway, she carried us all to the other side of the mountains,” Hermione continued brusquely, “We weren’t there for long before… George started getting annoyed about Maggie and Neville being, well, Maggie and Neville.”

Ernie snorted.

“Here’s the thing,” I sighed heavily, “Um… Um…” Tears came to my eyes of their own accord, and I couldn’t stop them. I immediately turned and pressed my face into Neville’s side, and he held onto me as tightly as he could.

“At the end of their relationship, George raped Maggie,” Neville murmured quietly, “He was drunk at the time, and thought it had just been sex. He broke up with her afterwards because he had also considered it _bad_ sex. He was unaware of what actually happened. Given the close proximity of all of us at the time, and the fact that he was being a prick, I finally told him, with Maggie’s permission.”

“Initially, George had been disbelieving of it, but after extensive discussion in which the rest of us all believed Maggie, he left,” Elena whispered from near us.

The entire room was deathly silent.

“Holy crap,” Katie finally said.

“How in the hell did you deal with _being around him_ all the time?” Nadia demanded in shock.

“She is the strongest person I know,” Neville stated firmly, holding me even tighter to him. I shook my head madly in disbelief.

“Honestly, she dealt with it by mostly being in groups of large people when around him… and sleeping outside of the Gryffindor Common Room,” Hermione admitted.

“So _that’s_ why,” a group of people said in unison. Harry snorted.

“So who knew before that?” Peter asked, frowning.

“Us, and Ginny,” Harry admitted.

“So… what happened after that?” Ernie asked, and I threw him a thankful glance.

“We wandered through the woods for a long time,” Neville admitted, “Nothing much happened. We stopped in Inverness and stole some food, which we’re not proud of, but we needed it…”

“We were ambushed by Death Eaters, and obviously had to use magic, but that meant the Ministry found us, because of the trace and all… so the Order came, and they bailed us out of there,” I managed to get out, sniffling slightly.

“Fred joined the Order, and Elena and Claire were taken back to the Order’s Headquarters,” Hermione continued, “And then… Harry and Mrs. Johnson had a fight.”

“I was mad at her for not telling me why all this stuff was happening to me,” Harry admitted.

“I… I kind of knew,” I admitted softly, “I’ve known for a while, and I made a mistake in not telling Harry. Harry figured that I knew based on my reaction to this fight, so he yelled at me, which was _totally justified_ –“

“Except what he said went a little too far,” Neville stated, glaring slightly at Harry. Harry sighed, looking apologetic.

“We split into two groups,” he continued, “I went with Ginny, Ron, and Luna. We wandered the forest for a while, but without Hermione, we were having a lot of trouble finding food… Eventually we had to use magic, and then the Ministry tried to capture us again.”

“This lead the Death Eaters straight to us, and they managed to get us,” Ginny explained, standing up.

“They tortured us for about three weeks? Maybe a month, while they got their plan together,” Harry sighed, “They took Ron and Luna off their transition meds… put Ginny under the cruciatus curse…”

“Their plan was for Harry to retrieve something Voldemort wanted from the Ministry, and they promised to keep the three of us alive in return, though obviously that was bullshit,” Ginny explained.

“Meanwhile, the four of us – me, Neville, Hermione, and Sam, and Blue too of course – were wandering through the woods as usual…” I swallowed.

“Maggie had a pretty bad depressive episode after what happened with Harry,” Hermione explained kindly, “But after a while we managed to pull her out of it.”

“Eventually we reached London, and chilled at the flat Neville and I had lived in over the summer while I recovered from… my PTSD from the whole being raped and attacked in the third task thing,” I whispered softly.

“Neville’s Gran ran in and told us that the Death Eaters had Harry, and were taking him to the Ministry. We of course ran off, because we knew what they were after,” Hermione continued.

“What were they after?” Hannah asked breathlessly.

“Oh… erm…” I looked over at Harry in worry.

“A prophecy,” he admitted.

Everyone stared at him in shock.

“Basically, before I was born a prophecy was made that said the person who would defeat the Dark Lord would be born to those who had thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies,” Harry admitted quietly, “This person would have the power that Voldemort did not have, that could defeat him. But Voldemort had to mark this person as his equal before that person was the one who could defeat him.”

“This was the thing I knew,” I whispered, “Before Voldemort targeted Harry, that prophecy could have applied to either Harry or Neville.”

Sam was frowning in the audience, but I didn’t know why.

“You okay?” I asked him.

“Yeah, just… you never… I need to investigate something later, that’s all,” Sam admitted.

“Alright…” I paused, “Anyway, when Voldemort went after Harry, two very important things happened. One, for some reason, he didn’t want to kill Harry’s mum… but she refused to step aside, and died for him, even though she didn’t have to… she willingly put herself forward to die for him after having been given the option to live… and in doing so, she protected Harry from the killing curse. So the spell bounced back and hit Voldemort…”

“And in doing this, Voldemort marked Harry as his equal, and thus, the only one able to defeat him,” Hermione nodded, “It’s why he can speak Parseltongue. Voldemort gave him some of his powers.”

Everyone was speechless, watching us in fear and amazement.

“Voldemort didn’t know all of this, he only knew portions of it, so he wanted the whole prophecy. Well, the only people who can remove prophecies from the Department of Mysteries are the people who the prophecy is about – so me or Voldemort,” Harry continued, “He couldn’t go himself, obviously, so he sent me.”

“When there, the Death Eaters and them encountered us,” Neville grinned grimly, “Maggie mimed a plan to Harry –“

“I distracted the Death Eaters – Harry dropped the prophecy on purpose – We all ran, and Ginny blasted apart the shelves…” I continued.

“We kept running, and we all started battling in the Department of Mysteries, and then the Order showed up to help…” Neville continued.

“A lot of people were gravely injured, Neville among them,” Harry admitted, “Maggie thought he had died.”

A small gasp went up throughout the room.

“I didn’t take it well,” I acknowledged.

“Hermione also was seriously hurt,” Harry continued, “And a whole bunch of Death Eaters died, but…”

“So did my parents, Mr. Weasley, and Emmeline Vance,” I whispered.

“Voldemort showed up then, but so did Dumbledore, and they fought together… Voldemort possessed Harry, but turns out Harry is too good of a person for Voldemort to be able to stand being in his mind, so he left… when he did, the Ministry showed up, and were forced to acknowledge that Voldemort was back… making everything done to _us_ and the _Order_ unfounded… so Fudge and Umbridge and some of his other most loyal people were put into Azkaban…” Neville explained.

“And we were let back into Hogwarts and had to spend a month and a half playing catch-up,” Hermione shrugged.

Everyone was watching us in shock, some of their mouths hanging open.

“Hey, it’s not the same as living in a police state school,” Harry said defensively.

“ _Still_ ,” Ernie shook his head.

“At any rate, the point here is not who had it worse,” Sam rolled his eyes, “It was bad. It was a bad situation.”

“So what do we do now?” Nadia asked. The question hung delicately in the air.

“Therapy?” Ginny suggested, and nervous but agreeable laughter filled the room.

“ _Besides_ that,” Harry snorted.

“So are we all getting that or…?” Ernie asked, “I just got a letter from McGonagall over the holiday…”

“Yup, all of us,” I nodded, “Don’t worry, I know the therapist. She’s lovely, and a witch.”

“Oh, what’s your other story about the dragon thing?” Ernie furthered, frowning at me.

I sighed heavily, “I’m an animagus.”

A collective gasp went up throughout the room.

“I mean, it’s not a surprise, but I’m currently not registered. I’m going to soon, though,” I paused.

“What are you?” Terry asked eagerly.

I shifted. Everyone gasped, and one person screamed. I shifted back, rolling my eyes.

“I am too, by the way,” Hermione offered, and turned into her form on the spot, flapping her wings and landing on Harry’s shoulder. People gasped, but no screams happened with her.

“At any rate, being a dragon animagus is kind of a thing back in America, you know, where nearly half of my genetics come from,” I snorted, “And… well, in America they do things differently.”

“Oh?” Katherine asked, frowning.

“Yeah they… dragons aren’t monsters,” I shook my head, “They’re actually very intelligent beings.”

“ _Woah_ ,” Dean whispered.

“But they don’t like being treated as monsters, so they fight back,” I shrugged, “And they _really_ don’t like being ‘tamed.’ So… they’re violent and act like monsters.”

“Makes sense,” Ernie offered.

“If Herin, as you say, hadn’t been so helpful, I wouldn’t believe it, but…” Padma grinned.

“Yeah,” I laughed, “Well during the first Voldemort war, the Death Eaters killed a _lot_ of British dragons,” I sighed, “So Herin approached me about stopping that from happening again. Basically, in America, there are a lot of Halflings – so dragon animagi – that bridge the gap between dragons and humans. But there are also Riders.”

“Riders?” Ernie asked eagerly.

“People who bond with a dragon at a very young age, grow up together, and essentially become two halves of the same soul,” I explained, “They form the army and the police for wizards over in the US, along with Halflings. Basically, they live in the same society.”

“So, what? You’re going to make riders here?” Michael frowned.

“No, but we _are_ going to try and get British dragons to work with us,” I amended, “And some Riders and Halflings from the US might come to help with the war.”

“Neat!” Anthony said eagerly, and a general murmuring of agreement went up throughout the room.

“So then, what do we do?” Ernie asked firmly, looking at Harry with profound respect.

“We recover, seriously,” Hermione said calmly, “And we do what we planned to do in the first place.”

Another excited murmur went up around the room.

“The school will be easy to convert,” Astoria said eagerly, “After everything that happened last year? It shouldn’t take long.”

“And then, beyond the school?” Ada pointed out.

“We go to different cities. There are usually Wixen-only hubs in each major population center,” Ginny explained, “We can go, talk about what we know, what we still don’t know, try to get them to be on our side… build up a…”

“Rebellion?” Susan finished, grinning from ear to ear.

“Viva la revolution,” I stated in a flat, but excited, voice.

Cheers went up throughout the room.

“We’ll use the hell we went through as example! Get people sympathetic to us!” Terry stated eagerly, jumping to his feet.

“They’ll _have_ to listen to the sheer amount of _data_ you have, Hermione!” Peter agreed.

“We can do this!”

“We have the momentum!”

“ _No one can stop us!_ ”

“Umbridge thought she could, and well, _look where she is now!_ ”

“We will bring down Voldemort _and this terrible government!_ ”

The excited shouts grew louder and I looked over at Hermione, Harry, and Neville in amazement. They all grinned back at me.

“First things first!” Harry shouted above the fray. Everyone turned to look at him, amusement on the faces of some, excitement on others.

“Sleep, tomorrow we have school,” Hermione laughed.

Everyone laughed with her and the group disbanded. Neville squeezed my hand tightly as we left the room.

“So will you be returning to the Common Room now, Maggie?” Parvati asked curiously.

“Erm…” I flushed with embarrassment.

“We help each other through the nightmares,” Neville explained sheepishly.

“You two are illegally cute,” Parvati rolled her eyes and walked away.

“We’re talking about PTSD and you call it _cute?_ ” I shouted at her retreating back.

“IT’S A STRANGE WORLD, MAGGIE,” Parvati shouted, looking over her shoulder and grinning at me. I laughed and rolled my eyes.

Neville was squeezing my hand _extremely_ tightly now, and he was pulling me along the corridors back to our room. I looked at him in pure amusement as he immediately pulled me in for a long and passionate kiss.

**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**

“Mmmph!” I shouted into his mouth, but he just held me tighter to him, pressing m as tightly against him as humanly possible.

“You are an evil temptress,” he breathed into my mouth, his voice ragged and strained.

“I know,” I giggled.

“It took all my concentration to not think about your lack of knickers,” he grunted, his eyes flashing with frustration.

“You could have just thought about this, instead,” I grinned eagerly.

“And have a boner the _entire time_ we were meeting with the DA? Fat chance,” Neville snorted.

“Well,” I beamed, “We’re not with them now!”

“I know,” he groaned, and he pulled me in for a longer kiss, his tongue diving into my mouth as I squeaked eagerly, wrapping my arms tightly around him and holding on as much as I could. He kept kissing me passionately and desperately, starting to walk slightly – this was awkward, as I was still very much shorter than him, so h couldn’t walk properly _and_ kiss me at the same time. I was confused, furthermore, as to why he seemed to be moving _away_ from our bed. He solved this problem by picking me up from the ground and holding tightly to my naked butt underneath my skirt, and I eagerly wrapped my legs around his waist.

Neville resumed walking and kissing me, his lips still moving hungrily against mine. I squeaked in surprise as suddenly we were in our bathroom, and he had placed me on the counter, wrapping his arm tightly around my shoulder to keep me pressed against him. His other hand began stroking my thigh somewhat, fingers tracing alongside the outer edge of it.

I pulled back from his kisses and managed to gasp out, “Wh- what are you doing?”

“Just a new angle,” Neville grinned cheekily.

“Okay,” I grinned eagerly, pulling him in for a longer kiss before pulling back again, “You are _entirely_ too clothed.”

“Hmmm, well, for now, I want to do this,” Neville stated huskily, his fingers moving up my thigh underneath my skirt, “If that’s okay with you –“

“Sure,” I grinned, understanding the impetus.

He began kissing me again, whispering, “I love you” into my lips, seemingly to make up for the frustrated names from earlier. I smiled happily in response, whispering “I love you,” and spreading my legs slightly on the counter.

Neville moaned slightly and pulled me closer to him, my legs now wrapped around his waist. I squeaked again in joy and buried my fingers in his hair as he kissed me passionately, trailing his hand now up my inner thigh. He found my clit and started rubbing it slightly, making me moan into his mouth and lean back slightly. He started rubbing it more, his fingers lightly massaging it from all sides, and I couldn’t help but move my hips back and forth eagerly against him, rolling around needfully on the counter. He slowly traced his finger down and into my vagina, leaving it to sit for a moment while I continued to lightly hump his hand.

“Nev,” I begged softly.

“Hmm?” he asked, now just moving his finger in and out of me. His eyes were twinkling with mischief as I squirmed against him.

“ _Nev_ ,” I reiterated, small gasps leaving my mouth as he rubbed his thumb in small circles against my clit, still not doing much inside of me, and thus, driving me crazy.

“Maggie, you’re going to have to speak up,” Neville teased.

“You’re evil,” I breathed.

“Good, then we’re a perfect match,” he laughed.

I moaned desperately and clutched at his shirt, gripping it tightly in my hands, wiggling desperately against him.

“More,” I finally managed to gasp out, looking up at him, breathing heavily with my mouth slightly open. I knew my cheeks were flushed, and my eyes were only partially open, because I was so turned on I couldn’t think straight.

“More? More how?” Neville asked cheekily. I groaned loudly, reaching to grip his arm in my hand.

“I – ah – mm – just more – oh please,” I begged.

“You really aren’t helping me here,” Neville laughed.

“Why do you hate me,” I gasped out.

“I love you, actually,” he responded, his face spread into a wide grin.

“I love you,” I breathed, “And you _know what I mean when I say more_.”

“I do,” he admitted, pulling me in for a long kiss, as he started to press his finger against me instead of move it in and out. He went slowly at first, but my fingernails were digging sharply into his shoulder, and I think he could tell that I was still desperately thinking the word _more_.

“Please,” I whimpered into his mouth, and this apparently was enough to spur him on; he started moving his finger more rapidly against me, and I pulled back from our kiss to moan loudly into the air. He groaned at that and pulled me back in again, his finger now going so fast I could barely breathe, I was just moaning and begging him for more as I humped my hips eagerly against his hand, rocking madly back and forth on the counter as he started nibbling on my lip.

I pulled back from the kiss and started trailing my kisses hungrily down to his neck before latching onto the dip between his neck and shoulders, grabbing it in my mouth and sucking as hard as I could.

“ _Maggie!_ ” he shouted, his finger now moving erratically inside of me, so hard against me that I could feel my eyes roll back up into my head, but I was busy sucking on his neck and lightly biting it, which just made him groan more and even louder, somehow.

“ _Neville_ ,” I responded, my voice high pitched and breathless in his ear, and he growled at that, sticking another finger inside of me. I cried out louder and stopped sucking on his neck, pulling back and pressing my forehead and nose into his. I dug my fingernails into his back and he moved his fingers harder, panting with the effort but watching me eagerly. I was delirious with pleasure, my eyes barely open, but my mouth fully so, as I panted against him, moans and squeaks continuously coming out of my mouth.

“Ne – Nev – Nev – oh please – oh please – oh – oh – oh,” I gasped out, “ _Ah!_ ” My moan dissolved into a scream as I finally exploded around him, my walls contracting so hard against his fingers that I found myself biting his shoulder out of pleasure, shaking violently against him for what seemed, to me at least, to be a _very_ long period of time. I did, eventually, relax against him, letting out one last shiver as I collapsed against his body.

“I love you,” I whimpered happily, panting against his shoulder.

“I love you,” he moaned, and I pulled back to look at him. His eyes were still extremely dark with lust, and I squeaked in surprise as he picked me up from the counter and carried me back quickly to our room. I giggled weakly as he basically dropped me onto the bed and crawled on top of me instantly, nibbling on my neck and grabbing at the hem of my jumper, quickly pulling it over my head.

I squeaked with surprise as he rapidly undressed me, pulling each article of clothing off of me as quickly as possible, trailing his lips up to mine and kissing me passionately as he slid my blouse, and then my bra, and then my skirt off of me, finally reaching to tug my socks off my body.

I eagerly fumbled with his shirt to pull it off, my hands sweaty with effort as I managed to pull it from him and throw it on the ground. He groaned eagerly and pressed his naked torso to mine, rubbing up against me and wrapping his arms tightly around my torso, squeezing me tighter to him. I managed to find his pants and quickly unbuckle them, pulling them off of his hips.

“Feeling veggie?” I managed to gasp out between kisses, and he shook his head frantically _no_ , and I pulled down his boxers and reached to start stroking him, but he had pressed me down back into the bed before I could get a good grip.

“I’m – I – Nev –“ I stammered nervously, not ready for that next step.

“Oh I know,” he panted, “I just want to do something.”

“Okay,” I nodded, trusting him as I stared into his loving brown eyes.

He started kissing my face, not leaving a stone unturned, his hands lovingly stroking my sides as he did so. I sighed joyfully, loving the feel of his soft lips and prickly stubble moving across my cheeks and forehead and chin. He left a small little kiss on the tip of my nose that made me giggle, before kissing more down to my neck. I sighed more lustfully now, his lips moving across all the sensitive spots there, pressing meticulously against every inch. I started to squirm happily underneath him and he reached up with his hand to stroke my cheek, though he couldn’t see it; I rotated my face to kiss his palm and he sighed happily.

“I love you,” he murmured, pausing and looking up to gaze into my eyes again, “So infinitely much.”

I swallowed and smiled weakly at him, overwhelmed with emotion, “I love you so infinitely much.”

He beamed at me and resumed kissing me, trailing his lips along my shoulders. I could feel his tongue tickle my skin and I giggled, making him giggle too in response. He moved his lips down to my left arm and circled kisses all the way down it, once again not missing an inch – I was amazed at his meticulousness, and it made me tingle all over with joy. He trailed down and lightly sucked each of my fingers, making me moan softly. I was still sensitive and weak from before, but my body was quickly getting ready for more again, especially with all the kisses.

He then swooped over to my other shoulder and trailed kisses down my right arm; once he had reached my right wrist, covered in scars, I could feel tears falling against my skin. I made a sound of distress but Neville shook his head against me, simply kissing each scar lovingly and whispering against my skin.

“ _I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you_ ,” he whispered over and over.

“I love you,” I responded, my voice shaking somewhat.

“Never forget that,” Neville murmured, looking up and at me, his eyes wet with tears. I reached out with my hands and grabbed his face with them, pulling him in for a long kiss.

“Never,” I repeated firmly, looking at him urgently. He nodded and kissed my lips again, before returning to his task.

“So are you gonna kiss… everywhere?” I managed to gasp out has his lips trailed down my upper chest and started to trace patterns on my left breast.

“Mmhmm,” he mumbled as he worked, “If that’s alright with you.”

“More than alright,” I gasped out as he latched onto the nipple and sucked gently, making me squirm heavily and needfully underneath him. He chuckled and kissed the rest of the breast, including the underside, before running back up the center of my chest and to my right breast, lapping at my nipple with his tongue and making me cry out loudly. He grinned against me and resumed kissing, going down to my stomach and pecking away lovingly at every inch of skin, including the roll of fat at the bottom; in fact he started nibbling at the multiple pockets of fat on my sides hungrily, making me overwhelmed with feelings of love and acceptance.

He started kissing my hips now, and I squeaked with excitement, the site of his head between my legs driving me crazy. He trailed his kisses down my abdomen, sweeping across my wide hips, and going down my left thigh, lovingly kissing every inch of muscle and fat, which was a feat, as my thighs were freaking _huge_. I groaned happily as he reached my knees and lovingly nibbled on them, and continued down my wide calves, licking slightly and making me laugh happily.

“You’re silly,” I grinned. He looked up and beamed at me.

“Learned from the best,” he grinned. I beamed back and he lovingly kissed my foot and toes before hopping – literally hopping, it made me bounce on the bed – over to my right foot, and going back up my leg. I squeaked with happiness and excitement as he got closer and closer to my hips again, finally trailing kisses up the inside of my thigh to my clit, kissing it softly.

The sensation of pressure there from his lips, accompanied by the sight of him between my legs, made me cry out loudly with pleasure, literally grunting with it as I fell back against the mattress. Neville groaned happily and trailed kisses down towards my vagina, leaving another large one there that made cry out louder. He turned me around on the bed and started kissing the backs of my legs, but I was so turned on now that I could barely form a thought, wiggling needfully underneath him once again. He got the hint and trailed kisses faster, still covering all the spots, taking extra care to get every inch of my much too large butt, squeezing the sides of my hips with his hands as he did so. As he trailed back up my back, I could feel his penis graze across my skin, and it made me shiver with anticipation and eagerness for a thing we still weren’t quite ready to do, but I still _physically_ wanted desperately. I groaned joyfully as he reached the back of my neck and left one last loving kiss on it, before turning me over again.

He was panting slightly from the effort, but grinning happily at having accomplished his goal. I beamed back at him and pulled him in for a long and loving kiss, guiding his hand back down to where I ached for him.

I moaned joyfully as he didn’t even hesitation, sliding his fingers inside of me and rubbing against me rapidly. I groaned happily and arched my back against the bed, still sensitive from before, every inch inside of me tender to the touch as he rammed against it with this fingers.

“I could watch you squirm like this all day,” Neville moaned huskily, and I moaned loudly in response, closing my eyes and lifting up my legs around him to pull him in closer to me. He groaned and pressed his face into my breasts as he rapidly slid a third finger inside of me, drumming up against me as hard as he could, literally pushing my hips forward with the effort of it. I cried out loudly and I wasn’t even cumming yet, squeezing my thighs against his hips and making him groan.

“Neeeeeev,” I groaned as loudly as I could, not even caring if McGonagall heard me, unable to contain myself from the waves of _yes_ washing over me. He groaned to, and managed to hunch over to awkwardly take my right breast into his mouth and suck on it, making me cry out even louder, but without words, just making incoherent sounds of ecstasy.

Neville grunted and switched hands, and I had to admit his left hand was getting stronger from all of our activities of late, pressing his fingers deftly and strongly into me. He started kissing my neck and licking it, and the feeling of his right hand coming to squeeze my left thigh just drove me nuts. I bucked underneath him and continued to moan and groan, my eyes rolling back up into my head again as I started to climb that mountain, nearing the edge very quickly when suddenly he stopped everything and leapt down to my clit and kissing it so hard that I cried out loudly, sitting up with shock at the new sensation, and it only took one more deep kiss there for me to tumble down over the edge.

“ _NEVILLE_ ,” I screamed as I did so, unable to help myself, quivering like mad against him and basically squeezing his head with my thighs. My walls tightened around his finger, which he had thankfully left in, just stopped moving; it squeezed and squeezed as though to internalize it, before everything finally relaxed and I collapsed onto the bed in amazement.

“McGonagall definitely heard that,” Neville laughed weakly, sitting up from his previous perch. I snorted, but it was breathless and lacked sound, as I was overwhelmed with the force of the previous events. Neville crawled back up to me and pressed his head against my cheek, nuzzling me lovingly. I breathed deeply, leaning over to hold his face in my hands and cover it in kisses. He giggled underneath my touch and, though weak, managed to press him down on his back and climb on top of him. I started kissing every inch of his face lovingly, enjoying his nose and his cheeks and his forehead, gently stroking his chin and ears as he smiled at me.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I love _you_ ,” I responded eagerly, still weak from the second cumming, as it were. Neville grinned and kissed me on the lips before I returned to kissing every inch of him, going through all of his neck and making sure to suck to boot, making him cry out loudly and buck against me. I enjoyed how frenetic he got whenever I kissed and sucked his neck, and now was no exception; once I was sure I had gotten every inch, I went along his collar and shoulders. He was running his hands lovingly along my back as I did this, his fingers eagerly tracing the contours of my shoulder blades as I kissed every inch of his arms, not pausing for an emotional moment, thankfully, as there was none to be hand. I enjoyed sucking on each of his fingers; the look he gave me was probably the most lustful one I had ever seen, and I honestly don’t know how he stopped himself from sliding inside of me with the… very strong erection that was pressing against me elsewhere.

I returned to his chest and nibbled on it, even though it was hairy; Neville giggled as I did so, presumably from it tickling him. I licked around his nipples lovingly and he groaned softly, his hips lightly bucking into my lower stomach, making me grin as I continued to kiss his flabby and soft stomach, squeezing it fondly.

“I love how cuddly you are,” I murmured into his stomach and he sighed happily, his hand now stroking my hair.

I continued to kiss down to his hips, teasingly kissing all around his penis but not the actual thing itself, making him groan needfully. I then went to work on his long legs, taking forever to go down the flabby thighs and slightly thinner calves, enjoying his groaning of frustration as I meticulously covered each inch of his feet and then switching over to the other side.

“Mags,” he groaned desperately, but I simply wiggled my butt in the air tantalizingly. He groaned again and laid back down against the mattress, gripping my shoulders tightly as I crawled up his leg tantalizingly, rubbing my breasts up against it and making him moan and squirm needfully beneath me. I managed to get back up to his abdomen, returning to his penis and hesitating above it for a minute, grinning slyly at Neville as he sat up slightly to stare at me.

“Please,” Neville begged. Now I could get back at him for before.

“Hmm,” I said thoughtfully, “Please what?”

“You _know_ what,” he gasped, his hands gripping the sheets tightly.

“Hmm, you’re going to give me more than that, I _am_ a bit of a dunce when it comes to interpersonal relationships,” I beamed, closing my eyes with the wideness of my smile.

“Maggie _please_ ,” Neville whimpered, and I opened my eyes to see him squirming there, looking at me with the most pleading face I’d ever seen. I couldn’t resist it; I immediately kissed the head of his penis, gently trailing more kisses down its length, enjoying _every_ inch as I did so. He cried out in a high-pitched, breathy voice beneath me, squirming and writhing madly with need as I kissed all the way around its circumference and even kissed his balls beneath it. He squirmed more and groaned louder, but I wasn’t done kissing him yet; I rapidly turned him over and got to work on the backs of his legs, lovingly nibbling along them. He was humping the mattress and gripping the sheets tightly, gasping out my name repeatedly and softly under his breath as he did so. I made sure to press my breasts and stomach tightly against his back as I kissed along it, which took a while as it was so broad, but I made sure to reach every inch before I got to the back of his neck and sucked on it lovingly.

“ _Mags_ ,” he groaned desperately, turning to look at me with a begging sort of expression, and I happily turned him around and reached down for his penis, grabbing lotion off of the nightstand and putting it on my hands before rubbing my left hand up and down along it. He sat up and pulled me in for a kiss as I did so, making me groan into his mouth and rub harder, lovingly squeezing my fingers around the shaft and enjoying the feeling of the blood filled tissue underneath my hand, growing stronger and straining more and more against me the more I pumped up and down. I moved my hand faster and Neville cried out louder into my mouth, gripping my arms tightly in his hands as I moved up and down faster and faster, enjoying him tense beneath me and wiggle eagerly, humping into my hand and rubbing against me as much as he could.

“Oh Mags,” he gasped breathlessly. I gently rubbed the tip of it with my thumb and he whimpered loudly underneath me, tensing more and more beneath me and writhing desperately. I went slightly faster, reaching with my non-dominant hand to caress his stomach, making him shiver beneath my fingers and hump my hand slightly faster. I grinned and pulled him in for a long kiss again as I tugged on his shaft as hard as I could and as fast as I could, rubbing him eagerly and roughly.

“ _Maggie_ ,” he screamed into my mouth, his body tensing against me. I knew I only had seconds and I broke away from the kiss roughly to place my mouth around the tip of his penis, just in time for liquid to come squirting into my mouth.

“ _Ahhhhh!_ ” he shouted in both surprise and pleasure as I licked the top of it and lapped up every drop, swallowing it with a slight grimace. It tasted salty and a little sour.

“Oh my god,” he breathed, looking at me in amazement. I wiped off my mouth and beamed lovingly at him.

“Maggie how are you _so amazing_ ,” Neville breathed, looking at me lovingly.

“I don’t know,” I laughed, “How are _you_ so amazing?”

“I don’t know,” he murmured, pulling me forward to kiss him again. We lied back down against the mattress together, me nestling close to him and resting my head lovingly on his chest.

**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**

“I love you so much,” he murmured, kissing the top of my head. I looked up at him and smiled.

“I love _you_ so much,” I reiterated, beaming at him.

“Your lips are so – so – amazing,” Neville finally settled on.

“Words were never your strong suit,” I snorted.

“Oh shove off,” Neville grinned, kissing me happily.

“Well that was honestly some of your most inspired work,” I giggled.

“I can’t help it, you not wearing anything underneath your skirt was a huge turn on,” Neville shrugged, kissing the tip of my nose.

“Okay, for that matter, serious question,” I began, pulling back from him and smiling. He looked at me and raised his eyebrows.

“Yeah?”

“I know you’ve _known_ that you _love_ me since we were first years,” I paused, “But I mean, you couldn’t have – you didn’t find me sexually attractive then, right? I mean… when did you first… think of me in that way?”

“Hmmm,” Neville paused thoughtfully, “I think… er…” He began flushing madly.

“When?” I laughed, grinning at him.

“Well… don’t laugh,” Neville begged.

“I won’t,” I promised, biting my lip forcefully to stop myself from laughing.

“After we battled the basilisk… and we were trying to figure out how to get back… you… I have to admit the sight of you covered in blood and your clothing torn and you all sweaty and disheveled and… er… well your sweatshirt was kind of torn in a way that showed your breast which was… er… I dunno… it’s weird to think about now because you were _thirteen_ and I’m _sixteen now_ but back then when I was twelve you … you looked like the goddess of war or something,” Neville stammered nervously, “I couldn’t help it, I found that very attractive, and I realized sexuality was in fact a thing.”

I grinned at him, “Honestly, that’s a perfectly reasonable moment.”

“And I’ve… I’ve never really felt as strong of a romantic attraction to anyone else, obviously,” Neville shrugged, “Ginny was… a _fraction_ of what I feel for you… the _smallest_ fraction…”

“But?” I asked, frowning.

“Well I was _sexually_ attracted to her a lot… and… I have one continuous crush on a guy that I never was romantically attracted to, but, ya know, occasionally he’d grace my fantasies,” Neville shrugged.

“Ah,” I grinned, “I understand. I mean, I had a huge crush on Angelina Johnson.”

“You’re _kidding_ ,” Neville grinned.

“She’s a _goddess_ ,” I snorted.

“Fair enough,” Neville laughed, “And that summer, you were kind of serious with… what was her name?”

“Gina was the only person I went back to, that hardly counts as _serious_ ,” I laughed, “And it was purely physical.”

“Fair enough,” Neville beamed.

“So who’s your long term sexual guy crush?” I grinned.

Neville flushed more, “Er… Ernie.”

“You’re _kidding_ ,” I giggled.

“Nope,” Neville shook his head, “I mean I have found loads of people attractive besides, as have you, but only a few long term things stick out in my head.”

“Fair enough,” I beamed.

“Erm… when did you… did you ever… did you just realize you were attracted to me in both ways all at once or…?” Neville asked nervously.

“Oh no. I realized I loved you romantically at the Yule Ball. I had my first… realization I found you sexually attractive… when you came back from Australia,” I admitted, “You were so different but also the same and just… I dunno. I guess the proper thought would be ‘hot damn.’”

Neville laughed out loud and pulled me in for a long kiss.

“That cheers me a bit,” Neville laughed, “Because you’re a dunce at romance, yeah, but you’ve always had sexual crushes on people, as you’ve _told_ me, so it’s comforting to know I was early on.”

“Yup!” I beamed. He kissed me again and we kissed for a long time, me running my hands lovingly along his arms.

“I love you,” he said softly, pulling back from me and looking at me tenderly.

“I love you,” I responded, kissing him on the tip of his nose. I settled into his arms and Blue sensed that we were done with what she probably perceived as our mating ritual. She climbed up into the bed and nestled at our feet, and I quickly drifted off to a peaceful sleep, happy that my birthday was starting off on a good note.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PHEW! Don't worry this isn't just going to be the Maggie/Neville porn show. Just, you know, these scenes are important for their growth as a couple and how they relate to one another. Most of book six is honestly focused on the other members of the DA! So hooray! As I think we're starting to see here. Please, PLEASE comment!!!!


	85. Chapter Eighty-Four: September 2, 1996, Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I know that things can really get rough when you go it alone   
> Don’t go thinking you gotta be tough, to play like a stone   
> Could be there’s nothing else in our lives so critical   
> As this little home! 
> 
> Well this will be a simple song to say what you’ve done   
> I told you about all those fears and away they did run   
> You sure must be strong   
> And you feel like an ocean   
> Being warmed by the sun"   
> ~ The Shins, "Simple Song"

Chapter 84: September 2, 1996, Hogwarts

I woke up to the sight of Neville staring down at me, his face contorted into a wide grin.

“Happy Birthday!” he cheered, beaming at me.

“I did _not_ get this cheerful of a greeting last year,” I laughed, looking at him.

“That’s because last year we were worried about Umbridge,” Neville laughed, “This year things should be relatively un-torture filled.”

“We hope,” I giggled. Neville beamed at me and covered every inch of my face in kisses. I laughed loudly, wrapping my arms tightly around him and squeezing.

“Also, you gave me a very lovely birthday, and I wanted to return the favor. _Last_ year I spent my birthday freaking out because I had no idea if you were alive,” Neville stuck his tongue out at me. I frowned, looking at him sadly.

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered.

“No, no I didn’t mean to make you sad – bloody hell,” Neville groaned, pulling me up into a sitting position to look at him, “I’m sorry, I meant that in a teasing sort of way, I’m sorry.”

I nodded, and I pushed it out of my mind, pulling him in for a long kiss. He wrapped his arms around me tightly and we snogged passionately, his tongue buried in my mouth and his hands running down my sides. I eagerly wiggled my hips underneath his and he groaned into my mouth, making me squeak happily.

“Now, now,” he panted, looking at me lovingly.

“What?” I asked innocently.

“We have to go to school, we can have birthday celebrations later,” Neville beamed. I grinned back at him and nodded, kissing him once more before getting up to get dressed for the day.

“So what am I getting for my birthday?” I asked innocently. Neville grinned at me and ran over to kiss me, holding my face in between both of his hands and holding me lovingly.

“I love you, and honestly, I’m showering you in love and I’m giving you some presents and we aren’t going to do anything new in terms of sexual stuff because I don’t want us to have an awkward situation on a day where I just want you to relax and enjoy yourself,” he explained, eyes lit up with love and excitement. I eagerly leaned up and kissed him in response, because ultimately how could I not.

“So what’s my first present?” I asked, smiling slightly as I pulled away. He chuckled and hugged me as tightly as he could. I squealed in surprise as he wrapped me up completely in his arms and continued to hold me close, his face pressed up against mine.

He then pulled back and reached over to the dresser, going in and pulling out a small, wrapped package.

“You _wrapped_ it,” I stated in amusement.

“It’s your birthday, and I love you, and you’re seventeen now, which is supposedly some sort of big deal,” Neville shrugged sheepishly. I took the present and I opened it, smiling at him lovingly.

It was a small black box, and I flushed furiously. I didn’t wear jewelry often and I didn’t know why Neville would get me more. But when I opened it, inside was a small tooth fossil, with a serrated edge and a curved shape.

“Oh!” I shouted in surprise.

“It’s a _Velociraptor_ tooth,” Neville admitted sheepishly, “I did a lot of research before getting it – they’re really common, the Gobi Desert is _littered_ with them, so taking one shouldn’t take anything away form science –“

“No, it shouldn’t,” I agreed breathlessly.

“So I thought you would like it, because it’s like having Blue with you all the time, and I made it into a necklace, and I know you don’t wear jewelry, but you haven’t taken off that dragon necklace I got you for Christmas, and, well –“ Neville rambled, but I cut him off with a kiss. I put on the necklace and it _clanked_ against the dragon, and I smiled lovingly at him.

“It’s wonderful,” I reassured, leaning in and kissing him.

“Great,” Neville beamed, flushing heavily, “I just – after you got me that book of pressed flowers, I wanted to get you something similar for you…”

“It’s wonderful,” I repeated, kissing him passionately. He sighed happily into my mouth and I pulled back, beaming at him.

“That isn’t all, of course,” he grinned, “But we start small –“

“This isn’t all?” I asked, looking at him in bemusement.

“Well you had also gotten me some other gifts, I can’t stop at the tooth,” Neville shrugged sheepishly.

“I also got you a botany book, and makeup, and finger nail polish,” I laughed.

“Yup!” Neville beamed, his eyes crinkling slightly, “I’m thinking purple today,” he held up his hand, his fingernails painted purple. I giggled.

“Beautiful,” I beamed. Neville kissed my forehead lovingly.

“Well, you’ll get the rest of your gifts throughout the day,” Neville smiled, “We should probably get going to breakfast.”

“Yeah,” I beamed, getting dressed as he did, enjoying watching his naked back move and twist as he pulled on his clothes. I would never get over the sight of him naked. He turned and saw me watching him and smirked slightly.

“Like what you see?” he asked, his shirt open slightly. I walked up to him and kissed him, wrapping my arms around his naked stomach underneath his shirt.

“Obviously,” I grinned. He laughed.

“Well, _I_ am obviously your _last_ present, tonight,” he reassured, wiggling his eyebrows.

“I will deeply enjoy unwrapping you,” I laughed. He kissed me again, grinning with me, as we went downstairs to the Great Hall.

“Happy Birthday!” Harry greeted instantly, already eating breakfast. Hermione next to him smiled widely as well.

“You’re the first of us who’s a legal, wixen adult – how does it feel?” she beamed.

“Honestly the exact same as before,’ I laughed.

“Well _that’s_ a disappointment,” Parvati sighed.

“Seriously, we were looking forward to feeling like some sort of magical change had come over us,” Dean chuckled.

“You’d think you’d feel different at least when you turn seventeen,” Seamus agreed. Blue hopped up on the table next to me as I sat down, eagerly looking at the plate of bacon.

“Oh Merlin, there are people here now – Maggie, control your pet,” Hermione begged.

“Blue, _no_ ,” I stated firmly as her snout inched towards the plate. She immediately snapped her head to face mine, her eyes looking at me reproachfully.

“ _No_ ,” I repeated, trying my hardest to not laugh, “ _Here,_ ” I pulled some of the bacon from the main plate and put it on a plate for her.

“I am so amused you get to take her around with you everywhere,” Ron snorted.

“She’s like a service dog,” I admitted softly.

“Service dog?” Parvati asked in confusion.

“Muggles often have a dog with them as a sort of permanent companion – they can help a person walk around if they’re blind, for example, or… provide comfort and care if someone is mentally… fragile,” Hermione admitted.

“Ah,” Parvati blushed in embarrassment, “Sorry.”

“Don’t be,” I reassured, “I’m doing much better, but, I still need her with me.”

Neville patted me lovingly on the shoulder and kissed the side of my head. McGonagall started going up and down the aisles for the tables then, handing out course schedules for the year. It all felt so _normal_ that I, personally, felt weirdly out of place.

“Mr. Finnegan, you need to take at _least_ three N.E.W.T. subjects –“

“I don’t find three _interesting_ enough –“

“You have a high enough grade in Astronomy. Take that.”

“ _Professor_ –“

“Don’t argue with me, Finnegan, you need three courses.”

“This is tyrannical rule –“

“No, Umbridge was tyrannical rule. You could also take potions, or –“

“Fine, Astronomy.”

McGonagall didn’t have any sort of discussion with Dean, who grinned at Seamus teasingly.

“Maggie,” she began, “Here you go.” There wasn’t really anything else to discuss given the day prior. I read it over as Neville got his next to me.

“Defense, Arithmancy, and Spellweaving on Monday,” I said cheerfully, “Tomorrow is Herbology, Transfiguration, and Charms… Charms, Defense and Arithmancy on Wednesday… Spellweaving, Herbology, and Care of Magical Creatures on Thursday… Transfiguration and Care of Magical Creatures on Friday.”

“I have all the same, except, no Spellweaving,” Neville beamed. I laughed.

“You know, we didn’t _have_ to have identical schedules,” I teased. Neville flushed slightly.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. I leaned up and kissed him.

“I understand, Nev, I’m sorry,” I reassured softly.

“I’m going to talk to Shae about this, I promise,” Neville reassured in return.

“Ginny had a point, though. There’s no way to fix this in the middle of a war,” I shrugged. We stared at each other for a little while before I buried my head in his chest and rested it there.

“Well, we don’t have anything in the first class block. I’m going to go get to work in the Greenhouses,” Neville beamed.

“I’m probably going to go talk to Herin,” I admitted, grimacing. We walked out to the Grounds together, Blue following Neville instead of me at my urging, given I didn’t feel like having to deal with her reaction to a large dragon.

It didn’t take me long to find her, presumably because she wasn’t required to hide any longer. She was waiting for me, her eyes flashing slightly.

“Herin, I’m sorry I haven’t –“ I began immediately.

“It is no worry,” Herin reassured, in a way that I was not expecting.

“Wait – you aren’t mad?”

“I understand what your world is like, to some extent,” Herin fluttered her wings slightly, “Dumbledore came and explained why you would not be meeting me until your new school year began.”

“Oh, good on him, then,” I breathed in relief, “I was so busy –“

“Yes, yes, well now you will be even more so,” Herin snorted slightly, “You must be ready.”

I groaned, “Are more dragons coming?”

“A good portion of our army. We have to fight,” Herin stated firmly.

I clenched my fists at my sides, but not in anger – rather, in determination.

“I’m ready,” I nodded firmly.

“There are whispers, off in the distance…” Herin paused, “One of the dragons of the north… the Death Eaters will be attacking us, soon.”

“Why?” I asked in shock, my entire body freezing up.

“We do not know,” Herin acknowledged, “But something has given them fear… perhaps us. Perhaps the dragons, and the fact that we are grouping up… and you are the nexus of it…”

“So they’re coming for me,” I stated dully, not feeling surprised.

“No…” Herin frowned, “No, that would be simpler. No, it seems that they would actively _avoid_ Hogwarts, but they’re… Voldemort is worried.”

“Worried?” I asked, frowning.

“There is something at Hogwarts that Voldemort does _not_ want blocked from him by a large crowd of dragons,” Herin snorted, “If this thing were not here, he would not come near. If you were not here, drawing all the dragons with you, he would not come near…”

“So the fact that I am drawing more dragons in, and they’ll probably be near Hogwarts, means he wants to get this thing back, before… why does it matter that a large group of dragons is coming?” I frowned.

“Dragons sense things. Real dragons, not Halflings, no offense,” Herin admitted.

“None taken,” I agreed.

“There’s dark magic in Hogwarts. Powerful dark magic,” Herin shuddered, “I thought, when that snake had been killed, it would be gone…”

“Still there?” I offered.

“Indeed. Voldemort doesn’t realize I’m already here, and have known for years… he worries that more coming means they’ll tell Dumbledore… but Dumbledore knows. He knows there’s something in the castle, and he doesn’t know where, or what,” Herin hissed angrily, “I could only tell him that there is something there… that’s all any of us could tell him…”

“But because Voldmort knows Dumbledore could know – or already knows – he’s coming to get whatever this is _back_ ,” I finished.

“Exactly,” Herin agreed, “But they’re still week. I believe they’re gathering more giants.”

“Jesus,” I groaned, covering my face in my hands.

“We will be _more_ than a match for them,” Herin snorted, “Never fear.”

I looked at her skeptically, “I reserve the right to be worried.”

“Fair,” Herin paused, “Will you be able to help?”

“Of course,” I nodded.

“Good,” Herin agreed, “Then I suppose nothing more need be said –“

“Thank you,” I cut her off, “For saving me, and saving my friends, and then saving my other friends at the end of the year.”

Herin looked startled.

“No need to thank –“

“There is every need,” I shook my head furiously, “You didn’t have to do that.”

“You are the reason the dragons have a chance,” Herin’s face contorted into a frown, the sort of expression she did not make before becoming more acquainted with humans, “I had to save you.”

“You didn’t have to save my friends, either time,” I shook my head.

“Your friends believed you, and were in trouble themselves…” Herin paused.

“Whether or not you _had_ to do this, then, I suppose is not what I mean… I just am grateful, so, thanks,” I sighed.

“I am happy to help,” Herin reassured.

“Well… I better go to class,” I sighed. It wasn’t a _quick_ journey into the forest.

“Yes. I will see you, I assume soon,” Herin nodded. I nodded back and ran out of the forest, going towards the greenhouses to find Blue and Neville and go back up to the castle for Defense class.

Neville was waiting for me, looking at me in some worry as I ran up to him and kissed him.

“What happened?” he asked.

“She was understanding about the whole I-have-exams-and-should-study thing,” I explained, “But… well… she thinks that the Death Eaters will attack Hogwarts.”

“ _Hogwarts_?” Neville gasped, “Why?”

“Dragons are here,” I shrugged, “And… real dragons can sense dark magic pretty well.”

“Wha –“

“There’s something dark in Hogwarts, Nev.”

Neville swallowed heavily, visibly gulping, “Is it…”

“It’s been around for years, who knows how long – decades, even. So, if it’s going to attack us, why hasn’t it before?” I reassured, “I doubt it’s something that’ll attack us. Just, something Voldemort wants to grab.”

 “Maybe he stored something here?” Neville asked.

“It _is_ safe,” I agreed.

“And he _did_ love it here,” Neville affirmed, “I mean, the Orphanage wasn’t his favorite place in the world… actively stopped unleashing the basilisk on everyone when there was a worry the school would be closed, went to drastic measures to ensure it stayed open…”

“How did he think he could get away with hiding something here that Dumbledore wouldn’t know about?” I shook my head.

“Maybe its in the Chamber of Secrets,” Neville grinned.

“Oh _god_ ,” I groaned.

“Think about it – makes sense!” he nodded eagerly.

“Well _fine_ , but I’ll tell Harry, he can talk to Dumbledore about it in their lessons,” I shook my head in amusement. Neville grinned and kissed me as we went up to the Defense against the Dark Arts classroom. Sirius was there, and a large group of sixth years still taking the class filed in – including all the ones from the DA, which was a comforting sight; even Siobhan, Lavender, and Seamus.

“File in, file in!” Sirius stated eagerly, clapping his hands together. Everyone stood around the room – the desks were all gone. Blue hobbled up to the front of the room, stood behind the desk, and crouched low into a sitting position, fluffing up like a bird and closing her eyes for a nap.

“Alright!” Sirius greeted eagerly, “I know many of you are uneasy I am teaching you in this class – after all, you grew up thinking of me as a Death Eater, one of Voldemort’s staunchest supporters.”

Many people flinched visibly – no one in the DA, but everyone else.

“First rule of this class – get used to me saying the name,” Sirius rolled his eyes, “By fearing his name, you give him more power. Second rule of this class – I am not a Death Eater. I was framed, and you can read the whole trial in the Daily Prophet, from a summer issue. We will not be discussing it further.”

No one did; in fact, everyone in the class was hanging onto Sirius’ every word.

“Third rule,” Sirius paused, looking around slowly, “I want you all to work hard. It is admirable that you are in this class… it is _necessary_ that you pay attention and work as hard as you can. Voldemort is back, and if I could require all students to take this, regardless of their O.W.L. grade, I would…”

Lisa, a girl not in the DA, visibly gulped.

“But, alas, N.E.W.T.s cannot be required, at least, not the way the school is currently run, and I had to require at least an E in the subject,” Sirius shook his head sadly, “I can only hope you will all pass on pointers to your classmates not present.”

I looked over at Harry and he grinned slightly at me.

“We will start out the semester with nonverbal spells,” Sirius paused, “Who can tell me what those are, then?”

Hermione immediately raised her hand. Sirius rolled his eyes, but called on her.

“They are spells cast without the use of a spoken incantation. They give your adversary no warning about what kind of magic you’re about to perform, giving you a split-second advantage,” she explained eagerly.

“Good, take five points for Gryffindor,” Sirius nodded, and Malfoy in the back of the room snorted angrily, “This isn’t easy to do. You need to be able to concentrate and focus on the spell, but there is nothing to be ashamed of if you cannot accomplish it. I have quite a frw friends who cannot, and it is not their fault. We will practice nonverbal spells, but if you cannot do it today, tomorrow, next month, or even by the end of the year, as long as you have tried your hardest, I will not take off any marks…”

I frowned nervously. Neville also did so next to me.

“I want you all to attempt to cast the disarming spell on an opponent without words. Do _not_ use another spell,” Sirius stated sternly, “We don’t need any accidents. Don’t block the attempt, but rather let your wand be taken. Take turns. Keep practicing silence… I’ll be moving about the room.”

I turned to Neville and faced him, swallowing heavily.

“I don’t think I can do this,” Neville groaned.

“Well, try,” I encouraged, smiling at him lovingly. Neville nodded and frowned at me, frowning for a long time, his face scrunched up in confusion as he tried to disarm me. He was good at defense, and had been the second best in the DA, but he was struggling here –

“It isn’t about being good at magic,” Sirius said from a corner of the room as he swept through it, looking like a German Shepherd guarding a flock of sheep, “It is about your state of mind… oftentimes, a nonverbal spell will be significantly less severe than a verbal one…”

“What do you mean by state of mind, professor?” Dean asked curiously in a corner of the room.

“I mean that, you could quite literally be a genius, but if your mind is not in the correct frame, you will be unable to perform a nonverbal spell. One demographic of individuals is completely incapable of performing them – can anyone wager a guess?” Sirius asked.

Silence fell over the classroom, and no one raised their hand – not even Hermione.

“That is fair,” Sirius sighed, “None of you have taken a psychology course. No, individuals with Attention Deficit Disorder – ADD – cannot perform this spell.”

I Frowned. I had no idea what that was.

“Individuals with ADD have trouble focusing and attending to tasks, and can become easily distracted, or zone out. There are other symptoms, but these are the ones that directly impede an individual affected by ADD’s ability to perform a nonverbal spell,” Sirius explained, “Another group of individuals who have great trouble are those afflicted with PTSD.”

I flushed heavily. So did Neville, looking at his shoes.

“PTSD?” Dean asked.

“Post-traumatic stress disorder,” Sirius explained, “A condition that stems from an individual suffering through a traumatic experience. It often affects the mind and how it processes and deals with memories, and thus, prevents it from being able to concentrate one hundred percent of the time.”

A long silence fell over the class. I felt like I was going to melt into the floor.

“Continue! This is not a psychology lesson!” Sirius urged after the silence had gone one for a while.

I stared at Neville, and he stared back at me nervously.

“It’s okay if we never get this,” he reassured lovingly. I nodded, flushing madly.

We kept trying, but neither of us was able to perform a nonverbal spell that entire afternoon, the two of us just staring at each other, growing more purple in the face by the second as we did so.

Hermione, twenty minutes in, managed to disarm Harry, to literally no one’s surprise.

“Twenty points to Gryffindor!” Sirius praised. Harry beamed at Hermione, and she blushed.

Not long after that, Malfoy also managed to disarm Blaise Zabini noverbally. Sirius also awarded him 20 points, but his face was contorted slightly at having to do so.

“He really needs to keep his cool more!” Hermione hissed reproachfully.

“Ah, let Malfoy feel how it feels to not be the favorite of someone for once,” Neville snorted. I grinned with him.

“Sirius has to be a professional!” Hermione scolded, “He isn’t a student anymore!”

“Well, try telling _him_ that,” Harry shook his head.

“He’s a stubborn one, that Sirius Black,” I snorted.

Hermione groaned loudly and held her face in her hands as people continued to not succeed in stunning each other around us.

“Well, that’s enough practice for the day,” Sirius stated as the class drew to a close, “You all did wonderfully. We will do more practice on noverbals on Wednesday; next week we will begin our study of Unforgivable Curses. I am aware you have already studied them extensively under… Barty Crouch Jr., posing as Moody… but… well, it never hurts to go over them again. We will then study other violent curses for the rest of the fall term. In the winter term, we will be going over advanced defensive spells. In the summer term, we will be studying the more dangerous magical creatures, even more so than those covered in your third year under Lupin. Please note that, to undo the damage caused last year, very little of this class will be textbook based… be prepared to use magic each and every class.”

Many students made small sounds of eagerness; a few (including myself) cheered.

“Now, now,” but Sirius was smiling, “Class dismissed!”

I walked out with Neville, nudging my head into his arm; he wrapped his arm lovingly around me.

“We have Arithmancy in an hour and a half,” Hermione reminded behind us.

“I have such a nice, relaxing afternoon,” Harry sighed dreamily.

“You should probably _practice nonverbal spells_ , Harry,” Hermione scolded.

“He just said in class those with PTSD will probably never –“

“He didn’t say _never_ , he said you’d have a harder time with it, and frankly I think that means you should keep trying,” Hermione snorted.

“I have other things to worry about,” Harry shook his head.

“When do your lessons with Dumbledore start?” Neville asked eagerly.

“Not sure. Tomorrow, maybe?” Harry offered.

“Also, Harry, we have potions,” Hermione reminded.

“Yeah, with _Slughorn_ ,” Harry shrugged, “Who cares? He’s relatively easy to follow…”

“There is something I _greatly dislike_ about that man,” Hermione scowled.

“His blatant favoritism?” Neville snorted.

“The fact that he is the personification of Wizarding world prejudice and yet also seems to think he is _not_ prejudiced?” I agreed.

“Oh remember when he said it was remarkable I was so good as a witch?” Hermione snorted, “And then said he wasn’t prejudiced against muggle-borns?”

 “Remember when he went on and on about all his Ministry connections? Talk about taking full advantage of the power structure,” Harry shook his head.

Neville squeezed my hand tightly and I smiled lovingly at him.

“Don’t you love how he’s constantly trying to get you to like him?” Hermione snorted.

“Oh god, I hate it. And I don’t mean that I _like_ Slughorn’s class, it’s just a marked improvement over Snape’s, and well, we’re taking it, so, that,” Harry scowled.

“That’s true,” Neville nodded, “And if I had any interest in the subject whatsoever, I may have studied harder to continue with it, given it was Slughorn…”

“Five years of abuse don’t generally leave one fond of something,” I laughed.

“Generally, no,” Neville rolled his eyes.

“Well, you two enjoy your break then,” Hermione smirked.

“Oh we will, but we have, ya know, arithmancy and lunch,” I stuck my tongue out at her.

“True,” Hermione nodded.

“Time to go and do absolutely nothing and be absolutely bored,” Harry stated dully.

“Oh perk up,” I laughed.

“Seriously, whenever you guys go to Arithmancy I’m all by myself and it’s _bollocks_ ,” Harry grunted.

“Do you get lonely?” Neville asked in amusement.

“Harry, a good portion of the time it’s just us reading in the common room anyway because Maggie and Neville have gone to their room, I don’t see why you can’t handle forty-five minutes by yourself,” Hermione stated brusquely.

Harry flushed madly and muttered something under his breath that I couldn’t quite make out.

“You alright?” Neville asked in confusion.

“Yeah,” Harry responded defensively, “Why?”

“You’re acting… odd,” I frowned at him.

“No I’m not. I’m going to go practice flying – haven’t been able to in ages thanks to the great toad. You all have fun with maths,” Harry responded much too quickly before running off in the opposite direction as the rest of us.

“What the bloody hell was that?” Neville demanded.

“That boy grows odder every day,” Hermione shook her head sadly.

“It’s the chosen-one madness, I’m tellin’ ya,” I grinned happily at her. She stuck her tongue out at me as we all headed to the Arithmancy classroom.

“So how much am I going to cry this term?” Neville asked seriously.

“You’re the one who elected to take it!” Hermione laughed.

“Yes, because it’s _useful_ , not because it doesn’t make me _cry_ ,” Neville shook his head in bemusement.

“Well, we’ll see,” I soothed, patting him on the arm. He grinned at me and leaned in to kiss me.

“Get a room,” Hermione groaned.

“We’re in class, we can’t,” I pointed out.

“Then wait until you can!” Hermione insisted.

“Now how is that fair? I gotta kiss Maggie as much as possible on her birthday!” Neville insisted, beaming.

“I… I can’t argue with that, somehow,” Hermione frowned so much she was practically making a sound. She was frowning loudly, which sent me into peals of laughter that hurt my sides and sent me falling out of my chair.

“Settle down, now, settle down,” Professor Vector urged. I quickly sat up and in my chair, clutching my sides with mirth as Neville rubbed my back while smirking.

“Now, welcome to N.E.W.T. arithmancy. The fact that so many of you have chosen to continue with this subject is a fairly rare event, and you should all be proud,” Vector beamed. It was just Terry Boot, Padma Patil, and us in the class now, and they beamed at us from the other side of the room.

“This term we will be using advanced linear algebra to make exceptionally complex predictions about the future and observations about the natural world. You will be required to conduct a personal research project over the course of the year and it will make up the majority of your grade, rather than an exam. I am looking forward to great things from each and every one of you. Now, the basics of linear algebra…” Vector continued. Neville immediately started scribbling down notes and I did the same, wanting to do well in this class, given its relevance to, well, everything I was interested in.

The class, as such, flew by; it was all notes and math and figures and formulae and equations that felt like they would go right over my head if I didn’t make _absolutely sure_ to pay attention. If this was what N.E.W.T.s were like, I was both cautiously excited and terrified. Hermione had filled up about ten pages of parchment with notes; Neville and I had similar amounts.

We walked out of the classroom, each of us shaking our hands madly to get out the soreness from all the note taking. Neville looked rather pale.

“You can do this,” I promised him, gently rubbing his arm.

“I hope so,” he visibly swallowed.

“You can,” Hermione agreed, “Just have to work hard and focus.”

Neville nodded eagerly, looking determined. It was lunchtime, now, and he eagerly pulled me aside from Hermione, who rolled her eyes and continued to the Great Hall.

“Time for your next present!” he declared eagerly. I giggled softly.

“You’re being much too silly,” I laughed, looking up at him lovingly.

“No, that’s impossible,” he shook his head in bemusement, running to the dresser of our room. Blue chirped next to me curiously, and I leaned down to scritchle behind her crest.

“So what is this then?” I asked curiously as he handed me another small box. He just smiled at me and shrugged, and I opened it to find a two by two square, with a picture of Neville in one corner, Harry in another, Hermione in another, and Blue in the last. I flipped it over and saw Elena, Ginny, Sam, and my parents.

“Oh,” I whispered, tears coming to my eyes.

“I couldn’t find a picture of them separately – all the pictures I could find were of them together…” Neville admitted sheepishly.

“That’s okay,” I managed to whisper, the tears coming up faster now.

“Oh shite – you hate it –“

“I love it,” I mumbled, “I’m crying because –“ I couldn’t get it out. Neville quickly kissed away the tears from my eyes.

“I know, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you sad,” he whispered.

“It’s okay,” I reassured softly.

“Really?” he asked nervously.

“Yes, because I love it, and it’s perfect. I’m going to keep it with me all the time,” I reassured, putting it into my shoulder bag to prove so. Neville smiled wider and kissed me softly as my tears finally slowed. He continued to kiss me until he was sure I was done crying, and then squeezed my hand tightly. We walked together back to the Great Hall, and I smiled happily up at him.

“How goes the birthday?” Harry smirked as we sat down.

“Wonderfully,” I responded, beaming over at Neville who lovingly smiled back. Ginny groaned in disgust next to us, but when I looked over at her incredulously she was smiling.

“Well here’s the gift from us,” Harry rolled his eyes.

“Us?” I asked in amusement.

“We all chipped in to get you something,” Hermione explained, “Us, Ginny, and Sam. We know it’s a bit of a cop out, but we had an idea and we didn’t want to get you something else.”

“Alright,” I laughed, “Er… where?”

“Sam _should_ be bringing it in soon…” Harry frowned.

“Here I am,” Sam grunted. I looked up to see that he was carrying… a full sized Velociraptor skeleton, mounted, on a wheeled cart.

“What the hell?” I shouted.

“It’s a model, calm your tits,” Sam snorted.

“We knew you wanted to have detailed bone diagrams and we thought, why not do one better?” Hermione beamed.

“So we all chipped in to pay a wizard in Mongolia to use magic to make an identical cast of one of the more complete skeletons,” Ginny continued.

“Aunt Isuel got it while she was over in Korea, and here we are,” Sam finished.

“Oh my god,” I gasped in surprise.

“Since it was modeled using magic, it should be pretty much the same as an original fossil…” Harry continued.

I nodded eagerly, basically squealing in surprise and joy. Neville was chuckling next to me.

“Wish I had thought of that –“

“Oh please, _we_ could barely afford it and Harry’s _rich_ –“

“Oi!”

“Well am I wrong?”

“You should probably take it up to your room after you eat, though…” Harry frowned.

“Obviously,” I nodded, but I was too distracted to eat, eagerly examining the skull and trying to look inside it.

“Maggie, _eat_ ,” Neville urged, laughing slightly. I stuck my tongue out at him and basically scarfed down food, much too eager to look at the skull to pay attention to anything else.

“She still has another class today!” Neville laughed.

“We figured Lunch would be better because there are fewer people,” Hermione groaned.

“Well now she’ll be obsessed –“

“We have Spellweaving, she’ll bounce back,” Sam reassured.

“Aren’t you supposed to be at the Ravenclaw table?” Harry snorted.

“It’s one of my best friends’ birthday! How am I supposed to be somewhere else?” Sam demanded, grinning. I finally finished my food and went back to looking at the skull, completely mesmerized.

“Holy crap, that girl just scarfed down all that food –“ I heard someone say while walking by.

‘That’s Maggie Johnson – Harry Potter’s adopted sister –“

“You mean the one that bites people?”

I looked up sharply, watching in shock as a group of first years scurried past us. Harry burst into loud laughter.

“That’s _still_ going around?” I shouted in surprise.

“Well, I mean, you were a violent lunatic last year, so biting people is an improvement I think,” Ginny offered.

“But that reputation is from _third year!”_ I screeched. Hermione was giggling happily behind her hand.

“You know,” Neville said thoughtfully. I looked up at him in confusion.

“What?”

“I think I’m the only person who enjoys you biting them,” Neville stated firmly.

I felt my jaw drop in shock and my face color in rapid embarrassment. Hermione’s fork clattered to her plate. Sam and Ginny looked at us in shock. Harry watched us for a long while as Neville beamed _proudly_ , before standing up rapidly. He fumed for a few seconds, glaring at us angrily, before literally flipping his portion of the table, plates and cups flying everywhere. Everyone shouted in protest as Harry walked away angrily.

“I DID _NOT NEED TO KNOW THAT, LONGBOTTOM!_ ” he shouted into the air and I watched in amused shock as he left the hall. Hermione waved her wand – of course she was already using nonverbal spells – and all the plates and things went back to where they belonged.

“That was dramatic,” Ginny laughed.

“Since when is Harry _not_?” Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Good point,” Neville sniggered.

“Oi! No talking, you!” Sam jabbed Neville with the end of his fork, “Harry was right, we didn’t need to know that!”

“I’m just saying, it’s not a bad sensation,” Neville grinned cheekily. I flushed furiously but laughed with him, enjoying the torment this caused our friends enough to make up for my own personal embarrassment.

“Oh my god – so that one time you had all those marks on your neck –“ Ginny groaned, burying her face in her hands.

“You didn’t think that was -?” Neville asked in confusion.

“There were _so many_ that I thought it was something with your plants!” Ginny stated in horror.

“Nope,” Neville shook his head.

“Oh my god,” Hermione groaned.

“Harry was _not_ melodramatic,” Sam stated grimly.

“Oh check this out,” Neville grinned eagerly, looking at me briefly for confirmation. I nodded, grinning slightly, and he moved aside his sweater to show the very dark mark from where I had bit him on the shoulder the evening previously.

“Oh come _on_ Neville!” Hermione begged.

“I don’t need to see that!” Ginny agreed.

“It was a fun one,” I giggled.

“Oh my _god_ ,” Sam shouted.

“Stop,” Hermione screeched.

“ _Please!_ ” Ginny begged.

“This is too much fun,” I laughed, “See, I was in the middle of –“

“ _NO!_ ” all three shouted at once, and they stood up and left the table immediately. Neville burst into laughter and hugged me tightly from the side.

“I love you so bloody much,” he giggled into my ear.

“I love _you_ so bloody much,” I laughed.

“I guess you better get to Spellweaving soon, huh?” he asked mournfully.

“You can go work on your plants!” I reassured eagerly. Neville nodded, grinning, and we got up and parted ways. I eagerly skipped to Flitwick’s classroom, sitting down next to Hermione, who was glaring at me.

“What?” I asked innocently.

“I did _not_ need to know that,” she snorted.

“Know what? You didn’t let me finish!” I giggled.

“You’re lucky it’s your damn birthday,” she muttered mutinously. Sam was sitting next to us and nodded eagerly. Ernie soon filed in, beaming at all of us eagerly.

“What did I miss, gents?” he asked.

“Nothing,” Sam and Hermione responded in angered unison. I just giggled.

Ernie paused, frowning at all of us, before shaking his head madly and responding, “Alright then.” He sat down next to Sam and we all watched the front of the room eagerly.

The door opened again; I turned around and looked in horror as Malfoy walked into the room. He looked back at all of us in equal anger.

“What are _you_ doing here, Johnson? Don’t you nearly fail charms every damn term?” he demanded furiously.

“She worked hard to get here, Malfoy, you know she’s the best bloody transfiguration student in the school,” Sam snapped.

“She’s going to flunk out of the beginning of this,” Malfoy snorted.

“Not if I can help it!” I hissed back.

“Please, aren’t you a nutcase?” Malfoy rolled his eyes, “Look at your wrist! Did you bloody _cut_ yourself?”

I immediately hid my wrist from view, hanging my head madly.

“Oi!” Hermione shouted angrily.

“Leave her alone!” Sam hissed.

“What the hell is your problem?” Ernie agreed.

“Just saying, the mentally deranged shouldn’t be –“

“That’s _enough!_ ”

We all turned around to see McGonagall enter the room, looking at us all sternly.

“You all need to be able to get along if you’re going to survive the next two years of classes together! Malfoy, sit _down!_ ” McGonagall said sternly. He did so, grumbling, as Flitwick walked into the room.

“ _Now_ ,” McGonagall sighed, “Welcome to Spellweaving, where you will learn how new spells are made and make your own, over the course of the next two years. This is a very specialized type of transfiguration, and so for the bulk of the course I will be your teacher. However, in order to do this, you have to be able to manipulate the elements, _without a wand_. This skill is called elementalism, and it is more similar to charms. Thus, for this term, Flitwick will be your instructor. After the winter holiday, I will take over. Carry on, Filius,” she stated, and then left the room in a whirl of green robes.

Flitwick turned back to all of us, and I gulped slightly. This was it. This was the show of whether or not I could do this, do what I needed to do to help the dragons.

I felt like an entire _Argentinosaurus_ had landed on my shoulders.

“Elementalism is the art of manipulating the elements without a wand,” Flitwick began, “It was the first method of magic, and it is the most primal. The first wixen used it when humans evolved, and though we manipulate it and change it and modify it to great extents, it will always be the most important magical manipulation method in our arsenal. It takes a great amount of magical energy to control and use – which is why spells were invented in the first place. Many people can use magic with the help of a wand an an incantation – fewer without the incantation – and infinitely fewer without the wand.”

I swallowed heavily.

“However, nonverbal spells and wandless magic require different disciplines. Wandless magic is a primal thing – an instinctual thing. It is, after all, how we evolved to utilize magical energy. There are four elements that are manipulated – the four classical elements of magic. Yes, muggles have redefined what the word element means in order to describe things in a way more useful to them – they do not use magic, and thus, have no use for this concept of the word _element_ ,” Flitwick pausd, “You should not mix up the two terms if that situation arises.”

“What do they call elements? Their different types of stupidity?” Draco snorted.

“No,” Flitwick responded firmly, “An element in the scientific sense is a thing that cannot be made smaller and still be a unique entity. All elements are composed of similar smaller particles – but its the number and arrangement of them that make an element what it is. They have… oh, over a hundred of them now.”

Draco was silent at this. Sam and Hermione grinned at each other.

“A _magical_ element is that which is one of the fundamental components of magical energy. These things are used in spells and potions and everything else we do here at Hogwarts, even if you cannot tell by first glance,” Flitwick continued, “These elements are _air, water, earth,_ and _fire._ ” He waved his wand and the words showed up on the blackboard. I immediately copied them down.

“Each element represents a certain entity, a certain constant of the universe,” Flitwick continued, “Air, for example, is the element of _freedom_. Air moves where it pleases and does what it pleases, with minimal influence by the outside environment. Similarly, that element represents freedom and joy, kind-heartedness, and yet also flakiness and inconsistency. Please write all this down.”

I scribbled it eagerly, biting my lip with concentration.

“Fire is the element of energy,” Flitwick explained, “And thus it is also the element of destruction, but also of life, of creation and anger and bravery and passion. Water is the element of change, of mobility, of flexibility, of calm, of empathy, and yet also of dejection and lack of conviction and steadfastness. Finally, earth is the element of stubbornness, _of_ steadfastness, consistency, perseverance, but lack of willingness to change, and lack of empathy. All four together make a whole; all four together allow for balance in the universe. _I hope you are all copying this down_.”

I had already scribbled everything out.

“All four are needed to invent spells, though any one spell might only use one or two. All four are needed in potions and herbology and everything else you’ve done in your time here. However, you will find that one element is easier for you to manipulate than the others. That is typical. You will be able to manipulate all four, however, one will come easier and faster to you than the others, and it will be your preferred one. Typically, it matches up to your personality,” Flitwick continued.

“Maggie, if you aren’t fire I’ll eat my hat,” Hermione stated under her breath.

I snorted softly.

“Now, you’ll find that the preferred element of an individual has more implications than just their personality. For example, you will find that the elements of two individuals affect their relationship – typically, two people with the same element do not get along well; their personalities are too similar and clash. Though these differences _can_ be overcome, they will not be as close as they would be with individuals of different elements. On the other hand, individuals with opposite elements – so water and fire, and earth and air – tend to pair up more often than not, having complementary personalities, and often make the best partners and friends. Finally, in magic, groups of four individuals are very powerful – very powerful indeed – especially if one of each element is represented in that group. For example, the Hogwarts Houses were each one of four elements – Gryffindor, Fire; Hufflepuff, Earth; Ravenclaw, Air; and Slytherin, Water. The inherent power of the number 3 – if you’ve taken _any_ arithmancy – also contributes to this, making twelve the most powerful magical number.”

I looked over at Hermione and she smirked back at me. Sam rolled his eyes.

“Now, I will ask that each of you practice summoning your element. You will need to focus, but it will come from your _gut_ , and it will power your every action. Before you will be a bowl of water and a bowl of earth. Air you can get from the surroundings… and fire is, sadly, something you must summon from within. Though the other three are limited in that the element must be physically present for you to manipulate it, fire is limited in that you have to utilize your own heat and energy in your body, and If you do not have enough, you could potentially drain too much, and die… be careful,” Flitwick finished.

“ _Can_ you use available fire?” Ernie asked nervously.

“Yes, but it’s less than ideal, and you have less control over it. We will be going over how best to manipulate each element as we go along, but first we must determine which element is each of yours,” Flitwick explained.

Hermione immediately started waving her hands at the bowls, but nothing was really happening. I was focusing immensely on trying to make fire appear, struggling on the feeling in my gut, knowing instinctually that that _had_ to be my element. Sam was struggling next to me, his face in his hands, his eyes scrunched up in pain. Ernie was wringing his wrists and trying hard as well, but he was visibly sweating.

Honestly, we all just looked pretty pathetic.

Which is why it was frustrating as _all hell_ when Mafloy suddenly made a puff of fire appear in thin air. He shouted in surprise, and Flitwick immediately made water wash over it, the rest of us watching in shock.

“Good! Good job, Mr. Malfoy! Ten points to Slytherin!” Flitwick praised.

I grunted angrily under my breath.

“Keep trying, all of you!”

So I kept trying, grunting angrily with the effort, trying to get fire to move – and then water and air and earth because maybe I was just off base – but nothing, nothing happened at all.

Was I just fundamentally unable to do it?”

The class was almost over; I still hadn’t managed to produce any fire. Malfoy had managed to do it again twice more, and the second time it was actually controlled. By the end of the class, Ernie had managed to move earth, and looked relieved at having done so.

Sam, Hermione, and I had done nothing.

“Never fear, never fear, this is a normal ratio!” Flitwick urged, “We will pick this up again on Thursday. If you practice on your own, please be careful – in fact, I actively discourage it. Good work all of you! Have a good day!”

I grumbled louder, grabbing my bag and huffing out of the room. Hermione held onto my arm worriedly.

“You’re not going to try to practice on you rown, are you?” she asked nervously.

“Damn right I –“

“Maggie you mustn’t! You know perfectly well your element is going to be fire and you _know_ that that’s the hardest one to control at the outset!” Hermione hissed.

“Seriously,” Sam agreed, “Look, I gotta get to Medicinal, but don’t practice on your own, seriously –“

“Fine,” I harrumphed angrily.

“Oh dear,” Ernie frowned as Sam ran off, looking at me in worry over his shoulder.

“Maggie just needs to _calm down_ and take a step back,” Hermione urged.

“Yeah,” I muttered irritably.

“Hey! Neville is still giving you the best seventeenth birthday ever, right?” Hermione grinned. I looked at her and smiled slightly despite myself.

“Just focus on that and you’ll be fine,” Hermione promised. I nodded, and turned to go back to my room.

Neville was waiting there, and he eagerly pulled me in for a hug.

“How was Spellweaving?” he asked eagerly. I grunted in annoyance.

“Oh no,” he groaned. I explained what we had learned, how elementalism worked, and how I hadn’t even gotten _close_ to using an element.

“You’ll get there Mags,” Neville promised lovingly, rubbing my back somewhat, “I promise.”

“Alright,” I muttered angrily.

“Hey! I still have _two_ presents for you!” Neville reminded happily. I looked at him and grinned slightly.

“Oh all right, let me have them,” I giggled. He pulled out a large package and another smaller one. I opened the larger one first, and found a very large encyclopedia of dinosaurs inside.

“Aww,” I laughed, beaming at him, “This the new edition?”

“Yup,” Neville nodded, “All known genera as of 1994.”

“Fantastic,” I grinned, leaning in and kissing him, “Thank you my love.”

“Of _course,_ Mags,” Neville reassured, “Now open the other one.”

I did, and inside was a small ball.

“What’s this, then?” I asked curiously.

“Well, it’s kind of like a Remembrall. I have a similar one,” Neville held up a tiny ball from his pocket, “When you squeeze it, rather than tell you you’ve forgotten something, it tells the person on the other end that you’re thinking of them, by warming up – so if it were in my pocket, it would be warm there.”

“Oh,” I whispered in amazement, touched beyond belief.

“You like it?” he asked nervously.

“Yes,” I nodded, leaning up and kissing him, “I _love_ it.”

“And I love you,” he grinned. I kissed him again and whispered, “I love you.”

And really, I didn’t need much more to have a truly lovely birthday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please Comment! I've been having some pretty bad writer's block, even though I've plotted the whole rest out - so seriously some encouragement is needed. I'll try to get out another chapter soon.


	86. Chapter Eighty-Five: September 3 - 7, 1996, Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Interchanging mind control   
> Come, let the revolution take its toll   
> If you could flick the switch and open your third eye   
> You'd see that we should never be afraid to die   
> (so come on) 
> 
> Rise up and take the power back   
> It's time the fat cats had a heart attack   
> You know that their time's coming to an end   
> We have to unify and watch our flag ascend   
> (so come on) 
> 
> They will not force us   
> They will stop degrading us   
> They will not control us   
> We will be victorious   
> (so come on)"   
> ~ Muse, "Uprising"

Chapter 85: September 3 – 7, 1996, Hogwarts

There wasn’t actually a whole lot left to say about starting N.E.W.T. courses. Yeah, everything was hard and they tried to strike the fear of god into us, but ultimately that wasn’t much of a change from starting O.W.L.s. And after the summer of hell, somehow, this was significantly less frightening.

The actual challenging thing was the fact that I couldn’t manipulate the elements.

“You’ll get it eventually, Mags,” Neville soothed one morning at breakfast as I literally tried to set the table on fire by glaring at it.

“Don’t burn the rest of us down in the process,” Harry begged, his mouth filled with food.

“Harry, do _not_ become Ron,” Hermione scolded.

Harry flushed furiously and swallowed the rest of his food, flushing madly with embarrassment.

“What’s wrong?” Neville asked in concern.

“Nothing, I’m going to go fly out on the pitch, got to get more practice in. See you lot later,” Harry responded hurriedly, basically running out of the Great Hall.

“What’s up with him?” Neville asked in confusion. Hermione shrugged wordlessly.

Blue chirped nervously next to me and I leaned down to gently scratch her, smiling as she made the face and rubbed up against me.

“So when do we start therapy with Shae?” Hermione asked, frowning at the staff table, which was empty.

“When she gets here, I suppose,” I offered, sighing slightly.

“It would be good for that to start, soon,” Neville admitted, running a hand nervously through his hair. Sometime when he did that, his hand would shake. Sometimes the trembling was more noticeable than other times. Being reminded that he wasn’t doing well made it shake now, and I reached to grab his hand and gently rub the top of it with my thumb.

“When you think of everything the others had to go through…” Hermione sighed mournfully, turning to look over at the Hufflepuff table. Ernie often looked… infinitely sad when he thought no one was looking. This was decidedly one of those times.

“We should have a DA meeting soon, maybe?” Ginny offered near us, “Let everyone get together, hang out, blow off some steam? Not the same as therapy but still… useful.”

“Yeah,” I agreed immediately, “Doesn’t even have to be serious – just – for fun, and everything.”

“Sounds like an ideal plan,” Ginny nodded, “I’ll talk to people, maybe Saturday night? Shouldn’t be any Quidditch tryouts or anything.”

“Good call,” Neville nodded. Ginny left the table and we all got up and went to our various classes, learning advanced plants, spells, and formulae, but at the very least at a manageable pace.

Spellweaving was first thing on Thursday, and I groaned into my hands as I got up to walk to hell with Hermione. Sam quickly scurried up to greet us.

“Are you ready to completely fail again, Sam?” Hermione asked sadly as I continued groaning, Blue rubbing up nervously against me.

“Let’s try to have a _little_ more faith than that,” Sam frowned at Hermione.

“I don’t even know if I can do it at all,” I moaned, “I’m _so bad_ at charms…”

“It’s not really about charms though, you heard him. Yeah the actual _manipulation_ of the element is charms-like, but the _ability_ to do it in the first place is more about your gut instinct, which you have _plenty_ of. If anyone isn’t going to be able to do it, it’s me,” Hermione groaned. Sam rubbed her shoulder comfortingly, causing her to frown slightly.

“Maybe it’s just our minds getting in the way. I dunno,” I muttered angrily.

“Ernie and Malfoy are just as smart as us,” Sam shook his head.

“Yes, but… I dunno… maybe we just think things through differently,” I grumbled.

“Well regardless, we have to keep trying, or else this whole thing is a wash,” Hermione stated firmly. We reached the classroom and I slammed my books angrily on the desk, fuming privately to myself. Hermione frowned at me and I shrugged wordlessly.

“If we’re not careful, she’ll make the room explode,” Malfoy stated ildly, making Sam leap up in anger.

“Just ignore him,” Hermione hissed.

“First he calls her crazy, then –“

“She is crazy!” Malfoy laughed derisively.

“Fuck –“

“I am crazy,” I admitted in a hiss, “And so are you, Malfoy.”

Malfoy stared at me furiously.

“Or do you still think Voldemort’s the _good guy?_ ” I snorted, “Your father’s in Azkaban, your mother is disgraced, many people died last June, and yet, you sit here all high and mighty and proud – “

“Fuck off!” Malfoy shouted.

“Am I wrong?” I hissed angrily.

“You have _no idea_ what you are talking about!” Malfoy roared.

“Don’t I?!” I laughed.

“You just shut up about things you don’t know anything about, Johnson!” Malfoy growled.

“I will yell and scream at you all I like because of how you’ve treated me and my friends in the past!” I responded angrily.

“SETTLE. DOWN.”

Flitwick walked in then, looking angrier than I had ever seen him. I sat at my desk, fuming, my hands curled into fists on the sides of it. Hermione looked at me worriedly.

“We will continue to practice your element finding today. Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Macmillan, you both have found your primary elements; I would like you to practice with them to get better control of them. Mr. Lee, Miss Johnson, and Miss Granger, keep trying to pinpoint your elements. I will be here if you have any questions,” Flitwick explained. I sat back and I concentrated again, my brow furrowing as I tried to make fire appear in my hand once more.

“This is the most horrible thing,” Sam grunted under his breath angrily.

“You’ll get it!” Hermione tried to reassure, but she was also purple in the face. I was so mad that I smashed the bowl with the water in it, spilling it everywhere. Everyone shouted in surprise and Flitwick cleaned all of it up with his wand.

“Miss Johnson, control yourself!” he squeaked.

“I can’t do this!” I roared angrily.

“Don’t go all primal on us, you freak,” Malfoy snapped.

“Oh would you just _shut up!_ ” I screamed at him.

“Why is she even here? She’s horrible at charms, this is ridiculous!” Malfoy shouted at Flitwick.

“She showed the necessary ability –“

“You’re just playing favorites –“

“Shut up, you prat!” Sam roared.

“Make me!” Malfoy laughed derisively.

“Calm down, all of you!” Flitwick shouted.

“I’ll be calm if _she’s_ calm –“

“I can’t control my anger that well –“

“You’re a maniac!”

“TAKES ONE TO KNOW ONE!”

“You take that back you –“

“Leave her alone!” Hermione screamed, and as Draco started to fling fire at me, she managed to move the earth from the bowl and it blocked the fire, crumbling instantly to the floor afterwards. I looked in amazement as it did so, and then back at her.

“Holy shite,” I breathed. Hermione’s eyes were wide in amazement and shock.

“Good work, Miss Granger! Earth it is for you as well, then!” Flitwick squeaked. Hermione’s hands were shaking and she stared at them in amazement.

“Keep working, all of you! Miss Granger, get to work on _controlling_ it, now!” Flitwick urged. Hermione swallowed, but was still shaking as she and Ernie took turns working with the earth. It still took her a while to move it again, but she did manage to do so, which was more than what could be said for Sam and I. The class ended, and we still had done nothing.

“Well, we’ll pick this up again on Monday. See you all then!” Flitwick dismissed. Malfoy immediately rushed out of the room. Hermione and Ernie looked at Sam and I sadly.

“I’ve never had this much trouble getting something before,” Sam muttered angrily, stomping out of the room without another word. I followed in a similar fashion, too tired to talk about it any longer.

Needless to say, I welcomed the DA party that Saturday evening. The Room of Requirement was all decked out in the proper regalia; balloons and streamers and a radio was playing The Weird Sisters in a corner. I went and perched on a chair as we waited for people to arrive, nestling against Neville, who wrapped his arms around me and squeezed me lovingly.

“You’ll get it, Mags, I promise,” Neville soothed, kissing the side of my head lovingly. I sighed and frowned.

“I just wish I had someone to talk to about this,” I muttered.

“You have me?” Sam offered grimly, walking over to us after having just entered the room.

“Eh, not the same as, say, an adult,” I shook my head.

“Fair enough,” Sam admitted, looking apologetic. I shrugged and stared at my shoes as more people filed in and Harry ran to turn on the music for the room. Neville grabbed my hand and pulled me to my feet, much to my surprise; I shrieked happily and eagerly twirled about in his arms, laughing and nestling against his chest.

“Come on, Maggie, we’ve talked about this,” Neville murmured soothingly.

“I know,” I agreed softly.

“They died so you could be happy, someday, and we’re going to be happy as much as we can be, every day. I promise,” Neville urged, kissing the top of my head. I sighed, and nestled up closer to him closing my eyes and breathing in the smell of him happily.

“I promise, we’re going to live for them,” Neville murmured even more softly. I nodded and held tighter to his neck.

“Oi! This isn’t a Maggie and Neville make out in public party!” Harry snapped, pulling us apart. I glared at him and he grinned cheekily back at me.

“He has a point,” Neville admitted, laughing. I turned and walked over to where Nadia and Ginny were chatting in a corner, leaning on Ginny’ shoulder (she was about two inches taller than me) and nodded happily at Nadia. Nadia rolled her eyes at me, tucking some of her hair into her hijab again.

“How’s it going?” Ginny laughed, looking at me in bemusement.

“Swimmingly,” I answered cheerfully.

“So when is that therapist you spoke of getting here?” Nadia asked curiously.

“Is that all I’m good for?” I snorted.

“No,” she rolled her eyes, “I just saw you crying a bit back there.”

I shrugged, averting my eyes slightly.

“Hey, it’s alright,” Nadia reassured calmly, “Your parents died. You’d be mental to _not_ be crying.”

I nodded, sniffling slightly and wiping off my runny nose. Ginny patted me kindly on the head.

“Frankly, out of everyone, I got out the least scathed last year,” Nadia sighed, “Given how much I was instigating rebellion…”

Ginny giggled slightly.

“But I’m not trans, and I’m single, so I never had a reason for Umbridge to freak out at me about that sort of thing… nope, just some good old fashioned Islamophobia,” Nadia sighed.

“I’m sorry that happened to you,” I frowned.

“It’s okay. It’s a test of my faith, I suppose? I remember reading that somewhere. I dunno,” Nadia shrugged, “At any rate, Parkinson is avoiding me now, after I hexed her last year –“

“You hexed her? I didn’t get to hear this part,” I grinned.

“Nor did I!” Ginny agreed eagerly.

“Well at the end of the year, when we finally took them all down, I found Parkinson in the corridor. Needless to say I was displeased about the whole ‘ripping off my hijab’ thing. So I immediately pulled out my wand, and she prepped as though I would stun her. So instead I punched her in the face, and _then_ hexed her,” Nadia beamed dreamily, “It was great. She’s been avoiding me ever since. Coward.”

“Amazing,” I laughed.

“Seriously, that’s brilliant,” Ginny beamed. Her cheeks were flushed oddly, but the lighting in the room was low, so maybe I just wasn’t seeing things clearly.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t go around fighting Death Eaters the whole summer,” Nadia snorted.

“It wasn’t the _whole_ summer,” Ginny protested, flushing even more.

“You were tortured, what, daily? For three weeks? And you’re still here? Talk about badass!” Nadia insisted, also looking strangely flushed, a feat considering she was fairly dark in pallor. Ginny shifted awkwardly and I was practically thrown from her shoulder.

“it wasn’t hard to do –“

“That’s a _total lie_!’

“I was doing it for Harry!”

“After you’d broken up?”

“I still _care_ about him, just not in that way, anymore –“

“Really?” Nadia asked in surprise.

“ _I_ dumped _him_ ,” Ginny affirmed.

“That’s just so… strange…”

“Well, I’ve moved on,” and suddenly Ginny had a look on her face that made me feel _extremely_ uncomfortable.

“I’m… going to go talk to some other people,” I stated calmly, backing away slightly from the two of them before turning around. I looked and saw Hermione frowning at me and I just shook my head in bemusement.

“What is it?” she asked, frowning even more.

“I do not understand proper human interaction. So what have you been up to?” I asked.

“Reading about elementalism. I want to see if that will help,” Hermione admitted.

“At the party?” I asked, raising my eyebrows.

“Yes, not like I do the whole dancing and flirting thing,” Hermione shrugged. I sighed. It was pointless to try and convince her that Harry would turn around. It had been too long, and she had suffered too much disappointment. It was a conversation that had worn itself out.

“Well, you could still _talk_ to a friend,” I offered.

“Well, yes,” Hermione acknowledged.

“Like look, Ernie and Sam are talking over there. Come on, let’s go,” I grinned, dragging her by the arm to the two boys. Ernie beamed at us, and Sam did the same, though they both had different expressions on their faces.

“How’s it going?” Hermione asked.

“Good,” Sam answered immediately.

“I was just reassuring him on elementalism,” Ernie admitted, “You’ll both get it.”

“Hah!” I laughed derisively.

“You will!” Ernie insisted.

“He’s been trying to convince me all evening,” Sam rolled his eyes.

“All evening? You haven’t talked to anyone else?” Hermione scolded.

“Who else would I want to talk to? Maggie was actually socializing with someone other than Neville so I didn’t want to interrupt that; Harry and Neville are currently playing some sort of strange muggle drinking game with Dean and Seamus that Dean knows so they’re useless; _you_ were reading in a corner; and Luna and Ron were talking with Kat, Peter, Elena, and Claire,” Sam shrugged, “So Ernie it is.”

“Why _wouldn’t_ he want to talk to me?” Ernie laughed.

Hermione rolled her eyes.

“You never will change, will you?” I snorted.

“Nope,” Sam agreed.

“He doesn’t have to,” Ernie nodded firmly.

“That’s a complete and utter lie –“

“I just mean there’s nothing _wrong_ with him,” Ernie shrugged.

“My god, you’re an idiot,” Sam snorted.

“Hey!” Ernie protested, flushing. Hermione looked at me in confusion and I just shrugged.

“There’s nothing wrong with the rest of you either! I mean remember when I said I didn’t loathe or hate Maggie?” Ernie laughed.

“We should have brought you into our circle right then,” I grinned.

“I’m a bit insulted you didn’t!” Ernie agreed.

“We had to keep _some_ people who approved of Maggie outside of the friend group,” Hermione chuckled.

“And then you created a mega conglomerate friend group,” Ernie snorted.

“No, we created a rebellion,” I grinned cheekily.

“This is the revolution,” Hermione agreed, looking determined, “It starts this week.”

“Amazing how casual those words sound,” Sam snorted.

“The revolution is a quiet affair. It starts slowly. The school isn’t expecting it, because Umbridge is gone, but it is not something that will be shown in our homes or on our radios,” Hermione continued, looking fiercer by the second, “It will start here, and it will spread and grow, and we _will_ take down Voldemort before he even attacks.”

“You’re brilliant,” Sam stated calmly. Hermione looked at him in shock.

“Well that’s not news,” Ernie rolled his eyes.

“Sam enjoy stating the obvious,” I agreed cheekily.

“Oh shove off you lot,’ Hermione rolled her eyes, flushing slightly.

“Well, I just mean, Hermione Granger: face of the revolution. It fits,” Sam shrugged.

“All _four_ of them are the face, you know that,” Ernie smirked.

“A group to take down the world,” Sam nodded. I blushed heavily.

“We can do this,” Hermione stated firmly, “And you both are important too, don’t be ridiculous.”

Ernie’s eyes flashed, “Umbridge can’t hold me down; nor can the Ministry.” Sam clapped slightly, and Ernie grinned happily at him.

“Alright then,” I rolled my eyes, walking away from the three of them in pure amusement. I moved over to the drinking game the boys were playing – Harry and Neville had teamed up against Seamus and Dean in some sort of pong game, drinking whenever they messed up. Neville appeared to be absolutely wasted, which wasn’t a surprise, given his complete lack of coordination.

“Maggie!” he shouted happily, throwing his arms around me affectionately. I squeaked in surprise, but giggled.

“Oi, your significant other is drunk off his ass,” Seamus snorted.

“You’re the one who challenged him to a drinking game of physical skill!” I laughed.

“True,” Seamus acknowledged with a snort. His words were slurred and he was clearly drunk as well.

“’S all good, Mags, he’s got this, he’s not drinkin _that_ much!” Harry slurred. Neville was kissing every inch of the side of my face.

“Yes, because you clearly sound sober,” I snorted at him.

“It’s amazing how much alcohol the three of them have consumed,” Dean admitted, and he was clearly the only sober one of the lot.

“Didn’t you suggest this game?” I giggled.

“I… did not see this happening,” Dean admitted, sighing in defeat.

“Maaaaags,” Neville whispered happily, “You’re cuuuuuute.”

“Yes, so are you,” I laughed, reaching up to scratch behind his ears. He smiled happily and nuzzled his face against mine.

“My god, the nauseatingly cute continues,” Dean frowned.

“’S normal, normal shite,” Harry hiccupped, “Wheeeen we were on the run ‘s don’t stop for nofin.”

“We thought we were going to die,” I pointed out as Neville kissed my ears haippily.

“Doesn’ make any lessgross,” Harry slurred.

“You are illegally cute,” Seamus agreed.

“Well so are you and Dean, so everyone here is equally guilty of breaking the cute laws,” I rolled my eyes, “Perhaps we should all be going to bed.”

“Mmm, sounds like a _plan_ ,” Neville whispered – or at least, in his drunken state he _thought_ he was whispering; it was actually more like a yell – into my ear. I flushed horrifically and swatted him on the arm.

“No no, not when you’re this drunk,” I stated firmly, swallowing slightly.

“Of course,” Neville murmured, nuzzling up against me, “We’ll just cuuuuuuddleeeeee.”

I laughed and kissed his forehead, “Thank you, love.”

“Stoooop,” Harry begged, “Stoooop, I’m too young to die from this.”

“You’re not going to die from this,” I giggled.

“My best mate and my sister are shagging how can I _not_ -“

“At least it’s your best mate and not, you know, a dickwad from hell,” Dean scowled.

“I remember feeling tha’ angry,” Harry commented, “Amazing wha’ time does.”

“Time reminds you we have more important things to worry about than a douchecanoe,” I stated calmly.

“I wanna punch him again,” Neville declared, sleepily and cheerfully, in my ear.

“No, you want to take a nice long rest,” I giggled.

“Fiiiiiiiine party pooper,” Neville drawled.

“Dean, mind getting these losers to bed?” I laughed. Dean snorted and grabbed both Seamus and Harry by the arms and we all left the room of requirement, the party blaring behind us. Neville was still essentially collapsed on top of me, and it was hard to walk with him like that, but he was so cute when drunk (and so amazingly affectionate) that I couldn’t even fault him for it as I finally managed to get us to our room.

Blue perked up and chirped in confusion as Neville literally collapsed upon the bed and started snoring. I giggled helplessly.

“Come on you goober,” I chucked, picking him up as Blue hopped about next to us, “You have to change.”

“But Maaaaags,” Neville whined.

“Pajamas, _then_ sleep,” I snorted, “How much did you _drink?_ ”

 “Eleven twenty,” Neville nodded firmly.

“That’s not a number!” I roared with laughter.

“Now it is! I am a pioneer, I am a visionary! I am –“ and he collapsed on me again, snoring softly in my ear.

“You are adorable as all hell,” I sniggered, helping him into pajamas and then doing the same myself. I gently helped him into the bed and then followed, nestling up against him as he instantly fell asleep. I kissed him on the forehead and Blue crawled up next to me, and we all fell asleep fairly rapidly together.

The fun came the next morning. I woke up and looked to see Neville still very much asleep, and he usually woke up before me. I gently nudged him, and he groaned loudly, turning to plant his head into the pillow.

“Nev?” I asked, giggling slightly. Blue hopped over me to nudge Neville in the leg.

“Go away,” he muttered, though it was muffled by said pillow.

“No,” I giggled, “Its time to get up and get ready for the day.”

“Go away,” Neville moaned louder.

“Is little Neville hungover?” I snorted, kissing him on the shoulder.

“Hnnnngggg,” he groaned, pulling the blankets up over his head.

“Awww,” I laughed, kissing him on the back of the head. He continued to groan, hiding from all external stimuli.

“It’ll be okay Nev,” I giggled, trying to pull him out of the bed.

“I’m dying,” he moaned helplessly.

“No you’re not,” I snorted.

“Yes I am. Please leave me here,” Neville begged.

“Nope, you gotta get up, get some breakfast and some water, and do things,” I urged, giggling. Neville groaned louder, and I joined him under the covers. He didn’t look up from the pillow, so I reached out to caresses his face. He sighed softly.

“Okay, that can stay,” he mumbled.

“You really have to go and get some water,” I urged cheerfully.

“But _moving_. And getting _dressed_ ,” he groaned dejectedly. I reached over and kissed him, and he smiled slightly.

“I suppose you could theoretically wear pajamas,” I offered. Neville smiled slightly.

“I’d like that,” he admitted happily.

“Then pajama day it is. I’ll join you in solidarity,” I beamed. He leaned in and kissed me lovingly, his face breaking out into a wider smile before he started wincing.

“ _Ow_ , that hurt!” he groaned.

“Headache?” I asked, reaching and rubbing his forehead. He nodded, scrunching up his eyes with pain.

“Oh love,” I soothed, kissing his nose, “It’ll be okay.” He nodded again and I kissed him once more, pulling us both out from under the covers. He groaned louder.

“Come on, we have to go, or else all the food will be gone,” I urged. Neville groaned but managed to stumble out of bed, and I followed him, gently rubbing his shoulders as he hobbled towards the door.

“The morning is evil,” he grunted angrily.

“Says the morning person,” I giggled.

“Evil evil evil,” he moaned, stumbling into the corridor. Blue rubbed up against him, and he reached down to pet her, his eyes almost completely shut to block out any light coming in from the torches on the walls. I gently held his hand and squeezed it every so often as I lead him to the table and sat him down carefully, watching as he basically buried his face in his arms and groaned against them.

“Why is this not a surprise?” Hermione sighed, looking at him in amusement.

“How’s Harry?” I laughed.

“According to Dean, the same, except he doesn’t have someone to drag him out of bed,” Hermione snorted, “Dean dragged Seamus.”

“Amazing. At the very least, Seamus is Irish. Why can’t he hold his alcohol?” I giggled.

“He’s a tiny person?” Hermione offered, “At any rate, at some point I’ll go up to the boy’s dormitory and try to get Harry to wake up.”

“Good plan,” I agreed, “Not fair that Nev’s awake and he isn’t.”

“That, and his first lesson with Dumbledore is tonight,” Hermione smirked, “Room of Requirement this evening? We can talk all about it.”

“You know, I _can_ go into the Gryffindor Common Room now,” I laughed.

“Yes, but the RoR is a nice space, just for us, and we’ll have complete privacy, which is good when discussing this sort of thing,” Hermione explained.

“True,” I admitted, “How goes elementalism practice?”

“I’ve been moving some earth around off and on, but I don’t want to do too much. Supervision is important. You haven’t been trying, have you?” Hermione sighed heavily.

“No, I haven’t,” I grunted in annoyance.

“You’ll get there, I promise –“

“And if I don’t?”

“You _will_.”

“That’s not really comforting, since I might not,” I snapped irritably.

“Mags…”

“How good would it look if the next Transfiguration Prof couldn’t make up new spells, never mind all the other reasons I’m doing this?” I furthered, “This is frustrating for me, Hermione, you know it is.”

“I do,” Hermione nodded, “But I believe in you.”

“Thanks,” I sighed, “Neville, have you eaten?”

A muffled moan came from the pile of Neville slumped against the table.

“Oh Nev,” but I was laughing, and I leaned down to kiss him on the forehead, and he grunted in annoyance.

“Any wixen hangover remedies?” I asked Hermione, giggling slightly. She rolled her eyes.

“Why in the name of Merlin would _I_ know that?” she snorted.

“You know lots of things?” I offered.

“A fair point, but no, I don’t know any wixen hangover remedies,” Hermione rolled her eyes, “Best to just get him hydrated and back to bed.”

“Can do. Come on, Neville,” I soothed, helping him to drink some water and lovingly patting him on the back. He grunted in pain and collapsed onto my shoulder, moaning softly with the effort.

“Oh dear,” Hermione frowned, but her lips were twitching with amusement.

“I don’t think he’s ever drunken that much before,” I giggled.

“Oh Neville,” Hermione laughed. Neville groaned louder and nestled up closer to me, mumbling softly and pressing his whole body into mine.

Elena walked over to us, also looking dead, and sitting at the Gryffindor table, even though it was the middle of the day. She literally looked like a zombie – huge bags under her eyes, her hair a giant tangled mess even though it was fairly short and straight normally. She also kind of looked green, as though she was going to vomit at literally any moment.

“What’s… wrong?” I asked, snorting softly.

“I am a tiny person who should not be allowed to drink alcohol,” she moaned into her hands.

“You were an instigator of the Malfoy Drinking Game!” I laughed.

“I barely partook in that and I was…” Elena looked up and looked at me sheepishly.

“What?” I asked, frowning.

“Well, I was kind of sad,” Elena admitted.

“They wanted us to keep living for them,” I whispered, much as Neville had reminded me last night.

“I know,” Elena agreed, “I just… I don’t know. I feel reckless and stupid and chaotic.”

“Ah, we finally show signs of being biological siblings!” I joked. Elena glared at me and I continued to beam at her.

“Channel that recklessness _productively_ , unlike your sister,” Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Oh?” Elena asked groggily, rubbing her forehead somewhat.

“The revolution,” Hermione stated simply.

“Ah, that,” Elena groaned, pressing her head on the table.

“You’re really on a roll,” I commented lightly as Neville started snoring on my bosom.

“What do you man?” Hermione asked, frowning at me.

“You’ve brought it up… three? Four? Times in the past two days,” I grinned.

“Well I’m impatient. The longer we wait, the more the Ministry gets comfortable,” Hermione stated firmly, “We have to be proactive.”

“That’s true,” I admitted.

“I’m not even fourteen yet,” Elena grumbled, “How can _I_ help?”

“You have been through so much already,” I pointed out kindly, “More than I even had at your age, I’d argue.”

Elena frowned, her face flushing slightly.

“You have a voice, same as the rest of us,” Hermione confirmed calmly.

“It’s a voice that doesn’t like to be heard,” Elena mumbled in embarrassment.

“Well, you’re still important, and it’ll help to redirect your recklessness,” Hermione repeated.

“Maybe,” Elena acknowledged, rubbing her forehead, “Right now I just want this headache to go away.”

“You could always be worse,” I laughed, pointing to Neville, who was _decidedly_ asleep in my arms at this point. I gently scratched his scalp as Elena groaned louder, crawling underneath the table.

“What the -?” Hermione asked in shock, smirking quite broadly.

“I hate the world,” Elena shouted.

“You do _not_ know what’s been underneath that table!” Hermione shrieked.

“I don’t care!”

“Where is Elena?” I looked up to see Claire staring at me. Usually she was very polished, put together, _pretty –_ though it was weird to think of someone so young as such, she was, in a pure aesthetic way. Right now her hair was sticking up everywhere – like, literally up _everywhere_ , she somehow had a blonde afro, which wasn’t surprising given her heritage, but still not what you would expect – her eyes had the hugest bags under them, and she also looked like she was going to vomit at any moment… or at least punch someone.                      

Probably the last thing, given her expression.

“Under the table,” I stated calmly.

“For the love of fuck,” Claire grunted, “Get your ass out here, Elena!”

“No!” she shouted from under the table.

“Why in the hell not?” Claire demanded.

“Light is evil!” Elena moaned.

“I hate it too but I’m standing out here like a normal person and not hiding away like a gopher!” Claire roared.

“Shut _up_ ,” Neville grunted in annoyance against my breasts.

“It’s okay Neville,” I soothed lovingly, gently patting him on the head. He moaned and curled up tighter close to me.

“I think we all handle alcohol in our own ways,” I turned to Claire and snorted.

“This is increasing my conviction to never drink it,” Hermione rolled her eyes and shook her head in bemusement.

“You follow your dreams,” I laughed.

“Elena for the love of god!” Claire screeched.

“ _WHY ARE YOU BEING SO LOUD_?” Elena sobbed.

“Shut uuuup,” Neville groaned, now falling into my lap, which would have made me more embarrassed if he wasn’t obviously dead. Hermione snorted in her spot, looking on the three hungover people with amusement.

“Come on, Neville,” I urged, “Let’s get you to the room of requirement. Low lighting, no sound, calm atmosphere. Come on,” I soothed happily. He moaned again but he followed me, and I held his hand tightly in comfort as he basically leaned on me the whole way back up to that room. He immediately collapsed on the couch and began moaning into it in pain, and I gently stroked his hair, trying to sooth him as he groaned.

“You’ll get through this,” I laughed, giving him more water as he moaned quietly.

“I’m going to die,” he grunted.

“Just keep having water and staying hydrated,” I soothed more, leaning in and kissing his forehead.

“Thank you,” he mumbled sheepishly, blushing furiously. I leaned in and kissed him on the lips, and the rest of that day I spent cuddling him and taking care of him, holding him lovingly and soothingly in my arms.

At one point, I fell asleep, curled up next to him on the couch. I didn’t know if he had fallen asleep, but the next thing I knew I was being gently shaken awake, and I grumbled in surprise and shock as I opened my eyes to see Hermione standing there, looking amused.

“Harry should be done with his Dumbledore lesson soon,” she snorted, “I told him to meet us here when he had finished.”

“How’s _he_ doing?” I asked, chuckling as Neville appeared to still be asleep next to me, curling up into a very tight ball on the couch. He looked so small like that, it was a stark difference from the usual.

“Oh my god he’ll eat your head off if you say _one_ wrong word, tread carefully,” Hermione groaned.

“So like Claire, then?” I offered.

“No no, _worse_ – he is seriously over sensitive. I don’t… what is going _on_ with him lately?” Hermione sighed.

“Worse PTSD?” I offered, “They went through a lot last spring.”

“That’s true,” Hermione admitted, “I hope Shae gets here soon. We all need to talk to her.”

“Agreed,” I nodded fiercely, “I’d really like to talk to someone about… everything…”

“Same,” Hermione sighed, sitting next to the couch on the floor, running a hand through her infinite brown hair, “I… I’m sorry, Maggie, but the sight of you…”

I swallowed heavily, “You don’t –“

“The sight of you lying in the forest like that… in a pool of your own blood…” Hermione swallowed heavily, “I… you’re my sister. Maggie, you’re my sister, you’re not allowed to do that to me again, okay?”

“Okay,” I agreed quietly, feeling shame from my toes to my nose. It filled me up horrifically and I knew my face had fallen. Hermione groaned softly.

“I’m sorry – I shouldn’t have – I’m sorry.

“It’s okay –“

“No it’s not –“

“Look we’re talking in circles again –“

“I can’t… I’m sorry…”

“Hermione, please…”

“I just am so upset about it, still –“

“Is this why you’ve been cold to Harry, lately?” I asked sternly. Hermione looked at me in shock.

“Because we _agreed_ that we wouldn’t push this with him, I don’t _want_ to –“

“No… no… I’m not acting cold with him,” Hermione frowned.

“Yeah you are! You’re always blowing him off, you’re acting so weird around him lately!” I stated in shock, having thought she was doing this on purpose.

“I… I don’t _mean_ to,” Hermione frowned.

“Do you have any idea why you’ve been acting like that?” I asked in confusion.

“I… I guess… I don’t…” Hermione looked upset, “I really haven’t been meaning to at all.”

“I believe you, I’m just confused, now,” I admitted.

“I guess… maybe I’ve just… maybe I’ve just been fed up with waiting for him to be ready? Maybe I’m just… upset with how last spring turned out… even without what happened to you? Maybe I’m just… maybe I’m just done with it all?” Hermione swallowed, “I… I need to move on…”

I sighed heavily, reaching out to pat her on the shoulder, “Mione…”

“I don’t know what else to do if I don’t,” she mumbled.

“You never know what will happen in the future, Hermione, and you care about him… deeply… you _know_ you do,” I urged.

“I can’t make him love me,” Hermione mumbled.

“No, but you can’t stop caring about him, or being his friend. He needs you – you _know_ he does,” I insisted.

“I do,” Hermione acknowledged quietly.

“I’m sorry, you can do what you want, I don’t want to see you in pain anymore,” I swallowed, not liking the look on her face.

“Thanks… I… I don’t know what I want,” Hermione admitted.

“Well then push it out of your mind. Focus on school, you love school!” I grinned. She stuck her tongue out at me, before sighing heavily and resting her head against my knee.

“I miss my parents,” she mumbled. I immediately slid off the couch and hugged her, us both holding each other for a long time, not saying anything, just sitting there like that and comforting each other with our arms.

Neville soon woke up, looking at us both groggily and clearly still a bit hung over.

“Hermione’s missing her parents,” I explained quietly. Neville slid off the couch and joined us in the hug, not saying another word, just holding the both of us kindly.

“Remember when we were freezing at that Quidditch Match third year and we all decided to huddle for warmth?” Hermione asked after a while.

“Good times,” I chortled.

“For you two, maybe; I was the one taking the brunt of the blast!” Neville laughed.

“You did so willingly!” Hermione sniggered.

“I didn’t like seeing you both shiver like that!” Nevill protested.

“I dunno, Nev, I was kind of drenched and my nipples were _decidedly_ poking through my shirt –“

“Oh Maggie, _please_ ,” Hermione begged.

“You _must_ have enjoyed that,” I finished, laughing at Neville’s bright red face.

“I – I didn’t – I didn’t notice –“

“You’re very cute when you splutter,” I giggled.

“What did I do to deserve this,” Hermione groaned.

“Picked us as your best mates?” I offered.

“Fair enough,” Hermione rolled her eyes, but she nudged closer to us in our cuddle pile.

The door to the room opened and Harry came in, smirking at all of us in amusement. He didn’t say anything, though, before joining us, nestling up close next to me and Hermione and frowning slightly.

“So how’d it go?” Neville asked curiously.

“I… well, it seems these lessons are me learning about Voldy-pants,” Harry admitted, resting his head against Hermione’s. She flushed madly at this, keeping her head turned away form his so he wouldn’t see.

“Learning about him? What is there to learn about him?” I asked in surprise.

“Oh please, loads,” Hermione scoffed as Harry rested his head firmly between her shoulder and her neck, fitting there quite nicely despite how much smaller she was than him, “Know thy enemy and all that. You have to understand who you’re fighting against in order to defeat them.”

“There’s also a mystery,” Harry admitted, nuzzling up against Hermione more, like a cat, as he rested his feet on Neville’s legs, “Dumbledore’s… clearly trying to figure something out, but he’s not really explaining _what_ , so we’re just going through all these memories about Voldemort… his past, how he grew up, that sort of thing.”

“Doesn’t he know that you deserve to know everything, now?” I snapped irritably, resting my head on Neville’s chest as he wrapped his arms around me tightly.

“Yes, but I don’t think he wants to tell me something he doesn’t know fully… I’m not sure,” Harry sighed.

“Ask him about it more when you see him again?” Hermione offered, her feet on my knees.

“I will,” Harry affirmed.

“So what did you learn about Voldemort this time?” I asked, frowning at him.

“Well… his mum grew up in a shite home. Merope Gaunt,” Harry stated, frowning as the words came off of his tongue, “She grew up in basically squalor… wasn’t really allowed to leave the house… not very good at magic, so she was constantly abused by her father and brother…”

“Oh man,” Neville sighed, looking sympathetic.

“She was actually quite good at magic… it was the treatment by her brother and father that lead to her not being good at it in actuality… she was afraid of them,” Harry continued, frowning at Neville apologetically.

“I never thought I’d feel bad for Voldemort’s _mum_ ,” Neville groaned.

“Eh… don’t, she’s not a good person; Snape was abused by his dad, but you don’t feel bad for him,” Harry sighed.

“I feel _bad_ for him. I don’t _forgiv_ e _him,”_ Neville clarified.

“Fair enough,” Harry acknowledged, “Well… her dad and brother were bad people. Obviously. They were the epitome of prejudiced, pureblood, nonsense wizards… proud to be Slytherin’s heir… but living in squalor, the product of millennia of inbreeding made them all kind of crazy and off-balanced and violent… I mean I don’t think any of the three of them went to Hogwarts…”

I sighed heavily.

“Her father – Marvolo – and her brother – Morfin – they used magic on muggles… violently, too… got arrested and taken to Azkaban… so Merope felt free to be who she wanted to be and was better at magic…” Harry swallowed deeply, “Well, you see, she had a major fancy for Tom Riddle, Sr., a very handsome muggle from the village near where they lived…”

“Oh?” Hermione frowned at Harry in surprise.

“She… made a love potion, basically… drugged him into being her slave,” Harry sighed.

“Oh my _god_ ,” Neville whispered in horror.

“Yeah. It was… the weirdest sort of rape I’d ever seen, but, sorry, Mags,” Harry muttered sheepishly.

“It’s okay, you’re right,” I agreed, nodding fiercely.

“Well, eventually Merope was so… not going to lie, _stupid_ , that she thought he would want to stay with her if she stopped giving him the love potion. Needless to say, he left her,” Harry rolled his eyes, “She gave birth to Voldemort though… named him for the guy… and her dad, for some reason, even though he was an ass… she had fallen into a deep depression because Riddle Sr. had left her, and so she was a poor homeless woman in London, selling all of her things to people so she could eat… she was very weak, and it was so bad that she died after she gave birth to Voldemort…” Harry continued.

“Wow,” Hermione breathed.

“Marvolo Gaunt was shocked to find out she had done this when he was released from Azkaban… died form the shock, seems like,” Harry sighed, “And well, Voldemort ended up in an orphanage.”

“That’s… horrifying,” Neville admitted.

“Apparently him being conceived by a love potion – in that sort of magically without love way – means Voldemort is literally incapable of love,” Harry swallowed painfully, “Which is frightening to think of…”

“Yeah,” I frowned heavily.

“Explains a lot, though,” Neville pointed out.

“Also, I bet his mum dying like that… lead him to think that death meant weakness,” Hermione frowned.

“Dumbledore thinks so,” Harry agreed, “He also thinks that Merope could have saved herself… that she had let her depression over a man who never loved her leaving her take over… she died rather than take care of her son… sort of the opposite of my mum, in a way...”

“I feel like that’s blaming her for her mental illness,” I frowned angrily.

“It might be a little,” Harry agreed, “But he has a point… Riddle never loved her to begin with… she was deluding herself with magic…”

Hermione looked awkward, staring down at her knees pressed up against Neville’s.

“Well, regardless,” I said quickly, changing the subject for her, “This explains quite a lot about our good friend Voldy-pants.”

“I’m sure what I’ll continue to learn will show more,” Harry agreed. And we sat like that in silence for a little while longer, pensive and overwhelmed by all that we had learned.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for all the lovely comments! I hope you enjoy this chapter... a lot of "oh look at all these characters who are not Maggie" stuff... hahaha... please comment! Thanks!


	87. Chapter Eight-Six: September 8 - 11, 1996, Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I'm in the de-details with the devil   
> So now the world can never get me on my level   
> I just gotta get you off the cage   
> I'm a young lover's rage   
> Gonna need a spark to ignite 
> 
> My songs know what you did in the dark 
> 
> So light 'em up, up, up   
> Light 'em up, up, up   
> Light 'em up, up, up   
> I'm on fire"   
> ~ Fall Out Boy, "My Songs Know What You Did In The Dark".

Chapter 86: September 8 – 11, 1996, Hogwarts

Shae finally arrived the next Wednesday; when she appeared at the Staff Table, people began muttering in confusion and surprise that such a not-British looking woman was sitting there. It wasn’t even that she wasn’t white, obviously; she just was dressed in very muggle clothes even at the staff table. I saw her and I grinned eagerly, getting up and scurrying towards the table without another word to anyone else.

“Holy shit, Maggie, calm yourself,” Shae laughed as I reached the table and smiled at her.

“I’m just glad you’re here,” I whispered, trying to not burst into tears again as I smiled weakly at her.

“I am too. I’m sorry it’s taken me this long, I’ve had a lot to accomplish for the Order,” Shae admitted, “The dragons are coming, and well, with you being busy with your exams and everything, I’ve had to facilitate it.”

“That makes sense,” I nodded sadly.

“At any rate, therapy should start soon. I was hoping to have intakes with each member of the D.A., see where their needs lie, as well as other students at the school… it’ll be a lot of work for me, but I’m happy to do it,” Shae reassured.

“Thanks,” I whispered.

“Well yeah,” Shae frowned, “You need to have someone to talk to. All you kids do. You’ve been through an ordeal, and I can only hope to _begin_ to unravel the damage…”

“We’ll probably just get more damaged,” I muttered irritably.

‘It’s good to at least… _partially_ fix things before that happens,” Shae sighed, “At any rate, go back to your seat before people start asking questions.”

I snorted but returned to the table, where the others looked at me expectantly.

“That’s Shae,” I confirmed, “We’ll all start soon.”

“Oh good,” Hermione sighed.

“I _really_ need this,” Harry agreed, frowning heavily.

“So many people do,” Dean agreed from nearby, “This is good.”

“She’s… really pretty, isn’t she?” Ginny offered, frowning up at her at the table.

“Oh decidedly,” I agreed, “I hit on her regularly for about a month.”

“She’s in her twenties!” Dean laughed.

“I was an ambitious child,” I grinned.

“Should I be jealous?” Neville chuckled teasingly.

“Nah, I’m too young for her. Also, I love you, and I wouldn’t want to be with anyone but you,” I smiled at him, leaning up and kissing him on the cheek.

“Well she _is_ very attractive,” Neville acknowledged, looking up at the table, “I wouldn’t blame you.”

“Hmm,” I murmured thoughtfully, grinning slightly.

“Hmm?” Neville asked, looking at me in bemusement.

“Well now I’m just picturing all three of us together,” I grinned, and I was indeed picturing that, and it made me quite warm underneath my uniform collar. Neville grinned at me, looked back at Shae, and looked back at me again.

“Well, I can’t really say no to that image,” Neville chuckled, looking quite lustful himself now. Hermione groaned louder.

“You two are horrible,” she grunted in annoyance.

“We know,” we answered in unison, me giggling happily.

“One day, you will have children. One day, these children will be sapient enough to know things. On that day, I will tell them _exactly how disgusting_ their parents are,” Harry threatened.

“You just wish you could be this disgusting,” Neville grinned, wrapping his arms around me and squeezing me tightly.

“Yes,” Harry answered honestly, looking at us in annoyance. I looked at him in utter confusion, frowning extensively.

“I don’t know what I’m saying. I’m going to go,” Harry sighed, getting up and leaving.

“Oh for the love of –“ I groaned.

“That’s the fifth time in two weeks!” Hermione agreed.

“What is _up_ with him?” Neville grunted angrily.

“I’m going to go find out, this is insane,” I snapped in annoyance, getting up and walking angrily after Harry. I eventually caught up to him headed up to the Gryffindor Common Room before our Charms lesson later on that morning.

“Harry!” I snapped in irritation. He turned around and glared at me.

“ _What?_ ” he demanded, folding his arms across his chest.

“What is _up_ with you? You literally have been doing this whole angrily leaving the table thing for ages!” I stated irritably.

“I just… I don’t know. I’ve ben going through a lot,” Harry admitted irritably.

“Then why not talk to us about it?” I demanded.

“I don’t know! Because it’s personal?” Harry snapped.

“I’m your sister!” I insisted in annoyance. Harry looked at me sadly and walked down to sit on the steps, looking over at me expectantly. I followed, sitting next to him, and rested my head against his arm.

“Yeah, you are,” he acknowledged softly, resting against me and sighing.

“So what’s up, Harry? Seriously,” I whispered.

“I… I realize that I might have fucked everything up,” Harry grunted.

“What?” I frowned in confusion.

“I just… I don’t know how to describe it. I just didn’t… I was stubborn and stupid and because of that I probably… I fucked up everything,” Harry finally sighed, staring angrily down at his shoes.

“What _are_ you talking about?” I groaned.

“Look. We’re cousins. We’re similar. We’ve done similar things and made similar mistakes,” Harry stated calmly.

“Okay…” I frowned at him, _sincerely_ confused.

“I… I really didn’t know, alright?” Harry groaned.

“Didn’t know _what_ ,” I sighed in annoyance, now getting so frustrated with him I could feel my fingernails dig into my palms.

“I didn’t _know_ that Hermione had feelings for me!” Harry finally groaned, holding his head in his hands.

I felt my jaw drop open. This was the conversation we were having? Really? _Now?_

“I didn’t have any idea until she said all that stuff to me last Christmas,” Harry continued, blatantly ignoring my extremely visceral reaction, “And I mean, I didn’t realize I loved her or anything. We’re similar but we’re not _that_ similar. Nope, I did _not_ feel the same way, and I decided to pretend I had never realized, because that was easier than breaking her heart…”

“Okay…” I frowned, knowing this was not the end of the story.

“I… started to… I don’t know… when we were separated, I just, I realized that I missed Hermione _loads_ more than I had missed Ginny at any point over that Christmas Holiday. I missed Hermione _loads_ more than I missed you or Neville! I literally would lie awake at night, before we got captured, just… _wishing_ she were nearby… and this frightened me. Oh my god, Maggie, it was _terrifying_ ,” Harry continued.

I continued to stare at him, literally speechless.

“I just… I didn’t think I wanted that. I didn’t know what I wanted – no, I did, I wanted to not be on the run, and then after that, I wanted to be free and safe – but, I didn’t know what I wanted from that emotion. Because I saw how codependent you and Neville are and it terrified the living _crap_ out of me,” Harry sighed.

I sighed myself, staring at my hands.

“It’s not healthy, and I can’t help you out of that non-healthiness, because this war is terrible and why shouldn’t you help each other as much as you can? But… argh there are so many things about it that are going to blow up in your faces if you’re not careful and… that’s not even the _point_ … the point is that I didn’t want to enter a relationship like that,” Harry continued.

I looked at him again, frowning.

 “And then we all met up again… and I saw her and my… I just… it was such a relief. To see all of you, of course, but when I looked at her it was just… I was so glad I had gotten… I…” Harry was flushed and embarrassed, staring at his hands, “I couldn’t believe how lucky I was to see her face one more time before I died…”

“Harry,” I whispered in shock.

“And… we _aren’t_ codependent,” Harry continued, “You and Neville were like that before you even started snogging. Hermione and I are independent, we can function without each other just fine… and I see how close you and Neville are, and I see how… how that closeness translates in your relationship…”

“You want something like that,” I offered for him.

“Yes,” he answered simply.

We both sat in silence for a while. I was just in shock.

“She’s the best person in the world,” Harry murmured, “ _The_ best. She’s brilliant, and kind, and I can tell her anything, and she makes me feel like someone _believes_ in me, and I just… her hair… her smile… everything… its so… I want to hold her in my… in my arms and... just…”

I swallowed, quite literally amazed by this exchange.

“She keeps me grounded when I fly away… she stabilizes me… she balances me out… she understands me better than anyone, even you, and she loves me for who I am, not some projection the world has created for me, not that you and Neville don’t either, but, she even more so, understands me… I never feel safer than when she’s with me, she’s so… so brave and… she’s there for me, she stabilizes me, we’re… we’re a team,” Harry swallowed, anxiously running his hands through his hair.

“So… so what are you going to do?” I asked nervously.

“I don’t… Look at everything you three have already had happen to you in life because of me,” Harry groaned, “Look at it. You’ve lost your parents. Neville’s lost his sanity. Hermione’s lost so much already… can you only imagine what she’d lose if the Death Eaters found out how I _felt_ , much less if we were dating?”

I swallowed again.

“That’s why I’ve been so weird… all I want to _do_ is tell her how I feel and hold her… every time you and Neville are, well, you and Neville, I would be filled with jealousy and desire for the same thing with another person, rather than disgust… and Hermione is always so close by… it’s literally walking into temptation,” Harry grunted.

“Harry,” I stated calmly, “Waiting until the war is done is bullshti.”

Harry snorted.

“Look, one of you could die, and then it’s always a what if. And yeah, she _might_ get targeted more, but I doubt it would be _much_ more, she’s one of your closest friends, she’s going to be targeted no matter what and you _know_ it,” I insisted, “And trust me when I say that sort of affection… is amazingly helpful, for the hope aspect of everything, getting through each day…”

Harry groaned and swallowed heavily.

“Look, I can’t tell you what to do, I’m just saying, you can’t keep doing this to Hermione. She’s been through enough, and…” I sighed, “She just. She needs to know what’s happening.”

“I _know_ ,” Harry groaned loudly.

“So then – what?” I snapped, now annoyed.

“I don’t know what I want, and I think Hermione deserves to know that before we talk – or, I mean, when we talk, that deserves to be a part of the conversation,” Harry stated firmly.

“You could just tell her you have feelings for her and don’t know what to do about them –“

“No, I really couldn’t, not with how we talk to each other,” Harry insisted.

“I… alright,” I sighed, “Well, please stop being so moody and antisocial. We’re all talking about you behind your back and it’s not good.”

Harry stuck his tongue out at me and I laughed.

“Part of that is getting through what happened last spring and you _know_ it,” Harry rolled his eyes.

“Oh yes, I’m just a horrible person,” I affirmed. Harry rolled his eyes again and flicked me in the arm. I laughed and patted him comfortingly on the shoulder.

“I’m going to _actually_ go do what I was doing,” Harry snorted, “See you in Charms?”

“Yes,” I agreed, groaning internally at the grand old time charms continued to be.

“You aren’t… you aren’t going to tell anyone about this, are you?” Harry asked nervously.

“Of course not,” I reassured.

“Not even Neville?”

“Don’t worry, you get to tell that to him yourself,” I smirked.

“Oh god. He’ll tell me to just go for it,” Harry sighed.

“Technically, I also advocate for this,” I laughed.

“Yeah it’s one thing from my sister… quite another from my best mate… he’ll _nag_ …” Harry groaned.

“You brought this on yourself,” I chuckled. Harry rolled his eyes again and walked up to the Common Room without another word. I watched him go in bemusement and deep concern, before turning to go back to the Great Hall.

“So? Did you find out the answer to our mystery?” Neville asked, grinning.

“Er, yes,” I responded honestly, “But he asked me not to tell you.”

“Why not?” Hermione shouted incredulously.

“Because it’s very private, and he wants to tell you both himself, individually,” I stated calmly, “It’s not my place to say.”

“Drat,” Neville groaned.

“I’m sorry guys, I just don’t want to betray his trust,” I sighed, “I’m not even going to tell Neville in private, that’s how serious he was about this.”

“Fair enough,” Neville frowned, “Is he okay?”

“For the most part,” I stated, “It’s complicated. Don’t actively worry about him too much though.”

Hermione was frowning even more at that, and I didn’t know how to reassure her, so I just sat down and nestled up against Neville instead, nibbling on bacon and trying to change the subject. Soon enough, I didn’t have to; we all got up and went up to Charms, and neither of them said anything to Harry, who was waiting for us there.

“I’m sorry I’ve been a prat,” Harry said immediately as we sat next to him.

“Eh, we’re all prats sometimes,” Neville shrugged.

“It’s been a long war and it’s only just begun,” Hermione agreed.

“Yeah I… I dunno. I’m working through some stuff, and I promise to tell you both soon,” Harry nodded firmly.

“Thanks mate,” Neville agreed, “Just don’t take it out on any of us.”

“I won’t, not again,” Harry agreed.

Flitwick came into the room then and started instructing us on nonverbal spell usage in charms. Sirius was, by far, the most understanding of the professors. McGonagall wasn’t far behind, but it was clear that she wanted us to all at least attempt to do so once, and would give extra House Points if you did so. Flitwick and all the others were openly disapproving if you were unable to use a nonverbal spell, regardless of why.

“I want you all to attempt summoning charms nonverbally –“ Flitwick continued. I groaned and hld my head in my hands, already feeling a headache creep into my brain.

“Nutter,” I heard Malfoy whisper behind me. I hissed angrily, turning to look at Malfoy angrily.

“You heard me. You’re a nutter,” Malfoy laughed derisively, “Who won’t be able to handle what’s coming for you even if you had _years_ of nutter-help.”

“You watch yourself, Malfoy,” I hissed furiously.

“Leave her alone!” Neville snarled.

“You’re a nutter, too!” Malfoy laughed.

“Shut the fuck up, Malfoy,” Harry growled.

“Look, out of your little over-attached family, only Granger is sane, and given she’s a mudblood –“

“OI!” Harry essentially screamed, and suddenly he was diving over the rows of students, towards Malfoy’s throat. I was lunging with him and Hermione actively held us back.

“Settle down!” Flitwick urged, though he sounded tired. Perhaps they regretted their decision to stick Malfoy and I in the same class.

“He keeps calling me a loony!” I hissed angrily.

“Well am I _wrong?_ ” Malfoy laughed.

“Malfoy, you are on thin ice. You have provoked conflict with Miss Johnson numerous times in the past two weeks alone. _One more word, and you will receive detention_ ,” Flitwick warned.

“I don’t see why _I’m_ -“

“Shut up!” Hermione screeched.

“You filthy –“

“DETENTION, Mr. Malfoy! Please keep your opinions to yourself!” Flitwick insisted. Malfoy sat back, grumpily, and I turned back to keep practicing, and failing, at nonverbal spells.

“I made a huge mistake,’ I groaned angrily as we left the classroom, rubbing my forehead anxiously.

“You’re doing this so you can be the best professor you can be,” Hermione reminded, half scolding, half kind. I groaned again and Neville reached to hold me around the shoulder, squeezing tightly in comfort.

“We have a while before our next class, right?” I asked, looking up at him and frowning.

“Yeah,” Neville nodded, “Why?”

“I… I need fresh air,” I sighed, “I’m going to go out to the grounds.”

“I’ll come with if that’s okay,” Neville sighed, “I need fresh air too.”

“Oh yeah,” I nodded, feeling guilty. He was going to get mad at me, but I had to work at it. Hermione shrugged and Harry muttered angrily about potions, and we walked back out onto the Grounds together.

“So what’s the real reason we’re out here?” Neville asked, looking at me piercingly. He always knew.

“I’m practicing,” I said firmly, “I need to get this. It’s now been nearly two weeks, and nothing.”

“Maggie, you _know_ it’s dangerous,” Neville sighed.

“Yeah, well, my _life_ is dangerous,” I snapped, turning and looking at him in anger. Neville stared at me, looking slightly pained at my words.

“I’m sorry,” I sighed.

“No, I understand,” Neville soothed, reaching and holding the side of my face in his hand, “I love you. It’s going to be okay, and you’re _going_ to get it, I promise.”

“I don’t feel like I will, and practicing twice a week… it isn’t enough,” I muttered.

“That may actually be fair,” Neville agreed, “I’ll come with you and I’ll be there to try and help the most that I can.”

“Thank you Neville,” I whispered, leaning up and kissing him on the cheek as we reached the grounds. I sat there, next to the lake so I’d have access to all four elements, on the edge of the lake next to the forest. The trees loomed close to us as Neville sat next to the edge of the lake.

“So what do you have to do?” he asked, looking at me kindly.

“I have to… he described it as…” I swallowed heavily, “It comes from your gut. It’s instinctual.”

“I’m… really surprised you haven’t gotten it yet, love,” Neville pointed out sheepishly.

“I think that’s why I’m so frustrated,” I admitted angrily, “This should be something I get right away.”

“Are you… scared of your gut, Mags?” Neville asked quietly.

“Why would I be _scared_ of my gut?” I snapped, whirling on him. He frowned sheepishly.

“Mags, we sleep in the same bed,” he murmured, “I know your nightmares.”

I swallowed, “I’ve… been actively blocking them out.”

“I know,” Neville whispered kindly, “I can’t help but remember them, though, of course.”

“Oh?” I responded, sitting down next to him and looking at him sadly.

“You wake up and you scream a little. I wake up too,” Neville looked down at his knees, “I always do. And when you do you usually mumble a little when you’re done about your nightmare. You’re never horrifically aware of it, and you always fall asleep right away, but you say something.”

“I’m sorry I wake you up,” I whispered.

“Don’t be,” Neville shook his head, “It’s not your fault.”

“I…”

“I am hyper aware of you and everything you do,” Neville whispered, “Don’t worry about it.”

“Neville –“

“I’m not saying you aren’t the same with me, jus that you aren’t hyper aware of anything, you’re constantly trying to block out your surroundings and what you see and feel, and I understand that, and it’s okay,” Neville.

“I don’t –“ I swallowed heavily, unable to continue, wringing my wrists.

“You don’t?” Neville asked kindly.

“I don’t _want_ to block everything out. I try so hard whenever we’re together to… to etch… to etch everything into my brain,” I mumbled.

“I know you do,” Neville reassured softly.

“I just… my nightmares…” I broke down into sobs next to him, and he wrapped his arms tightly around me.

“I know my love, I know,” Neville whispered in my ear. He pressed his nose to my cheek and I could feel his hair tickle my face. I sighed and reached to hold the back of his head in my hand, breathing deeply.

“You have nightmares about killing that Death Eater,” Neville continued softly, “You’ll wake up and you’ll be screaming about how you ripped apart his insides and… I know how horrified you are that you did that, no matter how much you claim to be okay.”

I cried, pressing my face into his shoulder.

“You’re afraid of what your gut makes you do. I know you are,” he whispered very softly into my ear. I nodded rapidly.

“Well, you’ll get there eventually. Your ability to manipulate an element isn’t bad. It’s necessary and important and good and I promise it’ll be okay, even if you can’t control it all the time,” Neville whispered.

“Okay,” I mumbled.

“Come on. I’ll practice with you. Harry and I wanted to learn too, remember?” Neville whispered.

“Yeah,” I nodded, “Okay.” He stood up and pulled me with him, looking at me expectantly.

“The way the others did it… it just sort of came to them, you know? Like they were… just unable to not manipulate the element or something… it’s hard to describe,” I said simply. Neville nodded.

“Alright… so…”

“I can kind of feel something stir in my stomach when I try,” I admitted, “I don’t know what. I just… it’s like trying to take a crap, but, you’re trying to move something with your hands.”

Neville laughed loudly and pulled me in for a long kiss at that.

“You make fun,” I stuck my tongue out at him.

“No, I understand what you’re trying to say,” he grinned, “Come on.” We stared at each other and kept gesturing our hands at various elements, looking rather silly while doing so and laughing at each other. It was so much more of a relaxed environment than in Spellweaving class – without Flitwick’s eyes on me, without Malfoy sneering at me, without Hermione and Ernie looking at me with pity, without Sam being just as frustrated as I was. Here, it was just Neville and me, and he was laughing and giggling and looking at me happily, and when I grunted with the effort of trying to move water out of the lake and went purple in the face doing so he leaned over to kiss me in reassurance, and I earnestly wished that he was in the class with me instead of Hermione or Sam or Ernie or _especially_ Malfoy.

“Stop looking like you’re constipated!” I giggled as he tried to move the earth beneath our feet, his face completely and utterly scrunched up as he grunted with the effort.

“Oh shove off!” he laughed.

“Make me!” he giggled in response.

“Gladly!” I beamed, walking up to him and pulling him in for a long kiss. He laughed into it and tickled my sides, making me squeak happily.

“You’re distracting me!” I laughed, beaming at him. He giggled again and started kissing me in earnest, making me sigh happily into his mouth.

“I will always distract you and I hope you’re okay with that,” he beamed at me, his eyes alight with mirth.

“I am,” I affirmed, and he pulled me in for a longer kiss, wrapping me up completely into his arms and holding me close to him.

“This is a terrible practice session,” I breathed into his lips.

“I think this is a _fantastic_ practice session,” he laughed.

“You _would_ ,” I snorted.

“You don’t?” he giggled.

“Of course I do,” I beamed, and I kissed him on the nose, “I love you.”

“I love you,” he laughed, holding me even tighter.

“Well!”

I turned around with him to look at the Forbidden Forest. A woman came walking out, followed by some other men and women, a Death Eater mask on her face.

“Well well well well well well well well well well!” the woman laughed.

“Who are you?” Neville asked nervously, letting go of m but squeezing my hand tightly.

“This is my sister,” a familiar female voice cackled. Neville’s hold on my hand strengthened as Bellatrix Lestrange removed the mask from her face.

“Good to see you again, brats,” Bellatrix simpered.

“How are you at Hogwarts?” I asked, swallowing, squeezing back Neville’s hand as much as I could. I could feel myself sweat profusely with fear.

“Took _ages_ to find the Forbidden Forest without going through a magical town but – well – we did it!” Bellatrix laughed.

“It’s been one of those triumphant moments,” a man simpered.

“Now Scabior, we’ve only _gotten_ here, how can we carry out the Dark Lord’s plan when the Dragon and her Muffin are here to stop us?” Bellatrix’s sister – Narcissa, I remembered vaguely, Malfoy’s mum – chuckled.

All four individuals laughed together loudly, and Neville held me so tightly I couldn’t feel my fingers anymore.

“Rodolphus, what was it you said the other night?” Bellatrix chortled.

“How fun it will be to see the look on one of their faces when the other dies,” the last man laughed.

“Yes,” Bellatrix raised her wand, “I believe it would be my honor.”

“NO!” Neville shouted, pulling out his wand and shooting out a shield charm as Bellatrix shot out a curse – luckily, not a killing one yet. The other three began shooting spells too and I immediately responded, pulling out my wand and sending up my own shield charm.

“Like you two little children could _ever_ defeat us!” Narcissa snorted.

“We can damn well try!” I responded, my heart in my throat as I shot curse after curse at them. At the very least, we could try to hold them off before someone noticed and came to our aid.

The four of them were powerful; the four of them were terrifying. My mind was in a panic and I could barely think as we dueled the four of them and were swiftly being overwhelmed.

“Give up little children!” Bellatrix simpered.

“No!” Neville roared, shooting a blast of a curse that sent Scabior flying backwards. I took this opportunity to stun Rodolphus, but the sisters were still going strong, shooting curse after curse at us as we dueled on the edge of the forest. I didn’t actually know how to think anymore as I tried to get them to back off, go back into the forest.

Scabior came running back and it was all so overwhelming and I was constantly aware of where Neville was because I had to make sure he was okay because I _couldn’t lose him_ and what was thinking because I certainly wasn’t doing it anymore.

“Stupefy!” I screamed, throwing Scabior backwards, and he shouted in surprise and shock as he was thrown into the forest.

“CRUCIO!” Bellatrix screamed, and I fell to the ground, writhing madly with pain, my mind blind with it, screaming at the top of my lungs and unable to think clearly. I couldn’t perceive my surroundings until suddenly the curse was lifted, and I looked in surprise to see that Neville had actually tackled Bellatrix to the ground.

“AVA –“ Narcissa began.

“STUPEFY!” I roared, and she was sent backwards too, and Neville stumbled to his feet and stunned Bellatrix, but Rodolphus had come to and was attacking us, and we both used shield charms to block against him.

“You can’t fight us forever!” he shouted.

“WE CAN TRY!” Neville screamed, his face white as a sheet, probably from having had to see Bellatrix put that curse on me.

“STUPE –“

“IMEDIMENTA!” Neville roared, and Rodolphus was blocked in his track as Bellatrix stumbled to her feet. I shouted in horror as she raised her wand, staring at Neville angrily and moving towards him.

“That’s enough you little –“ Bellatrix raised her wand towards Neville.

“NO!” I screamed.

“Maggie –“ Neville shouted fearfully.

“ _AARRGHHNNNNNN!_ ” I roared, and I practically flew forward, my arms outstretched and my body angled, and suddenly there was fire –

There was fire _everywhere_ –

 _The blast overwhelmed me_ –

I stumbled backward away from the blast front, spluttering to the ground. I got up and tried to control it, but I was filled with fear, and coughing horrifically, and I could smell everything around me burning – my hair was on fire – I tried to put it out -

I screamed as some of it lapped at my arm and stumbled backwards, falling to the ground in horror as the fire flared up and consumed everything around me.

“NEVILLE,” I screamed at the top of my lungs.

“MAGGIE!” he shouted back. I looked in terror as suddenly he came stumbling towards me, his face clearly burned somewhat, and I felt my mouth drop open in horror at the sight.

“Oh my god,” he cried out, and I had no idea how I actually looked, as so much of it had touched me –

“I can’t –“ I groaned, doubling over in pain as the effects of the burns finally started to reach my nervous system –

“No,” Neville moaned louder, and the fire was overwhelming around us, and I felt myself collapse against the ground as the smoke fumes filled every square centimeter of my lungs. I was beginning to pass out – blackness was filling the corners of my eyes – my mind was spinning –

“NO!” Neville screamed, and suddenly I felt something cold splash my face – water – there was water everywhere now -

Water was everywhere –

It drenched me, and it cooled my body, and I coughed and spluttered as I began to breathe again –

I opened my eyes and stumbled to my feet as I saw Neville looking around in shock, his hands shaking in amazement – it seemed like the top layer of the lake had been taken off – the water was everywhere, it had soaked through the earth, and it had tried to put out the fire – in some places it had succeeded – in other places the fire was still going, and Neville was panting and staring at everything in shock and horror and shaking from head to foot.

I stumbled towards him and he grabbed me by the arm and stared at me in horror.

“What did you _do_ –“

“What did YOU do –“

“YOU LITTLE BRATS!”

We turned around in horror to see Bellatrix and Narcissa stumble out of the fire, both also badly burned from it, all of Bellatrix’s hair burned clean off as they panted and glared at us.

“YOU WILL PAY FOR THIS!” Bellatrix roared.

“STUPEFY!” I managed to splutter out.

Bellatrix was thrown backward into the fire, and Narcissa roared in terror and went to grab her, trying to put the fire with a jet of water streaming out of her wand, but it wasn’t working, the fire was raging again. The ones that were still there were beginning to gain momentum again – water didn’t put out fire, only calmed or encouraged it, depending on the situation – water had oxygen in it, after all – the only thing that could completely destroy fire was earth –

“NEVILLE!” I screamed as the fire began roaring towards us.

“ARGH!” he roared, and suddenly he was pulling another column of water out of the Lake, the water washing over everything in a giant wave, no, it was a wall, a wall of water passing over us and drenching everything about us, falling down in a massive heap on top of all the fire as Neville collapsed to the ground in exhaustion. I ran to him, crying out in fear as I grabbed him, but holding anything was painful to me now – I was covered in burns –

“MAGGIE! NEVILLE!”

I turned weakly to see McGonagall sprinting towards us, with Sirius and Shae and Harry and Hermione and a whole bunch of other students. I looked back at where the Death Eaters had been and shouted as Narcissa dragged Bellatrix away, and Rodolphus limped into the forest, and Scabior was no where to be seen anyway –

“MAGGIE! NEVILLE!”

I was so exhausted that I couldn’t think anymore, and I felt darkness creep into my eyes again, and I couldn’t even respond to my brother and my best friend as I collapsed on top of Neville below me.

I woke up groggily, in a bed, unable to think straight or clearly, still. I coughed heavily, my lungs filled with soot, and I looked up and around in shock, disoriented, wondering frantically where I was –

“Maggie, Maggie _calm down_ ,” someone urged – Sirius –

“What – where – Neville?” I asked, coughing horrifically, closing my eyes in pain.

“He’s here –“

“I’m here, Mags, I’m – “ his voice was barely recognizable, it was gravely and rough and like sand paper had been dragged across his throat.

“You should be going back to bed – “

“Mags needed to know I was alive –“

“Go back to bed now, then –“

I was so overwhelmed – and my lungs, they were filled with so much soot – my stomach, so much water – my body, so weak with everything – I turned over to the side and I vomited greatly, clutching the side of the mattress as I did so, shaking with very fibre of my being.

“ _Evanesco!_ ” Sirius said, and I lay back in the bed and groaned heavily.

“Maggie, calm down,” Neville begged, and I turned to see him looking at me from another hospital wing bed. I cried out and reached for him, but he was too far away, and I could feel tears fall freely from my eyes.

“Nev –“ I gasped, and my voice was hoarse – even more than Neville’s – I could barely breathe or think or say anything – I could barely say anything –

“Mags –“ he responded weakly.

I tried to get out of bed, but Sirius forced me back onto it roughly.

“Maggie, you need to _rest_ – “

“What happened?” I gasped out, still struggling, trying to get to him despite being restrained.

Neville was not being restrained – as I struggled against Sirius, he got out of bed and stumbled to mine, crawling in next to me. Sirius threw up his arms in annoyance and gave up as Neville curled up around me and held me weakly – he appeared to be burned too –

“Don’t hurt yourself – “ I whispered.

“Not a chance –“ he mumbled.

“ _Honestly_ ,” Sirius groaned.

“What happened?” I begged, swallowing and sitting up slightly.

“You used elementalism and made a giant fire start around those Death Eaters,” Sirius shrugged, “Neville managed to stop them with water. You both were badly burned and should recover here for about a day, maybe two.”

“What happened to the Death Eaters?” I asked weakly.

“Got away,” Sirius sighed.

“How were they here?” Neville grunted angrily, “I thought Hogwarts was supposed to be safe!”

“It is,” Sirius responded firmly.

“Then how in the hell –“

“No one ever braves the Forbidden Forest. It’s the greatest defense Hogwarts has –“ Sirius sighed.

“But clearly it wasn’t enough!” I screeched.

“You’ve run through the forest multiple times,” Sirius snapped, “Word gets around. You and your friends have proven it can be done.”

I swallowed heavily, looking down at my burnt hands.

“So it’s my fault –“

“No,” Sirius sighed, “I didn’t – all I meant was that they were brave enough to try it now. They were a scouting force.”

“Voldemort sent his best Death Eaters out as a scouting force,” Neville responded skeptically.

“Since they had to go through the Forest to even reach the castle, yes,” Sirius reminded.

“What are they scouting for?” I asked nervously.

“We don’t know,” Sirius sighed.

“Herin said that they were going to try and attack,” I muttered.

“We don’t know why, but it seems like it, yes,” Sirius acknowledged.

“So we are literally never going to be safe,” Neville hissed angrily.

“More Order members are coming – and dragons – Shae sent word out, they’re sending half their army –“ Sirius rambled. I was exhausted and could feel my eyes drooping.

“You both will be fine soon. Your wounds are healing nicely and your scarring should be minimal.”

“We both were almost _entirely_ burned,” I mumbled tiredly.

“Minimal is a relative term. I mean for what damage you have received…”

“Yeah,” Neville whispered hoarsely.

“You both should rest… in your own beds… honestly…”

“No bed without her is mine,” Neville mumbled. I flushed heavily and pressed my face weakly into his neck loath to touch too hard with my body so raw and burned and destroyed.

“Alright, well, you two rest. I’ll be back later,” Sirius sighed, and he left, and my eyes were still barely open.

“Guess we know what your element is, huh?” Neville laughed weakly. I snorted.

“Same for you, then,” I mumbled sleepily.

“Fire and water,” Neville whispered.

“Makes sense,” I murmured, and he kissed me gently where I wasn’t burned, and I quickly was overcome with sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY FOR THE SHORTER CHAPTER this was just the best place to stop to be honest... ehheh friendly reminder that war is a thing... PLEASE COMMENT THANK YOU


	88. Chapter Eighty-Seven: September 12 - 19, 1996, Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "To treasure it all, scroll out to see  
> In gold, fire, wood, clay and water  
> Your structure and flow, adagio to allegro  
> With leaves to the tide  
> In full moon, plum blossom, we salute to you 
> 
> Slow down  
> From a thread of sky  
> Slow down  
> To the warp and weft of your being  
> Slow down  
> Dynamic and playful, you opened my eyes yeah  
> You're pretty damned good as you are 
> 
> Slow down  
> Friend of mine  
> Slow down  
> Could you go for progression not pace  
> Slow down  
> As you unravel your marvels  
> Don't lose them all on the way."  
> ~ Imogen Heap, "Xixi She Knows."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very brief mention of sexual arousal, but no sexual content.

Chapter 87: September 12 – 19, 1996, Hogwarts

They could cover up the scars all they like, and heal me in record time, but when I finally left the Hospital Wing about a week after the incident, no amount of magic or healing could make the pain fully go away. I literally was engulfed in flames. It was an actual miracle I was even alive. My hair had been burnt up to my shoulders and I was only grateful that Neville’s hair had made it out unscathed. The last thing we needed was another gender dysphoria crisis. Still, he was just as burned as m all over, and as we left the Wing hand in hand, he winced with every step.

“At least Hogwarts hasn’t been attacked again,” I offered, grimacing slightly.

“Small comfort,” Neville grunted, wincing slightly in pain.

“We need all the comfort we can get,” I murmured. Neville nodded, a glint in his eye at my words, as we rounded a corner.

Malfoy was headed towards us, and he looked fairly upset – distraught, even. He was wringing his wrists and even – was he – he was _crying_. Only a little, but it was there.

“Malfoy?” I asked in shock. He looked at us, and immediately his whole demeanor changed. He wore that cruel sneer I usually expected from him, and his eyes dried up like the desert.

“What do _you_ invalids want?” he snapped.

“Nothing,” I hissed back, “Nothing from _you_.”

“Then get out of my way,” he growled.

“Make me!” I retorted.

“Ha!” Malfoy laughed, and he rather gently pushed against my shoulder. I cried out in pain.

“Oi!” Neville shouted.

“Watch it Longbottom, or I’ll do that to you too,” Malfoy grinned, “You two are fragile right now. I could plow right through you and barely exert any effort. So _get out of my way_.”

“Fuck you,” I snapped. He snorted and pushed past us violently, hitting Neville more than I, making him cry out in pain.

“Let’s go to Sirius,” I grunted, “He might know something that could help.”

“And Madam Pomfrey wouldn’t?” Neville retorted.

“Well, better safe than sorry,” I muttered.

“Fair enough,” Neville acknowledged, “Let’s go.” We wandered up to Sirius’ office, wincing with every step – I was beginning to regret my decision, wishing that instead we had gone back to our room, maybe even taken a cool bath of some sort.

When we finally reached his office, Neville’s face was shining with sweat, and he honestly looked as though he may vomit. I reached for him and gently stroked his hair, and he groaned softly, leaning against the wall, though it must have hurt. Everything hurt. It’s not like one position would have been better than another.

I knocked weakly on the door, muttering, “Sirius?”

“Just a minute!’

We waited for that minute, but it felt like longer, and Sirius opened the door, partially shielding it from view. It appeared he was wearing a robe, which was odd, to say the least.

“What’s with you two?” Sirius asked, frowning at us.

“We wanted to know if you knew any special burn remedies,” I grunted in pain.

“Not anything Madam Pomfrey wouldn’t have given you,” Sirius confirms, frowning, “I’m sorry.”

“Eh, worth a shot,” Neville sighed.

“Did she give you anything for the pain?” Sirius asked, looking back and forth between us in worry.

“Not really,” I admitted.

“Well then, give me _just_ a second,” Sirius stated calmly, before ducking back into his office and closing the door behind him. I looked at Neville tiredly, and he just shrugged. He looked too tired to carry on a conversation; he probably was.

Sirius came back out and handed us a vial of potion, looking between the two of us wordlessly.

“Go get some rest. You need it,” he stated gruffly, before abruptly returning to his office and closing the door again. I drank half the potion right there outside the door, and Neville drank the other half, before we managed to pull ourselves to our room.

Blue was waiting there, chirping angrily at us, and I could only assume McGonagall had been caring for her. I weakly reached down to pet her and she could see that I was gravely injured; this immediately made her stop being angry with me and start trying to cuddle with me instead. Her feathers were so soft that it barely stung, and as I stripped naked (the fewer layers I had on my blistered skin, the better) she crawled up and curled next to me.

“The dog is sharp, but good,” Neville joked weakly. I stuck my tongue out at him and he stripped as well, climbing in next to us. Blue sat between us, and we both lay on our sides, weakly reaching to hold hands above Blue’s head, on our pillows. It was all we could really touch without being in serious pain.

Neville stared at me, his brown eyes boring into mine.

“I was so scared,” I mumbled softly. I had been. I had been overwhelmed with fear, and that’s why the fire happened. I didn’t have _time_ to overthink it or not trust myself. It just… happened.

“I know,” Neville reassures, “I don’t blame you at all. Not one bit.”

“It was stupid and reckless –“

“You couldn’t control it,” Neville shook his head fiercely, “We were outnumbered and, quite frankly, all four of them were adult, fully-qualified wixen. You did what you had to do, and we made it out alive.”

“We made it out _on fire_ –“

“But alive,” Neville shook his head, “That’s good enough for me.”

I smiled weakly at him and nodded, blowing him a kiss across the bed. He grinned at me, and made a move as though to hold me, but Blue was startled by his shifting in place. She hissed, but only slightly, and nestled up closer against us. I wrapped my arm around her and she hissed again – she _hated_ being held – but she could sense I needed it, I needed to feel her soft down against my arm, and she stopped immediately. Neville wrapped another arm around her and she chirped softly – even happily. I suppose she had missed us enough to enjoy cuddles.

“She’s like our kid,” Neville joked. I snorted at him.

“Yeah, our bird child,” I sniggered.

“Am I wrong?” Neville asked defensively.

“No,” I rolled my eyes, “But I should hope that any actual children we may have would be much more human.”

“Actual children?” Neville asked softly.

I gulped, “I… I mean…”

“Sorry, that’s a way’s down the road,” Neville reassured, “If at all.”

“Yeah,” I whispered. We had never discussed it.

“We don’t have to – we haven’t even – war and all –“ Neville began stammering.

“I have to admit I’m not sure what I want in our future,” I murmured reassuring, “And I’m not in the right place to have that discussion when we very nearly died, quite recently.”

“Yeah,” Neville nodded rapidly, looking nervous and relieved at the same time – probably since I had said _our_ future.

“But I will admit that the thought of kids has crossed my mind a few times,” I whispered very softly. Neville’s eyes were soft and lit up with – excitement?

“You want that, too?” I asked nervously.

“Yeah,” he murmured breathlessly. It was literally breathless – his voice came out so weak I could barely hear it.

“I never – you never –“ I stammered.

“I… honestly Maggie, you never either,” Neville laughed weakly.

“In my defense, we’re in the middle of a war. Most of the time I assume I’m not going to survive,” I sighed.

“Same,” Neville sighed, “But… let’s just… pretend…”

“Then yeah,” I whispered, “I’ve pictured it a few times, and I like the picture.”

“You do?” he grinned weakly.

“I do,” I beamed more, “I like picturing our kids. They’re adorable. Just like you were.”

Neville laughed weakly, “Were?”

“As a child,” I clarified, grinning. Neville laughed even more at that.

“Fair enough… You know, I don’t think I’ve actually seen a picture of you as a kid,” Neville frowned.

“Really? I mean,” I swallowed, “We can go to the Nest, I can show you some.”

“I’d like that,” Neville beamed.

“At any rate… yeah, I picture them. I…” I swallowed, “It makes me happy.”

“It makes me happy too,” Neville whispered.

“I… you’d be a great parent,” I mumbled.

“You’d be a fantastic mum,” Neville laughed.

“How do you know? I’m violent and reckless,” I snorted.

“You are,” Neville agreed, “But you’re protective and so god-damned loving that there is no way you wouldn’t care for any baby we had more than you care for yourself _and_ me.”

I nodded weakly; he was correct.

“Well you are so kind and compassionate that there is no way you wouldn’t be the literal best parent in the entire history of parenthood,” I beamed at him. He had slight tears in his eyes.

“You really think I can do it? Even though I didn’t have good parents?” he mumbled so quietly I knew he was hoping I wouldn’t hear.

“I am one hundred percent positive,” I reassured him quietly.

He was crying fully now and I pulled him closer to me, despite the pain of it all.

“Um…. Is it a ridiculous question to ask how many you envision?” he asked softly.

“Well, I’m a dragon, so, it’s going to be more than one no matter what,” I laughed weakly.

“Right,” he remembered, smiling wider now.

“And… it’s not a leap to imagine that it’ll be a lot, for similar reasons,” I flushed madly, “Are you… are you okay with that possibility? We don’t have to aim for it – we can try to have only two but – “

“Maggie, I grew up in a house with no other children, with no one to play with, only a bunch of old people who didn’t understand me and a grandmother who abused me,” Neville paused, “I wanted siblings so much. I wanted to have people to play with and understand me. I… I wanted a full house, a house with more than just me trying to do magic while my Gran yelled at me and…”

I immediately reached out to hold his face in my hands, and he and I both winced, but I held on anyway.

“It’s always just been a thing for me. I want a big family. I want the opposite of that,” Neville finished.

“Well, it looks like that’s what you’ll get,” I laugh weakly.

“What do _you_ want?” he asked in concern at my wording.

“I thought we _weren’t_ having a big talk about the future?” I snorted.

“We aren’t,” Neville smiled slightly, “We’re talking about kids, one aspect of the future, one aspect of many, to calm ourselves down after nearly dying, and because it’s cute to think about.”

I smiled back at him, wider than he smiled at me. He was, of course, correct.

“They would look like you too, of course,” Neville murmured then, “You said you picture them like me, but I picture them as miniature versions of you.”

“You’re biased,” I giggled.

“So are you!”

We laughed together for a while at that, just staring into each other’s eyes lovingly, drinking each other in thoroughly. I was beginning to get sleepy on the bed.

“Honestly, prior to you, I never thought about kids or the future at all. I think when I was very young – when I was eleven, and Voldemort was after the stone – I accepted that I would die to keep my brother safe from Voldemort,” I mumbled, “I never let myself imagine a future, because I had consigned myself to one that ended early.”

Neville looked heartbroken at this, but I pressed on.

“You gave me a reason to imagine a future. To want to live. To help Harry as much as I could, but to not throw myself away in the process,” I took in a long, shaky breath, “Now, it seems that if you were to die, I would… not be able to handle that due to this shift in motivation… which isn’t good, and I’ll be the first to admit that…”

Neville nodded furiously, remembering my recounting of when I thought he had died.

“But… I want to live now, and… it makes me want things. Things like kids and a future. And I allow myself to hope for them, no matter how foolish that may be,” I mumbled.

“I don’t think it’s foolish,” Neville murmured, almost stubbornly.

“Well, we can agree to disagree on that. At any rate, I like the idea of having a house filled with kids with you. Not just because it would make you happy – I love you, but I haven’t _completely_ lost my sense of self respect – no… its more that I… I feel compelled. I feel compelled to make a little combo you and me. I think they’d be brilliant because of that combination. I think that having a family together – of raising children in a new, brighter world – would bring so much goodness to it. I like the idea of creating something with you, in the most primal way possible. No, I _love_ the idea of creating something with you. We are a team, an excellent team, and I think one day we’ll want some new team members… new ones to teach and to love and to protect and to care for…  and I think I’d be happy with just one, though that’s impossible for us now, or a dozen… as horrific as that sounds to pop out, just thinking of that many of them, all playing together and running about, and interacting with you and interacting with me, and learning from us and teaching us at the same time, and just… we have done much good for this world. We will continue to do good. But I think that this would be especially good for us, as well as the world, and, ultimately… it feels right,” I managed to ramble all this out without stopping, much to my amazement. I had never been good at lengthy speeches.

Neville was sobbing, so much that I was worried I had said something wrong. But before I could express that fear he had pulled me in for a long and passionate kiss. I squeaked with surprise as he rolled on top of me, forcing Blue off of the bed with an angry yelp. His kisses grew frantic, even though we were both in significant amounts of pain; I couldn’t help but respond to them, and I was overwhelmed by the feeling of his body pressed against me, aroused and alert though pained, right after I had had a lengthy treatise about having children.

“I didn’t mean now!” I managed to gasp out with a laugh into his lips. He laughed in response, breathing heavily on top of me.

“My bad,” he panted, making me laugh even more.

He still was on top of me, his penis pressed tightly against my flabby stomach, and I was giggling as he refused to roll off of me.

“What? I can’t help it, that was exceptionally sexy,” Neville grinned.

“I can imagine me insinuating that we make a whole heck of a lot of babies would be, yes,” I laughed.

“That and your reasoning for it. Mostly your reasoning,” Neville started kissing me gently all over my face, even though I winced at times; he simply wouldn’t return to those spots.

“I am… Nev, I’m not…” I managed to mumble. He looked at me in worry.

“You’re not – what? What’s wrong, Maggie?” he managed to splutter out in worry.

“I…” I sat up, wincing with the effort. He did the same, and reacted the same. Blue climbed back into the bed, looking at us both reproachfully.

“I’m not ready yet,” I finally spluttered out.

“I know,” Neville agreed softly, “I was just turned on. I wasn’t going to go any further than that. We both nearly got burned alive last week.”

“I know,” I admitted, because I _did_ know, “I just… wanted to say it.”

There was a long, pregnant pause.

“Can I ask why?” he murmured softly, “I’m not saying I’m ready, either, I just… I’m not ready, for the record… but…”

“Neville, you can say anything, you know you can,” I whispered, feeling nervous by his nervousness.

“I don’t want to sound judgmental, because I’m _not_ , or jealous, because I’m _not_. I’m genuinely confused,” Neville stated simply.

“Alright,” I agreed kindly, “I understand.”

“But… you… you slept with _so_ many people last summer, Mags,” Neville murmured softly, “And I know you were trying, actively, to not feel or experience, to only have pleasure, and a detachment from the people you were doing it with…”

“Yes,” I acknowledged.

“But… something about your tone when you say you’re not ready indicates more than just the fact that you are not at that step physically with me – to actively feel and experience and know, as you so often say,” Neville admitted sheepishly, “It’s… fear…”

I swallowed heavily.

“And I love you, and I know why, superficially you would be afraid, but… I just… given that you had slept with those people that summer… I figured your fear over intercourse, _as it were_ ,” he snorted at the word, “Would dissipate…”

“I… I am not afraid of the actual act,” I admitted quietly.

“I’d never hurt you –“

“I _know_ Neville, I know,” I murmured.

“Then…”

“I am vulnerable with you,” I whispered so softly I worried he wouldn’t hear it, but he did.

“You – what?”

“With those people that summer, I was one hundred percent in control,” I swallowed softly, “I was in charge. I said what we did, I controlled the whole situation, and I said when it was over. With you, we are equals, we are partners. We both have to talk about what we are doing and where it is going. I experience and feel, and you know all my motivations and desires, and the only person I’ve gotten _close_ to being that vulnerable with on a physical level was him.”

“Ah,” Neville murmured after a while.

“So, I’ll get there, I _will_ \- and probably soon, at that – but that’s my hang up. That’s where my mind’s at. It has almost nothing to do with you, specifically, and everything to do with –“

“That rat bastard.”

“Yup,” I agreed softly.

“Well, I understand completely,” Neville reassured softly, “And I don’t care if it takes you a month or years or even decades. I love you, and what I want is for you to be as happy and comfortable in our relationship as possible.”

“Thank you Nev,” I beamed at him, happy that he understood and was patient – granted, as always.

“And yeah, I wasn’t even planning on it then. Just hormone response,” Neville grinned.

“We should research how to protect ourselves, magically,” I laughed, “It _really_ isn’t time right now.”

“Oh Merlin, no,” Neville shook his head madly, “Can you imagine the nightmare that would be? Especially since you _have_ to have multiple kids?”

“More than a nightmare,” I agreed, “Yup. Maybe ask McGonagall tomorrow or something.”

“We are _not_ asking –“

“She’s the closest thing to a Mum we both have and, frankly, I think she knows that we do things anyway. These walls aren’t that thick.”

“That poor woman –“

“Yeah, we owe her one.”

“ _You_ owe her one. You’re the screamer.”

“Oi!” I shouted.

“Yup, like that,” Neville grinned cheekily at me, and I swatted at him lightly with my hand where there wasn’t a noticeable burn mark. He winced still, and I kissed him softly in apology.

“I mean, I enjoy it obviously,” Neville reassured, his eyes twinkling somewhat. I giggled.

“It’s not like you’re quiet, either,” I sniggered, making him flush horrifically.

“Well, no, I suppose not,” he stammered.

I swallowed and looked at him, “I dunno when I’ll be ready for that – for the heteronormative definition of sex –“

Neville laughed weakly and kissed my forehead.

“But – I think – we aren’t having that huge conversation about our future, but, I think we can agree, that…” I swallowed slightly.

“Yeah?” Neville asked nervously.

“I think we can agree that we want to wait to have kids until after the war is over?” I asked him softly.

“Oh god – you think the war could go on so long that we’d be old enough to want that?” Neville groaned.

“I don’t know, Nev, I honestly have no idea,” I admitted, “It could end in two or three years or it could be decades…”

“Maybe we shouldn’t hold ourselves to ‘after the war’, then,” Neville grimaced.

“If we live to 21?” I joked. Neville frowned, looking upset again.

“I’m sorry – we _will_ live –“

“No I know, I’m not really grimacing about that, though I don’t like to think of us dying, I just… I’m not sure what age should be our cutoff,” Neville admitted.

“I picked 21 because my mum was 20 when she had me – I dunno, wizards have kids young, it’s weird,” I laughed.

“I think we just are the children of the last war’s generation, and they all had babies young because they didn’t know how long they’d live,” Neville pointed out.

“True,” I sighed heavily, “Well doesn’t that apply to us?”

“Probably,” Neville admitted, “I guess 21 is a good cutoff age.”

“Would you want it later?” I asked kindly.

“I dunno,” Neville laughed, “A part of me is terrified of accepting any sort of large responsibility, as I am a _teenager_ , and even though we are essentially adults after everything we’ve been through, I know adding on a kid would decidedly be too much, so a part of me wants it later, yes.”

“But…?”

“But I also know life is short, and we could die any day, and I want to have a family – I want to have all those things you said – _so much_ – that a part of me wants it sooner,” Neville whispered.

I smiled lovingly at him, “Yeah, I understand, on both fronts.”

“So what do we do?” Neville laughed, leaning over and kissing me.

“Well since 21 is both too late and too soon, I suppose it’s the right age,” I grinned cheekily.

Neville laughed for a while, smiling lovingly at me, “Yes, I suppose you are correct.” He leaned in and nibbled gently in my nose, making me giggle loudly.

“I’m exhausted,” he murmured softly, “I love you, and I want to keep talking about this, but I feel like I’m going to keel over.”

“Wow, you’d think you were burned to death or something,” I joked. Neville glared slightly at me and I beamed at him.

“I love you,” I laughed after he glared at me for a while, “Yes, let’s sleep.” We returned to lying on our sides around Blue, holding each other’s hands so we wouldn’t hurt too much in the night, and I fairly swiftly fell asleep. Being burned was not exactly a relaxing experience.

Returning to school the next day was painful, as we had literally missed an entire week’s worth of coursework. I hobbled off to Spellweaving, groaning with every step, wondering if I would be able to manipulate fire again, or if nearly burning myself would make me more scared, more unable to actually do the thing.

“Welcome back,” Sam grinned at me as I sat down, “I like the haircut.”

I turned, slowly, and glared at him. He grinned even wider at me.

“Why do you hate me?” I groaned.

“I don’t. I’m honestly glad you’re alive,” Sam admitted.

“Good to know,” I snorted.

“I’m not surprised that’s how you figured it out though,” Sam chuckled. I swatted him lightly, all movement still making me ache, though a good night’s sleep in my own bed had done wonders.

“Have you managed to, in this past week, then?” I asked, grimacing in pain from shifting in my seat.

“Actually yes, by some sort of miracle,” Sam admitted.

“Miracle?”

“Malfoy was being a prat last week because you were gone. Saying that this just contributed to you being mentally unstable and dangerous and yadda yadda yadda,” Sam rolled his eyes, “Hermione got pissed at him – I think she was channeling her inner _you_ , I don’t know, it was so weird not having you there – and she threw rocks at him. She’s getting better, slowly but surely. Anyway, he got furious, and ironically enough lit the whole goddamn room on fire –“

“Fuck –“

“Yeah, Flitwick tried to contain the situation, and none of us got hurt, but it was so dangerous that I managed to use water to cover it up – thank goodness, it saved Ernie –“

“Hooray!” I cheered.

“Malfoy can’t use your inability to control fire as a way to taunt you now, which is good,” Sam reassured.

“Oh definitely. Thank you for that,” I snorted.

“But yeah, that was last Thursday. Monday we cancelled the lesson because you still weren’t here, and honestly, I think Flitwick needed a break from us,” Sam snorted.

“I… I do not blame him,” I laughed.

Hermione walked in then, beaming at the site of me, and I laughed at her.

“What? I missed you!” she protested.

“I know,” I grinned, “I missed you too.” She hugged me lightly and sat next to me, looking over at me in worry.

“I’m _fine_ ,” I reassured calmly.

“Maggie, I _literally_ saw you get engulfed in flames –“

“I’m fine!” I repeated, laughing weakly.

“We should all hang out after this. All four of us,” Hermione stated decisively.

“I have an idea,” I agreed.

“Oh no,” Hermione groaned.

“Trust me,” I beamed. Sam rolled his eyes next to us, shaking his head in bemusement.

Ernie followed not long after her, and his face also lit up at the sight of me.

“Geez, guys, stop making me feel like a person people _like_ ,” I snorted as he hugged me.

“You are!” Ernie snorted.

“I want to be a person who is _feared!_ ” I protested.

“You are!” all three said in unison. I rolled my eyes as Flitwick and Malfoy entered the room at the same time. Malfoy sat, silently, away from the rest of us, fuming slightly. He was probably still reeling after needing Sam to control him.

“Well! It’s good you’ve all figured out your primary elements,” Flitwick beamed at all of us, not even mentioning how I had figured mine out by basically causing a forest fire, “Now, we will work on manipulating the other three later – but first, we must work on _controlling_ your primary element.”

“That seems possible,” I commented lightly. Hermione groaned.

“It is, and it’s not as hard as finding your element, I promise you that,” Flitwick reassured, “Controlling your element is all about awareness. You must be aware of where your element is at all times, what it wants to do versus what you want it to do, and how you can coax it into behaving as you wish. It is the same sort of instinct as is required for so many aspects of magic – such as the summoning charm.”

I groaned, holding my head in my hands. This sounded like my worst nightmare. Awareness wasn’t exactly my strong suit.

“Now I want all of you to work on manipulating your element and keeping it _controlled_. Fire folk, I want to see a small flicker in your hands, no large explosions – though I’m sure they’ll occur, they’re not the goal. Earth folk, I want you to move a small rock – about the size of your fist, you should find a pile in front of you – from one end of the room to the other. Sam, I would like you to turn your water into a gas, and then back to ice. Make sense?” Flitwick explained. We all nodded, me still grimacing.

“Then get to work!” Flitwick urged. I groaned and sat back, holding out my hands and trying to make fire appear. Malfoy already had – I _hated_ that we had the same element – and was trying to make the large blaze in front of him smaller.

I was amused that all the furniture in this classroom was, apparently, purposefully made of stone.

I concentrated first on producing fire, and it was slow going. I could definitely _feel_ it wanting to happen, but every time I got close I was immediately seized with fear – remembering the site of flames engulfing Neville – and I was forced back.

“Miss Johnson, I promise you this environment is completely controlled. You have nothing to worry about,” Flitwick reassured.

I grunted and nodded, glaring as Mafloy sniggered nearby. Granted, his fire only appeared to keep growing; he couldn’t get it to become a small flame no matter what he did.

A fierce desire to make him _shut the fuck up_ ran through me. I swallowed and focused, my brow furrowed in concentration as I did so. I could feel sweat drip from my forehead, and it stung a little against my blisters, but I decidedly tried to ignore that. It was only a reminder of my mistake.

Hermione nearby had managed to control her earth, mold it into a ball, and was trying to toss it across the room. Ernie had no trouble tossing the Earth, but he could never get it to stay in a ball. Sam had managed to turn water into ice, but not into steam, which was the first step.

And I was standing there, no fire in front of me.

I was furious with myself, even more than before, and it was only compounded by how furious I was with Malfoy’s general existence. I was so mad that I managed to actually let myself produce a puff of fire in front of me; it was a small blaze, nothing like when I had been afraid for my life.

“Good work, Miss Johnson!” Flitwick praised.

I sighed. The heat of the flames was irritating near my skin; all I wanted was to be sitting in an icebox. This need was so strong for me that I actually managed to make it decrease a little, which was better than Malfoy, who could only make it larger. I smirked at his clear irritation across the room, making the bag of flames smaller and smaller to get it farther away from me.

There was the slight problem, however, of trying to get the little flame I had reduced it to to go into my hand. It was currently sitting on the ground, almost out, just as small tongue of fire – nowhere near my body.

“Miss Johnson! Simply pick it up!”

I glared at Flitwick, unable to stop myself. Sure. I’d just _pick up fire_ after what had happened a week ago. I tried to will it to fly into my hand, but that only seemed to make it grow large again, and in my fear, I would immediately make it small once more. Back and forth the size of the flame went, Flitwick merely shaking his head at me in bemusement, and I would groan and continue on, swallowing heavily.

“Well I think that’s enough for today,” Flitwick declared after a while, “You’ve all made good progress. See you on Monday.”

I groaned and got up, walking out of the room. Hermione walked over to me and grimaced.

“That was frustrating,” she sighed.

“Not as frustrating as actually trying to manipulate it at all,” I amended, “So what did you want to do?”

“Let’s go outside,” Hermione urged. I frowned at her, but we found Harry and Neville lounging in the Room of Requirement, and grabbed them, all four of us going outside. It was warm and sunny out, and we went over by the lake, closer to the castle than the forest. I could see the large patch of dead grass and burnt earth on the other side of the lake, and I swallowed slightly in sadness.

“What are we doing out here?” Neville grunted, looking annoyed.

“Well Flitwick taught us more about controlling our elements,” Hermione admitted, “So I wanted you, Neville, to practice… and Harry, I want you to try and find yours.”

“Bloody hell, Hermione,” Harry groaned.

“I believe in you!” she reassured happily.

“How are you doing with it, Mags?” Neville asked seriously, looking nervous.

“Since I’m absolutely terrified of harming myself, quite well, actually,” I reassured. Neville perked up considerably at that.

“Good. I don’t need to see you be on fire again,” Neville shuddered.

“Maggie, the dragon, the biter, and now, the girl who was on fire,” Harry joked.

“I swear to God Harry Potter I will punch you in the face – “ I snapped.

“We didn’t star the fire, no, but Maggie did,” Harry continued, grinning.

“What about you being called the bloody _chosen one_?” I retorted.

“Oh god,” Harry groaned, putting his hands over his eyes, “That’s the last thing I want –“

“It’ll be fine,” Hermione scoffed.

“Yeah, I guess,” Harry stared at her, “I mean, if I have you … guys with me.”

I couldn’t tell if he had awkwardly paused on purpose or not. I looked over at him and he was very flushed, looking away from Hermione and at me. I could tell from his face that it had been accidental.

Hermione, meanwhile, looked heavily confused, but didn’t press the issue.

“At any rate, I’ve explained to Harry already how to try and find your element – Neville, to control water, Flitwick was having Sam turn water into steam and then to ice. Can you try that?” Hermione asked

Neville nodded rapidly, looking determined.

“Alright. I think extra practice for Maggie and I would be good. Let’s get started,” Hermione urged. I turned and, scrunching up my face in concentration, made a small fire appear before me. I almost instantly got it to go smaller again, a small wisp of flame hanging in the air before me. Every time I approached it, it _still_ was too hot for me; I was having the same struggle as I was in the classroom. Hermione, similarly, could not make her perfect ball of earth move through the air even one inch; it just hovered in front of her, taunting her.

Neville, however, was surprising.

He had taken up a large body of water – about a gallon’s worth – and was hovering it before him. His eyes and face scrunched up in pain, he managed to make it turn into a cloud of water vapor before him. That happened very fast; he spent quite a long time trying to turn it into ice, but, somehow, seemingly faster than any of us would have expected given how long Neville typically took to new magical skills, it had turned to a gallon of ice that fell on the ground below him.

“Bloody Hell, Neville,” Harry frowned in amazement, still trying to figure his element out, as it had only been around three hours.

“I don’t – I don’t know how I did that –“ Neville whispered.

“Maybe you’re just good at this?” I offered, grinning at him proudly. He flushed madly at that and shuffled his feet.

“I’m _never_ just good at things. I need to practice and study,” Neville muttered.

“Bout time you were, mate,” Harry shook his head in amusement.

Neville frowned and then took the ice block off of the ground. He melted it into water again and twirled the water around his body, almost curiously.

Hermione, _never_ one to be shown up by _anyone_ , managed to actually fling her rock forward then.

“Holy cow, Hermione! That must have been half a mile!” I gasped.

Hermione looked at me with a smirk. Harry was shaking his head.

“Maggie, that was only, what, half a Quidditch pitch?”

“Isn’t that half a mile?” I asked in confusion.

“Maggie, half a Quidditch pitch is only about eighty yards,” Harry shook his head, still, in bemusement.

“Aren’t those the same?” I frowned.

“Oh my god,” Harry groaned, running a hand through his hair.

“Judging distances is not Maggie’s strong suit,” Neville urged, wrapping an arm around me comfortingly. I looked up at him in anger.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“It’s not, and that’s okay,” he grinned at me.

“Well _walking_ isn’t _your_ strong suit,” I huffed.

“I will freely admit this, as I tripped over the pointy bird this morning,” Neville laughed.

“Oh dear, will Blue forgive him?” Hermione grinned, bringing the ball of earth back to her and tossing it forward again.

“With time. She’s sulking in our room right now,” I giggled. Neville kissed the side of my head lovingly.

“Alright, back to work,” I laughed, and Neville removed himself from me, turning back to the lake and making tongues of water shoot out from him every which way. He really _was_ a natural, which was amazing to witness. Even herbology – though he took to it easily – required more work for him than this.

I was so joyful that I didn’t really have my guard up. It was nice to be with my friends and to be doing something together, without any _real_ worries in our heads about Voldemort or Death Eaters or the fate of the world. The fire before me grew larger, and soon it was so big that I was having significant trouble controlling it.

“Ahh!” I screamed in fear, scurrying back from it, panicking horrifically. The fire, however, followed me – it _was_ tied to my energy after all. Neville immediately turned and began directing water towards it, however, Hermione was already on the case. A large chunk of dirt removed itself from the ground and smothered the fire, completely covering it, and thus extinguishing it better than just water could. Neville grunted in annoyance at being subverted, but I was more annoyed with myself for being unable to control it.

“You’ll get it eventually, Mags, you always do,” Hermione reassured quietly.

I harrumphed in annoyance.

“You eventually figured out your animagus form. You’ve learned to, at least some extent, control your anger. This is just another aspect of yourself you need to understand and realize. You’ll get there, you will,” Hermione continued.

“Not if I’m constantly afraid of hurting myself and others,” I muttered angrily.

“Well that’s why you have Neville and me,” Hermione stated firmly.

“Neville doesn’t always work,” I grumbled.

“No, sometimes I make your fire bigger, which is important too,” Neville called from the lake, where he was still twisting streams of water around and far away from him, only to come back towards him again. It was like he was weaving a large serpent through the air.

It was absolutely mesmerizing to watch.

I sighed and focused, producing fire in front of me again. It was a small blaze, and it didn’t take me long to make it as small as possible. But it also stayed as far away from me as possible.

I swallowed heavily and grunted with the effort of trying to make it move, but it wouldn’t come any closer to me. It was like there was an invisible barrier between the fire and I that I could not surmount.

“This is hopeless,” I grunted in annoyance.

“No it’s not,” Neville reassured, but he looked troubled.

“It’s _decidedly_ not,” Harry agreed. I looked at him in confusion. He had spent the past few hours trying to make _any_ element move, and had been failing. He had a new determination in his eyes, one that was quite startling. He started moving his hands and frowning greatly, and I just watched him in amusement, as he looked like he was trying his hand at interpretive dance and _failing_. Neville was sniggering heavily in a corner. Hermione was rolling her eyes.

“Are you, trying to move my fire fore me?” I laughed.

“I don’t think fire’s your element, mate,” Neville grinned.

“No, It’s not,” Harry agreed, grimacing greatly. Suddenly, a puff of air blew from him to me – one much stronger than nature could produce. It dove underneath the fire and pushed it closer to me, and I had no choice but to catch it underneath my hand. I stared at the fire in amazement.

“It’s air,” Harry grinned cheekily. We all looked at him in amazement.

“What? Is this really a surprise, based on what you lot have told me?” Harry asked.

I frowned.

“I have been chained to a destiny, whether I knew it or not, my whole life, one that I did not want – so I value freedom. I value it more than anything, and you lot _know_ this,” Harry shook his head in bemusement.

“This is true,” I nodded, smiling slightly.

“You also are a good person,” Hermione admitted.

“It’s why you can defeat Voldemort! Your capacity to love and all that!” Neville laughed.

“And didn’t you lot say air represented joy and kind-heartedness?” Harry sniggered.

“This is fair,” I rolled my eyes.

“You also can be _very_ indecisive,” Hermione smirked.

“Oi!” Harry shouted, but he was flushing, “No I’m not!”

“Uh, yeah you are,” I giggled. He glared at me.

“I’m just thinking of our last conversation, brother,” I beamed.

Neville and Hermione looked at us in wonder and excitement, but Harry was glaring at me so much I knew to not say another word.

“At any rate – er – the last thing I was going to say was – didn’t you say that the best teams are made up of equal portions of each element, or something like that?” Harry muttered, turning back to Hermione.

“That’s… that’s also true,” Hermione frowned, “Yes, I suppose I should have seen this coming.”

“Plus it means you and Harry are the perfect pair,” I grinned. Harry was glaring at me so fiercely I thought he would destroy me just with his gaze. Neville, who only thought that I was embarrassing Hermione, was too busy to see this, as he was laughing his arse off into his hands. Hermione also didn’t see Harry’s face, as she was busy glaring at me as well, thinking I had meant her.

“Well I think it’s time for Herbology,” I beamed, extinguishing the fire in my hand – it really wasn’t dangerous _or_ scary, I found, though the heat was a little uncomfortable, but that would probably pass in time – and heading towards the Greenhouses with a laugh.

Somehow, it was easier to figure out this fire thing when I had my friends by my side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wooooo! Cuteness and fun times with new magical skills! Yeah! Lightening the mood after the last chapter! Woo! PLEASE comment I don't think I've gotten any from the last one... it's made me sad... so please comment, thanks :)


	89. Chapter Eighty - Eight: September 20, 1996, Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Why drink the water from my hand?   
> Contagious as you think I am   
> Just tilt my sun towards your domain   
> Your cup runneth over again 
> 
> Don't scream about, don't think aloud   
> Turn your head now, baby, just spit me out   
> Don't worry about, don't speak of doubt   
> Turn your head now, baby, just spit me out 
> 
> Why follow me to higher ground?   
> Lost as you swear I am   
> Don't throw away your basic needs   
> Ambiance and vanity 
> 
> Don't scream about, don't think aloud   
> Turn your head now, baby, just spit me out   
> Don't worry about, don't speak of doubt   
> Turn your head now, baby, just spit me out."   
> ~ Collective Soul, "December"

Chapter 88: September 20, 1996, Hogwarts

“So how have you been doing?”

I had just sat down in front of Shae. I was a week late to our first appointment, but I had a large chunk of time between transfiguration and care of magical creatures on Fridays, so I luckily had a point where I could meet with her at least. Her office was small but clean, and covered in all sorts of posters advertising different things about mental health and to raise awareness about various mental health conditions.

I frowned for a while, studying her intently.

“I’ve been okay,” I answered simply.

“I’m going to need you to elaborate on that, Maggie. Yes we know each other, but this is a different situation. You’re not an underage girl sitting at a bar, and I am not a bartender. You need to say more.”

I groaned, running my hands through my hair.

“How have you been doing?” Shae insisted, frowning heavily at me.

“I’ve been focusing on elementalism. I haven’t had time to think about much else,” I stated calmly.

“Have you been working on your transfigurations?” Shae asked, writing something down on her clipboard.

“No,” I admitted shamefully, “But I’m sure McGonagall understands.”

“It’s not McGonagall,” Shae shook her head rapidly, “Transfiguration is one of the things that relaxes you the most. You need it in your life.”

“Well I should have time to get back to it this week,” I admitted.

“See that you do,” Shae paused, “You need to have outlets. I hear elementalism isn’t going well for you…”

“ _Hear?_ Didn’t you see me in flames?”

“Well, yes,” Shae frowned at me, her lips pressing into a McGonagall-esque thin line, “Sorry, I was trying to be nice about it.”

“I’m fine,” I sighed.

“You were nearly burned alive,” Shae shook her head in bemusement, “Do you want to talk about that?”

“Not really,” I muttered. I didn’t even want to remember it. The thought of Neville engulfed in flames was now the thing haunting my memories, and the _only_ thing that comforted me was waking up and finding him next to me, alive, and breathing.

She scribbled something else down.

“How are your PTSD symptoms?”

“Barely notice ‘em.” It was true. Besides the nightmares, I hadn’t really been having _any_ intrusive thoughts or flashbacks – I even was beginning to picture a future.

“Any self deprecating thoughts?”

“Only all the time.” It wasn’t like I had _ever_ had a very high opinion of myself. I just wanted to be left alone, ninety percent of the time.

“Any urge to act on them?”

“No,” I responded firmly. I would _never_ do that to Neville again. Picturing his face when I had woken up after nearly killing myself would _always_ be enough to hold me back from that.

He had looked so heartbroken… so lost… so destroyed…

He would have followed after me in a second…

That was unacceptable…

Shae scribbled even more on her clipboard.

“Maggie, will you be speaking like this the entire session?” she finally asked, sighing heavily.

“Probably,” I admitted mournfully. I couldn’t force more words out. My lips were practically glued shut, and my hands were closed tightly around the armrests of my chair. I didn’t know how to say anything. I didn’t want to worry her or lay it all on her. It was private, personal, _my_ thing to deal with, not hers, not anyone else’s. Maybe Neville, but he was my partner. I needed to share everything – everything _important_ \- with him, or we wouldn’t be able to work together as well as we did.

“Will you be acting like this for the entirety of our time together?” Shae snapped.

“I don’t know,” I answered honestly.

“Maggie, why are you having trouble opening up?” Shae sighed, setting down her clipboard and looking at me earnestly.

“I have no idea,” I muttered sadly, “I really, really don’t. I wish I had an idea. I just… I haven’t talked about this stuff in a while. I don’t… I don’t _want_ to,” I finished angrily.

“Why don’t you want to?” Shae asked softly.

“Because – because – because I’ve been happy! Not thinking about it has let me be happy! I just – I forget all that _crap_ – and I pretend it didn’t happen – or I don’t _pretend_ , of course I don’t _pretend_ , but I just – I focus on everything else – I don’t let myself think about it!” I snapped angrily. I could feel red in the corners of my eyes and I gripped my fists tightly, counting backwards from ten. Picturing Neville’s face, of course, helped, and soon I began to calm down a little.

“You can’t do that, Maggie, you have to let yourself feel these –“

“I don’t have _time_ to feel these emotions!” I roared, feeling so much come to a head inside of me, the picture of Neville no longer helping in completely quelling my anger and red, “I don’t have _time_ to think about how I tried to kill myself – or how I was raped – or how I was homeless – or how I was tortured – or how I nearly lost Neville or Harry or Hermione – or how I lost my parents – I don’t have time to think about this! I have to think about school, and the war, and being with Neville and my friends and enjoying every minute of it because it might be our last – I don’t have time to dwell on the rest of it all!” I screeched so angrily I could feel my hands balling into fists.

“It does not matter if you do not feel you have time, Maggie, you _have_ to, or else you’ll explode,” Shae urged.

“Well I can’t right now,” I snapped. I gritted my teeth as tightly as I could in anger. How dare she not understand that.

“Tell me about your parents,” Shae sighed, sitting back and holding her forehead in her palm out of exasperation.

A sharp tug went on my heart. I briefly pictured them in my mind. The picture was so painful that my mind immediately blocked it out, locking the image away, far away, from where it couldn’t pull my heart out of my chest anymore.

“No.”

“Tell me about your suicide attempt.”

Neville’s face gave my heart a harder tug.

“No.”

“Tell me about being raped.

I thought of George, sitting in Azkaban, telling no one why or even if it was for what I hoped it was for – not apologizing – not accepting what he had done to _my_ face – not being gracious – not accepting he was wrong –

My heart was being pulled apart in three directions now.

“No.”

“Tell me about Neville almost dying!”

My heart was shattering, and I was scrambling to put the pieces of it back together.

“No,” my voice was shaking uncontrollably, and frankly I couldn’t really think straight. The shattered heart was hard to glue at the best of times, and I didn’t have anything to glue it with.

“Tell me about Neville then. How have you two been?” Shae urged.

“Good,” I smiled weakly, _there’s some glue_ , “Really good.”

“Well that’s not a surprise,” Shae frowned, “How have you been dealing post battle?”

“We don’t talk about it much.”

“My god –“

“Look, we are all just focusing on everything else, okay?” I insisted, shaking somewhat. She was burning my glue. I pictured Harry laughing – Hermione reading – Ginny shooting arrows – Sam sketching – Elena cataloguing her books – Claire pranking Elena – Neville tending to a Venemous Tentacula –

I began to breathe a little easier –

Shae looked up at the clock in her office with a frown.

“Maggie, why have you closed yourself off to me? You didn’t want to talk about these issues in Chicago, but you did anyway,” Shae sighed heavily.

“Alcohol?” I offered, trying to not laugh.

“Perhaps,” Shae admitted, “Do you think it could also be because I was, at the time, a stranger?”

“Probably,” I mumbled in embarrassment.

“Well,” Shae stuck her sheet from today into a folder, “We’re going to have our first group therapy session next week. You _have_ to come. You don’t have to talk – I accept this as a lost cause – but I would like you to come and listen. Maybe hearing others share their feelings will aid you.”

“When is it?” I sighed. I knew I would just feel uncomfortable – out of place – like all eyes were on me – sweating nervously – why would they care – why –

“After dinner on Monday. Most free day for everyone. Some people won’t be able to make it, but we’ll shift around every other week for everyone to have a chance to come in,” Shae explained, “I hope we can make more progress as time goes on.”

I frowned. I knew that I couldn’t do this forever. It was unhelpful, to say the last, and I would be squandering something I knew I needed. My heart was shattering at the mere _mention_ of any of these things and I _had_ to find a way to move forward, quickly, before the war threatened to break me again… or actually succeeded…

I thought of Neville, dead on the floor, for the briefest of moments, before my mind blocked out that image completely.

“I do too,” I answered honestly.

“Good. See you on Monday,” Shae waved me off. I left the room and sighed heavily, walking through the corridors. I honestly didn’t know why I was having such a mental block about this. I guess I just didn’t want to burden Shae anymore.

 _Hard to move past that_ , a voice nagged in my ear. I swallowed and ignored it. I would have to work past it, but now was not the time. Now was never the time.

I had Care of Magical Creatures soon, so I picked up the pace and scurried down to the grounds. I didn’t collect Blue from my room, even though I knew she must have been bored – but large, dangerous magical creatures weren’t exactly her favorite thing on the planet. I scurried down to the small group of students – not many, but some. Truthfully, Hagrid’s teaching had not exactly been… the best. Neville and I stayed partially out of loyalty, partially out of love for the actual subject. A mixture of the two held true for all the students in the class. Sam was there almost entirely out of loyalty. Hannah, almost entirely out of interest – she was truly gentle with the hippogriffs we had worked with two weeks ago. Dean, a mixture of both, same as Neville and I – though he seemed to enjoy being there to some extent.

The first day, Hagrid had been more than a little disappointed that Harry and Hermione weren’t there. And by more, I meant a hell of a lot more.

He still hadn’t spoken a word to them.

“Greetin’s, Maggie!” Hagrid beamed at me, “Today we’re doin’ Thestrals!”

“Oooh!” Hannah squealed with glee, “Oh they’re really rare, they are!”

“Exactly, Hannah,” Hagrid grinned, “Now, who of yah can see ‘em?

I raise my hand in the air – after the battle we had been in, Sam did too. Dean did as well, but Hannah and Neville’s hands remained down.

“Ah, good ter know, good ter know,” Hagrid nodded, “Now, do you all know why some people can see ‘em but others can’t?”

Dean raised his hand before I could, which was amusing, and Hagrid called on him.

“You only see them if you’ve seen someone die, and have processed that death,” Dean explained calmly.

“Excellent, Dean, five points fer Gryffindor,” Hagrid beamed, “Now when you haven’t seen o’ processed death, they’re invisible… so they pull the Hogwarts carriages, and most students can’ see em.”

“That was a nasty shock,” Sam shuddered.

“Who did you see die, then?” I asked him in confusion.

“I saw your mum die,” Sam frowned at me, “No we didn’t come up to the castle in the carriages but I went out and saw them when we got back from Diagon Alley, all harnessing up and ready to go.”

“I’ve got the largest tame herd in Britain,” Hagrid stated proudly. I sighed. The shock of having seen these things last year had been great, and it wasn’t exactly good knowing how I had come to see them.

“Who did you see die, Dean?” Hannah asked curiously. He looked over at her and frowned.

“My little sister. She had cancer,” Dean stated sadly.

“Cancer?” Hannah frowned.

“You know, this disease that makes your cells grow uncontrollably?” Dean frowned, “It’s pretty common with muggles. Can happen for loads of reasons.”

“That’s strange,” Hannah looked troubled.

“I’ve never heard o’ tha’,” Hagrid agreed.

“It… should affect wixen too,” Dean was frowning greater.

“Nah,” Sam snorted. I looked over at him in amusement.

“Aunt Iseul told me this once. When we’re born, wixen put this spell on us. Keeps our vital genes stable. No deleterious mutations. Of course, not like wizards know that – it’s just a spell that was invented to make things like cancer not happen,” Sam shrugged.

“And… no one thought to help muggles out and do this for them to?” I asked, feeling red cloud my vision. After my lousy first therapy session, I wasn’t in the best place to actively deal with wixen elitism.

“Nope. Statute of Secrecy!” Sam stated in a falsely bright voice.

“Is it really bad though? Or is death a common thing for it?” Neville asked curiously.

“Depends on the type, but, most cause death, yes,” Dean was scowling horrifically, looking furious with this new information.

“Oh… my,” Neville finally settled on, looking horrified.

“And the treatments muggles use are terrible, too. They don’t have a good way of treating it, so they basically poison the body, on the off chance it’ll kill more bad cells than good,” Dean laughed humorlessly, grabbing his bag from the ground, “Sorry, Hagrid, I can’t really do this class today. I’ll make up the work later, yeah?”

He walked off suddenly then, furiously stalking up the hill. I watched him go, but I was getting furious myself. My fingernails were digging, tightly, into my palms.

“Mags?” Neville asked softly, sounding nervous.

“Yeah,” I grunted through my clenched teeth.

“Hagrid, I think we should just call off the lesson. This wasn’t good news,” Neville whispered softly.

“I… yes, yes you might be right,” Hagrid said nervously, eying me wearily.

I had never known anyone who died of cancer. But Mum had. Mum, in fact, had lost _her_ mum to cancer. Had she known about this? Did she know what they did? Did she try and fight it and fail, or did she die ignorant that her mum could have been saved?

Did this happen in every country, or only Great Britain?

How long had they been able to do this? How long had this been going on? How long had muggles been needlessly suffering?

I was literally blind with rage and I couldn’t control it. I had only managed to walk up to the entryway of the castle before I roared at the stone wall in fury.

“Mags?!” Neville shouted. I roared even louder and suddenly I was clutching the sides of the wall as a dragon, my talons digging into the rocks as I roared into the sky. I pressed into the stone wall heavily, my tail extending behind me, the faint traces of protofeathers on my skin bristling up with fury as I stretched and screamed and roared and flapped my wings as hard as I could.

“Fuck!” Neville shouted louder as I took off flying, completely on instinct, roaring angrily and twisting and turning in the sky. I breathed fire out in front of me, even though it hurt; I went as high as I could up into the air, and I flipped and turned around on my axis, swirling around in circles of rage, unable to pay attention to anyone near me.

I could hear a roar in the distance – I knew Herin could hear me screaming. I roared back, unintelligibly, unable to stop myself as I let my voice rip through the valley, no doubt waking up every creepy crawly thing for miles around – and every beast of that forest. I flew every which way in the air, trying to destroy it with my claws, unable to because it was air, but I knew if I went back down there I would rip apart the nearest thing with my hands, and that couldn’t be, because I would hurt someone who didn’t deserve it.

“Maggie!” Neville cried out after me, and so did others from the creatures class; Hagrid was shouting loudest of all, probably – I could make it out, _definitely_ \- at another student to run and get McGonagall or Shae. I flew up as high as I could and roared, screaming up at the sky in fury before zooming back down towards the ground, unable to control my anger at how _uniquely horrific_ this was to learn – I had to rip – I had to tear – I had destroy – I had to destroy _them_ \- all of them – all of those horrible people who had denied others the help they needed – I had to rip and tear and kill and bite and scratch and claw and _burn_ and _destroy all of them the way they destroyed muggles –_

_HOW DARE THEY?!_

_HOW COULD ANYONE JUSTIFY SUCH A THING TO THEMSELVES?!_

_WHAT WAS **WRONG** WITH WIXEN?!_

I zoomed as fast as I could, and I could barely see anything; my vision blurred all around me and I was blind to my surroundings, I was absorbed in them, I was engulfed in the air and the fury, and the ground was rushing up towards me and I wasn’t paying attention, I just had to destroy and claw and break and tear and bite –

“MAGS!” Neville roared. I halted in my tracks, stopping my descent in shock as Neville actually stood in front of me, staring at me and panting horrifically, literally entering my line of flight regardless of the risks.

The risks were extremely high, and I _knew_ he knew that, just from the look on his face – not of fear – but of desperation – of bravery –

I hovered in front of him, though the effort took a major toll on my wings; dragons weren’t built for hovering. Neville looked at me earnestly and desperately, not a drop of fear in his eyes even though I currently could tear anyone – including him – limb from limb.

Not that I would ever tear him apart.

The ability was just there.

The desire to tear apart _anyone_ was there, and he was nearby –

His brown eyes bore deeply into mine, which were still of course green and recognizable even as a dragon. He was the picture of calm, now that I had stopped crashing towards the earth; my snout was mere inches away from his nose, but he didn’t flinch away or move at all.

“Maggie, breathe. It’s going to be okay,” he whispered.

I took a deep breath, huffing slightly as I managed to settle to the ground. Staring at him continuously finally made me calm down – he _was_ , supposedly, my constant, after all. I managed to transform back, sitting cross legged on the ground before him, staring at my knees.

He immediately sat down in front of me and took my hands in his. I looked up, trying to control my breathing again and failing horrifically. I was so mad I wanted to scream.

“We’re going to fix it,” he whispered earnestly.

“How?” I growled furiously.

“I don’t know, but we are. We’re going to have a DA Meeting tonight, and we’re going to start putting the plans for the rebellion in motion,” Neville reached out and stroked my shoulder-length hair, “We’re going to figure it out. I swear.”

I nodded, and as he stroked my hair I grew calmer and calmer. Eventually, when I had completely un-tensed, he pulled me into a long and comforting hug.

“This won’t go on forever, Maggie, I promise,” he soothed into my ear.

“I hope so,” I muttered mutinously.

“Send a message on your galleon – meeting, tonight, eight o’clock,” Neville urged. I pulled out my wand and muttered, changing the numbers on the galleons to today’s date and that time. Neville then kissed my forehead lovingly and helped me up off of the ground.

“Thank you, Nev,” I mumbled in embarrassment.

“I’m just glad I got you to calm down,” Neville breathed a heavy sigh of relief, “You were freaking out there. I had no idea what to do.”

“What you did was the right action,” I reassured.

“How can my just staring at you be the right thing?” he laughed, obviously trying to lighten the mood.

“Because you’re my constant,” I mumbled in embarrassment. He looked at me, half in confusion, half in surprise.

“Wha –“

“Remember? Dragons can’t control their shifting sometimes so they have constants to calm themselves down with?” I offered, my cheeks flushing madly with color.

“Yeah – yeah I remember – I – so I’m your…” Neville flushed with me.

“Is that a surprise, really?” I snorted.

“No, just, more romantic than your usual self,” Neville grinned slightly. I rolled my eyes at him.

“Hardly romantic that you’re the thing that keeps me calm.”

“You’re right, it’s not _hardly_ romantic. It’s _extremely_ romantic,” Neville kissed my forehead again, “I love you.”

I smiled up at him and nodded, “I love you, too.” It was hard to not when he could so easily bring me back down to earth.

The other members of the D.A. seemed confused when we went up to dinner, but when I explained that I had something important to say, they all immediately agreed to come. Harry and Hermione, who usually knew things, were especially confused; I merely shook my head and stared down at my plate, angrily stabbing my food in front of me. Neville might calm me, but completely pacifying me after this was impossible for anyone. Blue, noticing my tensed-ness, kept rubbing up against me. It didn’t help much.

“I think the worst part is, is, that I should have guessed,” I grunted in annoyance as Neville and I headed up to the room together.

“What do you mean?” Neville asked worriedly, immediately rubbing my shoulders with his hands.

“I mean… I could genetically engineer Blue,” I gestured to her walking besides us, “Of _course_ wixen could cure cancer. And honestly, I should have noted wixen never seem to come down with muggle ailments.”

“When you put it like that, it does seem fairly obvious,” Neville agreed mournfully.

“This has to stop. It has to stop _now_. It’s gone on far too long,” I grunted.

“I know, I agree,” Neville nodded. We reached the room of requirement and I immediately stood at the front of it, pacing back and forth.

“But we can’t focus on this now, Mags. We have to fix the way the government works, first; _then_ we can focus on specific policy, and you know that,” Neville sighed.

“I do, I just can’t think straight,” I grunted.

“Deep breaths,” Neville reminded. I did so, leaning against the wall and breathing in as deeply as I could. Blue came back up for more scritchles and I happily obliged, enjoying the feeling of her down between my fingers, finding more comfort in that and in Neville’s voice and presence than I did, admittedly, in his words. I knew he was right; I just couldn’t accept it. He walked up to me and held me tightly to him, trying to sooth me with soft murmurs, but I was shaking from head to foot.

People were _dying_.

I growled, low and furious, under my breath.

Neville immediately continued to try and calm me, kissing the side of my head lovingly. He trailed kisses down my entire face, not leaving any inch un-kissed, his lips soft and loving against my skin and meticulous in their care and comfort. I sighed happily at this, but I couldn’t be fully distracted, no matter how much his stubble tickled my chin, or his lips excited my own, or his hair fluttered against my cheeks.

“Do you think this applies to other diseases, too?” I grumbled after a while, unable to not kill the mood, as furious as I was. I didn’t _want_ to make him stop kissing me… I just couldn’t think straight as it was…

“Wha?” Neville asked, looking grumpy at being interrupted from his vigil.

“Things like HIV and TB and Hep B and C and ebola and all these other terrible, terrible diseases. Not like I hear of wizards getting them either. Think there’s some automatic magical immunity for it? Or something that they put on all of us?” I snapped furiously.

“Probably,” Neville admitted mournfully, looking sorry for being grumpy that he had to stop kissing me.

“No wonder I didn’t get a blood STD that summer,” I hissed, “I mean, I was using protection, but it’s still a bloody miracle –“

“I’m glad of that, for the record –“

“I’m not saying you shouldn’t be, I’m just saying, _everyone should get it!”_ I was going to shift again. Neville immediately went in front of me and looked at me intensely, his eyes boring into mine again. I instantly began to calm down, and Blue was rubbing up against my leg, and my breathing slowed back to normal. He began kissing every inch of my face again, and spent a good amount of time on my lips, and soon we were snogging passionately. I wrapped my arms around him tightly and he held me just as tightly to him, holding me as close as he could, trying to comfort and love all the anger out of me, but not even he could do that.

Water couldn’t calm _all_ the fire. Sometimes, it just got worse.

I pulled away from his perfect lips and stared at him mournfully, trying to not let myself get furious again. It was a tall order, and Neville could clearly see that in my eyes. He reached out and gently stroked my cheek with the back of his knuckles, frowning sadly.

“I should probably talk for this,” Neville sighed despondently.

“You _hate_ public speaking –“

“Yeah, well, you turning into a raging dragon I hate more, so I’ll get through it. And not that I hate you as a dragon – I love it, in fact – it’s the dangerous, will hurt herself and others dragon that I’d rather not see,” Neville clarified.

“Thanks,” I mumbled, pressing my face into his shoulder.

“Of course love,” he nodded rapidly. I wrapped my arms tightly around him and sighed, trying to calm myself down from my anger. He kissed the top of my head lovingly and held me again, rubbing my arm with his thumb and resting his head on top of mine.

“Oi! Lovebirds!” I looked up to see Kat entering, Peter not far behind her, and smirking at us.

“What’s with the impromptu meeting?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You’ll see,” Neville sighed heavily. Kat frowned and Peter grabbed her loosely by the sleeve of her shirt, clearly trying to get her to walk over with him. She followed, looking disgruntled as she did so, and I sighed at Neville. He rubbed the small of my back comfortingly as more and more people entered the room, milling about and chatting while looking at the two of us curiously.

“So what’s this about then?” Harry laughed, walking up to us, “Haven’t seen you both all day.”

“It’s been a long day,” Neville sighed heavily. Harry looked horrifically concerned at his moderately despondent tone. Hermione pursed her lips together in a thin line that I decided to ignore until the meeting had called to order.

“Alright, so, today we learned some things,” I grunted in anger. Everyone stared at us curiously, and I could see Dean sulking in the corner of the room, looking as mad as he had when he left – and for obvious, good reason.

“In the muggle world, there are a variety of diseases that can kill you. Some of them are transmitted via other organisms – tiny little organisms that can get inside your body and make you sick. Some of them are caused by our bodies themselves not working,” I harrumphed angrily at the thought of where this conversation was headed, “Some of them can be cured… some of them can be treated… most of them kill though. They’re terrible and bad and ruin lives and – I’m rambling. I’m not the one who should be talking about this.”

“Essentially,” Neville murmured in the quiet voice he got whenever he was being forced to talk to a large group of people like this, shifting his feet nervously, “Essentially, wizards and witches get spells placed on them that make them immune to muggle diseases. And, given that muggles suffer so much from them…”

But the room was already gone. Half the people were shouting in protest and anger much as Dean and I had earlier. Many others were muttering mutinously and looking around in fury. Some other seemed hesitant and unsure.

“Obviously, we need to talk about this more, but there are some serious implications of this –“ Neville tried to continue over the fray.

“The only serious implication of this is that the wizards are killing muggles for no good reason!” Collin Creevey shouted furiously from the back of the room.

“What about the ecosystem, though? There’s got to be unforeseen consequences to that amount of manipulation of the environment and of the biology of ourselves – I’d rather wizards just suffer through these diseases same as muggles!” Valerie shouted. I realized she had a point, but it wasn’t one I particularly _liked._

“Then we need a compromise –“ Terry intervened.

“It would turn into a meritocracy!” Nadia scoffed.

“There’d be some sort of money involved –“ Seamus grumbled.

“Wizards would all end up immune anyway! It’s everyone or no one!” Kat shrieked.

“There’s no way to do that without breaking the statute of secrecy! Or subjecting wixen to these diseases that they’d just cure anyway!” Michael snorted.

“You are _never_ going to convince me that a wixen coming down with cancer isn’t going to immediately cure that –“ Dean muttered angrily from his corner.

“No one’s ever going to go for breaking the statute!” Valerie laughed humorlessly.

“It’s not like muggles have to deal with wixen diseases – I dunno seems unfair to make wixen deal with both but muggles neither – “ Hannah mumbled timidly.

“That’s a fair point, Hannah, but wixen _hardly ever die_ from our diseases – we mostly have them figured out, too! And muggles are dying everywhere from so many things – have you _heard about HIV_?” Dean roared furiously.

“Wixen should really be helping with that –“ Collin muttered.

“Why should it be the job of wixen to solve muggle problems?” Astoria commented shrewdly, “That’s _why_ the statute exists!”

“Because they’re _human_ problems!” Dean yelled at the top of his lungs.

“Maybe we should just get rid of the statute!” Valerie laughed again, looking serious, “I mean seriously, muggles are going to figure out magic exists _sometime –_ their technology is getting better by the second – “

“It’s only a matter of time,” Collin agreed grimly.

“But that doesn’t mean we just magically erase all diseases –“ Ernie piped up.

“But why should wixen get to have _theirs_ magically erased?” Ginny grumbled.

“Guys! Everyone, _chill!_ ” Harry finally ordered. The room went silent, everyone looking at him expectantly. I harrumphed, crossing my arms furiously over my chest.

“Look, there’s a lot of strange, new moral territory here,” Harry paused, looking flustered at the attention he had managed to garner so quickly, “I’m not saying it’s right that wixen have been doing this – but I don’t think there’s a good solution.”

“So what do we do?” Dean muttered furiously. Seamus was trying to calm him, but was obviously failing.

“We start the rebellion,” Harry stated calmly. Everyone looked at him in surprise.

“It’s a little early in the term, yes, but we’ve had two weeks of school. We need to get started. We’ve stalled on this long enough,” Harry frowned and shook his head grimly, “We have to start raising awareness of the things that are wrong in our government and system – all of it, including this – and we have to get people talking. We have to make the school aware. It’s like ‘Mione said – things are… relatively peaceful right now…”

“Did you hear about the attack on Diagon Alley?” Claire said grimly.

“Yeah,” Harry sighed.

“Fortescue’s missing, Ollivander was captured, god only knows what else –“ Claire groaned.

“At least three wixen were killed, too, don’t forget,” Elena laughed humorlessly next to her.

“And fifteen muggles in the London street,” Claire grumbled.

“It’s bad, the war is bad outside the castle –“ Harry agreed.

“And inside,” I reminded grimly.

“Technically you were _outside_ the castle,” Hermione snorted. I stuck my tongue out at her.

“Fair enough, then we _should_ strike now, before it gets worse. The Death Eaters who attacked Maggie and Neville made it seem like there would be more of them… there was more to come,” Harry sighed.

Everyone began shouting, an uproar overtaking the room as people grew frantic and fearful and angry.

“Why Hogwarts?!”

“How could they _possibly_ get inside –“

“Shouldn’t there be a thousand magical safeguards?”

“What is Dumbledore going to use to protect us?”

“Have you seen him lately? He’s frail as all hell and his hand is all withered –“

“Hand?” I asked.

“Dumbledore’s hand is quite blackened,” Harry explained, “He won’t tell me what’s up with it.”

“Cursed magical object, probably,” Sam snorted

“Well _yes_ , but he wouldn’t say _what_ ,” Harry rolled his eyes.

“What are you two doing in there, anyway?” Ginny asked curiously.

“Learning about Voldemort’s past –“ Harry explained.

“Woah –“

“You should tell us –“

“What have you found out?”

“Is there an actual explanation for him being a dick?”

The last statement came out of quiet, even-tempered, _young_ Peter, and as such it made everyone burst into laughter, which _greatly_ relieved the tension from the meeting thus far.

“So far yes, surprisingly,” Harry chuckled.

“Well if they’re coming… if the Death Eaters are trying to attack Hogwarts,” Nadia was frowning, “We should really be preparing for that, shouldn’t we?”

“I don’t see why we can’t do both, again, like last year,” Hermione pointed out.

“Fair enough,” Nadia agreed, “But how do we start our in school rebellion?”

“Posters!” Ginny declared eagerly, grinning at Nadia, “Let’s make some posters! I’m sure the room can come up with materials.”

“No way in hell any of the professors will make us take them down after what we went through last year!” Ernie declared eagerly.

“Posters sound like an _excellent_ idea,” Hermione agreed firmly.

“Maybe some pamphlets? I dunno how to make those without killing our hands, though, we’d have to write a lot…” Collin frowned.

“There are some good spells, I know them, they’ll copy the words for us,” Hermione reassured kindly.

“We can work on that this week. Next week I’ll _actually_ teach you lot patronuses after our unfortunate half-year break,” Harry grinned. Everyone laughed in appreciation at that.

“You should decidedly tell us what you find out from Dumbledore, though,” Sam frowned, “We gotta know our enemy, man.”

“I will, if you guys don’t mind me talking while you work?”

Everyone shook their head; the room provided large sheets of muggle poster paper, markers, and other art supplies for us; everyone immediately grabbed some of the supplies and started to get to work as Harry explained the story of the Guants and Voldemort’s mum.

“ _Please_ , someone, make a poster about how love potions are essentially date rape drugs,” Valerie groaned, putting her hands over her eyes despite all the glitter on them, covering her face in the sparkly material.

“This is honestly gross,” Nadia agreed, grimacing heavily.

“I can’t believe all of Voldemort’s evilness can just be explained away by ‘oh, he was conceived without love.’ Does this mean that rape victims are also unable to produce loving children?” Ginny demanded angrily.

“I feel it was the magical cause of the lovelessness,” Hermione offered.

“That may be, but he can’t be the _only person_ conceived in this way…” Ginny grunted.

“Perhaps a combo, then, of both his conception, and how he was raised? Perhaps he was raised in such a fashion as to not have been properly taught how to love, or even fake it, so that his difficulty with doing so was compounded?” Ernie suggested.

“That could be it,” Harry admitted, “We’re going to look at his early childhood next.”

“That should be… fun,” Sam frowned heavily.

“None of this is even close enough to _fun_ to even joke about,” Harry grimaced, “But it has to be done.”

“Wonder when the whole ‘you’re the chosen one’ thing will be made public,” Valerie snorted sarcastically.

“The _Daily Prophet_ is already calling me that every damn day –“

“No but, no one here has sunk so low as to leak that it’s actually true. I’m wondering when they’ll find out,” Valerie rolled her eyes.

“Thank you guys for not telling them,” Harry frowned heavily.

“Why the hell would we do that?”

“Come on man, we’re you’re family –“

“You’ve been through enough –“

“My god, the _field day_ the Prophet would have with that –“

“Plus it’s just not helpful for anyone, puts much too much weight on your shoulders –“

“You don’t need all of wixen Britain breathing down your bloody neck!”

“Thanks again,” Harry reiterated, flushing heavily at all the praise and genuine care from this rag tag group of misfits that we had grown to call not just friends, not just a rebellion but, as had been said, a family.

We all settled to write posters about a myriad of topics – anti-muggleborn prejudice, prejudice against werewolves and other “half breeds,” sexism and racism in the Wizarding world, the trans policies, the nonbinary individual policies, the lack of recognition for people of non-heterosexuality and romanticism in the Wizarding community, the marginalization of magical “beasts,” the structures of power and classes that still remained from hundreds of years ago, and of course, the blatant disregard for the humanity of muggles.

I had painted an expert thing on my poster – and by expert, I meant crap. I was bad at art, and Neville was too, so we both made shitty posters together that matched in their terrible quality. Mine said _DO NOT LEAVE YOUR FELLOW HUMAN IN THE DUST_ , and I drew a muggle dying of some undescribed disease on a muggle hospital bed, or at least, I _hoped_ it was recognizable that it was a muggle on the bed – or any human on the bed – and I wrote cancer on a fake chart – I hoped that was readable – my god, I was bad at drawing –

Neville wrote on his _MY GENDER IS REAL, IT IS NEITHER MAN NOR WOMAN, IT IS VALID, AND FOR THAT I HAVE BEEN PERSCUTED._

Looking at it made me cry.

He was bad at drawing, so he didn’t attempt to draw anything on his, but his bad handwriting spoke wonders about his hand to writing implement anyway.

Most posters were of this quality, and people were already leaving the common room to go hang them up around the school, in strategic places. Everyone had done at least one, and some had done two – Sam had managed to crap out three of them, two on racism in the Wizarding world, one on the mistreatment of muggleborns, and had already left to take his fairly artsy creations to the corridors outside of the Great Hall.

Susan, who was probably on par with Sam in terms of art quality, had drawn a poster on how certain families had all the power in the Ministry – even highlighting which families did or did not in a handly little chart, which was easy to read and pleasing on the eyes, despite the not-so-pleasing information. It was amazing that she wrote this, as she fully acknowledged at multiple points in the poster that her _own_ family was one of those privileged – and still called, adamantly, for the nepotism and aristocracy to stop.

Hermione couldn’t draw either, same as Neville and I, and so was helping Collin and some others write pamphlets that they would distribute in the morrow. They were small pamphlets, like the kind I saw at the muggle doctor’s office on STDs and pregnancy – oh if only I had known – and were mostly images, but also a good number of words, each covering one of our major topics in detail and clarity.

Harry was wandering about the room, encouraging people on some things, and critiquing them on others. He looked more serious than I had ever seen him – it was obvious he wanted to get this right, and make an impact. I couldn’t have been prouder. He also sat down to draw a poster himself – he was halfway decent at the art of drawing things – and he managed to make one about werewolf marginalization.

“Lupin would be proud,” I said in praise, and Harry grinned eagerly at me.

“I can’t wait to show him. Hopefully he visits soon.

Elena, who was even more talented than Harry, but not as talented as Sam (yet), had drawn an image of a student getting bullied. It tugged at my heart, not as much as therapy with Shae had earlier, but enough to make me need to look away, quickly. Elena’s eyes met mine, and she smiled slightly, trying to reassure me, but I didn’t find this very comforting.

But by far, the most disturbing – and, I suppose, the most impacting – poster was Dean’s.

Dean had drawn a huge, gory poster, in the quality of art he was apt to do – being the best artist, even more so than Sam or Susan. It said on it

_WIXEN ARE_

_MURDERERS_

And the words were painted to look like blood, with small streaks of blood going down towards the bottom of the poster, and then all those streaks pooling up together to look like it was a puddle of blood forming from the words. It was gruesome, but I could see the light in his eyes. The light in his eyes that shown the pain from losing his sister, when there was a way he didn’t have to.

I had had no idea that he had lost a sister, but perhaps, it was because he couldn’t let himself feel it anymore.

I knew that acutely.

My mind flashed – briefly – to my parents. I remembered Shae trying to get me to say _anything_ in our session that morning, and me being unable to. I remembered the tug on my heart at the though of my mum and dad.

No wonder Dean was furious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the comments you guys! Please, though, if you have the time, leave me one :) I really want to hear what you guys think of what's happening - for example, if wixen really are doing anything wrong for not helping muggles with their health, that sort of thing. It's a complex issue that I really want to hear your thoughts on. That and, well, everything else too, of course! I have a lot of feelings about this story and discussing it with others keeps me writing XD So, tl;dr: PLEASE COMMENT!


	90. Chapter Eighty-Nine: September 21, 1996, Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "But I know, that you won't get another chance   
> So try to be cool, no you're not getting any younger 
> 
> And this, game, is more of the same   
> You're so close, yet so far away 
> 
> You're a total disgrace, another mistake   
> The only one left when the party has died   
> This is the end, so believe me my friend   
> You've got nothing to prove you're just wasting my time"   
> ~ Mike Diva, "BFD".

Chapter 89: September 21, 1996, Hogwarts

The posters were all over the school that morning, and our fellow students were talking about them particularly incessantly, and the talking was a much more mixed distribution than I had thought.

“I figured our room would have been defaced,” I remarked as I frowned at our completely normal door.

“People can surprise you, Mags, it’s a strange world we live in,” Neville shrugged.

“With our world the way it is? With the ways wixen treat each other and muggles? Nah, they just don’t know where we live,” I muttered darkly.

“You gotta have more faith than that, Mags,” Neville sighed.

“I really don’t. Not after last year,” I grumbled as we sat down for a very late breakfast – honestly it was lunch for everyone else, but that night he had comforted me a little _too_ much after the events of the day. And by too much, I mean _so_ much and yet at the same time not enough at all.

I could feel my cheeks flush just from thinking about it as I sat down at the table, fidgeting somewhat. Neville looked over at me curiously.

“Nothin,” I flushed heavily and he rolled his eyes, gently rubbing my shoulder with his thumb.

“Get some work done during the day today, you two,” Hermione scolded. I rolled my eyes and glared at her.

“And since _when_ do you get to boss me around?” I grunted angrily.

“Since you decided to lead a rebellion. Those pamphlets Collin and I made? All advertised for another DA meeting tonight. It’ll be in the Great Hall. I went up and cleared it with McGonagall this morning,” Hermione explained brusquely.

“Hermione, I had a trying day yesterday, I’m _tired_ ,” I grumbled.

“Then you should have gotten more sleep,” she retorted.

“Not _my_ fault I didn’t!” I protested.

“Uh huh? What were you doing then?” Hermione rolled her eyes.

“I was merely helping Maggie to relax,” Neville responded cheekily, grinning lopsidedly.

I flushed heavily at the number of times Neville had made me explode that evening.

Hermione looked back and forth between Neville smiling like an idiot, and me blushing like a schoolgirl. She shook her head in bemusement and raised the _Daily Prophet_ up to her face.

“I’ll never understand sexuals,” she muttered under her breath.

I laughed weakly, flushing even more madly, and Neville chuckled eagerly under his breath. I flicked him in bemusement, sticking my tongue out at him lovingly.

“Stop,” Hermione groaned in annoyance, but Neville pulled me in for a long kiss anyway, perhaps because of it.

“You two are ridiculous,” Harry grunted as he sat down to the table.

“We know,” Neville laughed, burying his face in my hair. I giggled and buried myself into his arms as a result.

“We have a serious day today,” Hermione reminded sternly, “So I suppose, instead of doing homework, I must _insist_ that you take care of _that_.”

“You were in love once,” I pointed out, sticking my tongue out at her.

“Yes,” Hermione admitted, looking down at her plate, “Once.”

The phrasing was more than concerning, but there was little I could do to pursue the issue with Harry present. I turned back to Neville, who looked equally troubled – no, he looked less troubled than I. More… sad.

 _He doesn’t know that Harry loves her_.

I pursed my lips together tightly. He just thought Hermione was reasonably resigning herself to the inevitable.

I knew that she was giving up hope on something she should not give up hope on.

I couldn’t stand to look at how resigned she was, or how sad Neville was. I turned back to my food and scarfed it down into my mouth, waiting quietly for Harry to leave. He was chatting happily with Hermione, and got up to leave quite a while after I had shoved my face in my food. I immediately followed after him, tripping slightly over my own feet as I scurried behind him and into the Entrance Hall.

“Harry!” I shouted. He turned around and frowned at me.

“I thought you were going to spend the day shagging Neville?” he asked, rolling his eyes at me. I flushed heavily again, but I couldn’t ignored him.

“Look, we’re not _shagging_ , not in the traditional sense, and anyway, I just wanted to talk to you for a minute –“

“You’re _not_ shagging? Are you really trying to claim that?” Harry frowned sharply.

“What’s it to you anyway?” I asked defensively, feeling red-hot anger bubble in the pit of my stomach. I clenched my fists tightly at my sides to try and calm myself down.

“I don’t – no, I don’t care,” Harry admitted, “I mean… look it’s not exactly something I need to know gory details about. You’re my _sister_.”

“That’s fair,” I admitted, “But it’s not like we’re _trying_ to tell you gory details. It just… I don’t know… comes out.”

“You two can’t hope but act like that around each other, I know,” Harry acknowledged, “It’s just… it’s so strange for me…”

This was _not at all_ where I had wanted the conversation to go.

“What d’you mean?” I frowned.

“Maggie, we were a dynamic duo,” Harry sighed, “For a long time. We’re second cousins, but we always acted like twins. I…” he swallowed heavily, looking hesitant.

“You?” I asked.

“I feel kind of abandoned,” Harry admitted. I looked at him in shock, feeling my eyes widen in amazement.

“I… Harry…” I frowned.

“I know I have no _real_ claim to your time, and I mean, it’s horrifically selfish of me to wish we could hang out as much as we did when we were kids…”

“It’s not selfish, I’m your sister, I know that,” I sighed, “All I can say is that it doesn’t help that we don’t sleep in the Common Room anymore.”

“And I’d _never_ ask you two to sleep apart,” Harry interjected quickly, “ _Never_.”

“The only other thing I can say is that this kind of happens when you age, you know?” I sighed even more, guilt replacing the anger in my stomach, “You grow up, and you become more independent… and sometimes that leads to finding someone to partner up with… who takes up your time…”

“Yeah, I know that, logically,” Harry admitted, “It’s just hard for me when I don’t have a partner and, you know, have a basic urge to have one.”

 _Oh good_.

“There’s an _extremely_ simple answer to that,” I snorted, rolling my eyes.

“It’s not that simple,” Harry shook his head furiously.

“Harry, who have you been spending all your time with in the wake of my disappearing off to lovebird land with Neville?” I demanded, raising my eyebrows at him.

“Hermione,” Harry scowled, “Look, it’s not about whether or not we’d make a good couple – of _course_ we would –“

“Are you still _on_ about that nonsense?” I groaned.

“I don’t want to put her into more danger!”

“She’s already in the maximum amount of danger she could be in!” I reminded.

“No, she’s not! It’s one thing to be one of my best mates, it’s another thing to be my bloody _girlfriend_!” Harry hissed.

“Harry, Neville is one of your best mates and he nearly died last year. The fact remains that the three of us are _equal_ to you in terms of getting targeted,” I shook my head furiously, “I’m your sister. Neville’s your best friend and _my_ partner. Hermione is also one of your best friends and let’s fucking _face_ it, there have been rumors circulating about you both for years… we’re all going to be targeted just as much as you as it is, and then on top of it, we _all_ have an equal hand in leading this resistance movement… you might be a figurehead, but so are we… you’re not protecting her by doing this.”

Harry shook his head in stubborn refusal.

“You’re not doing her any favors!” I hissed furiously, “You’re just breaking her heart and denying yourselves something that could help you through what’s coming for us! Fuck, you’re denying yourself something that you might regret not having forever! What will you do if she dies and you never told her huh? Or how do you think she’ll feel if you die and you two never –“ I swallowed heavily and clenched my fist tightly, “You’re being _absolutely ridiculous_.”

“We don’t have time to think about any of that in the middle of a war –“

“If the entire world went on pause just because of a war, people wouldn’t have anything to fight for!” I insisted, “Look, this isn’t some – this isn’t a quick thing, okay? This war has been happening all our lives and it’s going to go on for a major chunk of the rest of them, probably. We have a long way to go. And honestly, what do you think the odds are that _Hermione fucking Granger_ will get _distracted_ from _fixing the Wizarding World_ because you two are snogging?”

“I…” Harry frowned at me, “She got distracted when she was with Fred.”

“Not for long, and honestly, we are in the thick of it now. She’s more mature, and the situation is more dire,” I shook my head furiously, “She won’t get distracted, and neither will you.”

Harry pursed his lips at me, but didn’t say anything. He simply walked to wherever he had been going. I watched him go and sighed in pure annoyance, crossing my arms in front of my chest and glowering in my spot.

“Mags?”

I turned around and smiled at Neville as much as I could, him walking up to me and frowning.

“What’s wrong?” he asked immediately. I should never try to get anything past him.

“Nothing,” I answered immediately. He frowned greatly at me and I groaned internally.

“Harry is being moody,” I explained honestly, praying that he wouldn’t push the issue more.

“And I take it he’s sworn you to secrecy?” Neville asked, looking apologetic.

“Yeah,” I sighed with relief, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, I just might demand him to tell me what’s wrong eventually,” Neville admitted, “If this goes on long enough.”

“That’s fair, seriously,” I agreed, “Just not for a little while.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t,” Neville reassured, gently reaching out to hold my arm, “So what do you want to do before the meeting tonight?”

“Hermione has a point in that we have schoolwork,” I pointed out, smirking at him. He grinned back at me, and I couldn’t help but smile at his expression, loving the way his eyes lit up with mirth and joy.

“Or, we could follow Hermione’s _other_ advice,” he grinned.

“We could,” I admitted, laughing at his facial expression, “Well, we’ll decide when we get back to the room.”

“Sounds good,” Neville laughed, gripping my hand lovingly in his and dragging me up the stairs. He was so eager that I couldn’t help but laugh with him, jogging slightly behind him as we entered the room and closed the door behind us. He then turned and pulled me in for a long kiss, holding to my face with both of his hands and laughing, still, into my mouth. I laughed still, too, and we were laughing together as we fell onto the bed, on our sides, still kissing each other and holding each other and laughing. Neville then pulled me closer to him by wrapping his arms around my waist, pressing me tightly against his body, making me shiver madly in his arms with something that decidedly was not cold.

 _How nice it would be to feel all of him_ , I thought idly as he traced kisses up into my hairline.

The thought of it made me swallow and shift somewhat awkwardly next to him, but I ignored it. I knew I wasn’t ready yet, and that was just a side effect of it.

Sometimes I still had nightmares about being trapped underneath the great douchebag.

I focused instead on the softness of Neville’s lips, and how even when I didn’t say anything when I squirmed awkwardly, he knew to move back a bit, now just massaging my lips with his and softly caressing my arms with his fingertips. I sighed into his lips and ran my fingers eagerly through his hair, humming softly with bliss and joy at his every touch.

Suddenly, a fuzzy, rounded snout poked between us. I squeaked in surprise and jumped back to look as Blue hopped into our bed, sitting in between us and looking back and forth at us in what could only have been irritation. Her feathers were ruffled somewhat and she sat there quite angrily, her neck scrunched against her body and her wings fluttering somewhat with irritation. Her blue crest feathers were even puffed up on her head.

“I sense Blue is frustrated with us,” I giggled.

“In her defense, we were up… pretty much all of last night,” Neville chuckled, reaching out to scritchle Blue. She accepted the affection, but begrudgingly – her posture was still that of a glowering dinosaur, and her every movement suggested that her primary emotion was _this doesn’t let you off the hook._

I leaned over, feeling like testing it, to kiss Neville on the ear. She hissed somewhat as I leaned in to do so, and then when my lips actually made contact, she moved forward and sat directly in my lap.

“Yup, she definitely wants us to keep it in our pants,” I laughed, reaching to scratch her myself now, Neville resuming his doing so.

“Do you think we kept her up too long?” I asked Neville seriously, worrying for the small animal.

“I think she’s okay,” Neville reassured, smiling at me. I gently whacked him in the arm and he giggled, lying back against the bed.

“How do you think today will go?” he asked seriously after a while, me just sitting there and patting Blue lovingly. I looked at him for a while, frowning as we stared at each other.

“I honestly have no idea,” I admitted softly, running a hand through my hair.

“On the one hand, they didn’t join us last year. Why would they join us this year?” Neville mused, staring up at the ceiling of our room now, “On the other hand, Umbridge discriminated against people at school who weren’t in the D.A. That could have changed some things.”

“I’d be surprised if it _hadn’t_ changed some things,” I admitted, “People can’t ignore that level of awful.”

“But will they be spurred into action? That’s the real question,” Neville shook his head, his hair flopping every which way, “It takes a lot to get people to act, and regardless of how bad it was for everyone last year, it was objectively _worse_ for the people who took action.”

“That’s true, which is why it could go either way,” I sighed, “I just hope they won’t be there to ridicule us.”

“I doubt it,” Neville sat up, looking straight ahead at the wall opposite us, “If there’s one thing we can probably count on, it’s people not ridiculing us for being _right_.”

I laughed derisively, “I wouldn’t be so sure.”

“I don’t think they’ll make fun,” Neville shook his head, “I don’t think, after what Umbridge did, that’ll happen. I think they might _argue_ , but those are two completely different things.”

“That’s true,” I admitted, wringing my wrists, “I just… I dunno. I wish Hermione had warned us she was going to do this.”

“I do too,” Neville agreed softly, wrapping his arms around my shoulders and pressing his nose into my cheek, “But we’ll get through it.”

“Thanks Nev,” I smiled at him, turning my face to press my nose into his. We sat there like that for a while, our noses pressed together and our foreheads too, Blue just sitting in between us and happily nestling with us. I closed my eyes after a little while, just enjoying feeling him next to me, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and sitting with joy in his arms.

“Mags?” he whispered after a while, so softly I almost felt I wasn’t supposed to hear him.

“Yeah?” I responded, opening my eyes and looking at him intently.

“I love you,” he said simply, and the words still filled me with joy, but the way and intensity with which he said them this time just overwhelmed me. I gently reached to hold his face in my hands and I looked back at him, staring into his eyes for a long time.

“I love you, Nev,” I responded, not kissing him, just holding him close to me as though we were going to kiss. He smiled, and rested his cheek against mine for a long time, now just sitting there and touching each other and not saying a word. We didn’t really need to, anyway. I could feel his heartbeat through his skin, and the ridges of his fingerprints as he stroked my face, and the tickle of his curly brown hair against my face, and the slight prickle of the shortest of hairs on his chin as it rubbed against mine. Everything was him; he was my whole world, and that was all I needed.

“What time is it?” he whispered after a while. I opened my eyes and looked down at my watch; it was already the afternoon.

“Three,” I answered calmly. This was hardly surprising, given how late we had woken up. Blue, in between us, appeared to be napping.

“I guess we _did_ keep her up all night,” I lamented, watching as her face, tucked underneath her wing, looked so peaceful and content.

“Have you thought about making her some family members?” Neville asked, reaching out to gently stroke my hair in its messy ponytail.

“I have,” I admitted, “I haven’t been doing my transfiguration work with McGonagall lately.”

“Why not?” Neville asked in surprise, frowning at me.

“Elementalism has taken over my life?” I offered, sighing, “I can’t get the hang of it.”

“You will,” Neville reassured, now rubbing my arm gently.

“Easy for you to say, you’ve practically mastered it already,” I grunted in annoyance.

“Now that’s just not true,” Neville protested, frowning at me.

“You are _amazingly_ good at it _naturally_ and that is wonderful, that’s never happened to you before, but it means that you have no idea how hard it is for me,” I explained calmly.

“Well I can try and help you if you want,” Neville offered, looking at me in extreme concern. I sighed and reached to peck him softly on the lips.

“You can try, but I don’t know how much you’ll be able to help. Each element is manipulated differently,” I reminded him.

“Well, still. We’ll work on it tomorrow, I promise,” Neville nodded fervently. I smiled at him again and kissed him a little more, massaging his lips with me and enjoying the feel of them. Blue did not stir between us, now in a heavy sleep.

“We should maybe actually work on some homework,” I offered, sighing with defeat, “Hermione has a point.”

“Bloody hell,” Neville groaned, but he was already in the process of pulling out his books, and we both settled together on the bed to work on our essays and reading, frowning and looking over the material and muttering to each other, since we had practically identical schedules. In less than a month of schoolwork, I was already regretting taking N.E.W.T. level Charms. Neville was, similarly, regretting Transfiguration.

“We all make mistakes in life,” I grunted in annoyance after an hour of staring at the different spells.

“We just made some pretty big ones,” Neville grumbled, his hand cramping up from all of the note taking so much that he was constantly shaking it out.

I took some more notes on _Aguamenti_ , grumbling to myself on how little I actually cared about continuing with my Charms work, when Neville interrupted our silence again.

“When’s the meeting?”

I pulled out a pamphlet; it said the meeting was at eight.

“What time is it now?”

“Seven…”

“We should probably go down and get some dinner. I’m sure they’re cleaning up for it,” Neville lamented.

“Well at least we got _some_ work done,” I grumbled in annoyance.

“Hey, it’s better than the constant, looming threat of death over our heads,” Neville joked, grinning cheekily at me. I stuck my tongue out at him but laughed as well, unable to contain myself at his expression of glee. As we left, Blue stirred from her sleep and followed us; I happily patted her on the head as she did so, enjoying her newfound energy and curiosity.

As we walked through the corridors, I saw a taller man in long robes with mousey brown hair. I frowned in surprise, and Neville next to me did the same.

“Professor Lupin?” I called, wondering if perhaps it was someone who just looked the same from behind. Sure enough, the man turned around, and it was Lupin; he looked flustered and rushed, which was more than confusing.

“Oh, hello Maggie, Neville,” he greeted, his eyes flickering back and forth along the corridor.

“What’s, er, what’s up?” Neville asked, looking hesitant.

“I was just here to… er… give Dumbledore a report,” Lupin explained in a rush, obviously trying to calm himself down.

“Here? Not at Headquarters?” I asked, frowning at him.

“Dumbledore does not always have time to make it down to Headquarters,” Lupin answered defensively, standing up a little straighter.

“He has time to make it sometimes, we know he disappears on a regular basis,” Neville explained.

“Yes, well, he – er – he couldn’t today,” Lupin stated firmly.

“So what were you reporting on?” I asked, folding my arms in front of my chest again.

“Werewolf attacks in the south,” Lupin answered immediately, “They’re on the rise. Muggles are getting heavily targeted by Fenrir Greyback –“

“Who the what?” I asked in confusion.

“A werewolf. He routinely changes children,” Lupin scowled, “I was one of those children… he’s been recruited by Voldemort, and is wreaking havoc.”

I shivered in surprise, horror overcoming me from my head to my foot.

“Why would they be – that’s a stupid question,” Neville shook his head in bemusement, “How are the muggles not noticing?”

“Probably because of how bad things are going everywhere,” Lupin explained, “Dementors are increasing in numbers. There’s quite a crowd of them in Wales.”

“How could they be _increasing_? How do Dementors… breed?” I asked immediately.

“The more darkness, depression, despair, and fear there is in a place, the more dementors there are,” Lupin explained simply.

“ _That_ must be an interesting biological system,” Neville muttered idly, clearly trying to distract from what an increase in Dementors actually _meant_.

“And we’re fairly certain that the giants have been recruited up to the northern shores of Scotland, the islands and things,” Lupin continued, frowning heavily.

“What about the Death Eaters themselves?” I demanded, shaking a little with horror at the chaos that was being explained to me.

Lupin frowned at us, clearly considering his words. Neville watched him eagerly, his eyes lit up somewhat as he did so. I simply frowned, needing to know, but not knowing if I wanted to. Blue looked back and forth between us all in confusion.

“They’ve been… on the move,” Lupin answered simply, “We’re tracking their movements. No major activity yet.”

“Nothing after their attack on us?” Neville asked sharply.

“Nothing,” Lupin admitted, “We think they retreated. They were badly hurt after that.”

“So were we,” I reminded, rolling my eyes.

“Exactly,” Lupin smirked, “So now they’re nursing their wounds. But they’ll be back. We’re fairly certain of that.”

“Herin is too,” I agreed softly.

“She’s where we got our intel,” Lupin admitted, “Dumbledore has no idea what they could be after in the castle so badly.”

“Harry?” Neville offered.

“Probably not,” Lupin shook his head, “If they were really after Harry, they would have attacked over the summer. No, there’s something that they want inside the castle… something they didn’t realize they wanted… and now they’re going to attack when the school is full, so that we all are distracted trying to protect the students, while they swoop in to acquire it…”

“Well then maybe the students should protect themselves,” Neville offered dryly.

Lupin looked back and forth between us critically.

“Not the young ones,” he insisted softly.

“We had to,” I snapped, wrapping my arms more firmly around my chest.

“You shouldn’t have had to,” Lupin explained, “You were children.”

“I never was a child,” Neville muttered darkly. Lupin watched us for a long time.

“No, you weren’t,” he admitted, “Or if either of you were, it was before you stepped foot on the train. But that is not a reality everyone should have to live with.”

“It’s not about whether or not they _should_ have to live with it,” I shook my head, “It’s about reality. We’re in the middle of a war, and they can’t avoid it any more than we could… if they can protect themselves, well, we ensure that they might live to see a world where they don’t have to anymore…”

“You’re right,” Lupin admitted, “But no one is going to train children for war.”

“That’s funny,” Neville snorted, “Because you already did.”

Lupin looked shocked at his words, but Neville had a point. Secretly, all the professors had been preparing us for this day from day one – all the adults in our lives.

“Sorry,” Neville apologized, “I just don’t see the point in sheltering anyone. If the Death Eaters are going to attack us, we _all_ have to prepare.”

“You’re right,” Lupin agreed quietly, “It’s just startling to think of.”

“Hey, you were raised to fight too,” I pointed out, “This isn’t a surprising situation.”

“When I was a child, I had hoped that my children wouldn’t have to,” Lupin shook his head slowly.

“Shit happens,” I reassured calmly, “It’s not your fault.”

“You guys did everything you could,” Neville agreed.

“And we’ll fight too, now,” I finished.

Lupin sighed again, looking dejected.

“I best be going,” he said calmly, “I will see you both around.” He turned and walked through the corridors, but not in the direction of Dumbledore’s office _or_ the Entrance Hall; I turned to Neville in confusion. He shrugged wordlessly at me.

“Maybe he got distracted. Or maybe he wants to talk to Sirius,” Neville offered.

“Just seems odd. He didn’t even hesitate… it was as though that was where h was going in the first place,” I frowned.

“Well, it’s not our place,” Neville stated firmly, “Come on, we’re running late.”

We walked down into the Great Hall and saw all the food disappearing off of the tables; my stomach growled loudly, almost as though to chastise me.

“What were you two _doing_ all afternoon?” Harry demanded from the front of the hall, looking nervous and pacing back and forth.

“Studying, honestly,” Neville admitted, “Lost track of time. Trying to make sense of Charms and Transfiguration.”

“Fair enough,” Hermione sighed, “Well, best go to the kitchens quickly and grab something.”

“No its fine,” Neville shook his head, “it’s almost time, and at any rate, I think I’m too nervous to eat.”

“It’ll be fine,” Hermione reassured, but she also looked fairly ill, her hair even more bushy than usual probably from the stress. Harry was pacing, still; he was practically wearing a hole into the floor. This would have been a remarkable feat, as the floor was made of stone.

“Oh, completely unrelated, we ran into Lupin on the way here –“ Neville began, and Harry and Hermione listened to him eagerly. I simply went and sat on the actual staff table, perching there nervously. Blue came up to sit next to me, rubbing her body against me to try and calm me down. I instinctually patted her head with my hand and scratched behind her crest, staring out into space and trying to not overanalyze the upcoming situation.

The door to the Great Hall opened and people began trickling in – luckily, they were all current D.A. members. Dean walked up to stand next to me at the front, nodding slightly. His face was etched with tiredness and anger; I could only imagine how little he had slept last night. Seamus stayed back from him, looking dejected and terrified. Nadia soon joined us, her face also pulled into a determined expression. Sam and Kat and Peter and Elena and Claire all joined us, standing up at the staff table and looking out at the Great Hall. Ron, Luna, and Ginny finally joined us as well, talking to Hermione and Harry in hushed tones as the rest of the D.A. filled up the front of the Hall.

After that, though, non-D.A. students started piling up. People I had never talked to with names I hardly knew. I only, sort of, recognized their faces; many of them were fresh first years, looking scared but curious as to what was going on. Older students were numerous too; some of them had scars on their faces and hands, and I could only imagine what Umbridge had done to them.

I looked down at my feet swinging underneath me as I sat on the table; I didn’t want to look at their faces. Just the thought made my fists clench.

 _Why didn’t you help us last year_?

When my watch read 8, I looked up at the hall again. They hadn’t separated out by house, but it was pretty easy to see the distribution. Almost every Gryffindor was there; most of the Hufflepuffs; about half of the Ravenclaws; and a fairly decent but still small number of Slytherins. Ty were all mixing about and muttering, looking up at the front table in curiosity and mixed levels of enthusiasm. I swallowed heavily and looked over at Neville to try and clam myself down.

All these people, and last year they had just hung about and done nothing.

“Well, er,” Hermione began, but she looked extremely nervous. At seeing that there were literally two hundred students in the Great Hall, all the D.A. members came to join us at the front. It was good to be reminded we were not alone.

“You are all here because you saw our posters and pamphlets today,” Harry began, stepping out and looking determined at Hermione’s general nervousness. Hermione looked at him in utter gratitude.

A general murmuring of agreement went out among the students, but no one outright said anything. I frowned heavily at the general silence around me.

“And you’re here because of what we went through at the hands of the great Toad last year,” Ernie stepped in, walking up to stand next to Harry with his arms folded across his chest.

The murmuring grew louder; students began growling and shouting angrily in agreement. I watched the proceedings with something akin to shock.

“We all witnessed first hand the true nature of the Ministry,” Nadia agreed, walking up to stand with Ernie, “And we all suffered through it, or at least, watched a friend suffer through it. That’s why so many of you are here today. You all know the true cause of the pain and suffering we have received – the pain and suffering that feeds Voldemort.”

A murmur of fear at the name went up through the students. I scowled. It was just a name.

“If you did not witness it, you are a first year, and you have heard tell of what happened – you have come to a school of broken people, and you don’t know where you fit in,” Dean continued, now standing with the others. I was relieved. It _did_ make sense for them to be talking, rather than us. Harry stepped back and stood with Hermione again, looking relieved himself.

“So then why gather us all here?” a fourth year Hufflepuff asked from the front of the crowd.

“Because to fix this broken system, we need more than just us,” Ernie answered honestly.

“We need you,” Nadia agreed.

“What are you suggesting?” a fifth year Ravenclaw asked shrewdly, her curly black hair hanging over her face heavily.

“We spread the word. We tell the world what the Ministry has done – what the Ministry _continues_ to do – and we demand change,” Dean explained simply, a glint of anger in his eyes.

“Because _that_ will work,” the Ravenclaw replied skeptically, and a murmur of agreement with her went up throughout the hall.

“What choice do we have?” Dean demanded.

“Slow change. Wait for us to leave here and then go to the Ministry and try to fix it,” the Ravenclaw responded calmly.

“That doesn’t work,” Susan murmured, her soft voice startlingly out of place in the front of the room.

“So many of us haven’t been working towards one goal, though,” the Ravenclaw insisted.

“We’d need to have literally generations of students overtake the Ministry,” she shook her head, biting her lower lip and looking terrified, wringing her wrists furiously, “The older people, they will always be in charge. They will always control our laws and our rules and our institutions. Not even the class that graduated last year would fully be on board with this – not even you are. That is gradual, slow change, that we cannot afford to wait for.”

“You-Know-Who is already here,” the Ravenclaw snapped, “Shouldn’t we focus on that?”

“If we, _as a culture_ , stand up and say that Voldemort has no place among us, then he won’t be able to gain a foothold,” Hermione finally stood up, looking at the Ravenclaw angrily, “The issue last time was that people were silent – they let him grow powerful by only having the people who agreed with him speak up.”

“If we have a rebellion, and it succeeds, it would create a power vacuum,” the Ravenclaw pointed out, “and You-Know-Who and his followers could swoop in to fill it.”

“Or we could put some of our own people in there,” I muttered darkly. The D.A. looked at me in surprise – I usually wasn’t the one to speak up.

“What are the odds that that would succeed? Can you tell me of _any_ successful major revolutions in history? Radical ones? I’m not talking of the American Revolution. I’m talking about those that truly sought real and lasting change,” the Ravenclaw sneered. I clenched my fists at my sides.

“We might fail. But if we don’t even try, we’ve already failed,” I snapped.

“The Ministry is unstable as it is,” Susan explained calmly, tucking her hair behind her ear, “It’s unstable, and the Minister is on shaky ground. Most of the Ministry is furious that she’s undoing all the anti-Dumbledore measures from last year. And those that aren’t are silenced by the majority.”

“So you’re saying it’s hopeless,” the Ravenclaw shouted, and everyone began shouting with her. It was overwhelming, and I was _so close_ to shifting to shut them all up.

“It is _not_ hopeless,” Susan responded, but she was too quiet to be heard above the crowd.

“It is _not hopeless_ ,” Harry shouted for her, and she looked at him with gratitude. Everyone quieted, and Harry stepped back for Susan to continue.

“It is not hopeless if we reach out and talk to other people. If we extend to the greater Wixen community,” Susan continued softly, “We didn’t have to explain anything to you all. You saw our posters. You lived through last year, or you heard about last year from those who did live through it. You all know what happened, and you’re all angry. But do they? Besides your parents? Do your parents even know? I know I didn’t tell my Aunt all the details. I know that I kept it from her. We can’t do that anymore.”

The Ravenclaw, and everyone else, was dead quiet.

“We are not advocating for a violent coup. We’re saying that we must spread the word. We must educate our world and tell them what has been done and how it is wrong,” Susan continued, shifting awkwardly in her spot, “And we must demand immediate change, within the system we have. We must show Voldemort that he is not in the majority.”

“And what if he is?” a Slytherin asked from the back of the room, looking at us critically.

“Then we find all the people who do not agree with him, and we gather together, and we fight,” Hermione said calmly, “Because we have no other choice.”

“Well, we do,” I stated shrewdly. Hermione looked at me in shock – everyone looked at me in shock.

“We could die,” I rolled my eyes, clenching and unclenching my fists at my sides.

The hall was eerily quiet. No one knew what to say to that.

“She’s right,” Ernie agreed, filling the silence, “Our choices are tell people everything – every law, every precedent, every torture, every hurt – and either show Voldemort he is _alone_ , or gather those who are against him to fight – or – or we’ve already lost. We saw what happens when we don’t _all work together_ last year. Do any of us truly want to repeat it now?”

A murmur of agreement went up throughout the hall.

“Can… can you explain more, please?” a timid, quiet first year Gryffindor asked in the middle of the hall, standing next to one of the members of Ginny’s year, practically hiding behind them, “I think some of us are still… unclear.”

Ernie looked exhausted. Everyone older than first year looked exhausted. There was a long, exhausted silence, as no one had the energy to answer the first year’s question, everyone too tired to actually think about what had happened to us. The silence went on much too long. Kat next to me shifted and looked at me in fear and hopelessness. Neville was flushing and staring at his hands, which were shaking. Sam and I exchanged a long look, one that conveyed a similar emotion of tiredness, and a need to move on from the horrors of last year. In his eyes I could see what probably was the need to repress a memory of me lying, nearly dead, on the ground. In mine, I hoped he could see my need to repress the memory of lying, nearly dead, on the ground.

The silence was louder than any protests that had occurred that evening.

Peter, finally, stepped forward then, his curly blonde hair all over his tired and weary face. He was only thirteen, but he looked much older – he looked like he should have been my age, or at least Ginny’s. Come to think of it, so did Kat, Elena, and Claire. They all looked much too old. Much too tired. Had I looked like that my third year?

He began explaining every detail of what happened to everyone at Hogwarts – including the Twelve – to the students, in gory, painful detail. I looked over at Ernie, who was steadfastly staring at his shoes. At some details, Ernie visibly flinched.

Then again, so did I.

“The truth is, you are all here because you know that you can’t just stand by idly and let Voldemort – please do not flinch at his name, his name is a word, same as any other, and by fearing it you’re giving him power that he does not deserve –“ Peter snapped, which was something I appreciated so much I wanted to hug him, “You cannot just stand idly by and let Voldemort take over our world. We nearly lost last time, when many of us weren’t even thoughts in the minds of our parents – we cannot lose again. We cannot leave the fighting with him to those who have already sacrificed so much,” he looked over at me and my three closest friends, and Neville flushed heavily and looked at his shoes. I simply steadily met Peter’s gaze.

“Standing idly by lead Umbridge to believe that she could control us, and she nearly succeeded. Standing idly by will let the Ministry to believe that Minister Bones is in the minority, and all Umbridge did wrong was to be too harsh,” Peter shook his head in bemusement, “Too violent, too severe, to _obvious_. If we do nothing, then they simply do what she did, but quieter, softer, and more subtle – until suddenly we are without rights, without help, without hope.”

Everyone was hanging on his every word; it was as though he could hypnotize the world with his voice and the poetry of his words. _I_ was entranced, and I had gone in thinking I did not need to hear what he was saying, for I already knew and agreed to it.

“So what we ask from all of you is your support, and your assistance. Your understanding that we cannot do this alone, and that no one may abstain from our world, and from taking responsibility for it,” Peter finished, looking braver, “You can be as involved as much as you want or as much as you can be, but, just know, the more people we have with us, the more chance we have that the horrors of last year aren’t repeated.”

“And if we should create a power vacuum, and You-Know-Who should fill it?” the Ravenclaw from before demanded.

“Then we all know who is on our side, and who we can trust, and we all work together to fight him,” Peter responded simply.

A murmuring of agreement went up throughout the hall. Hermione scurried forward with the D.A. list, which was much longer than before – she must have added paper to it. I knew it was important they all sign it – after all, if they betrayed us after having signed it, we would know immediately.

As almost everyone in the hall lined up to sign the piece of parchment, and those who initially did not want to felt pressured to by the long line forming around them, I looked over at Ernie in amazement. He just gave me a sad smile, and I realized that I never would understand the horrors the student body had gone through that past year.

I found myself feeling thankful, but then, feeling horrified with myself for being so.

That horrible thing had lead to us having a fighting chance.

But I still shouldn’t wish for it to have happened.

I got up immediately and hugged Ernie. He looked at me in surprise, his face etched with shock.

“What the –“

“I had a pretty ugly thought,” I muttered, pulling back from the hug. I didn’t hug people often, at least, people who weren’t my three best friends or my sister or Ginny. It felt weird, but good.

“Well you clearly didn’t mean it,” Ernie reassured.

“I just thought that it was good all that horrific stuff happened, because, well, we barely had to persuade anyone,” I admitted in a mutter.

“That’s… well, that’s not a pretty thought, but it is a silver lining of what happened,” Ernie whispered, but his face was white, probably with remembering.

“And I knew it wasn’t a good thing to think, so I –“

“It’s okay, it’s good to think positively,” Ernie nodded firmly.

I looked at him for a while as the students trickled forward to sign the parchment. Neville was deep in conversation with Sam; Hermione with Ginny; Harry with Peter. Nadia was watching the D.A. parchment signing like an eagle, her eyes flashing and critically examining each and every single person who approached the paper. She would not let anyone she knew to be against us sign that sheet; her over-protectiveness was palpable in the air.

“How’s therapy going for you?” I finally asked him.

“Eh,” he responded, still looking rather sick, “I don’t like talking to a stranger about what happened.”

“I’m having the opposite problem,” I admitted softly, “She’s been my friend for a while. I don’t want to burden her.”

“Well then I guess we’re both stupid,” Ernie shrugged.

I waited a while, feeling nervous.

“Do you… want to talk to me about it?” I asked him quietly. He studied me for a while, his face turning from white with horrific memories to pensive and hesitant.

“Not yet, but… maybe…” he offered softly. I nodded, dropping it at that. I understood what it was to not want to tell someone.

“This is going to be rather difficult to manage,” Kat suddenly said behind me. I turned to look at her and I nodded in agreement, frowning somewhat.

“I think we can do it,” Ernie piped up, clearly eager to stop thinking about the past.

“So do I,” Kat frowned, “But not without difficulties.”

“Well, just keep me from killing everyone, and I’ll call it a success,” I joked. Kat rolled her eyes at me and I grinned back at her. Her long, dark hair was braided and draped down her back; her skin, so close in shade to mine but not quite as red, more olive, was littered in scars from burns as well as cuts.

It was as though she had been on fire herself.

“Did you burn yourself when you set the trans list on fire?” I asked her curiously. She snorted in amusement.

“More like Umbridge set _me_ on fire for having burned the list,” Kat laughed. I looked at her in shock.

“Oh yeah, we gloss over that for a reason,” Kat paused, “Peter has nightmares about it apparently. She did it in front of quite a few D.A. members.”

“We gloss over a few things for you guys. Don’t want you to feel too guilty,” Ernie explained quietly.

“I… I don’t feel guilty so much as horrified,” I admitted.

“That’s good,” Ernie agreed, “Use that.”

“I don’t need _more_ anger,” I laughed.

“Not anger, determination,” Ernie paused, “You’re going to need a level head moving forward.

I thought about how useless I had been today.

“Yeah,” I agreed softly as Neville walked up to me and kissed the top of my head. As the line of people signing the sheet trickled forward, I knew just how much I needed to calm myself down.

Hopefully the people around me could keep me calm out of necessity.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM BACK! Kind of. I'm still struggling with some writer's block and my semester is wrapping up, so I have to focus on school this week, but, soon I'll be on break, which is good. As for the writer's block I just gotta force myself through it. I have everything plotted out but getting from plot point to plot point for this particular section of book six is difficult. 
> 
> Anyways, please   
> A) Check out the ficlets I posted a while back of other moments in the CE universe, and please comment   
> and B) PLEASE COMMENT ON THIS I live off of comments they are my food. As one tumblr post said, fanfiction writers literally want book reports for comments. Don't be embarrassed to go all out. Well thought out comments LITERALLY inspire me to write more. 
> 
> Thanks!


	91. Chapter Ninety: September 22-23, 1996, Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Late at night I could hear the crying   
> I hear it all, trying to fall asleep   
> When all the love around you is dying 
> 
> How do you stay so strong?   
> How did you hide it all for so long?   
> How can I take the pain away?   
> How can I save 
> 
> A fallen angel, in the dark   
> Never thought you'd fall so far   
> Fallen angel, close your eyes   
> I won't let you fall tonight   
> Fallen angel 
> 
> You do it all for my own protection   
> You make me feel like I'll be okay   
> Still I have so many questions 
> 
> How do you stay so strong?   
> How did you hide it all for so long?   
> How can I take the pain away?   
> How can I save 
> 
> A fallen angel, in the dark   
> Never thought you'd fall so far   
> Fallen angel, close your eyes   
> I won't let you fall tonight   
> Fallen angel, just let go   
> You don't have to be alone   
> Fallen angel, close your eyes   
> I won't let you fall tonight 
> 
> I was right beside you   
> When you went to hell and back again   
> I was right beside you   
> When you went to hell and back again   
> And I, I can save, a fallen angel   
> ~ Three Days Grace, "Fallen Angel".

Chapter 90: September 22 – 23, 1996, Hogwarts

Needless to say, that Sunday things grew a little quieter, with all the members of the D.A. needing time to actually work on their homework and other regular tasks. As such, I spent the day reading my charms book and trying to actually learn it, though, to say I was regretting my decision to continue to the N.E.W.T. level would be putting it mildly.

With such a chaotic weekend, I had completely forgotten that on Monday we were due to have our first group therapy session for D.A. members. As I groggily stumbled down to breakfast with Neville and sat down near Harry and Hermione, the thought of “talking about my feelings” was quite the furthest thing from my mind.

“So therapy will be after dinner tonight, at five,” Hermione said idly as she started picking apart a piece of toast.

“Therapy?” I asked groggily, frowning at her, “No, my appointment’s on Friday.”

“Not your individual session,” Hermione shook her head sadly, “ _Group.”_

I groaned loudly and banged my head on the table in front of me, my chest seizing up with fear and terror at the mere thought of having to go to such an event. Neville immediately started rubbing my back comfortingly.

“Alright, so, at five, we will all agree that I am occupied with just a _crushing_ amount of work in –“ I began, but Hermione glared at me.

“ _Margaret_ ,” she never used my full name.

It was startling.

My eyes widened in surprise as she cleared her throat and continued, “You have not engaged in many of your pre-trauma hobbies or activities. You have not been to a single transfiguration research meeting with McGonagall, nor have you registered as an Animagus, as you promised. Your engagement with those around you has been tenuous at best and you are constantly on edge, so much so that Neville is now, too, because he’s constantly comforting you. And you refuse to talk to Shae about any of it.”

I glared at her, frustrated and angry that she would dare to say these things to me, when she was just as withdrawn and reserved as I was at this point.

“Even if you don’t go, I think listening to others will do you wonders.”

I sighed and stabbed at my food with my fork, not wanting to listen to her words or any sort of validity they may have held.

I was tired, and I didn’t really have the ability to think about much.

Classes, as such, went by in a blur that day. I learned what I needed to learn, and didn’t focus on much of any of it. Even elementalism was sort of blurry as Flitwick painstakingly attempted to teach us how to control our personal elements, and I painfully tried to do so without burning up the entire room.

The only comfort in the situation was that Malfoy was having similar trouble; he had grown increasingly withdrawn from his friends in Slytherin, and in class if he wasn’t bitching about me, he was complaining about everyone else or actively yelling at Flitwick. In fact, so many expletives were being thrown at the poor man, that he ended class relatively early.

“Well, you all can practice on your own now, and I’ll see you on Thursday,” he rushed, and I didn’t need to be told twice, especially with Hermione glaring at me out the corner of her eye for me to attend Group.

I did not feel like listening to everyone talk about how, because they had supported my brother and me, they had been abused and scarred for the rest of their lives.

If there was any situation that would make my mental health _worse_ , it was that one.

Still, after dinner, I was shuffled along to the room Shae had reserved for this purpose, mostly by Hermione. Harry looked less than thrilled to be going as well, and Neville looked more than conflicted, clearly agreeing with Hermione that I needed this, but not wanting to put me into any situation I found uncomfortable. As she basically forced me into a chair, Neville watched me with abject terror on his face, his eyes flickering back and forth from me to Shae and to Hermione and then back to me again. I crouched low in my seat, hunching over in it and staring at my trainers, which were fraying at the edges.

Students trickled into the room; there were about sixteen seats all situated in a circle, and the people coming in seemed to be the worst cases. The four of us were there, of course, as well as Sam, Ginny, Ron, Luna, Elena, and Claire; Ernie, Kat, Peter, Nadia, and Dean were those who filled up the rest of the chairs, and Shae sat at the chair farthest away from the door, at the unofficial head of the circle. I sat in between Neville and Harry and wrung my wrists in nervousness, trying to ignore the presence of everyone around me, my heart pounding as loudly as it could in my ears.

“Well, I believe that’s everyone. Welcome! Dean, if you could close the door, please,” Shae greeted. I swallowed heavily and I could see that my hand was visibly shaking now; I didn’t know if anyone could notice, but I was trying my hardest to not vomit.

“Now, this isn’t a usual sort of group therapy session. Typically, group therapy is between strangers; that way, you feel more able to share all your experiences and problems; I am fully anticipating that some of you will not wish to talk and discuss, simply to protect your friends. However, it’s relatively difficult for me to have a group of strangers here, and I think we can use the group therapy format in a different way, to tackle the problems inherent in you all knowing each other, and to use the fact that you have all shared a traumatic experience together in a productive way,” Shae began, looking around at the room with raised eyebrows, in case any of us were to argue with her.

“Alright. Now, you all have been through a series of traumatic experiences surrounding Dolores Umbridge and the war at large, to differing degrees, and the experiences themselves have been varied,” Shae continued. I was still shaking, now staring intently at the stones beneath my feet. They were cracking a bit between the blocks, and the cracks were eroding away.

“I want you to all go around the circle, say your name – even though I know you all know each other - and say what your precise diagnosis has been. Not everyone simply has problems from last year, and it’s important that we are all aware of each other’s general difficulties. Sharing experiences can come later – and in everyone’s own time. Not everyone is ready to share yet, and that’s okay – I’m not putting any of you on the spot,” Shae continued, and I was still staring at the stones.

“Alright, well, um,” I looked up to see that Ernie was sitting on Shae’s right side, and so he had the dubious honor of getting to go first.

“Hi guys, I’m Ernie, er,” he swallowed, but I think it helped that we were all his friends, and wouldn’t judge him – or at least, I hoped it helped him, because I really needed it to help me, “I have PTSD – obviously, I mean, yeah – and – erm – Persistent Depressive Disorder.”

“Hi,” Nadia next to him frowned, looking into her hands and sighing, “I’m Nadia, I have PTSD, and OCD.”

I frowned in surprise. I had had no idea of that.

“Hi,” Dean sighed, “I’m Dean, I have PTSD and nothing else. Wow, I feel like me being here is pointless.”

“It is not,” Shae interjected immediately, “You are all here because the experiences you went through last year were the _most_ severe. _Many_ of your classmates have other mental conditions, however, they did not go through the same traumas that you all did, and thus, you are not here. Introducing any other problems you may have is simply so we are all aware of what is affecting each other, and so we know of any issues that may arise here in this group setting. Carry on.”

“Alright then,” Peter mumbled quietly, “I’m Peter, and I have PTSD and Persistent Depressive Disorder.”

“I’m Kat,” Kat sighed, “I have PTSD and I’m on the Autism spectrum.”

“I’m Claire, I don’t actually have PTSD, I just had the pleasure of going on the run for a while, but I have had Anorexia in the past,” Claire muttered quietly.

“I’m Elena, I have… if I have PTSD it’s mild, and I have Persistent Depressive Disorder and Generalized Anxiety Disorder,” she whispered.

“I’m Luna, I have PTSD, and Schizophrenia,” she whispered quietly.

I was wondering if this had really been a good idea for everyone to get this out into the open. My anxious responses to each word seemed to get worse as they continued.

“I’m Ron, I have PTSD, and nothing else.”

“I’m Ginny, I have PTSD and Bipolar Disorder.”

“I’m Sam, I have PTSD and Persistent Depressive Disorder, and Generalized Anxiety Disorder.”

“I’m Neville, I have PTSD and Persistent Depressive Disorder, and Social Anxiety Disorder.”

I swallowed and mumbled to my feet, “I’m Maggie, I have PTSD and Persistent Depressive Disorder. I’ve also had addictions in the past.”

I continued to stare at my feet, but it was kind of hard, as I had been shaking so much that I could barely focus on any one thing.

“I’m Harry, I have PTSD and Borderline Personality Disorder.”

“I’m Hermione, I have PTSD and Generalized Anxiety Disorder.”

“Great,” Shae finished, and I wrung my hands in terror and nervousness, wanting to get out of there more than anything.

“Now, what I think we should do next is if anyone wants to talk about anything they’ve experienced or have been having trouble with – especially things that have to do with the trauma of last year. Would anyone like to start?”

“Er, I can,” Sam muttered.

“Sure, go ahead Sam,” Shae responded kindly.

_No, please, no –_

“I’ve been having nightmares again,” Sam sighed, “They’re pretty terrible.”

“Nightmares about what?” Ernie asked, frowning.

“Oh just fighting in the Ministry – I saw Hermione get cursed,” Sam admitted, “She kind of looked like she was dead. It was utterly terrifying.”

“So what are your nightmares about?” Nadia furthered, “Is it just a replaying of her getting hurt?”

“Most of the time,” Sam admitted, “Sometimes though, she actually dies. Those are the worst ones.”

“Do they feel real? Mine usually feel real,” Dean sighed.

“Yeah,” Sam muttered, “I hate that they do.”

“Usually when I have one that feels real, I try to just do deep breathing when I wake up, you know?” Dean continued, “Usually helps.”

“Doesn’t for me,” Harry shook his head mournfully, “Frankly, I haven’t found a way to help me with them.”

“What do you have nightmares about?” Hermione asked softly.

“Friends getting tortured,” Harry admitted, staring at his shoes, “Losing people. The usual stuff.”

“I try to have a way to remind myself that what happened in the nightmare is in the past,” Hermione sighed, “Doesn’t always work, but, there you go.”

“How, though?” Sam muttered, “I don’t see how, without running around like a complete maniac or something.”

“What do you mean, run around like a maniac?” Hermione raised an eyebrow.

“I mean, run to make sure that your friends are okay and stuff,” Sam amended.

“Usually waking up safe and warm in a bed rather than in the forest works,” Hermione sighed.

“And for the rest of us?” Kat snapped irritably, before flushing in embarrassment.

“I dunno, for me I just look and see that my scars aren’t fresh,” Dean shrugged.

“See, I have nightmares of racial based violence, which is not fun, and then it’s not as though I wear my hijab while I sleep, so I usually panic when I feel that my hair is free,” Nadia sighed, “I have to pace a lot whenever that happens.”

“Is the pacing a coping mechanism?” Ginny asked softly.

“Yeah,” Nadia muttered, “Temporarily stops the repetitive thoughts in my head. If I walk back and forth four paces each one hundred times, I feel better. But when I have those nightmares… I’m usually up the rest of the night.”

“Just drug yourself to sleep, that’s what I have to do,” Kat muttered softly.

“I’d really rather not,” Nadia frowned heavily.

“It’s hard to stop myself from taking extra hormones when I wake up from nightmares,” Ron sighed, “I want to make up for the lost time when I was captured, but I know that’s bad. I usually manage to stop myself just by feeling my facial hair for a little while. I don’t think I’ll ever shave again, though.”

“That’s fair,” Ernie nodded in agreement, the first words he had said the whole time.

“I tend to take my _lack_ of facial hair as a comforting mechanism,” Luna laughed quietly.

“Do you ever have to make sure your hair is long enough when you wake up, Neville?” Ron asked curiously. Neville looked over at him, frowning somewhat.

“I don’t… tend to have nightmares about that,” he answered quietly.

I looked up at him in shock. I was unaware he had nightmares at all. Well, I think I knew he had nightmares, but I had no idea that it was enough to really worry about. He was specifically not meeting my eyes.

“I, er, I have my own rituals to wake up and remind myself that everything’s okay, though,” he whispered, before staring intently at the ceiling, clearly not willing to discuss the issue more.

“Ah – Maggie helps you, then,” Hermione offered, clearly trying to get me to enter the conversation. I continued to stare at Neville instead, though, just in shock from this revelation.

“Er, no,” Neville whispered softly. A tense silence hung over the air.

He was having nightmares?

And not waking me up to help him?

Why?

“I can’t do this,” I whispered, and I picked up my bag and ran out of the room, sprinting down the corridor to the bedroom. I threw my bag on the bed, grabbed my oversized black hoodie, and threw it on before running back out into the corridor. I kept running as fast as I could out through the Entrance Hall and out the door, sprinting through the fields of the grounds as though I was flying, once again.

I eventually stopped, able to register that running away wasn’t the right decision here, though every cell in my body was screaming at me to do so. I leaned against a tree, panting, and hoping to everything in the universe that no one was going to find me – I needed to not be found right now.

I went somewhat into the woods and climbed up a tree, scratching my legs on some branches as I did so, getting up into top of the tree and sitting there. I rested against the trunk and took my hair out of my ponytail, letting it fall around my shoulders. It was still a little short from the burning.

_Why wouldn’t he tell me he was having nightmares?_

_And screw Hermione for making me go to that_.

Nothing could have fucked me up more than that moment.

All those people, having nightmares, because of my brother and me. Hermione wouldn’t have had any support without me to start a rebellion. The DA would have been smaller, less revolutionary, and Umbridge would have had less of a reason to completely terrorize everyone – just a little torture, comparatively.

Harry would always have had nightmares, but the rest of these people would have probably escaped it, if it weren’t for me.

I started sobbing against my will, holding my face in my hands and curling into a ball on the tree branch. My body was wracked with sobs. I had sacrificed so many people who did _not_ deserve it. I had no right to have done this to them. No right at all.

I curled up tighter into my ball and pressed my face into my bare knees. It was somewhat chilly out, and I should have been wearing pants, but I couldn’t take the chance that Neville would catch up to me in the time I took running away.

For the first time in a long time, I wanted to take something. I wanted something running through my veins that numbed everything. Heroin was ideal, but anything would have been fine.

The thought of wanting such a thing was startling and chilling. I gripped my knees tightly with my hands and sobbed loudly. The only explanation I could come up with in my head was that it was because the problem was the people who usually kept me away form such things.

I sniffled loudly and shivered in the air. That feeling of not wanting to exist was back again, too. It paralyzed my entire body and made it impossible to leave the tree, though I knew I needed to to keep warm. I looked at my scarred arm and I swallowed heavily, knowing that that was the worst possible idea.

 _Neville_.

I couldn’t do that to him again.

He would never survive it.

I sighed and pulled myself down from the tree, slowly climbing down and landing on the ground with a thump. I rested on the ground for a while, feeling somewhat too tired to continue on. I didn’t have the energy to encounter any of them, at least, not right then.

I don’t know how long I stayed like that, resting against the tree, and trying to not break down. It was a while. Probably too long. My hair was tangled from the climb down and I probably looked a mess, though I didn’t care much about that anymore after being on the run for months. In fact, there was something oddly comforting about the thought of sleeping outside.

I settled against the tree and curled up a little more. The thought was so comforting, that I was tempted to give into it. No Neville, which was terrible, but I still couldn’t deal with the thought of facing him. Why didn’t he tell me about his nightmares?

Was something wrong?

Had _I_ done something wrong?

Did I distance him from me forever, somehow, when I had tried to kill myself?

These possibilities swirled in my brain and made me sob.

I felt helpless, and alone, and somehow small and lesser. I felt almost as though I was inferior, as though Neville not trusting me made me lesser than him, as though I was not strong enough to handle what _he_ had handled.

It was the one and only time he had made me feel like that.

It felt terrifyingly reminiscent of the Great Douchenozzle.

Neville was not the Great Douchenozzle, and even _feeling_ similar feelings about him made my heart clench tightly in my chest; so tightly that I could barely breathe.

I took more deep breaths than I could count, reminding myself that it was a vastly different situation – an isolated incident, and Neville wasn’t trying to wield power over me. He was just trying to keep me mentally stable to deal with what had to come next; I couldn’t blame him for that.

 _You also can’t let it continue_.

Well, that was a problem for another day.

I couldn’t go back _now_.

I clenched my teeth and pulled my hood up over my head, preparing myself to get sleep outside in the night and the woods, comforted by the trees and the dirt and the bugs. It was homier to me now, after everything.

I dozed off a little, even – but I wasn’t asleep long enough to reach the stage of dreams. I woke up, just on the precipice of such physical reaction and mental terror, to someone shaking me frantically.

“Maggie? Maggie? Maggie?”

I blinked my eyes open groggily to see, of course, Neville, staring at m.

“Oh thank god,” he whispered, his voice choked up entirely, pulling me into a long hug.

“I was asleep,” I muttered groggily, grumpy at having been woken up, and overwhelmed with terror and upsetness at seeing him again.

“I – I never can – I wasn’t sure,” Neville choked out, his voice breaking somewhat.

“I had a pulse,” I muttered irritably, staring out at the forest over his shoulder.

“Yes, but – but – I needed you to wake up – you had been so upset and you’ve been gone for so many hours and – “ Neville was crying now, and the sound was enough to break whatever parts of me were not yet broken. I pulled back from the hug and looked at him distraughtly.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked softly.

“Because I didn’t want to burden you,” he blubbered, holding his face in his hands and crying even more.

“Neville, you wouldn’t be a burden. I love you, and you’ve done the same for me. Why wouldn’t you let me help you? Why wouldn’t you let me take care of you the way you’ve cared for me? You know how I am with being equal in a relationship,” I managed to get out, my voice choked with the effort of saying such things, “I – I need us to be – you can’t do that to me. At all. Not even a little.”

“I know – I _know_ – I couldn’t bring myself to tell you about this – I didn’t want to make you worse – I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry Maggie, I screwed up –“

“No, no, it’s not – it’s not malicious, you aren’t trying to control me, or, I guess, you were trying to control my mental health into being okay, which I can’t really _blame_ you for –“

“I can blame myself,” Neville practically screamed, and he was pulling at his hair tightly, so tightly I felt like he would pull it out of his scalp. I quickly grabbed his hands and pulled them away from him, staring at him in shock.

“Neville, I’ve done the same thing to you countless times, it’s okay, I was just in shock – “

“You ran away,” Neville whispered, “I thought you were _running_ away. I couldn’t keep up with you – damn dragon –“

I laughed weakly.

“Please don’t run away, not like that. If you want to leave, I understand, but at least let me say goodbye,” Neville whimpered.

“I’m not leaving, and certainly not you,” I reassured quietly, reaching to hold his face in my hands, “This isn’t like then. I haven’t had to deal with a lot of traumatic experiences happening in three days with no time to process them afterwards.”

“I kn-know –“

“I just… I was already feeling terrified of having to talk about my experiences, and then horrified with guilt over what everyone’s gone through because of _me_ –“

“It’s not because of you, Mags, it’s –“

“It’s because of me. The DA was targeted so heavily because it was so rebellious and radical. It was radical and rebellious because Hermione was able to continue with her revolutionary fervor fourth year. She was able to do this because _I encouraged her_. Without me, Harry would have been like, ‘sorry, Hermione, you’re crazy.’”

“He’s just as passionate about it as Hermione is –“

“I’m telling you, this is _my fault_ –“

“That is ridiculous, and no one sees it that way, Mags, _no one_ ,” Neville reassured, holding to me tightly.

“Well I can’t help to – and Shae is no help, I can’t tell her anything without feeling like a burden –“

“Mags, you’re going to have to talk to her, you need to talk to someone about everything you’ve been going through,” Neville whispered.

“I want to talk to my Dad,” I whimpered, the words spilling from my mouth before I could stop them. The feeling of missing him and Mum overwhelmed me so much I couldn’t breathe; it flooded my veins and tissues and bones and I ached from head to foot from it. Neville looked at me in shock as I burst into tears again, and he held me tightly to him in his arms, just holding me in the middle of the forest and gently stroking my back with his hand. He enveloped me, pulling me into his lap now, and squeezing with as much strength as he could muster.

“I’m so sorry, Maggie,” Neville murmured into my hair. I sobbed louder.

“I wish you could talk to your dad, too,” he continued, running a hand into mine and lacing our fingers together tightly. I stared at our hands for a long time, realizing that the point had been entirely missed at this point.

“Neville,” I whispered softly. He pulled back and looked at me earnestly.

“Yeah?”

“You have to tell me what’s happening with you. You’re going to use this as an excuse to keep me in the dark again, but I need you to tell me. I need us to be equals. Can you? Please?”

“Yeah,” he whispered, “I can – I can try. I’m… I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Not for hiding it, we’re going to move past that now,” his voice sounded strained, as though he really couldn’t move past it, “But – but – but for what it is.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean – we should go inside. I need – we need to be inside for this, okay?” Neville asked. I nodded, and he gently helped me up from the ground, and we walked inside into our room together, by some miracle not running into anyone else.

“They’re all going to bed I think,” Neville answered my nonverbal question. I nodded, sighing softly as we reached the room and sat down on the bed. Blue chirped happily at my presence and ran up to me, rubbing up against my legs happily.

“You startled her when you ran in and out, I think,” Neville whispered softly, clearly dreading where the conversation was naturally heading.

“Sorry Blue,” I mumbled softly, reaching down to scratch her behind her crest and enjoying the feeling of her feathers between my fingers.

“Therapy ended rather abruptly after you left, obviously,” Neville sighed, “No one wanted to continue after that.”

I groaned; this only made me feel guiltier.

“It’s okay,” Neville reassured softly, “You don’t have to go again.”

“No, I feel guilty that I took time away from everyone that they probably needed for help –“

“Mags, it’s okay. We talked about some stuff, and honestly, it’s not your fault. Hermione and Shae shouldn’t have forced you into that. You’re not ready yet, not at all, and I don’t know why they thought you were,” Neville scowled heavily.

I looked at him in surprise; he hardly ever got mad at Hermione.

“I definitely had it out with her while we were looking for you,” Neville admitted softly, “Harry yelled too. We were pretty pissed. Harry didn’t want to go, either, for similar reasons – guilt feelings. He might feel guiltier than you, to be honest – I think he only didn’t leave because Hermione was _next_ to him, and probably preventing him from doing so. But we… yeah. We rowed. Hermione maintains you had to go and you still _have_ to go. Harry isn’t going to go again, and he doesn’t think you had to. I… I probably will, but I don’t think you _should_ go, either.”

I sighed heavily, “Oh no.”

“Hermione was succumbing to her major flaw,” Neville rolled his eyes as he changed into his t-shirt and flannel pajama pants, “Thinking she knows best.”

“You shouldn’t be _mad_ at her, though –“

“Harry’s furious. He looked really shook up – I’m serious that he probably would have run out too if Hermione hadn’t been sitting next to him. And if something had happened to you, or you had run away for real –“

I sighed. There was no arguing with this; and I was so shaken up, still, myself after what I had had to hear, I knew I was miffed with Hermione as well.

“I could see you shaking while it was starting – you were having a full on panic attack. Hermione should have known to not bring you to that. Honestly,” Neville growled in annoyance, sitting next to me after I had put on my pajamas as well.

“Well that’s not really what I wanted to talk about here, Nev,” I whispered softly.

“Yeah, I know… I’m stalling,” Neville admitted softly.

“It’s late, Nev,” I sighed.

“I know… okay,” Neville groaned, running his hands through his hair and over his face, “Okay. Okay. Okay.”

“Okay?” I asked, laughing quietly. Blue chirped, nestling immediately into Neville’s lap. Neville gave me a look of exhaustion and exasperation.

“Mags, I… I’ve been having nightmares about your suicide attempt,” Neville whispered softly.

I sighed heavily. I figured as much. What was the obvious choice? That. That was the obvious choice.

“I keep dreaming of you dead – and there’s no ‘reliving the past’ for me. Every time you’re _actually_ dead,” he whimpered, tears falling from his eyes as he stared at his lap and Blue, “Surrounded in a pool of blood – no heartbeat – no breathing – gone – gone – gone –“

I reached for him and held him tightly in my arms as he sobbed uncontrollably and without stopping.

“I can never – I never wake up at that. The dream goes like this: I walk and find you, lying in your own blood. I check to see you’re alive. You aren’t. I dream that I panic and I freak out and I scream and scream and scream because you’re _dead_ , you’re _gone_ and I couldn’t save you, and it always ends with me trying to kill myself in some way to j-join you – usually the same way you left – and then I wake up at that. That’s when I wake up. And this happens almost every night,” Neville drew in a shaky breath and I held him as tightly as I could.

“You never wake up, because I don’t wake up screaming. It’s not like your nightmares, from when I help you. I wake up almost paralyzed with fear and horror and despondency. I immediately have to turn to you, and you being asleep looks so much like you _dead_ – I have to check everything. I check your pulse. I check your breathing. Sometimes, if the dream is particularly – if I feel particularly immersed, or if we had a bad day the day before and I’m not entirely certain you lived through the night – I’ll even wait until you wake up, I won’t go to bed until I _know_ you’re animate again. And I can’t sleep without you next to me, _right_ next to me, so I can check that. I usually can get through the day, now, because – because it’s been long enough since that I – I know that you’ll be okay – but at night I’m so disoriented and dazed and I had been _immersed in a world where you died_ and I – I didn’t want to tell you because I couldn’t burden you with this. How was I supposed to burden you with this? How was I supposed to tell you about this? I couldn’t,” he finished, holding my shoulders tightly to him. I was crying with him, our tears mixing and falling into Blue’s feathers, so much so that she looked at us in fear – after all, one of us crying, she knew by now, was a bad thing. Both of us crying happened rarely, and was the _worst_ sort of day.

“Neville, when you have these dreams you wake me up, okay? Every time. I don’t care. I’m sorry if I end up being grumpy, but you _always_ wake me up, from now on, please, for me, alright?” I asked, looking at him earnestly. He nodded, holding to my arms and squeezing them for dear life.

A soft knock issued on the door. I got up and went to the door, opening it slightly. Elena was standing on the other side, looking worried.

“Oh good,” she whispered softly, smiling weakly at me.

“Elena,” I answered in surprise, looking at her in amazement, “What are you –“

“I didn’t want you to run away again,” Elena admitted quietly, “But you’re here, so it’s okay.”

“I told you I’d find her, Elena,” Neville mumbled, still getting over crying as much as he had been.

“Yeah, I know,” Elena agreed, “I wanted to make sure you had succeeded. If you hadn’t I probably would have gone out looking for her, too. Would have dragged Claire with me, but still.”

“Why?” I asked in legitimate surprise.

“Because when you ran away a year ago, I was terrified. I was terrified the whole time. You’re my sister, Maggie, and honestly, if you left – Mum and Dad aren’t even around anymore. I’d have Harry, and I love him, he’s my brother, but – but – you can’t let me lose anymore family,” Elena whispered softly, “Not yet, anyway. I know one of us will die in war, but – but I would rather not lose one of you to mental illness.”

I sighed heavily, looking at her sadly, “I promise, I promise I won’t run away again.”

“Thanks,” Elena smiled weakly, “I appreciate that.”

I swallowed heavily, knowing that she probably didn’t want to talk about this any more than I did, but I couldn’t stop myself.

“Do you ever miss them so much that –“

“I can’t breathe? Yeah,” Elena admitted quietly, “Almost every day.”

I swallowed again and nodded, relief flooding my chest.

“I always figured I’d lose them to something like this, but – but – but I thought it would be later. Or at least, not all at once,” Elena continued, wringing her wrists and staring at her hands.

“And they died, and I found out you had tried to kill yourself, and Harry had acted recklessly and stupid with those god damned Death Eaters – you do realize I could have lost my entire family while I was being hidden at Headquarters, right?” Elena asked in a rough, hoarse voice.

“I’m sorry, Elena. I’m so sorry,” I whispered softly.

“It’s not your fault – that’s important that you stop thinking that,” Elena shook her head frantically, “Please, _please_ stop blaming yourself –“

“It’s not going to happen all at once –“

“I know, but you have to start. At any rate, that’s not – the point is that everything’s overwhelming, and we’re probably not going to stop grieving until this god damned war is over,” Elena sighed, “Because only then will we have the _time_ to _process_ everything.”

“You’re probably right,” I admitted.

“I’ve been in therapy a long while,” Elena pointed out, “I understand this stuff.”

I laughed weakly, before frowning.

That was right.

She had another therapist.

“Elena,” I paused, “What is your old therapist doing?”

“Still seeing me?” Elena raised an eyebrow, “I wasn’t going to switch when I’d been working with this woman for years – aside from that brief time of being on the damn run. I’m only with Shae for group, and that’s only because Shae has a point that we all need to support each other – you shouldn’t come back until you can handle it, but you know, you should eventually –“

“Yeah, I know – I mean,” I swallowed, “I don’t think Shae can be my therapist.”

“You don’t?” Elena asked in surprise, “Wasn’t she basically a therapist that summer?”

“Yeah, but, I didn’t know her well then,” I explained, “Now I feel like telling her anything is burdening her.”

“Oh,” Elena frowned, “I’ll talk to Dr. Wilson for you then. She should probably be able to see you; you _need_ to talk to someone. I think she’d be good for you, too.”

“Thanks,” I whispered breathlessly, a tangible weight being lifted from my chest.

“Of course,” Elena smiled weakly, “Now I’m going to go to bed. Night, guys.”

“Night,” Neville and I responded as she left, and I turned to Neville with a slight smile on my face.

“I am _so god damned happy_ you’re going to get the help you need,” Neville beamed widely, tears flowing from his eyes.

“I just hope Shae can help you,” I whispered.

“I think with time I should be able to – at the very least, with time of you being better, I should be guaranteed to be better, right?” Neville laughed weakly as I walked over to him and held him in my arms, the two of us crawling into bed and holding tightly to each other.

“Provided something else doesn’t come along to screw you up, then yes,” I laughed weakly.

“I don’t know what could screw me up more than seeing you like that,” Neville muttered weakly into my hair.

“Don’t say shit like that,” I sighed, “Talk about tempting fate.”

“Fate is a concept invented by crap Divination professors to give them a job,” Neville joked. I laughed weakly and wrapped my arms tightly and protectively around him anyway.

“You’ll wake me up, right?” I reminded, swallowing heavily as I pressed my face into his chest.

“Yeah,” Neville sighed softly.

“You _will_. You _need to_ ,” I insisted earnestly.

“I will, I promise,” Neville responded with more fervor, and I nodded in satisfaction, wrapping my arms even tighter around him. Somehow, holding each other tightly was something we could actually sleep through; soon enough I was sleeping heavily in his arms.

I was woken up midway through the night, and I groggily knew exactly what was happening. I reached for his face and covered it in kisses, and he held me tightly again, and I could feel his tears in my hair.

“You d-died,” he sobbed in my hair, and I wrapped my arms tightly around his shoulders.

“I’m alive, I promise,” I reassured heartily.

“I thought you had died, I thought you had died – you looked like you had died,” he cried out, sobbing so loudly I was worried he had woken up McGonagall.

“I didn’t die, I’m alive, I’m here and I’m alive and I’m with you and I promise I’ll never leave you again, I promise,” I reassured, holding him and running my hands through his hair and covering his face in kisses.

“I love you so much – don’t do that – don’t do that ever again – Maggie if you do that I’ll –“

“I know, and I won’t, I promise I won’t,” I repeated, my chest clenching tightly.

“Maggie, I love you, I love you so much,” he sobbed, and I kissed every inch of his face again.

“I’m here and I’m not leaving, I promise,” I insisted, and he just dissolved into heavy sobs in my arms. I held him and soothed him and I cried with him, lulling him into a tired and weepy sleep. Soon I followed him back into sleep, horrified by what I had caused – horrified, and trying desperately to not feel too much guilt over it. I couldn’t do that again. It would only make it worse.

But I think when he woke up in the morning, he looked a little bit better. He kissed me on the lips lovingly and whispered thank you against them, his eyes shining slightly with residual tears, but also something similar to hope.

And that was all that mattered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry guys! To be honest, the ending of September is a lot of set up for the rest of the year, and as such it moves REALLY SLOWLY, so I don't have much inspiration to write. But we're almost at the end of it, so, hopefully we'll get to the good stuff soon. Plus, finals and Christmas and stuff has been chaotic. Please comment, and hopefully the next chapter will be soon!


	92. Chapter Ninety-One: September 24-25, 1996, Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey, look up!   
> You don't have to be a ghost,   
> Here amongst the living.   
> You are flesh and blood!   
> And you deserve to be loved   
> And you deserve what you are given."   
> ~ Florence and the Machine, "Third Eye".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for sexual content within

Chapter 91: September 24 – 25, 1996, Hogwarts

If Hermione had apologized that next day, I probably would have forgiven her right away. After all, it wasn’t really her intention for me to flip out like that; it was an honest mistake. But Hermione opened her mouth with that expression she got when she was about to lecture someone, and I immediately turned on my heel and walked away angrily, annoyed that she couldn’t just admit I was having a tough time that necessarily required me to distance myself from what I had caused – or what I had thought I caused – I didn’t know anymore.

I walked off in a huff down the hallway, up towards my room just to have a _break_ , when I ran into McGonagall.

“Hello Maggie,” she greeted kindly, looking at me with a sad expression I had gotten quite used to from her for a while.

“Hey Professor,” I paused, sighing, “Are you free right now?”

“Yes, I believe so. Come, we can talk in my office,” she agreed, and we walked the short distance to it together, me closing the door behind us.

“So,” she sighed as I sat down across from her at her desk, “You haven’t been having transfiguration lessons.”

“Yeah, I know…” I sighed, “It’s, well, I’ve been so caught up in trying to grasp elementalism that I just kind of… forgot.”

“That’s what I thought,” McGonagall frowned, “But you really can’t neglect your work with transfiguration. I think it’s extremely important that you win the _Transfiguration Today_ award, and to do that you have to keep working on your experiments. I am sorry for that, but Flitwick says that you are making real, if slow, progress.”

I sighed heavily and nodded.

“Also, you were going to register as an animagus, and you have yet to start that process,” McGonagall scolded.

“I know,” I admitted, “I just am not ready to do that yet.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t trust the Ministry to not use that information against me?” I sighed heavily.

“Well… Minister Bones is probably your best bet. You don’t want to wait too long and have her be gone,” McGonagall reminded.

“Yeah, I know,” I agreed begrudgingly, “That doesn’t change the fact that she’s not alone in there. There are plenty of people who could use the information.”

“Well, you have to soon, if you want a chance at winning the award. Also, people _know_ you’re an animagus. Soon they’re not going to ignore it any longer, and the punishments for not registering are quite severe,” McGonagall continued.

“Yeah, I know,” I sighed. After all, how could Hermione threaten Rita Skeeter into journalistic silence without a real threat?

“Alright, well, that’s settled then. How are you doing otherwise?” she asked kindly, smiling at me slightly.

“Well, I’m assuming you know, not great,” I sighed.

“Yes, I do,” she frowned, “But Dr. Wilson has agreed to see you.”

“Oh good,” I sighed with relief, “When?”

“She’s free when you had your appointment with Shae. And Shae agrees this is a good idea, so everything’s set to go,” McGonagall nodded.

“Thank you,” I responded earnestly, before frowning, “Er… Professor?”

“Yes, Maggie?” she asked, now looking puzzled – after all, what more could I have to talk about?

“Er… this is really awkward,” I mumbled, flushing madly, but I hadn’t yet had time to talk to her about this, and I couldn’t really avoid it any longer.

“I’m certain that there have been more awkward moments in our lives,” she responded, raising an eyebrow.

“I… er… I’m sorry, by the way, for… er… any… er…” I swallowed back my words, groaning and holding my face in my hands.

“Oh dear – spit it out, Maggie,” McGonagall sighed.

“I would like to state, on record, that I would rather be talking to my mum about this, but, alas, she is dead,” I grumbled into my hands.

“Oh… no,” McGonagall groaned. She was a smart woman – clearly she could see where this was going.

“I’msorryforanydisturbancesNevilleandImayhavecausedinyourlifebyliterallysleepingnexttoyou,” I finally spit out, not pausing between any of the words and staring intently at the front of her desk.

“It… is… alright,” she managed to get out in a strangled voice, “After the first… er… incident, I quickly learned to put silencing charms around your room. No one can hear any sound coming from there.”

“Er… thank you,” I mumbled sheepishly, still refusing to meet her eyes.

“I’m assuming that’s not all, since you could have easily apologized… earlier,” McGonagall furthered.

“No… no, that’s not all,” I sighed, “Er… see, Neville and I haven’t…” I swallowed, wringing my wrists.

“Haven’t… dare I ask, what?”

“We haven’t had, the, er, kind of… sex,” I mumbled very quietly, “That can get you pregnant.”

“Well, that’s… alright then,” McGonagall’s voice was also strangled with awkwardness.

“And… we aren’t ready to yet, for a lot of reasons, but, when, we… are… I… would… do you know…”

“Birth control?” McGonagall offered, making me sigh in relief, finally meeting her eyes.

“That would be kind of nice,” I mumbled awkwardly.

“There are quite a few magical methods,” McGonagall acknowledged, now acting businesslike – quite possibly the best route she could have taken with this problem. She got out a sheet of parchment and started writing on it.

“Now, the easiest way – and most effective – is to drink this particular potion. Now, magical contraceptive methods don’t last long term – but they are also one hundred percent effective, and no one really minds having to drink a potion right before sex. It lasts for twenty-four hours as well, so that’s useful. The ingredients are easy to compile and simple to mix, and I’m writing them down here for you. The potion can be made in large quantities; you only have to drink what one portion of this recipe makes, but you can make more at one time – the volume of liquid is about, oh, a cup? Yes, a cup,” McGonagall checked a book she pulled off of a shelf as she continued to write instructions for me, “But you can make it in a large batch and it’ll last for about four months before it’s not as affective.”

“Wow, okay,” I said, amazed that she was so forthcoming in this.

“You can also use a spell, but it’s not one hundred percent effective, and that’s not the spell’s fault – in fact, it _would_ be, if people could do it right. But between the, heat of the moment, as it were, and the fact that it’s a rather complicated charm, people don’t say it right all the time, and it’s only about ninety percent effective, so I’d really rather you make the potion,” McGonagall paused, looking thoughtful, “Or have Neville say the incantation.”

I flushed with embarrassment, “Alright, yeah, that makes sense.”

“The spell only lasts for about an hour, and it should be put on Neville – the potion is for you,” McGonagall continued.

“Could we use both? To be doubly sure?” I asked nervously.

“You could, but the potion is decidedly enough,” McGonagall shrugged.

“Alright, good to know,” I amended.

“Now, I thought that that one summer, you… got around, as it were,” McGonagall continued, her serious expression briefly descending into awkwardness again, “Did you not us birth control during that time?”

“ _Muggle_ birth control,” I amended, “And, well, I wasn’t really taking care of myself. I’m not surprised if my body wasn’t rejecting pretty much everything.”

“Well, I’m sure the high stress levels didn’t make your uterus a very hospitable environment. And, well, you know why you didn’t catch any STDs,” McGonagall sighed.

“Let’s not talk about that, I don’t feel like going off into a rage,” I grumbled.

“Yes, fair enough,” McGonagall agreed, “Well, those are two methods – there are more, but they’re simply not as good, herbs you can eat and such.”

“Fair enough, this should be fine,” I agreed, “What exactly does the potion do to my body?”

“It kills any sperm that enters your uterus before they can venture up into your fallopian tube,” McGonagall explained, “Any and all sperm. And the spell removes the cellular machinery that allows the sperm to penetrate the egg, so they just sort of bounce off it. Does that make sense?”

I nodded, feeling relieved that it was a relatively minimal sort of effect.

“Magic means you don’t have to worry about the potion missing any sperm – it really will kill them all – or the spell missing any, if you do it right – it really will render all of them useless, and Neville can easily cast it on himself. And I think that covers everything… unless you have any more questions?” McGonagall offered, her expression now an even mix of business and awkwardness.

“Er… no, I don’t think so,” I mumbled, “Where can I get the ingredients for the potion?”

“The student store cupboard has them all, on purpose,” McGonagall nodded, “Granted, we don’t tell students about this unless they ask, but still, they’re all there.”

“Great,” I sighed with relief, “Okay. I think I still have my cauldron…”

“You can use the communal ones you know,” she rolled her eyes.

“Well, yes, but, still,” I shrugged.

“Er… you two aren’t rushing into anything, are you?” she asked awkwardly, her face now entirely that emotion, flushing madly from one corner to the other.

“No,” I reassured softly, grimacing at having to have this conversation, “I don’t think it’ll happen for a while. I’m not… I’m not in that place yet. I still get… nervous… because… of obvious reasons. We just want to be ready for when we, you know, are.”

“Oh good,” McGonagall nodded, “As long as you are thinking all of this through.”

“Yeah,” I agreed, “We are.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to make some sort of long spiel about how you are too young. I’m of the firm opinion that if you lot need to deal with the truly terrible and depressing parts of adulthood, then you should be allowed the fun parts as well, as long as you’re ready for it and responsible,” McGonagall paused, “Just don’t let me down in that respect.”

“Don’t worry, I don’t want a kid for a long, long time,” I sighed.

“I figured as much,” McGonagall rolled her eyes.

“How… how did you deal with all of my parents’ generation… you know, having kids so young?” I asked curiously.

“Poorly, I will admit,” McGonagall frowned, “It’s not even that I thought they couldn’t handle it… it’s that I was concerned that the children would be in danger.”

“Well,” I sighed, “You weren’t wrong.”

McGonagall watched me for a while, “How are you doing with that?”

“I am working through it,” I admitted, “It’s probably one of the things I’m dealing with the best, which, considering I’m not doing _well_ with it, is really saying something.”

“They were proud of you,” McGonagall smiled slightly, “Even while you were on the run, they were so proud of you for surviving.”

“Thanks,” I mumbled, trying not to cry, “I… I regret that I never told them what happened to me.”

“Sometimes it’s better for certain things to be unsaid,” McGonagall paused, “And you know as well as I that this world is not all there is for us.”

“I just wish I could talk to them once more, and say I’m sorry for… for not confiding in them. For not turning to them for help when I could,” I mumbled.

“And I’m sure one day you will,” McGonagall paused, “And I’m sure they know.”

“Thanks, Professor,” I smiled slightly.

“Of course. Now, I will let you keep adjusting to elementalism, but soon we’ll pick up our work again,” McGonagall declared brusquely.

“In October? October sounds like a good time,” I offered.

“Yes, let’s start on the third. Sound good to you?” McGonagall asked. I nodded rapidly.

“Alright. I should get back to some grading. Take care, Maggie,” McGonagall waved, and I left quickly, still feeling a little awkward at having to talk to McGonagall about _birth control_ of all things.

So that evening, after we had finished studying, I turned to Neville and smiled weakly at him. He raised his eyebrows questioningly, in the middle of putting on his pajamas.

“What’s up?” he asked, smiling slightly.

“I… er… had that talk with McGonagall we… discussed… a while ago,” I blushed furiously.

“Oh right,” Neville frowned as he flushed with embarrassment, “It wasn’t… _that_ long ago.”

“Okay it _feels_ like forever ago, with everything that’s happened,” I groaned quietly.

“Fair,” Neville nodded, “Did she… tell you anything?”

“Yeah, she gave me instructions for a potion that works one hundred percent of the time, and a spell that doesn’t work as often because typically people are a wee bit distracted when they try to cast it,” I laughed.

“Oh dear, I can only imagine,” Neville chortled, “Alright, is the potion hard?”

“No, actually, looking over the instructions,” I reassured, “Shouldn’t be hard to do.”

“Cool,” Neville paused, blushing awkwardly, “I don’t think I’m quite ready now, but –“

“I’m decidedly not,” I reassured, “Can… can I ask you why you’re not? Since my reasons have been established and are obvious?”

“Oh! Er,” Neville flushed madly, “It’s not even a – to be honest, Mags, it’s because I don’t want to move too fast.”

I flushed madly and stared at him sheepishly.

“I love you so much, and I want to experience everything with you to the fullest. And I just… I like what we’re doing now. I like feeling you, and touching you, and I want to keep touching you for a while,” Neville grinned slightly, “I’m sure I _would_ be ready if you decided to, say, jump me –“

I laughed loudly at that.

“But I’m okay with going slow, and just taking in every bit of you the way we are right now. Is that okay?” he asked somewhat nervously. I nodded, beaming at him and pulling him in for a long kiss.

“How are you doing since yesterday?” I asked him softly, not even pulling back fully, just talking against his lips.

“Good,” he murmured quietly, smiling against me, “Really good. That really helped, thank you, Mags.”

“Of course,” I nodded firmly, “After all, you’ve done the same for me countless times. You should keep waking me up.”

“I will,” he yawned, “Speaking of…”

I laughed, “Alright,” and we crawled in together to sleep, curling around each other lovingly. I nestled my head softly against his chest and he sighed happily into my hair, and I was able to go off into a wonderful sleep close to him.

Of course, he woke me up some time in the middle of the night – which I was glad for. I reached out for him and covered his face in small kisses as he cried against me, and I wrapped my arms and legs around him tightly.

“I love you, and I’m alive, and I’m not going anywhere, I promise,” I whispered softly, kissing his nose and lips and chin softly.

He didn’t say anything, but just sobbed; I kept kissing him over and over again, running my fingers through his long and curly hair, enjoying the feeling of it as I trailed my lips down to his lips again and kissed him fiercely. He wrapped his arms around me and held me tightly to him, now kissing me with an amazing fervor that made me squeak into his mouth.

“You won’t?” he whispered, pulling back from the kiss. I nodded rapidly and cupped the sides of his face in my hands, looking as deeply into his eyes as I could in the darkness, our surroundings only illuminated by the small window in the corner of the room.

“I won’t,” I insisted out loud, swallowing and pulling him in for another long kiss, “I won’t. I could never do that to you again.”

“It’s so real every time, Mags,” he whimpered.

“I know,” I whispered, “but it’s not. It’s a dream. I’m alive, and I’m here with you, and I’m kissing you and touching you and talking with you. I promise.”

He nodded, more tears falling from his eyes that I rapidly kissed away. He moaned softly under my touch and my legs wrapped so tightly around his waist made me aware of how close we were; my breathing picked up rapidly and I gently slipped my tongue into his mouth. He moaned louder at that and pulled me on top of him on the bed, my body interlocking with his as we kissed each other softly and slowly in the dark. I ran my tongue along the edges of his teeth and he groaned louder, his hands now moving up and down my back slowly and his fingers tracing along every edge of skin.

“Mags,” he whispered softly, and something about the darkness and our pajamas being so thin and soft made everything feel even more intimate than usual. Without sight, all we experienced was touch and smell and sight and taste, and all those other senses were heightened; every press of his fingers against my back somehow felt _more_ than when we could see each other. He was everything I could experience, and I breathed heavily and excitedly, my hips grinding lightly against his stomach, being so much shorter than him that I couldn’t kiss him and straddle his hips at the same time without him bending a little to meet me.

**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**

 

“Nev,” I responded, running my fingertips along his forehead. He gasped slightly and his hands trailed underneath my shirt, moving up my bare back and making me shiver madly.

“We should go back to sleep,” he whispered, but his voice sounded halfhearted as I trailed kisses down from his lips to his jaw, and his hands trailed down my back into my shorts, squeezing my naked butt tightly in his hands.

“Nah,” I murmured huskily, nibbling on his collarbone and making him groan softly, “I think I need to reaffirm _how_ alive I am, don’t you?”

He moaned wordlessly, and I pulled off his shirt in the darkness, trailing more kisses down to his stomach and nibbling on the skin gently.

“Mags,” he groaned, his hands gripping my hair lightly as I pulled off his pants with my teeth.

“What are ya –“ he whimpered as I stared at his penis hungrily, looking at where his head must have been in the darkness.

“Are you feeling vegetarian?” I asked him softly.

“God no, but what are you going to do?” he asked, his hips shifting back and forth somewhat with eagerness.

“Well, I was going to pull you into my mouth, if that’s alright,” I whispered seductively, my words hanging heavily in the night.

“Yes,” he responded, his voice high pitched and squeaky as I wrapped my mouth around the head of him, enveloping my tongue around him. He groaned louder and fell back into the bedding, his hips bucking slightly into my mouth, probably out of instinct. I ran my tongue up and down him eagerly, taking more and more of him into my mouth and tasting how salty and like _him_ he tasted.

“Oh Mags,” he groaned loudly into the air, his hands reaching for my head and grabbing onto it, obviously trying to not hurt me as he buried his fingers deeply into my hair. I moved my mouth up and down on him a little faster, sucking softly on him, and finding myself frustrated when I couldn’t bring all of him into my mouth. I pushed him in as far as I could, breathing through my nose as he filled up my whole mouth. I sucked slightly harder on him as he moaned and gasped loudly, his hips lightly and slowly bucking into me.

“Mags, oh god, Mags,” he whimpered, his hands entangling tighter in my hair, him growing even harder in my mouth. I moaned softly at how stiff he was, my mind thinking of him going inside me other places, and my own parts growing so wet at the thought I could barely think straight. I sucked on him harder and he whimpered louder, and as I wiggled my tongue all over him from the base of him to the tip he cried out wordlessly at the top of his lungs.

I sucked on the tip hard, now lightly touching his base with my fingers, and he moaned louder and deeply, his hands gripping my hair so tight it started to hurt a little, but I didn’t mind much. I enveloped the tip with my tongue and ran my whole surface area over it, enveloping it with the warm flexible muscle. He whimpered breathlessly and bucked hard into my mouth, pushing more of him into me. I eagerly grabbed onto him and moved my mouth up and down on him, sucking hard and licking eagerly and just enveloping him with me. He trembled inside of me, his body throbbing and shaking with my every touch, growing so hard I found myself moaning just from the sensation of it.

“Oh – oh – Mags – Mags I’m gonna – Mags –“ he cried out, and sure enough warm, thick liquid shot up into my mouth and filled it up, and I quickly swallowed all of it as he moaned low and long, until all of it was inside my throat and he stilled underneath me. I looked up at him and crawled up his body back to his lips to kiss him; he groaned softly and stared at me lovingly in the dark.

“I love you so much,” he gasped out, and I could just make out his face in the darkness again, cupping his cheek in my hand and staring deeply into his eyes.

“I love you so much,” I responded eagerly, beaming at him happily in the dark. He smiled back weakly at me and proceeded to trail kisses down my neck and to my shoulder, pulling off my shirt and eagerly capturing my breast in his mouth. I moaned happily at the sensation and squirmed underneath him, his lips capturing my nipple and sucking on it long and hard. He then traced his lips over to the other and sucked on it too, making me squirm harder and writhe underneath him happily.

“Nev,” I gasped, reaching for his shoulders and holding to them tightly. He laughed softly and kept kissing down my stomach and making me tingle with excitement. He reached for my shorts and pulled them off of me, his lips trailing up my thighs and the feeling of him between my legs making me even more wet and excited. I immediately spread my legs as wide as I could, which made him groan softly, his lips trailing up into my folds and hesitating there. I shifted madly, my hips wiggling back and forth needfully as I waited for him to do something.

He placed a kiss on my clit, which was nice but not much; he kept kissing down to my vagina and hesitated again, making me groan with neediness. He kissed it and slowly pushed his tongue inside of it, but he just sort of awkwardly pressed it inside of me on the edge he knew was good, rubbing up against it somewhat and along it. It felt nice, but sort of awkward; I certainly wasn’t getting anywhere from it.

“Er…” I mumbled, shifting awkwardly and with embarrassment.

“Wha?” he asked, pulling out from there and looking at me nervously in the dim starlight.

“I… er… that doesn’t do much for me,” I muttered sheepishly. Neville blushed visibly in the dim light and went back in, his tongue now rubbing up against my clit, which was better; but certainly not fast enough for me. I rubbed my hips up against him hopefully but he kept slowly massaging it; I groaned again, not with pleasure but with need.

“What am I doing wrong?” he begged, looking up and frowning.

“I think – I dunno –“ I admitted sheepishly.

“Didn’t you do this? Didn’t people do this to you?” Neville asked in confusion.

“I _did_ do this, but I didn’t do much more than what you were doing – my tongue moved faster, maybe,” I admitted. He immediately dived back in and his tongue moved faster, but it still didn’t do much; I sighed and he grunted with annoyance against me.

“Did no one do this _to_ you?” Neville grunted as he tried flicking his tongue against me, which was at least faster, but such light pressure I barely felt it.

“No, I mean, I usually wanted fingering or, you know, that thing we haven’t done yet,” I admitted sheepishly.

Neville sighed and kept swirling around down there, which was just not enough – I could barely feel it, and I groaned as I slowly lost the horniness I had gained. Neville could tell and stopped, groaning with frustration against my thigh.

“I just think they were more sensitive than me,” I admitted, “I usually – it usually feels good when there’s – just – a _lot_ of you – like you’re moving really fast, or there’s a lot of fingers inside of me – that sort of thing, you know? This is very… light. Gentle.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, groaning, “Well this is demoralizing.”

“Oh come on,” I reassured, pulling him up by his shoulders and kissing him, “It’s okay, really!”

“But I want to do for you what you did for me,” Neville protested, looking demoralized.

“Oh love,” I sighed, gently tracing his face with my hand, “You do realize you make me feel _amazing_ when you do what you’ve already done, right?”

“Yeah,” he chuckled softly.

“Like, the thing is, when I touch you with my hands – I have to use lotion – it’s just kind of a workout – it’s just a mess,” I paused, “but when you use your hands you don’t need anything else, and you just reduce me to _putty_ – I think it’s my equivalent to what I just did for you already.”

“Well, I’d still like to try that again sometime, or practice at it or something – maybe I can get it to work,” Neville offered.

“That’s fine, but perhaps not in the middle of the night,” I giggled. Neville nodded, laughing and kissing me gently on the lips, making me smile and wrap my arms tightly around him. He wrapped his arms around me and kept kissing me, lightly grinding his hips against mine and making me gasp softly as I felt his now partially hard again penis rub against my leg. I whimpered as I felt him there, touching my skin and making my shiver madly. He grinned into my kisses and his hand traced down my waist and to my hips again, and I moaned eagerly into his mouth as his fingers lightly danced across my abdomen and slid between my folds, the middle one rubbing down my clit and making me squeak into his mouth with pleasure. He grinned even more and kissed me furiously, making me moan as his fingers went up inside of me, two of them now drumming up against me as his palm rubbed up against my clit.

“Nev,” I moaned loudly, overcome with pleasure and bucking into his hand happily. He groaned softly in response and started squeezing my breast with his free hand, making me moan louder and buck harder. It felt so uncommonly good that I could barely think, my head falling back into the pillows as I moaned and arched into him. He trailed kisses down to my neck and began sucking eagerly on the skin, making me light up with pleasure there, too. Three different sensations, and he began rubbing his penis up and down my leg again, making me whimper with overwhelming pleasure as I rapidly bucked my hips into his hand.

“Nev,” I groaned again, my voice breathless and airy, “Oh Nev.” He growled softly into my neck which was a sound I wasn’t used to hearing from him; my eyes widened with surprise as he started nibbling on the skin, making me moan loudly again and I clawed at his back with my hand. He picked up the pace of his drumming at that, his fingers moving rapidly inside of me and his palm rubbing up against me so hard I couldn’t feel much else. He slid another finger inside of me and I cried out at the top of my lungs, my left hand clutching at his shoulder tightly and my right gripping at his arm that was massaging my breast. He lightly ran his thumb over my nipple and trailed circles around it, making me whimper and hump his hand harder with need.

“Oh, oh, Nev, oh,” I cried out as he drummed his fingers hard and fast against me, pushing up into my wall as much as it would yield and as fast as he could muster, my eyes rolling back into my head with pleasure at the sensation, “Oh, Nev, oh.” He growled again, and started sucking so hard on my neck that I screamed, “Neville!” at the top of my lungs, unable to stop myself. He moaned and his pinky finger was inside me now, too; his penis was hard and long against my leg as it rubbed up against it, and I shivered madly underneath his every touch as I started to get close, everything building up on top of each other and overwhelming me with pleasure.

“Oh, oh, oh, Neville, Neville, Neville, Neville –“ I repeated, screaming repeatedly now and shaking and arching underneath him, my body contorting into his as with one last rub I finally exploded around him, tumbling down and squeezing him with all of my muscles as I cried out his name at the top of my lungs without control, shivering madly in his arms and finally collapsing against the bed.

He chuckled softly, kissing me on the lips lightly as I panted underneath him, my breath and heartbeat slowing at last.

“There we go,” he laughed softly, and I giggled, kissing him on the nose.

“I don’t need more than that,” I laughed in return, beaming from ear to ear.

**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**~**

 

“No, I suppose not,” he chortled, kissing me on the lips again, “I hope you didn’t wake up the castle.”

“Oi!” I giggled, swatting him on the arm, “At any rate, McGonagall put silencing charms on our room.”

“Ah,” Neville blushed madly, “Well, then.”

“Let’s leave it at that,” I flushed in return, “I love you, Neville.”

“I love you Maggie,” he smiled gently, kissing me on the lips, “Thank you for reaffirming your being alive.”

I laughed again, “Anytime.”

He giggled and nuzzled his head into my shoulder, pressing his lips and cheek and nose into my skin. I lovingly stroked his hair as we both returned to sleep, happily wrapping my arms around him as I fell into a very satisfied slumber.

The next day, we wandered together to Defense hand in hand, him looking happier than I had seen him in a while, which I fully chalked up to my helping him through the nightmares. The thought made me so proud I practically skipped down the hallway with him, my heart filled with joy as my ponytail swayed back and forth behind me.

“You’re adorable,” Neville laughed as I turned to beam widely at him.

“You are also adorable,” I grinned, and he pulled me in for a long kiss in the middle of the corridor, making me smile into his embrace. We then resumed walking to Defense, but we were much too early – Sirius wasn’t even in the classroom.

“Well, crap,” I laughed.

“This is what we get for not having potions,” Neville chuckled, “We get _bored_.”

“Only so many times I can study charms,” I giggled.

“You’re going to regret that at exam time,” Neville rolled his eyes as we took our seats.

“Eh, I regret lots of things, that’s a relatively minor occurrence,” I beamed. Neville rolled his eyes and planted a loving kiss to my temple, wrapping his arm around my shoulder.

The door to the office above us opened; I looked up expecting to see Sirius, but instead it was Lupin.

“Professor Lupin!” Neville and I greeted in unison.

“Oh! Hello,” he greeted, his entire face flushing madly.

“What’s up? Why are you here?” I asked curiously.

“Er… just… meeting with Sirius,” he responded awkwardly, reaching up behind his head to scratch at the back of his head nervously.

“Remus, love, you left your – shite,” Sirius ran out then, carrying a book, and looking at Neville and me in surprise.

“ _Love_?” we both asked in unison, my mouth dropping open.

“Bloody hell,” Lupin groaned, holding his face in his hands.

“I… could have… thought that through better,” Sirius muttered, his face flushing in embarrassment.

“Are you two a couple?” Neville asked eagerly, and I grinned as well, my face pulling into a wide smile.

“Er… I suppose the cat’s out of the bag,” Lupin flushed.

“Yes,” Sirius nodded, still blushing, “Er, we have been for nearly a year.”

“You’re kidding!” we shouted in unison again.

“Why haven’t you told anyone?” I asked eagerly, my feet tapping against the stone floor.

“Mostly because we didn’t want to draw attention to it,” Lupin admitted.

“Also, you know, our generation isn’t as accepting as yours is of the whole gay thing,” Sirius sighed, “We still have a lot of fears.”

“Well, I’m bisexual, but yes,” Lupin shrugged.

“Still, ours isn’t _perfect_ ,” Neville rolled his eyes.

“At any rate, you know none of the people in the Order or the people who care about you will judge, come on,” I grinned, “I’m so happy for you both!”

“Thanks,” they answered in unison, both still flushing with awkwardness.

“So this is why you’ve been at the castle so much, eh?” I asked Lupin, grinning cheekily. He blushed madly.

“And why you act weird all the bloody time! You’re always so secretive, it’s been _weird_ ,” Neville grinned. Sirius rolled his eyes at him.

“Yes, well, we wanted to keep the secret for a while, what can we say,” Lupin sighed.

“I suppose a year of privacy is enough, though, eh?” Sirius asked, looking at Lupin seriously.

“I don’t think we can keep this a secret any longer, no,” Lupin agreed.

“You know, I bet a lot of your students who are, you know, LGBT and such, would really appreciate to know you’re one of us,” Neville commented thoughtfully.

“I definitely think they would,” I agreed.

“I dunno, you two,” Sirius frowned.

“Well, I’m not really advocating for you to tell everyone just for no reason,” Neville paused, looking even more thoughtful.

“What are you suggesting, then?” Lupin asked curiously.

“I mean – I have watched quite a bit of muggle television, given my stints hiding out in London,” Neville paused, “You know, schools and things, they have – they have organizations for people like us. Called Gay Straight alliances.”

“Huh,” Sirius frowned in thought.

“And I mean, I wouldn’t want to call it that, because I’m not gay, and Maggie isn’t either, and plenty of people aren’t, but they’re still in that group of people who don’t conform to heterosexuality or cisgenderism, and, well, wouldn’t it be nice if we had a group? A club of some sort?” Neville turned to me eagerly, his face contorting into a wide grin, “I mean, half of what Umbridge did last year was _actively discriminate_ against people like us –“

“That’s true,” I agreed, beaming with him, “A support group – kind of like the group therapy, but just talking about what it means to be LGBT and everything, and talk about our experiences and what we go through and such –“

“Give out information on non heteronormative sex and sex education, talk about exploring gender and the differences between gender identity and gender presentation, offering support for those feeling down or marginalized for their orientation –“ Neville continued.

“It could be good – it could be _really_ good – and really beneficial – and it wouldn’t be DA specific, I mean so much of the school was affected by all that, it could be a good way to promote unity – “ I furthered.

“Slow down, guys, slow down,” Lupin interjected, and I turned to him eagerly, practically bouncing in my seat.

“I don’t know if that’s the best idea –“ he continued, but Sirius cut him off.

“Are you kidding? I think it’s brilliant,” Sirius paused, “I know you are nervous, but I think it _would_ be good for these kids after last year, and Hogwarts _does_ need a support system for people like us, it’s greatly lacking.”

“True,” Lupin admitted, “It’s just one thing to go from being out, finally, to leading an LGBT group.”

“Well, we might as well. Time is short,” Sirius paused, “Unless you don’t want to.”

“I do,” Lupin frowned, “I think. I’m not sure I’ll have time, with Order duties and all.”

“Well I can lead the group, and you can help when you can,” Sirius smiled slightly, “I understand.”

“That would work,” Lupin smiled back, “Alright, I’m on board, if Dumbledore is.”

“I think he will be,” Sirius rolled his eyes.

“Why are you so sure?” Neville asked curiously.

“Dumbledore is gayer than three rainbows in the same place,” Lupin answered immediately, rolling his eyes as well.

“You’re _kidding_ ,” we responded in unison.

“Not even a little. He’s just old and distracted with stopping Voldemort, you know, bigger picture things,” Sirius snorted.

“I had honestly no idea,” I laughed.

“It’s probably for the best that you didn’t, given he’s an authority figure significantly older than you,” Lupin laughed.

“At any rate, he should be on board. I’ll talk to him tonight,” Sirius smiled.

“I can’t believe this! I’m so excited,” Neville was bouncing up and down eagerly in his seat.

“I am too,” I reassured, gripping his arm, “This is a great idea, Neville, really.”

“Brilliant, even,” Sirius smiled.

“Yes, good job, Neville,” Lupin agreed. Neville flushed with embarrassment at all the praise, but he was still so excited that he bounced up and down, practically dancing in his seat.

“Well I best be off. Keep me posted, love,” Lupin smiled at Sirius. Sirius nodded and they kissed, and I grinned to myself, happy that these two men who had lost so much were happy. Lupin then left and Sirius began writing on the board for the day while Neville jumped up and down in more happiness.

“Are you going to be the student leader of this, or…?” I asked curiously.

“You know what, I might try to be,” Neville paused, frowning now, “I’d be really scared to, though.”

“I think you can do it,” I reassured, “I believe in you.”

“Thanks Mags,” Neville grinned, kissing me softly, “I always can count on you to.”

“Of course,” I grinned, “You’re amazing, and I think everyone should know how much.”

“So are you,” he smiled lovingly, “And I believe in you, too.”

“Oh _please_ keep that somewhere else,” Sirius laughed. I stuck my tongue out at him, but I was too excited.

This would really be a good thing for the school, and the prospect of it did not frighten me one bit. This wasn’t like group – it was _decidedly_ not my fault that anyone was LGBT, and I would love to talk to people about everything.

It was a kind of unity that we all really needed in the face of everything happening, and I found myself eagerly hoping that meetings would start soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the comments, guys; please leave more!! The good news is is that this is either the third to last or second to last chapter of September; there's definitely one more chapter, and I'm going to try and cram everything that's left to happen into it; but there's a chance it might have to be split into two, and I am quite sorry if that happens. BUT I PROMISE, NO MORE THAN TWO. And then FINALLY we can start October! Where stuff ACTUALLY STARTS HAPPENING. Hooray! Get excited! And please comment! They've been wonderful as always and the longer and more, you know, book-report like they are, the more I'm driven to write! Thanks!


	93. Chapter Ninety-Two: September 26-28, 1996, Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "And it's my whole heart  
> Weighed and measured inside  
> And it's an old scar  
> Trying to bleach it out  
> And it's my whole heart  
> Deemed and delivered a crime  
> I'm on trial, waiting 'til the beat comes out  
> I'm on trial, waiting 'til the beat comes out 
> 
> Who's a heretic now?  
> Am I making sense?  
> How can you make it stick?  
> Waiting 'til the beat comes out  
> Who's a heretic, child?  
> Can you make it stick, now that I'm on trial  
> Waiting 'til the beat comes out."  
> ~ Florence and the Machine, "Which Witch".

Chapter 92: September 26 – 28, 1996, Hogwarts

Dumbledore almost immediately approved the idea for an LGBT club; Neville got to work the next day making posters and eagerly designing them with colorful, rainbow letters.

“So we have DA meeting on Saturday – maybe Friday then? I think Sirius said he was good with Friday,” Neville rushed.

“I think Friday is perfect,” I agreed, smiling somewhat, “Do you know how you’re going to organize it?”

“I was hoping Sirius would have ideas,” Neville blushed furiously, instantly looking terrified.

“I think Sirius is expecting you to be the leader, and him the supervisor,” I reminded kindly, reaching out to hold his shoulder in my hand and rub it with my thumb.

“Dammit,” Neville groaned, “Well, I guess, I guess – I don’t know – I mean different issues affect you if you’re trans, or not heterosexual, or not heteroromantic, don’t they?”

“True,” I agreed, “Maybe split people up?”

“I… hmm,” Neville paused, frowning and holding his stubbly chin in his hand, “Well, what if we sort of had a rotation? Because people can overlap – they can be in more than one thing – so like, have one week be a general meeting, the next week be for gender issues and biological sex issues, for intersex folks, then the next week be about sexuality, and then the next romantic orientation, and then general meeting again?”

“That would be good to start out with, and it might be perfect,” I grinned, “It’s a good idea Nev.”

“Thanks Mags,” Neville smiled widely, leaning in and kissing me, “Oh I hope it works out.”

“It should be a good club,” I paused, “I think it’ll do a lot of good for a lot of people.”

“Thank you love,” Neville said again, smiling wider and pulling me in for a longer kiss by the back of my head. I sighed happily into his lips and slid down off the bed into his lap; he squeaked with surprise and held me tightly in his arms, wiggling a little with happiness as he covered my face in small kisses.

Between my helping him at night and this, he seemed to be doing amazingly well; it made me feel better as a result.

On Thursday, during my next Spellweaving lesson, I wandered into the room and sat next to Sam, who smiled weakly at me.

“Doing better after Monday?” he asked curiously.

“Yeah,” I sighed, “Sorry about that.”

“Eh, I saw it coming a mile away. I also saw it coming literally as the meeting began; you were shaking like a leaf and anyone could see that,” Sam rolled his eyes.

“Yeah,” I sighed, “Ah well.”

“You going to Neville’s new queer club though?” Sam asked, grinning slightly.

“Well yeah, why wouldn’t I?” I laughed, “This is a distinctly different situation.”

“Fair,” Sam agreed, rolling his eyes, “Still, I didn’t know if your current iffiness was about that particular situation or just, groups talking about problems in general.”

“Nope, it’s only problems I feel personally responsible for,” I sighed.

“Good to know,” Sam frowned, looking troubled. At that moment Hermione walked into the room, looking at me angrily and sitting as far away as possible. Sam next to me groaned.

“Why can’t she just admit she made a mistake?” Sam grunted.

“Because she’s Hermione,” I muttered irritably. Ernie walked in and saw the scene, rolled his eyes, and sat in between Hermione and I.

“This cannot go on forever, you know that right,” he begged, looking at me in annoyance.

“It’ll end when she apologizes!” I hissed under my breath. Hermione harrumphed and stared straight ahead.

“You acted immaturely,” she stated calmly.

“Oh for the love of Merlin!” I shouted, “You _know_ I couldn’t help how I acted!”

“Hermione, come on,” Sam sighed, “You know she wasn’t ready for that.”

“I do _not_ –“

“You do too! Don’t be an idiot!” Sam shouted.

“Don’t you yell at me for her acting ridiculously!”

“You are all acting like children!” Ernie hissed.

“I feel personally responsible for all of that crap and I don’t have to sit through people talking about it until I can sort out my own emotions and fully understand them!” I stated angrily.

“She has a point,” Ernie admitted.

“Oh come _on_ , not you _too!_ ” Hermione shouted.

“Hermione, you’re not acting very rationally right now,” Sam sighed, shaking his head.

“You’re upset that Harry yelled at you,” I muttered, “I haven’t even done that.”

“Harry _and_ Neville!” Hermione responded irritably.

“Of course Neville yelled at you, he thought that Maggie had run away! Cut him some slack, he’s been on edge ever since… you know,” Sam sighed. Hermione frowned, staring at her hands.

“And Harry is having the same guilt problems I am, I’m sure he was yelling because he didn’t want to be there, either,” I reminded.

“He has to _deal_ with them –“

“That wasn’t the forum to do so!”

“Then what is!”

“I dunno! Maybe that forum but _months_ from now when we’ve processed our emotions?” I responded angrily.

“Rushing them isn’t going to help anything,” Ernie agreed sadly.

“Maggie has refused to make _any_ progress –“

“I saw McGonagall on Tuesday, thanks! And honestly Hermione I’ve been overwhelmed with elementalism crap and you _know_ it! And I couldn’t make progress with Shae because she’s my _personal friend_!” I glared at her, “Why are you blaming me for things outside my control?”

Hermione glared back at me angrily.

“I’m not just going to _instantly_ go back to normal –“

“Oh please, if I was hoping for that I would have tried to make you act normal last year –“

“Then why the hell are you rushing me?”

“Because this has gone on too long, and the war is picking up, and you need to be ready for it!”

“I’m working on it! Don’t force me into situations that make me have _panic attacks!_ ”

“How was I supposed to know you were having a panic attack?”

“Simple human observation! You have plenty of panic attacks yourself!”

“Guys, shut up, Flitwick’s coming,” Sam muttered. I immediately turned to my pile of books and grumbled angrily, staring at them intently and away from Hermione.

The lesson went by in a blur and I ran out of there as fast as I could, too pissed off with her to really want to stay any longer than necessary. As I ran through the corridor, I paused and took a deep breath, grumbling angrily to myself as I stood next to one of the suits of armor.

 _Come on, Hermione_ , I thought grumpily, looking in irritation at my fraying trainers.

I didn’t _like_ fighting with her, especially now, but she was acting _ridiculous_.

I kicked the suit of armor angrily, the armor ringing loudly through the corridor. As it quieted, I heard another sound – someone _crying_.

_What the hell?_

I crept around the corridor towards the sound – in the next corridor over there was a small dent in the wall, and someone was sitting in it. I crouched close to the wall, looking to se if the person would turn so I could see their face – they had their head in their hands and with the generic Hogwarts robes, I couldn’t damn well tell who it was.

The person looked up and wiped off their eyes –

_Malfoy?!_

I felt my mouth drop open as Malfoy sniffled and stood up, glaring down at the ground and rushing down the opposite end of the corridor away from me, his robes billowing out behind him.

_What the damn hell?_

My confusion preoccupied me the rest of the day and into the evening, as I tried to power through some Arithmancy problems next to Neville in the evening. The two of us were studying in the Room of Requirement with Harry, but it just wasn’t the same without Hermione.

I groaned loudly and muttered, “I just can’t focus on this.”

“What’s up, Mags?” Harry asked idly, focusing intently on potions homework.

“You need to focus on Slughorn crap,” I rolled my eyes.

“Oh yes, _need_ to focus,” Harry muttered angrily.

“Are you going to join that weird club he started?” Neville laughed.

“Oh Merlin,” Harry groaned.

“See, this is why you should have said ‘oh hell no’ when he asked you in the summer, rather than maybe,” I grinned.

“I couldn’t think fast enough!” Harry muttered.

“Nor could I, but Maggie was enough to get me through _that_ awkward encounter,” Neville praised, beaming at me. I grinned back and kissed him on the cheek.

“Oh bloody hell, I hope Hermione apologizes soon,” Harry groaned, holding his face in his hands.

“Did she say yes? I forget,” I frowned.

“I don’t think so. The man is… patronizing. I mean come on, ‘you’re an amazingly talented witch for a muggleborn’? What the fuck is up with that? It’s anti-muggle prejudice just it _seems_ nice so it’s harder to be like _fuck you_ ,” Harry rolled his eyes.

“So why haven’t you said no yet?” Neville laughed.

“Because Dumbledore wants me to do it,” Harry muttered angrily.

“You’re kidding,” I frowned.

“Why?” Neville asked.

“He says I need to stay on Slughorn’s good side. I dunno,” Harry groaned.

“Maybe Slughorn knows stuff about the Death Eaters? I mean he was head of Slytherin for _ages_ ,” Neville offered.

“He probably taught Voldy pants himself,” I agreed.

“That’s what I figure, it’s still kind of hard to cozy up to the slimeball, though,” Harry sighed.

“Well, if you need to to get rid of Voldy, you gotta do it mate,” I nodded.

“Thanks for your rousing support,” Harry rolled his eyes, “Weren’t we talking about why you were distracted?”

“Oh, right,” I sighed, “I… I saw Malfoy crying today.”

“ _Malfoy?_ ” Harry asked in shock.

“ _Crying?_ ” Neville furthered.

“Yeah,” I frowned, “He was basically sobbing into his hands in the corridor, sitting on the ground and shite. He then got up and walked away.”

“You know, Malfoy’s been acting pretty weird lately,” Neville commented thoughtfully, his brow creased in concentration.

“He’s extra dickish,” Harry agreed, “Won’t lay off Hermione and me in Potions.”

“Same with us, Sam, and Ernie in Spellweaving,” I sighed.

“The few times I’ve had the displeasure of interacting with him outside of, you know, the super large NEWT classes we share, he’s been ruder than usual,” Neville furthered.

“Wonder why?” Harry asked.

“Aging?” I joked.

“No but this is an exponential growth rate,” Harry frowned, “There’s gotta be another reason for it.”

“Maybe Malfoy is just emo,” I laughed.

“Oh come on,” Neville sighed, “It’s something more than _that_.”

“Well why would Malfoy be crying?” I rolled my eyes.

“His dad lost all of their money,” Harry joked.

Neville frowned at him, “That might not be off.”

“Oh come off it –“

“No seriously! His dad completely fucked up the mission last spring, didn’t he?” Neville offered.

“True,” Harry frowned, “You think Voldemort’s punishing Malfoy for what his dad did?”

“I’ve heard of crazier things,” Neville paused, “Could be he’s punishing the dad by making Malfoy do something.”

“Something he can’t do, probably,” I agreed.

“What kind of crazy task would Voldemort give Malfoy Junior that he couldn’t succeed at?” Harry laughed.

“Why should it be he can’t succeed?” Neville frowned.

“Well if he succeeded it wouldn’t be much of a punishment for Malfoy Senior, would it?” I laughed.

“Fair,” Neville rolled his eyes.

“Maybe he told him to kill Harry,” I joked.

“Nah, Voldemort wouldn’t risk that. He’s _obsessed_ with killing me,” Harry rolled his eyes, “No, it would be something that he’s sure that Malfoy won’t succeed at, but ya know, on the off chance he _does_ succeed, it would be something he’d _want_ Malfoy to have done.”

“That was a hell of a sentence,” I rolled my eyes.

“Made sense though,” Neville snorted.

“So how do we find out what Malfoy’s up to?” I laughed, “Or even if he _is_ up to something?”

“Let’s spy on him,” Harry grinned, and I grinned back at him eagerly.

“You both are mental,” Neville frowned, “It’s clear he’s overwhelmed with _whatever_ he has to do.”

“So?” we asked in unison.

“So, maybe we should just _ask_ him?” Neville rolled his eyes, “Try to get him to join our side because it’s clear Voldy is a terrible dude and he’s in over his head?”

“ _You’re_ the mental one,” Harry snorted, “He’d never do that.”

“No way,” I agreed.

“Oh come off it,” Neville frowned, “The Death Eaters are terrifying and he’s effing _crying_. I bet he’s scared out of his mind.”

“Doesn’t mean he’d switch over,” I rolled my eyes.

“We should still _try_ , if we can succeed then we might find out what they’re trying and gain insights into Voldy,” Neville insisted.

“Nah mate, it’s too dangerous. He could pretend to be listening and then lure you into a trap,” Harry shook his head rapidly, “Not worth it.”

“I just think this is an opportunity we could take!” Neville insisted.

“You’re being naïve,” I stated simply. Neville looked at me in shock.

“You’re being too heartless,” he retorted. We stared at each other with wide eyes. Harry’s mouth had dropped open.

“I’m being _pragmatic!_ ” I shot back.

“Well I’m being _compassionate_!” Neville insisted.

“There’s being compassionate and getting yourself killed!”

“There’s being pragmatic and throwing someone to the dogs!”

“How can you talk about forgiving him after all the shite he’s done? To the people we care about? To _us?_ ”

“How can you not forgive him when forgiveness can do wonders? When a simple kind gesture can be the difference between a terrible person and a good one?”

“I can’t forgive him because of all the crap he’s done! Neville he’s _tortured you_ on _countless occasions!_ ”

“His dad probably tortured him!”

“You didn’t excuse Snape for that!”

“Snape is an _adult!_ Malfoy is a _child!_ ”

“He damn well knew what he was doing and saying!”

“I’m not saying I want to befriend him instantly, I’m just saying that taking a kinder approach might get him to talk!”

“And I’m saying I doubt it, and I think it’s dangerous to risk it!”

We stared at each other, huffing slightly with anger. I turned to see what Harry would say, but he had apparently left. I couldn’t blame him. I flushed madly and turned back to Neville, who was also looking at me awkwardly.

We had never really _fought_ since we became a couple – and every minor tiff before then we had quickly resolved.

“I’m… sorry,” I mumbled, “I don’t think we’re going to persuade each other.”

Neville frowned heavily, “No, probably not… but I don’t want to keep arguing with you.”

“Just promise me you won’t do anything stupid,” I begged.

“I promise,” Neville nodded rapidly, “I won’t do anything at all for a while. Who knows. Maybe it’s an angsty phase because his dad’s in jail.”

“Yeah,” I laughed weakly, “Maybe.” We stared at each other for a little while longer.

“I don’t like arguing with you,” I finally whispered.

“I don’t like arguing with you,” Neville agreed passionately, “It makes me more upset than whatever we’re arguing about.”

“I love you, and that’s much more important than one of us being right,” I continued.

“I love you, and I agree completely. We might both be wrong, we might both be right, one or the other, who knows – we shouldn’t fight,” Neville nodded rapidly.

“Especially for something like this, which doesn’t really affect _us_ as a couple too much,” I nodded equally rapidly.

“Exactly – I’m sorry Mags – I shouldn’t have called you heartless – I’m really sorry,” Neville mumbled.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have called you naïve! It’s okay, I forgive you,” I insisted.

“I forgive you, I do,” Neville agreed, pulling me in for a kiss, “We should… probably tell Harry everything’s okay?”

“Probably. Merlin, that was awkward for him, I feel terrible,” I grimaced.

“Yeah, let’s go,” Neville laughed weakly, and we walked out of the room holding each other’s hand tightly. I wasn’t even angry anymore – so strange for me – just worried that nothing good could come from this.

The next day I had my first meeting with Dr. Wilson. I walked up to the Hospital Wing nervously during my break, knocking hesitantly on the door for the new psychiatry room.

“Come in!” a crisp London accent greeted. I walked inside to face a woman with dark complexion and curly, poofy hair; her eyes were dark brown and they instantly met mine, studying me intently.

“You must be Elena’s sister Maggie. Please have a seat,” she greeted, and I sat across from her with nothing between us, just the two of us in chairs facing one another.

“So,” Dr. Wilson began, “Shae tells me you felt you could not confide in her because you felt like it would be a burden to her.”

“Yes,” I responded hesitantly, fidgeting with the end of my hair.

“Why did you feel this way?”

“Er…” I swallowed again, “Well, she’s my friend, and I didn’t want her to worry about me.”

“Did it not occur to you that it was her _job_ , in that moment, to worry about you?”

“That doesn’t mean I’d let her,” I muttered.

“Yes,” Dr. Wilson nodded, jotting things down on parchment, “Yes, I see. Do you often do this with people you care about?”

“Er… yeah,” I sighed.

“Is there anyone you _will_ let worry about you?”

“Certain people, who kind of don’t give me another choice,” I admitted.

“What do you mean by that? Wasn’t Shae not giving you a choice?” Dr. Wilson asked.

“I mean, they’re really close friends, and they know what happens when I get really bad, so they force me to talk about what’s going on,” I explained softly.

“What happens when you get really bad?”

“I… er…”

“Is this referencing what Shae has written as ‘self destructive behavior’ on this sheet?”

“Yeah,” I admitted.

“What sort of self destructive behavior?”

“Er… I got addicted to heroin for a while… and I once attempted suicide.”

“When did these incidents occur?”

“The heroin addiction in the summer of 1995… the suicide attempt last spring.”

“I take it two different mental spirals lead to these events?”

“Yes,” I admitted, “The first was due to the return of Lord Voldemort,” Dr. Wilson visibly flinched, “And due to the fact I was raped three days prior to the third task, in which I witnessed people being killed, and tortured. The second was due to the high stress situation of being on the run, and certain things said to me by my brother that triggered a mental spiral.”

“What did your brother say?”

“Er… he said that I didn’t actually know how to love people,” I admitted quietly.

“Why did he say this?”

“Because I kept from him that he was… I kept something important from him,” I explained.

“That’s a fairly extreme response to having something kept from him,” Dr. Wilson commented thoughtfully.

“I think… I think Shae said he has BPD.”

“Ah, yes. Well, your response was also extreme, in his defense.”

“Yes, and part of it was because I didn’t really talk to people about it.”

“So I take it you place a lot of importance on caring for others,” Dr. Wilson continued.

“Er… yeah,” I muttered softly.

“Why?” Dr. Wilson asked.

“I dunno,” I grumbled softly.

“You do know,” Dr. Wilson furthered.

“Because I think it’s the only thing I’m good at with other people? I don’t know,” I muttered.

“Why do you think that?”

“Why _wouldn’t_ I think that?”

“Please explain.”

“I’m not good at listening, except maybe with Neville and Harry and Hermione; I’m not good with empathizing at _all_ , I’m not good with helping people at all, I’m not good at talking or explaining myself unless I know something so thoroughly it’s like it’s falling out of my ears, I’m not particularly funny, or interesting, or creative. I just care, a lot, about the people around me, and that’s pretty much all I’ve got,” I mumbled.

“What makes you think you’re not good at other methods of human interaction? You simply listed them, you didn’t give me examples to back up your claims,” Dr. Wilson furthered.

“Oh come on! I don’t make people laugh, I don’t enrapture them with my stories, I don’t remember what people tell me half the time unless it’s one of those people I mentioned, I’m constantly arguing with others, I never let people justify their actions, I’m stubborn as all hell, I’m always angry and defensive, these are just – just observable facts!” I ranted.

“Why do you think these are just observable facts? Did someone tell you this is what you were like?”

“I mean, in bits and pieces, everyone has!”

“Is it possible that you are exaggerating your real flaws into being worse than they actually are simply because people have commented on them?”

“No! I mean, come on, I’ve _bitten_ people!” I hissed.

“Anger is not the same as not having other talents in human to human interaction,” Dr. Wilson was scribbling furiously on her parchment.

“I’m telling you, I’m terrible at it –“

“I think you’ve composed an image of yourself based on what other people have told you, but heightening the bad things and downplaying the good,” Dr. Wilson paused, “You mentioned Neville a few times, now. Do you honestly think the only thing you bring to the table in that relationship is caring about him?”

I frowned heavily. I knew I didn’t.

“You can’t ignore that with him as he is your closest confidant, but I guarantee it’s the same with the other people you care about, too.”

“Then why did I not have, basically, _any_ friends before fourth year?” I mumbled.

“You had plenty of friends – the Weasley twins, for example,” Dr. Wilson furthered.

“Yeah, that turned out _great_.”

“The way that relationship ended is not your fault, Maggie.”

I felt tears come from my eyes that I didn’t know I had been holding.

“I think that’s enough for today. We’ve made more progress than you and Shae had, which is good. Same time next week,” Dr. Wilson smiled slightly. I nodded and got up, wiping off my eyes and hobbling into the corridor. Neville was already waiting outside the Hospital Wing for me, looking worried.

“How did it go? Did it go better?” he asked rapidly wringing his wrists and shifting nervously. Blue was with him, which I appreciated; I leaned down to scratch her before kissing Neville softly.

“I think it went better, yeah,” I nodded, “It was kind of intense though.”

“That’s good,” Neville frowned, “I’ve found my sessions with Shae have been intense, too. I think it’s good.”

“It probably is,” I agreed softly, “I’m just tired now.”

“Well, we have the meeting tonight – are you going to be okay?” he asked nervously.

“Yeah I think so,” I agreed, “I just need to have a nice, relaxing Care of Magical Creatures lesson.”

“Hopefully no horrible wixen world realities will be revealed to you today,” Neville sighed.

“Oh hopefully,” I groaned.

Luckily, Magical Creatures went by without incident – perhaps Hagrid remembered the horrors of the week before, and kept everything as calm as possible. We worked with the Thestrals again and didn’t mention dying or death in the slightest.

Neville was nervous throughout the lesson and then dinner, shaking madly and wringing his wrists. I gently held his hand and squeezed it whenever he shook particularly hard; Harry frowned apologetically, especially since he couldn’t be there.

“I think you’re going to do great though, mate, really,” he reassured at dinner, “I know all the LGBT DA members are going to be there, so you’ll have plenty of friendly faces.”

“And plenty of _un_ friendly faces,” Neville groaned, holding his face in his hands.

“You can do this, it’s a great idea,” I reassured lovingly, kissing him on the arm.

“Sirius will be there to help, and so will Lupin this time,” Ginny agreed.

“After last year, the school’s atmosphere towards queer people is different. You’re going to be okay,” Dean reassured. Neville groaned louder.

“There’s so much pressure – _because_ of last year – this needs to go well - we need to show solidarity with each other –“

“And you you’ve already got that, don’t worry,” I murmured, kissing him now on the cheek.

“You have a great organization for the first meeting, you know what you want to say, you have so many resources – really, Neville, you’re overprepared,” Harry grinned.

Neville nodded, but his face was still pale and sweaty. I reached to squeeze his hand tightly and swallowed, hoping that things would go as swimmingly as Harry and the others thought.

We got to the room earlier than everyone else, using the DADA classroom as Sirius and Lupin were the faculty heads. Sirius was already putting up some banners and I set out some sign up sheets while Neville nervously reviewed his notes in a corner. Lupin was drawing a calendar on the chalkboard but paused in his task to pat Neville on the shoulder kindly, and Neville looked up at him with a weak smile. I paused in my own task to kiss him softly and he smiled more thankfully, his hands shaking slightly so that I reached for them and squeezed them tightly.

“You can do this,” I whispered.

“Thank you,” he choked out.

“We’ll be here the whole time,” Lupin reminded.

“Silent figures of serene authority,” Sirius joked.

“One of these days, you’re going to get into _huge_ trouble for lying,” Lupin rolled his eyes.

“Nah,” Sirius laughed.

Someone knocked on the door; Neville squeaked nervously as I ran to open it. Nadia and Ginny were beaming at me from the other side and trickled in, followed by a few more DA members. Neville relaxed at the familiar faces, wiping off his brow with his hand.

“Alright, please file in – we’ll cover signing up and stuff after we’ve talked,” Sirius beamed as more and more students came in – the room filled up with them to the brim. A young second year looked terrified at his surroundings; a third year looked like she was about to cry.

“Don’t worry, we’re here to repair the damage of last year,” Ernie walked up to the two of them and murmured softly.

“Who are you both, then?” I asked, though many more people were filing in.

“Miles Martinez,” the second year mumbled.

“Nina Jacobs,” the third year whispered.

“Both outed before they even knew they were nonbinary last year,” Ernie explained quietly.

“Bloody hell,” I groaned.

“It’s okay,” Miles whispered.

“No one’s going to hurt us here, are they?” Nina asked.

“No,” I promised softly, “No, I promise. This is a one hundred percent safe space for everyone.”

Both smiled weakly and went to sit with other young ones in a corner. There were only a few first years – probably only those who were binary-trans. There were some more second and third years, probably from last year’s hell, but the vast majority were in fourth year and up, to include those who understood their sexuality and romantic orientations better, no doubt.

“Well, welcome to Hogwarts’ LGBT club!” Sirius greeted, “I will be your faculty advisor for this club, and Neville here will be your student leader.” He clapped Neville on the back, but Neville was looking fairly sick and pale again. I swallowed, but I was sitting in the crowd, and couldn’t reach him.

“LGBT?” Ron asked, “No A for Asexual and Aromatic people?”

“Well, then, that’s our first order of business. What would we like to call the club?” Sirius amended.

“LGBTA?” Ron offered.

“Intersex people exist too, you know,” a person shouted from the back of the room.

“LGBTIA?” Sirius suggested.

“What about those who are figuring it out?” Nina mumbled.

“Questioning? A Q?” Ernie suggested.

“We could just call it Queer Club,” Sam snorted.

“That’s a slur!” someone shouted.

“Yeah, so _we_ get to use it!” Sam retorted.

“That’s not something everyone will be comfortable with,” Neville finally spoke up, sounding terrified but looking determined, “I think we should keep it to something simple.”

“LGBTQIA Club? Is that enough for everyone?” Sirius asked calmly.

“What about pansexuals?”

“Nonbinary people? Some of us don’t identify as trans –“

“Is polyamory a part of this?”

“The acronym can’t be horrifically long, guys,” Neville spoke up again, “It needs to be catchy.”

“Queer club is catchy,” Sam muttered.

“Not everyone is okay with that word and you know it,” I hissed back to him.

“What about the Alliance? You know, how this is based on Gay Straight alliances? Or the Hogwarts Alliance?” Dean offered, “Then you can explain underneath that it’s a club for those who do not conform to heterocisnormative society.”

“That works,” Neville agreed, “All in favor?”

A majority of hands went up into the air; Lupin wrote the name down on the chalkboard.

“Alright, well, now, er,” Neville stammered, swallowing heavily, “The way the club will work is like this – there are a lot of issues that affect all of us, but as we just saw, we’re a really – um – really diverse group and – and we need to focus on our diverse issues separately as well as together, you know? So every week will be a different, er, theme. The first week is the general meeting, then we have a week dedicated to gender issues which would include intersex issues as well as trans and nonbinary ones, and then the third week would be issues of sexuality, and then the fourth week issues of romantic attraction, including polyamory; that way the very different issues of asexuality and aromanticism can have their own weeks. Also during sexuality week we can talk about LGBT plus friendly sex education, if everyone wants – well, we can discuss that every week. Does… does this sound good to everyone?”

A general murmuring of agreement went up around the room. Neville looked more comfortable and relieved now.

“Great… er, at the end of the meeting you need to sign up for the weeks you want to come to – just so we can keep things organized and accepting, I mean, I’m sure no one here is bigoted, but people can be – I mean – not ever cis person who has a non-heterosexual sexuality or romantic attraction is… really good with trans issues, you know? So we have to be kind of… careful, if that makes sense,” Neville rambled.

“That’s probably a good idea,” Ginny admitted.

“But before then, er, are there any issues we really want to discuss this week? Kind of have be a theme in each group meeting?” Neville asked.

“How Umbridge’s hate affected us last year?” Ernie offered quietly.

“That’s a good one, yeah,” Neville agreed, and Lupin wrote it down on the board.

“What pressures we face from wixen society as opposed to muggle society at large?” Dean offered.

“Yeah, also good,” Neville nodded rapidly.

“What pressures we _still_ face from muggle society at large, even here?” Luna sighed.

“Yup, definitely,” Neville agreed.

“That should be good enough,” Nadia joked, and a laugh went up around the room.

“Alright, well, this first meeting won’t be much – we can even wait to have a major discussion until the next full meeting, I think that would be best – we could, basically, regroup and rehash what we talked about in each side meeting? Does that also make sense?” Neville offered. Another murmuring of agreement went up around the room, and Neville was looking increasingly relaxed and confident the longer this went on and the better it went.

“Well, then, the last thing is – in each week, we’ll have small group time, too, for specific things, and – and I’m not intersex, but I’m nonbinary, and I’m pansexual and panromantic. I think – I think each kind of general category should have a person to head the discussion. So for gender week, trans women, trans men, nonbinary, and intersex groups maybe? And for sexuality weeks, asexual, homosexual male, homosexual female – I mean you guys do face different problems – and multisexual? And for the romantic orientation weeks, same sort of structure as sexuality, though we can also bring up polyamory issues if we want? Does that all make sense?” Neville asked.

“One question – what if you’re questioning?” a fifth year Hufflepuff asked.

“Then just go to the meetings you think might be you – you can sign up for all three, if you want – but be respectful and listen, I guess?” Neville asked.

“That seems reasonable,” a fourth year Ravenclaw agreed.

“Er… so… how do we want to pick small group members for each of the different groupings?”

“Well obviously you have nonbinary, multisexual, and multiromantic,” Ernie laughed.

“Er, yeah, I guess,” Neville flushed.

“We could see who wants to do it, and if there are multiple people, have an election?” I offered, smiling lovingly at Neville, who grinned back at me nervously. A murmur of agreement went up around the room.

“Alright, er, who would want to do intersex meetings?” Neville began.

“I can do it, I guess,” that person from the back of the room spoke up – a fourth year Slytherin, with masculine features, looking like he wanted to look like he didn’t care, which was moderately amusing.

“Alright, er, what’s your name?” Neville asked hesitantly.

“Alex Bagshot,” he muttered.

“Thanks,” Lupin called, writing his name down on the board.

“Alright, er, trans women issues?” Neville continued.

“I can do it,” a fifth year Ravenclaw offered.

“Great, does anyone else, or…?” Neville asked, but no one else spoke up.

“Er, what’s your name?” Neville asked her nervously.

“Diana, Diana Quinn,” she offered, smiling at him. Lupin wrote her name up on the board.

“Alright, er, trans men?” Neville continued.

“I’ll do it,” Ernie and Ron spoke in unison. Neville laughed, and so did many DA members.

“Er, election then?” Neville offered. Ernie and Ron ran to the front of the room next to him.

“First – er – anyone else want to? No?” Neville asked as no one made a move. Some people even laughed at the suggestion.

“I think they got it covered,” someone shouted. More laughter went up around the room, and even Neville managed to chuckle.

“Alright, who votes for Ron?” Neville asked. Some hands went up in the air, but not a majority.

“Who votes for Ernie?” Neville continued. Many more hands went up, and Ron shrugged, grinning.

“What can I say,” Ernie laughed, “I was a figurehead last year.” Ron swatted him in the arm as Lupin wrote down Ernie’s name, and they both returned to the crowd.

“Okay great – er – does anyone want to do Nonbinary over me?” Neville offered. Another laugh went up around the room.

“Maybe you shouldn’t do the multisexualities? But you would do well with nonbinary,” Nadia laughed.

“Definitely,” Ginny agreed next to her.

“Alright then, I can see that,” Neville muttered sheepishly.

“I mean you’ve been in love with one person your whole life,” Sam laughed, “How much do you know about multisexuality issues?”

“A fair point,” Neville suck out his tongue, something he didn’t do much out of private; the room burst into laughter and he blushed furiously.

“Alright, then, moving on to sexuality then – who wants to take homosexual male issues?” Neville asked.

“I can, mate,” Seamus offered cheerfully.

“Alright then – anyone else want to, or -?” Neville asked, but no one offered. Lupin wrote Seamus’ name on the board.

“Homosexual women?” Neville continued.

“I can if you want,” a seventh year Gryffindor girl offered, Tara Pratchett.

“Anyone else want to either?” Neville furthered.

“Er, I might, maybe,” Katie muttered sheepishly.

“Oh you can if you want! I didn’t realize you wanted to!” Tara responded in equal embarrassment.

“No no, you probably should – I have Quidditch and DA stuff,” Katie shook her head.

“Okay, if you’re sure –“

“Yeah I am, no worries!”

“Anyone else want to?” Neville interjected, but no one piped up.

“Tara it is,” Neville smiled, and Tara smiled back widely as Lupin wrote her name on the board.

“Asexual and asexual spectrum people?” Neville continued.

“I’ll do it,” Hermione immediately stated, and I was surprised she was even there, but I guess our fight wasn’t _that_ big of a deal.

“Anyone want to either, or -?” Neville asked awkwardly, but no one spoke up.

“Alright, Hermione it is… Multisexuals?” Neville continued.

“I… I… um, can do it,” I muttered sheepishly.

“Haven’t you only dated two amab people?” someone asked accusatorily in the back of the room.

“Er, the second one is not a guy, so I don’t see why that matters, a, and b, I had an interesting summer two summers ago, which is why I’m offering for sexuality and not romantic,” I snapped back angrily. Ernie gave me an awkward look and I frowned at him.

“What?”

“Nothing, nothing,” Ernie shook his head sadly. I frowned at him as he turned away from me, genuinely confused.

“Also, there isn’t some sort of quota you need to fill before you’re a true multisexual, don’t be a dick,” Sam shouted.

“No, but leading a discussion group takes –“

“It takes understanding what it’s like, which she does, you nitwit,” Sam rolled his eyes.

“Anyone else want to do multisexuals?” Neville interjected before it got more heated, “I can verify Maggie has extensive experience, no worries.”

Sam snorted with laughter and I swatted him in the arm.

“No? Alright then, Maggie it is,” Neville smiled thankfully at me and I smiled back at him again.

“On to romantics – er – should we have a specific polyamory group, or just talk about it if it comes up?”

“The latter, I think,” a student in the back said, and many people muttered in agreement.

“Alright then… homoromantic men?” Neville continued.

“I can,” a seventh year Ravenclaw offered, “Unless anyone else wants to.”

No one else spoke up, once again.

“Sure, what’s your name?” Neville asked.

“Hector MacDuff,” he responded.

“Awesome,” Neville paused, “Homoromantic women?”

“I’ll do it,” Claire piped up, and I looked over at her in surprise. I had honestly not known this.

“Oh, awesome, good to have younger people leading groups – anyone else want to, or are we all good with Claire?” Neville offered, but no one spoke up.

“Wonderful. Aromantic people?” Neville continued.

“Can I do _that_ one?” Ron shouted, and a laugh went up around the room.

“I don’t see why not, unless anyone else has a burning desire –“

“Nah, let him have it,” someone shouted and more laughter went up.

“Ron it is,” Neville grinned, and Lupin scrawled his name on the chalkboard.

“Multiromantic, last one?” Neville finished.

“I can do it,” Hannah offered sheepishly.

“Sure!” Neville beamed, “Unless, again –“

“Nah, I think we’re good mate,” Sam chortled.

“Then Hannah it is,” Neville laughed, “That’s good. So we have Alex, Diana, Ernie, me, Seamus, Tara, Hermione, Maggie, Hector, Claire, Ron, and Hannah. Everyone on board with this? Looks like we have a good house mixture, too, which is excellent.”

Another murmuring of agreement went up around the room.

“Lovely,” Neville swallowed, “Now, I think the last thing is – are there any events and such maybe we want to plan for? Maybe people who would want to plan such events?”

“We could have parties,” Ginny offered, grinning.

“That would be nice – an alternative to heteronormative slop,” Neville said before he could stop himself, making people laugh again, and not at the fact that he blushed furiously.

“Er – we could have one in December? For Christmas?” Sam offered.

“Sure – who wants to plan that?” Neville asked.

“I can,” Ginny beamed.

“Everyone okay with Ginny being the party planner?” Neville laughed. A murmur of agreement went around the room and Lupin wrote it on the board.

“We could also have a pride parade,” Elena, who I had _not_ realized was there, offered sheepishly. I looked over at her in shock and she looked away from me, blushing even more furiously.

“Where? Hogsmeade?” someone snorted.

“I was thinking Diagon Alley, actually,” Elena flushed.

“Do you want to plan it? I think that’s a brilliant idea,” Neville beamed, and she flushed more.

“No, no, I don’t – I don’t want to,” Elena mumbled.

“I can just be the even organizer if you want, Neville,” Ginny offered.

“Sounds good, unless anyone objects,” Neville shrugged. A murmuring of agreement with the idea went up around the room.

“Excellent. Well I think that’s everything – next week will be gender week, same time and place, and don’t forget to write down your name on the lists for the weeks you want to go to before you leave, or else you won’t be allowed to come, okay? Great. Thanks for coming everyone,” Neville beamed, and everyone hobbled towards the lists as I ran up to Neville.

“That was great, Nev,” I beamed happily, “You did excellently.”

“Thanks Mags,” he responded, kissing me softly on the cheek, “Not done yet, though. Someone could muck up the sheets.”

“True,” I agreed, and I watched the sheets like a hawk, having already written my name down before the meeting actually started. Everyone signed up quietly, though, and left, giving us kind farewells as they did so. I beamed at Neville again and he beamed back wildly, kissing me passionately even though Lupin and Sirius were still there.

“I did it!” he shouted happily, and I laughed with him as he started dancing eagerly around the room.

“You did!” I agreed.

“Once again, great job, Neville,” Lupin praised.

“Definitely a great start,” Sirius agreed.

Neville ran up to me and actually spun me around, making me shout in surprise, but he couldn’t contain his happiness – and frankly, I didn’t want him to.

It was on this high we went to the first _huge_ DA meeting the next day, clearly excited and read to take on anything after such a good start. We had the DA in the afternoon so more people would come; the Great Hall was literally _packed_ with people as we filed in, which amazed me.

“I hear yesterday went well!” Harry greeted as we came up to the front of the room.

“Better than well! Neville was practically a different person, it was great!” Ernie praised.

“Not that your normal self isn’t great,” Sam hit Ernie in the arm and he winced.

“No, no, I mean – I mean you really stepped up, Neville, it was inspiring, that’s all!” Ernie amended.

“I got it, it was Sam who was too sensitive,” Neville joked, and Sam rolled his eyes at him.

“Everyone, everyone!” Ernie greeted, “Settle down, settle down – the first meeting of the new DA shall commence now –“

“Shouldn’t we have a new name? If we have a different goal than you did last year?” a voice piped up in the back.

“Good point!” Ernie agreed, “What about the Teenage Rebellion?”

A chorus of approval went up. It was a good thing I had jokingly suggested that already once last year.

“Great! Now we should get started – discussing issues we want to tackle for awareness!” Ernie continued.

“How about the Wizarding community is racist as all hell?” Dean joked. A bunch of people in the crowd laughed appreciatively.

“I mean it’s an important point,” Hermione sighed, running to the blackboard we stole from McGonagall’s classroom and writing on it, “Employment levels in the ministry of white wixen are twice as high as levels of wixen of color.”

“What do most wixen of color do for jobs then?” someone asked.

“Run shops,” Hermione sighed, “Most actually work for muggles, which gives them much lower pay – in the sense that the conversion rate for muggle money is _terrible_ and they lose a _lot of it_ and can’t pay much for wixen items.”

An angry cry went up around the room.

“And Muslims hardly ever go to Hogwarts,” Nadia murmured quietly.

A hushed silence went out over the room.

“What od you mean?” someone asked meekly in the back.

“I mean,” Nadia took a deep breath, “There’s a reason I’m one of only a few.”

“Please, explain more,” Sam begged.

“Wixen culture _revolves_ around Christianity in Britain,” Nadia paused, “I mean our only school _celebrates Christmas_. Very few Muslims come here because frankly we get ostracized for wearing our traditional garments – they’re not in uniform, after all! – and for praying five times a day and wanting to know _where we are_ so we can turn _towards Mecca while we pray_.”

The room was so silent you could hear a pin drop.

“I’m here because it’s the only way to get a decent Wizarding world job,” Nadia sighed, “Most of my people are taught at home.”

“To be honest – and I’m not derailing you – many wixen of color are taught at home for similar reasons,” Hermione frowned, “But I remember reading somewhere that Muslims have one of the lowest rates at Hogwarts, compared to actual wixen population.”

“Also, most wixen of color who _do_ come here are muggleborns _because they don’t know any better_ ,” Sam sighed, “Those with at least one wixen parent are those who get to refrain.”

“I’m not a muggleborn, but I’m the first in my family to come here in five generations,” Nadia sighed, “We’ve been British a long time, but Muslims longer… I wanted to get out of the poverty hole we’ve been in for years.”

“This contributes to muggleborn prejudice, too!” Dean shouted, “We’re more diverse _automatically_ than the purebloods!”

Shouting went up around the room in anger.

“It also makes the Ministry much more white. After all, there are thousands of laws in place that make it nearly impossible for muggleborns to get jobs or be promoted,” Susan sighed.

“All these systems of oppression build on each other and are decidedly propped up by the Ministry,” Hermione agreed.

“The Ministry’s corruption and racism runs _extremely_ deep,” Sam sighed.

“So how do we get saved from all this crap?” someone shouted.

“You-Know-Who is a natural product of this hate, you said so yourself!”

“We can’t change this for everyone overnight!”

“There are simple answers to the Voldemort problem,” Hermione shrugged, “We’re here to focus on the Ministry, and Wixen society on the whole.”

“What _simple answer_?” someone demanded, and the room began muttering mutinously.

I looked over at Harry and he looked over at me silently. The silence spread to everyone else at our significant look.

 _They deserve to know_.

Harry nodded in agreement; looking around, he saw most other DA members nodding, too.

“Er… there’s a prophecy,” Harry finally admitted.

“That shite? It’s never true,” someone snorted.

“Nah mate, crap Trelawney just spurts out her arse is never true,” Harry shook his head rapidly, “I’m talking about real prophecy – like the seer enters a damn trance.”

“What was the prophecy?”

You could hear a pin drop again.

“That the person who would defeat Voldemort would be born as the seventh month died – aka, end of July – in 1980,” Harry explained simply, “Born to people who had defied Voldemort – aka faced him and lived – three times. And Voldemort would mark this person as his equal, but he’d have a power Voldemort didn’t have, and neither can live while the other survives, so one will have to kill the other in the end.”

The silence continued eerily.

“So… you?” a meek voice asked.

“Yes,” Harry sighed, “I’m confirming the chosen one rumors. Mostly so they stop being rumors.”

More tittering went up in fear.

“But what if the Death Eaters find out?” someone asked, “They could come after you.”

“That list you all signed means we’ll know immediately if one of you betrays us,” Hermione stated calmly.

“This counts as betrayal,” Ernie agreed.

“You deserve to know this,” Harry sighed, “Especially since it has ramifications for the war.”

“Are we sure it’s you?” someone asked timidly.

“It has been ever since Voldemort tried to kill me,” Harry shrugged.

“Could it have been someone else?” another person asked curiously.

“Yeah, me,” Neville sighed, “But Voldemort didn’t pick me. Thank god.”

A collective laugh went up around the room.

“And me,” Sam muttered so quietly we almost didn’t hear him.

“What?” Hermione asked sharply, “There was no mention of –“

“Well… back to the theme of racism,” Sam sighed, “When the prophecy was made, the person who heard the prophecy – Dumbledore – knew instantly it could have applied to Neville, Harry, or myself. He told the Ministry of this. The Ministry decided I wasn’t born late enough in July..”

“When were you born?” Ernie asked in shock.

“July 29th,” Sam scowled.

“How is that _not late enough_?” I shrieked.

“It is,” Sam shrugged, “My Aunt did some digging after the fact. Turns out they decided to not include me in the prophecy because they didn’t think I could do it.”

“Because… you’re Korean and Japanese?” Ginny whispered.

“Well, I’m sure they put it as ‘generic Asian,’ but isn’t it convenient that the two people who they _did_ put on the prophecy record happen to be white?” Sam rolled his eyes.

Hermione’s mouth had dropped completely open in shock, looking at him in amazement.

“I’m sure they didn’t want the champion of the good guys to look like me,” Sam finished.

A deadly silence went throughout the hall, before suddenly an uproar overtook that silence, killing it violently. People were shouting and screaming at an enemy that wasn’t there – this wasn’t out of character for them, after everything that had been revealed last year. It wasn’t a leap of logic to believe this. I was hardly surprised; just filled with anger, seeing red at the tips of my vision. Neville immediately ran to me and calmed me.

“See! Do you all see, now?” Hermione roared, “Do you all see how the Ministry is? They’d rather we all _die_ than have a minority be our savior! They’d rather have a crap government than let muggleborns be in charge! They’d rather have all trans people be swept under the rug than acknowledge their existence!”

People were shouting with her; it was absolute pandemonium.

It was rebellion.

“Harry probably can save us. Harry _will_ save us, and he has time and time again. But what does this say about the Ministry, when they couldn’t have possibly known this back then? What does this say about them, that they might have ignored the person who could save us? What if Harry wasn’t white? Would they have just said _no this is not about you_ even if Voldemort had marked him?” Hermione shrieked, “How many times have they screwed us over?”

More roars of approval and agreement went up.

“It’s time it stopped! It’s time we took action! It’s time we stood up for ourselves and said _this is not how we want to live!_ ” she screamed, “And I am sure we are not alone!”

“Yes!” the crowd went up. I was overwhelmed by how many people were agreeing so vehemently with her.

“Come! Follow me!” she ordered, sweeping through the Great Hall. I looked at Neville in shock and he shrugged wordlessly at me, and we followed Hermione with everyone else out into the Entrance Hall, out of the castle, through the grounds, and out to Hogsmeade, even though it wasn’t a Hogsmeade weekend. No one tried to stop us – no one could have, such a large group as we were. People were shouting angrily, and Harry looked over at me in shock as we reached the main Hogsmeade street. People were milling about and shopping, but stopped to watch us – we were a spectacle, all in our Hogwarts uniforms and parading in unannounced.

“Attention people of Hogsmeade!” Hermione began. I watched her in terror, and Neville reached to hold my hand as tightly as we could as we stared at her.

“I am here to bring something to your attention!” she continued. The people in Hogsmeade all poked out from the shops and moved out to look at her, milling into the street and crowded there.

“Your government does not care about you!” Hermione began. Mutters went up from the crowd as they watched her in disbelief.

“Your Ministry does not care about you!” Hermione continued, “Your Ministry cares about keeping power in the hands of those who have it! Your Ministry cares about keeping the status quo what it is, but not about you! Not about your safety! And I know it!”

More muttering; I squeezed Neville’s hand tighter.

“Your Ministry would rather promote old rich purebloods than muggleborns! Your Ministry would rather all trans people disappear! Your Ministry has _constantly_ marginalized people of color to the point of _ignoring the existence of one_ even though he could have stopped Voldemort!” she shrieked.

People cringed and shouted in protest but Hermione would not be swayed.

“Your Ministry insures that people of color are not hired as much as white people! Your Ministry tortured its students last year for not complying to their ideal of humanity! Your Ministry attacked and nearly killed its students and sent them on the run for _daring to say Voldemort was back_ when they _fully well knew he was!_ ” Hermione screeched.

The truth of those words was so evidence that the protests nearly completely died down.

“You can like the status quo. You can agree with the Ministry. But the status quo – the Ministry – they benefit a minority! A tiny minority that would be _powerless_ without the support of us! Those they marginalize!” Hermione took a deep breath, swallowing.

“It would be one thing if we were just oppressed. It would be terrible, but it would be one thing. But the thing is is that this has directly lead to Voldemort’s rise to power. He thinks that the majority of us agree with the Ministry, because the Ministry lets it seem like we do – he thinks that we _want_ things to be this way, and he’ll go to _dramatic_ lengths to get it to be – murdering muggles, marginalizing muggleborns. But do we want this? No! But we can’t just say no to Voldemort – we have to say no to the Ministry too. Or do you want to be the next person they torture?” Hermione shouted.

A murmuring of agreement went up – not from the majority, but a good enough number; and the rest didn’t even look openly hostile.

“Stand with us! Say you’ll stand with us!” Hermione dug into her bag furiously and pulled out the DA list, “I cannot guarantee your safety. But this isn’t about _our_ safety. This is about the safety of generations to come! This is about making sure your children, and your children’s children, are not hurt and tortured like we were! This is about making sure that they live in a world safe from Voldemort! This is about _changing our world_ for the better, with real measures! This is about making our voices heard! If you’re with us – if you’re with Harry Potter – if you are with us against Voldemort and tyranny – then stand with us!”

All of us from Hogwarts started shouting in agreement with Hermione, and some of the Hogsmeade people started milling forward to sign her sheet of paper. Many left, looking at us like we were crazy – but it was at least a third, maybe even forty percent.

I turned to Neville in worry.

“Well, cat’s out of the bag now,” Neville sighed.

“It was time,” I shrugged, “It was.”

“I know,” Neville looked out in worry at those leaving, “But how many can we get to join us?”

I frowned and rung my wrists in nervousness.

I had no idea, but I knew that there would no longer be anything even remotely similar to peace and quiet for us.

The though thrilled me to my very core.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DO NOT WORRY! THIS IS THE END OF SEPTEMBER! The last two days nothing much happens, but in October - hoo boy - I think you're starting to see that shit is going to HIT the FAN. Thank you all for your lovely comments - I know this chapter was chaotic, but I had a lot to fit in - and frankly, things are going to be INCREASINGLY chaotic from here on out. Please please please comment, and I'll come back soon - I'm so excited for October you have no idea. Thanks for being awesome readers!


	94. Chapter Ninety-Three: September 29 - October 2, 1996, Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "One engine barely makes it away   
> One engine barely makes it away   
> Hold on, they're breaking their bonds   
> Hold on, they're breaking their bonds   
> One engine barely makes it away 
> 
> And the martyr line   
> It's a bitter pill   
> And the line of right   
> It will barely make you feel 
> 
> I'd like to get you in some kind of way   
> Some kind of trouble in some kind of way   
> Bear down, they'll run you aground   
> Bear down, they'll run you aground   
> We all must suffer awhile in a way"   
> ~ The Decemberists, "One Engine".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for gore and rape mention

Chapter 93: September 29 – October 2, 1996, Hogwarts

The next two days went by in relative quiet, but the sort of quiet where your teeth were completely on edge. News of our little rebellion spread throughout the country – but not via the papers. No, the Prophet was silent – probably because Minister Bones told them to be. It was pure word of mouth that carried Hermione’s words from person to person, a dull roar rumbling through the whole of Wixen Britain.

I knew I had to register. They wouldn’t let me get away with not for much longer; not with this. Still, nothing really happened in Hogwarts itself as September finally closed – the professors didn’t want to draw attention to what had happened, and neither did the Ministry. It was clear they wanted to pretend that it could go away.

I groggily walked down to breakfast on the first, leaning into Neville’s side and nuzzling up against it. I was tired and not really awake that particular morning as I sat down at the table; I barely registered that Harry’s face was paler than usual, which was really saying something.

“What’s up, mate?” Neville asked curiously.

“Let me guess, they’ve finally started reporting about us and are calling us hooligans and miscreants,” Ginny laughed, and I finally noticed he was holding a paper. Hermione was nowhere to be seen, which was strange, since she wasn’t really avoiding us so much as just not talking to us. I looked around for her, but I was so preoccupied by Harry’s strange expression, that I didn’t look around for her for long.

“I’m not reading the Daily Prophet,” Harry whispered.

“What are you reading?” I asked, frowning and rousing to awareness.

“Well I took out a Quibbler subscription,” Harry began, “Support Luna’s dad, you know – “

“Of course,” the three of us responded in unison.

“What could be bad in the Quibbler?” Ginny asked in amazement.

“I mean, it’s not so much that the Quibbler said something bad – in fact it’s quite good – it’s – it’s who it’s written _by_ ,” Harry managed to choke out.

“Who?” Neville asked, raising an eyebrow in confusion.

“I… I don’t want to say,” Harry whispered.

“You can’t make such a big fuss and then not say anything,” Ginny frowned.

“I can’t do it,” Harry shook his head rapidly. Ginny grabbed the paper out of his hand as he protested loudly; the moment she read what was on the page, her face paled too.

“Guys, go. Go now,” Ginny insisted.

“Go _where_?” I asked in shock.

“Just out of the Great Hall. I don’t want you to see this,” Ginny swallowed heavily.

“Come off it!” Neville shouted in disbelief.

“Please trust us,” Harry begged.

“Harry, we have to know,” I sighed, “Come on, it can’t be _that_ bad.”

“It is,” the other two said in unison.

“Then we need to know! Because it’s that bad!” Neville cried in exasperation.

“It’s an article on sexual education in the wixen world and how it’s terrible,” Harry stated simply.

“That’s good! What’s wrong with that?” I shouted.

“He said what was wrong with it was who wrote it,” Neville reminded me, frowning heavily.

“Who could possibly be so bad as to detract from that message? If it was someone saying the wrong thing, you’d be mad at the message!” I reasoned.

“No, they’re saying _exactly_ the right thing,” Harry shook his head.

“Wixen are never taught sexual education, nor methods of birth control; they aren’t taught about the signs of pregnancy and sexually transmitted diseases – though I bet the author doesn’t know about how we’re basically immune because magic is the greatest creator of privilege apparently – wixen are never taught about laws of consent and what constitutes consent, about alcohol and age and all the rest – wixen are never taught about LGBT issues and gender identity and sexual and romantic orientation – wixen are isolated from muggle forums that allow for healthy exploration of sexuality and sexual preferences – wixen are often pressured into marrying young and having children young despite having longer lifespans than muggles – it’s all good stuff,” Ginny commented, but she was scowling as she read through the article, her hand gesturing to the page as she went through it.

“I really don’t’ know what the problem is,” Neville sighed. I nodded with him, so confused my head was starting to hurt.

“Please trust us,” Harry begged.

“Harry,” I sighed, “You can’t hide this from me forever. I couldn’t hide that you were the chosen one forever, you can’t hide this.”

Harry looked at me for a long time, his face still as pale as snow. He looked over at Ginny, who had actual tears in her eyes. She shrugged, shoving the paper back at him.

Harry took a long, deep breath while staring at Neville and me. He crumpled up the Quibbler a little in his hand, almost as though to throw it away. I clenched my teeth in fury as he did so, knowing I could just – and _would_ just – ask Luna. He closed his eyes tightly and took a deep breath before handing the paper to Neville and me, his hand dropping it like a hot coal before returning to run furiously through his already extremely messy hair.

I picked up the paper and held it up to both Neville and my line of sight. The title of the article was just SEXUAL EDUCATION: THE WIZARDING WORLD’S LACK OF IT, AND HOW IT IS HURTING OUR CHILDREN. I scanned furiously for the byline, my heart trapped in my throat with dread as I did so.

_By George Weasley._

I dropped the paper like it was on fire. Neville roared in fury.

“I told you I didn’t want to tell you!” Harry protested feebly.

“How could he have written this from _Azkaban_?” Neville roared. My hands were shaking like leaves and I couldn’t get my heart to stop pounding rapidly and loudly in my ears.

“I don’t know! I honestly have no idea! There’s no explanation in that, just the article!” Harry shouted in response, looking completely ill. My mouth was dry and I couldn’t think straight.

“Why in the _hell_ would Lovegood publish something from him?!” Neville screeched.

My vision was cloudy and I felt like I was going to vomit.

“I don’t know, I haven’t seen Luna and I haven’t been able to ask her!” Harry groaned.

I cried out as finally what had been threatening to happen, happened – I was no longer at the Great Hall table – I was in the library – I was trapped underneath him in the library – I was shouting no at the top of my lungs before finally just submitting to it and not saying a word, just hoping it would be over soon – I was trapped – he was on top of me – I was trapped – I was trapped – I was trapped –

“Maggie! Maggie, snap out of it! Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, no, no, no –“

I quickly came back to reality, my vision practically zooming as I did so, rapidly returning to the Great Hall, to the present, to safety. I looked over, shaking madly, at Neville, who was looking at me in terror and fear.

I turned around and vomited on the stone floor directly behind me. Shouts and protests in disgust went up around the hall; Neville quickly took out his wand and cleared it with a muttered incantation.

“You haven’t had a flashback in ages,” he whispered in horror, his eyes wide and his face as white as a sheet. I shrugged, holding my face in my hands and trying to force back the now echoing memories in my head – memories of what it felt like, what it sound like, what it looked like.

“You shouted so loud,” Ginny whimpered, tears falling rapidly from her eyes. I looked around the hall in horror – apparently I had shouted loud enough that most people were staring at me – or was it from the vomit? I had no idea.

I weakly got to my feet and stumbled out of the hall, holding my head in my hands as sweat poured into them. Neville was following me close behind, and the moment I was out of the hall I turned to him and collapsed into his arms. He held me as close to him as possible, his lips firmly planted to the top of my head as we stood in the entrance hall together.

“He can’t be out,” I finally managed to choke out.

“I know,” Neville whispered.

“What do I do if he is?”

“I don’t know,” Neville responded.

“Is he trying to get on my good side again by writing that?”

“You don’t let him get back there even if he is writing it for the best intentions,” Neville muttered.

“I would never –“

“I know you wouldn’t, I’m saying – I’m saying abusive people are able to be abusive for a reason,” Neville finished wisely.

“Yeah, I know. But I won’t,” I mumbled.

“Oh Mags,” Neville moaned, “Oh god, Mags, I’m so – I’m so sorry – I’m _so sorry_ –“

I sobbed loudly and collapsed back against his chest as a pair of furious footsteps filled my ears. I looked up to see McGonagall standing there, looking as white as Neville did.

“I asked Harry what was going on – I have no idea if Weasley is out of Azkaban or not – Dumbledore is investigating now –“

I nodded, holding my head in my hands again as Neville squeezed me tighter.

“He’s not allowed back in this castle, I can promise you that, Maggie,” McGonagall reassured, her voice hoarse.

“And outside the castle?” I managed to gasp out, “I’m not going to be safe in here forever.”

“Then we deal with that when it comes, for now you’re safe in here, I promise,” McGonagall sighed, “I’m not one for kicking problems down the road but I don’t think we have a choice here –“

I groaned, feeling nauseous again. Neville propped me up before I could fall on the floor.

“What is your first class?” McGonagall asked.

“Herbology,” I whispered.

“Good, one you both can skip. Neville, take her to the Hospital Wing, stay with her. I’ll send news along when it comes. You have Transfiguration after that, yes?”

I nodded weakly.

“Neville, I don’t think you can skip that – “

“No, probably not,” Neville groaned.

“And then – what?”

“Charms,” I whispered.

McGonagall swore, such a strange occasion that I actively blocked it out of my head.

“Well Neville, I’ll send someone in during Transfiguration – I believe Mr. Thomas does not take that class, no, no he doesn’t – and then during Charms, well, Maggie you’ll just have to get make up work, but I don’t think you’re well enough for class today,” McGonagall insisted.

“Probably not,” I agreed, feeling lightheaded again. Neville grunted with the effort of keeping me aloft.

“Alright, go, I’ll be along soon,” McGonagall reassured. Neville helped me up the stairs and we reached the Hospital Wing relatively slowly; I felt like I was going to fall over with every step.

“This must be so bad because you haven’t had a flashback in ages,” Neville groaned.

“Probably,” I agreed softly.

“Oh Maggie,” he whispered, “Oh I’m so sorry – I’m so sorry – I’m so – I’m so sorry –“

“Nev, please,” I begged, “You knew this happened to me.”

“Every time I hear you relive it, a part of me – a part of me breaks,” Neville mumbled.

“I know,” I swallowed, “I know, but – but now I just need –“

“He’s _never going to hurt you again_ ,” Neville insisted angrily, “ _Never_. If he comes _near you_ , I will kill him.”

I nodded, closing my eyes tightly as we reached the Wing and he helped me into a bed. I rested there as he quietly explained to Madam Pomfrey what was going on; I tried to get my heart rate to return to normal, but it didn’t no matter how much I urged. Neville soon returned to my side and sat in a chair next to my bed; he squeezed my hand tightly and I weakly opened my eyes to look at him.

“I love you,” he whispered softly.

“I love you,” I responded, reaching out for his face and holding it softly with my hand. He leaned into it and kissed my palm, his eyes never leaving mine as we sat there in tense silence. We didn’t move at all for a while, just quietly studying each other, for what felt like ages.

My heart rate began to slow, but the fear was so ubiquitous in the back of my mind that it could never get back to normal.

The door to the Wing opened and we jolted from our reverie to look at it; McGonagall swooped in and closed the door behind her.

“Well?” Neville demanded, sitting up straight and attentively. I gripped the bed with terror, my knuckles turning white from the force of it.

“He was released,” McGonagall whispered, her voice shaking. Neville roared in fury and I leaned over to vomit on the floor again, which she quickly cleaned up.

“Apparently the Ministry doesn’t have enough money to keep him there – and they don’t actually think he committed a crime. He turned himself in for what the Ministry was accusing you all of back in the spring, but you all were acquitted – no one knew why he was still in there,” McGonagall continued.

“Why did they let him stay there at all then? We’ve been cleared for _months!_ ” Neville roared.

“Apparently he insisted he committed a crime,” McGonagall sighed.

“What crime?” I asked, though a part of me already knew.

“He was turning himself in for raping you,” McGonagall answered my question with the answer I already knew.

“What is this bullshit –“

“Neville,” McGonagall interrupted sternly, “Control yourself.”

“He didn’t believe he had done it, last we saw!” Neville roared.

“Well that’s the story,” McGonagall sighed, “But the Ministry considers that a muggle law crime, not a Wizarding one – and since you never pressed charges, they let him go.”

“This doesn’t make any sense,” I whispered.

“No,” McGonagall agreed, “But I don’t think the Ministry makes much sense lately, do you?”

I shook my head silently. Neville’s hands were balled into tight fists.

“At any rate, they released him at the end of September. I have no idea where he is living – it’s not with Mrs. Weasley, or Fred,” McGonagall shook her head sadly.

“How do you know?” Neville asked.

“Because both are, according to Ginny, ashamed of him – neither want anything to do with him,” McGonagall sighed.

I felt my heart break for both Fred and Mrs. Weasley – neither of them deserved to lose their brother or son, respectively, though I appreciated that they did for my sake. Or due to their own morals. Possibly both.

“So what? Mr. Lovegood paid him to write that?” Neville snapped.

“Apparently he insisted on doing it without pay,” McGonagall sighed, “Said it was important – something that needed to be said – that people needed to see.”

“So he put it in the damn Quibbler, that very few people read,” Neville snorted.

“More people read it after Harry’s interview last year, especially after it was revealed the Ministry had been lying to everyone,” McGonagall reminded, “And the Prophet would never have published that.”

“That’s true,” I admitted quietly.

“Well, if he’s publishing for free in the Quibbler, maybe he’ll just starve to death,” Neville stated grimly.

“Neville!” McGonagall shouted.

“Did you see Maggie in the Great Hall, Professor?” Neville demanded.

“I did –“

“I can’t help my reaction, then!”

McGonagall let out a long, heavy sigh, staring at Neville for a while. She finally cleared her throat and continued, “At any rate, Dumbledore’s put out a ban on letting him into the castle, and he’s asked the Hogsmeade shopkeepers to keep a look out. He shouldn’t be able to get anywhere near here. You just shouldn’t _leave_.”

“Has he tried to contact me at all before this?” I asked quietly.

“Not that we know – we’re not stopping mail, or floo messages,” McGonagall shook her head, “No, if he tried to contact you, he would have succeeded.”

I nodded, staring at my lap, deep in thought.

“Does he think he’ll get back on my good side for writing that?” I asked softly.

“I don’t know,” McGonagall admitted, “He might be trying to get on his family’s good side, more so than yours.”

“He can’t undo what he did by writing a damn article!” Neville shouted.

“No,” McGonagall agreed quietly, “But I think this isn’t the only thing we’ll see from him.”

Neville looked at me in fear and I matched his expression, staring at each other for longer than we should have in front of McGonagall.

“What do we do?” Neville finally asked tiredly.

“You go on as usual, knowing that he can’t get to you here,” McGonagall sighed, “I’m sorry, but you have no other choice.”

Neville nodded weakly and I closed my eyes tiredly.

“It’s time for class, Neville. Mr. Thomas should be here soon, Maggie,” McGonagall reassured. I nodded and Neville’s eyes never left mine as he left the room behind her; they were as fearful and filled with dread as mine must have been.

Dean came in but we didn’t say much, just sat there in silence. I stared at my lap, and he stared at the ceiling. I don’t think he really knew what to say.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered after a while.

“Thanks,” I responded, and we continued to sit in awkward silence.

Then again, when Neville returned, he didn’t know what to say either. He just kissed me, and held my hand, and comforted me with touches rather than words. He stayed with me the rest of the day – I mostly napped – and in the evening, when Pomfrey decided to keep me in for the night, he crawled into bed next to me and continued to say nothing as we fell asleep.

When we woke up the next morning, the castle was shaking.

“What – what?” I asked in surprise, quickly rousing awake with the sensation of being thrown back and forth in the hospital bed. Neville jumped out of bed in similar confusion, looking around in terror as the ground literally shook beneath our feet. The walls were visibly quaking and dust could be seen flying out from them, filling the air and making the both of us cough madly.

“I’m going to find Madam Pomfrey!” Neville reassured, running over to the office and wrenching the door open, stumbling over his feet as the ground didn’t cooperate with his mission.

“No – no wait – Nev!” I shouted after him, fear entering my heart – what if he got hurt? I quickly got out of bed, shaking slightly as I had not walked in nearly twenty-four hours. I leaned against the nightstand, but as the ground shook it couldn’t adequately support me, and I slipped and fell to the ground. I hit my head on the leg of the nightstand and groaned in pain, collapsing against the shifting stone and holding my head in my hands. I pulled back my hands and saw blood on them; I groaned again and tried to steady myself against the bed now and pick myself back up.

“Mags? Mags where are you?!” Neville shouted. I felt my heart jump in my throat with relief as I pulled myself up by the bedpost.

“You’re bleeding!” he gasped, stumbling towards me and holding me to him.

“What’s going on?” I begged, wiping the blood from my face and grabbing gauze from a nearby cart. I didn’t have time to be sluggish or weak after yesterday – survival instincts were kicking in, and everything was becoming clearer, and I more alert. I began wrapping the gauze around my head tightly.

“The castle is being attacked,” Neville explained.

“ _No_ , _really?_ ” I shot back sarcastically.

“Death Eaters,” Neville clarified, “She’s trying to preserve some of the rarer ingredients for remedies and keep them safe – people are going to be hurt in the battle, she won’t have time to get replacements –“

“We’re in a tall tower, we should go, I assume?”

“Yes, she told me to take you and run – we have to get out of sight –“

“I’m fine, I can run on my own,” I snapped back.

“Mags, you had a horrific flashback yesterday –“

“Yeah, and I’m fine now, we have to go,” I swallowed, kissing him on the lips, “Come on, we have to help –“

“They’ll be looking for us, after the incident with the forest, we should stay out of sight!” Neville protested.

“They’re going to find us no matter what, this castle isn’t that big, and we’re two of the best fighters Hogwarts has – we have to go help!” I insisted as I finished wrapping the gauze and waved my wand to tape it down. Already my head felt like it was clearing up.

“Alright – alright, let’s go,” Neville nodded, grabbing my hand and running with me down the stairs, down the corridor, and down more stairs. Every step was tenuous and every move we made was dangerous as the castle shook and trembled around us. Some shakes were bigger than others – loud deep booms pounding into our ears as something huge hit the castle. Most were small, but still powerful – low rumbles that kept us from moving as fast as we would have liked.

A huge object crashed into the castle; the rumble was the loudest and deepest yet, and the force of it was so strong that Neville and I were knocked to the ground. He collapsed on top of my back and held me tightly for safety; the crash must have affected the Hospital Wing tower, and stones began to shake around us. Neville and I looked up together to see part of the wall crumbling. Neville immediately shouted in fear and covered me with his body; he pulled out his wand and shouted “ _PROTEGO!_ ” at just the last second. Stones bounced off the shield in all directions and I crouched underneath him, trying to keep my breathing steady as the crumbling continued. When it slowed enough, Neville quickly stood up and grabbed me, pulling me down the corridor again, as far away as possible.

“What about Pomfrey?!” I shouted.

“She can take care of herself, the tower didn’t collapse!” Neville responded, but he looked terrified too. We ran down more stairs and finally reached the Entrance Hall, which was in absolute chaos. Students and teachers alike were fortifying the castle with magic; the entire building was shaking like mad as people tried to get inside it.

I spotted familiar deep green robes and ran to them – McGonagall was casting extensive charms on the castle to protect it.

“McGonagall!” I shouted, running to her.

“Maggie! Oh thank goodness, the Hospital Wing is getting _bombarded_ –“ McGonagall breathed with relief, “You should be somewhere safe –“

“Oh please, you need me to fight –“

“They’re looking for you, and Harry and Hermione and – Neville you should be hiding too!”

“Not a chance!” Neville shot back.

“You’re hurt! Both of you!” McGonagall insisted. I looked over at Neville in fear and sure enough, blood was trickling from the top of his head – stones must have hit him there when they were collapsing on us. McGonagall quickly waved her wand and the blood cleared up; Neville closed his eyes tightly and grimaced in pain.

“Doesn’t matter! You need us!” I insisted.

“Maggie, you _need to_ –“

But I wasn’t listening. She wasn’t being reasonable. I quickly ran back up the stairs and Neville followed me, McGonagall shouting after us in protest and fear as we did so. I sprinted through the castle to the first floor corridor, where many of the windows were.

“Neville,” I paused, panting with exertion, “Go help in the Entrance Hall –“

“No way in _hell_ I’m leaving you!” Neville roared.

“I don’t care, I’m going to shift, you cant follow me when I’m a dragon,” I reminded. Neville looked terrified.

“Mind breaking open this window for me?” I asked cheerfully, nodding my head quickly to the one in front of us. Neville sighed and I shifted quickly; he shouted, “ _Reducto!_ ” and the window shattered around us.

“Good luck, and stay safe,” he whispered. I nodded in response, affectionately placing my head under his hand; he patted it lovingly and I quickly flew out of the window, my heart clenching at the thought that I might see him again, but my mind focused on helping.

Plenty of older students, teachers, and Order members were outside fighting the conglomerate of Death Eaters – and giants. Herin was also outside, fighting the two giants that were attacking the Castle. I was a small dragon, and I almost immediately felt useless – Shae was medium sized and helping out Herin ably, weaving in between the giants and attacking them deftly with fire and claws.

Staring at Herin, I was reminded of some of the first words she had ever said to me.

_“You are a Southern American Blue,” Herin continued, “You are fast. You are vicious. You will gouge the eyes of any who crosses you. No dragon will fear you, no matter what other species you may be.”_

_“But – I’m very tiny –“_

_“I am cumbersome!” Herin roared, “I cannot remain hidden, no matter the circumstance. I am strong, yes, but I cannot maneuver well! You have skills that I do not, and I have skills that you do not – it is how nature works. We cannot have every power.”_

I nodded with determination.

If I timed this right, there was no way the giant would even see me coming.

I just had to go as fast as I could.

I took a deep breath and steadied myself on the ledge of the window, watching the two giants and two dragons fighting as closely as I can. When the giant faced me, I knew this was my shot – soon he’d see me – I had to go, _now_ –

I flew forward like a flash, going so fast that I couldn’t see anything around me –

I couldn’t hear anything as the wind whistled in my ears and I dove towards my target, snarling as I shot so fast I might as well have been a bullet –

I _was_ a bullet –

I was aiming for the throat –

I reached it – I was on the giant’s neck – I rapidly tore out the large jugular vein of him, blood spurting everywhere around me. The giant gurgled in shock and I leapt from his body as he collapsed to the ground – I had moved so fast he hadn’t even seen me coming.

Shae and Herin roared at me in approval and I roared back, but now the other giant was aware of me – there was no way I was getting away with that again. I quickly flew around him and aided the others in wearing him down, diving in and out at less crucial points of his anatomy, attacking and biting and clawing at his tough and leathery skin.

I could still taste blood from other giant in my mouth.

The skin was unyielding, and I could barely bite into it. Herin was practically the _size_ of him, and she couldn’t. We were all frustrated, we were all roaring, and the Giant was wearing us down.

A weak spray of water hit my face but I ignored it, gathering up all the fire in my stomach and using whatever elementalism I could use as a dragon – which, given how poor I still was at it as a human, wasn’t much – and spitting it into the giant’s face. The giant roared in pain and Herin breathed a _huge_ amount of fire at his back, but his skin was too tough – he barely felt it – he turned around and swiped at Herin, who only just got away. I dove around the giant and bobbed and weaved through him, trying to confuse him, but he managed to watch my every move. Shae started following my lead, and two of us confusing him worked well enough – he began to get dizzy and sway around us, and I quickly turned to do it again, hoping to make him collapse to the ground.

Shouting suddenly occurred everywhere and I could hear something like a wave – no, no it _was_ a wave. I turned around in shock and hovered in the air to see a huge wave of water shooting up from the lake, so tall it could have come up to the neck of the giant I was trying to fell. I watched, mesmerized, as the wave of water crashed over the Death Eater side of the fighting line, knocking most of them over and sweeping some into the forest.

The giant took my distraction to attack, sweeping a club at me; I just managed to get away, but Shae was rapidly knocked out of the air. Herin and I roared in unison and I dove at the giant, grabbing ahold of his earlobe and ripping it from his skull as Herin managed to grab onto his arm and pull it out of its socket – no – she kept ripping – the sound filled the air like the sound of cloth being torn apart, but wet cloth, cloth wet with blood –

Blood flooded over the entire grounds as his arm was torn from his body and his ear was torn from his head, and the amount of blood coming out of him was enough to send him into shock. He swayed on the spot and began to collapse; Herin thought quickly and managed to push him towards the Death Eater side. The Death Eaters there scattered, screaming in shock; I quickly dove towards Shae and collapsed next to her frail, human body. I transformed back and shook her with my human hands, screaming her name in her ears. I reached for her neck – she had a pulse – but what was I to do now? What did you do next?

“Maggie, Maggie I got this!”

I turned around and Tonks was running over, her hair bright purple and her face streaked with mud. She waved her wand so fast I almost didn’t see it and Shae levitated before me, flopping slightly with unconsciousness. Tonks then turned and quickly ran back with Shae across the ground and I stood up, shaking, fear entering my heart as I watched them go.

A blast of air filled my ears and I turned around in shock, my hospital gown billowing around me as I saw Harry running towards me –

No, he wasn’t running –

He was practically _levitating –_

My mouth dropped open as I watched in shock. Harry was _surfing_ on a current of air, balancing deftly as he flew straight past me, collapsing to the ground and spinning the air around him. He looked awkward every step of the way, and narrowly avoided dozens of curses as he spun the air, but eventually he got it into a nice, tight tornado. He then swooped his arms behind him and then back, and another powerful gust of wind flew forward and carried the tornado towards the Death Eaters.

At the same time, the sound of wooshing water hit my ears and I turned to see another blast from the Lake fly towards the opposite side of the battle – it came in with the tornado and twisted around it, creating a chaotic cyclone of elements that took up Death Eaters from the ground and shot them out in every direction. Many went back into the Forbidden Forest; a few headed into our territory, but they hit the ground so sharply that they could _not_ have survived.

I looked around wildly for the source of the water and saw Neville, drenched and covered in blood, weaving his arms and hands deftly through the air. His face was contorted in concentration as he shot water into the makeshift twister, and my mouth someone dropped open more.

“Maggie!”

I turned to see Hermione running towards me and grabbing my arm.

“Don’t just stand there! You’re a sitting duck!” she screeched, looking terrified.

I quickly shook my head to clear it and shot up into the air, shifting mid-jump and flying over the whole proceedings. Sadly, many of the Death Eaters strewn from the cyclone were alive, but they ran away from the battle in fear, sprinting back into the forest. I dove at some of them as they ran, folding my wings up against my body to chase them as the wind whipped into my face and shot over my scales and horns and back. It whistled loudly in my ears as I darted like a bullet again, reaching a still fighting Death Eater and managing to knock them to the ground. They fell with a hard whack, hitting their head on something; I quickly turned around and flew back through the chaos.

There was mud and water everywhere from Neville’s walls of water; everything was wet and gross and the opposite of ideal dragon conditions. And yet, the wind was strong from Harry; the air was as dry as a bone and moving so fast that I didn’t know if the sounds in my ears were from how fast I was flying or how fast he was moving air. Students were increasingly coming out of the castle to fight, and in the chaos thousands of curses shot back and forth from one side to the other. I couldn’t make out any one specific Death Eater; I could just try and see where I was needed next, now that the two biggest fighters had been taken out.

I locked eyes on Death Eaters running towards Neville, who was distracted trying to take up water from the lake. I dove towards them as fast as I could and knocked the two of them over like bowling pins; two more came after Neville and he noticed them immediately, weaving his hands through the air and sending a blast of water at them that knocked them into the forest like a firefighting hose would have, only, it was more water for the same amount of pressure.

I turned and saw that Harry could no longer make the tornado, though Neville was still going tstrong with the water; he had switched to wand magic again and was shooting thousands of curses through the air, taking on three Death Eaters at once.

Neville had a similar idea as I did at that time, and as I dove towards the Death Eaters to help Harry out, a burst of water pushed me from behind. I screamed in surprise as the water and I were carried into the Death Eaters and knocked them out; I quickly had the wherewithal to fall out of the way, rolling into the grass and sputtering. Water was not good for a dragon’s lungs and I quickly coughed all of it out as much as I could.

“Shit! Shit! Maggie are you alright?”

I turned to see Neville running towards me and I transformed back, unable to control my laughter.

“Why are you –“

“That was hilarious – I’m fine, Nev, really!” I managed to choke out.

“Why was that – I could have killed you!” Neville shouted in shock.

“Nah,” I laughed weakly, “It was hilarious because we both thought LET’S HELP HARRY! And didn’t coordinate”

“True,” Neville managed to chuckle.

“Come on – let’s go back, we can’t stay still for too long,” I urged. Neville nodded and he ran back to the lake and I transformed quickly, shooting up into the sky to look out at the grounds and examine every inch of them.

The Death Eaters were mainly retreating – running away quickly from the water and the dragons and the blood – the two giants were bleeding over everything, rivers of it going through the grass and approaching everyone. As the blood crept into the Hogwarts battle side, screams filled the air as it no doubt took people by surprise – the Death Eaters screamed as it reach them, too – they started running away in droves, all retreating into the woods.

One of them kept fighting, but Lupin knocked them backwards and they flew through the trees. Sirius managed to stun another; Dumbledore, who was fighting on the main line despite being weaker than usual of late, managed to shoot five of them back with a wall of elementalism fire.

 _I wish I could do that_ , I thought mournfully.

Hermione was shooting curse after curse through the air, but another Death Eater was creeping up on her – she turned rapidly and stunned him, but the first was going to take her distraction as opportunity –

I dove like a bullet and knocked him to the ground, pounding on his head with the diamond club of my dragon tail –

The man collapsed and his head was covered in blood –

I shot back up into the air and hovered, looking around again, but now almost all the Death Eaters had gone. I watched, snarling, as the last one retreated into the forest, and quickly transformed back, collapsing to the bloody grass and breathing heavily.

“Maggie,” Hermione gasped behind me. I turned to look at her, swallowing awkwardly.

“I’m sorry – I’m sorry, I was being – I was being stupid – I was so afraid of you not being ready for, well, something like this that – I acted out of fear –“ she managed to gasp out, breathing heavily from exertion from fighting.

“It’s okay – your intentions were good – it’s fine – I forgive you,” I panted, running to her and hugging her tightly.

“Bloody hell, let’s not fight over something that stupid again, what if we had died?” Hermione groaned.

“It would have been pretty dumb, I’m not arguing with you,” I laughed weakly.

“I’m sorry the dickwad is out of jail,” Hermione managed to say.

I groaned, holding my head in my hands. This was a mistake, as my hands were covered in giant blood, but I had managed to forget about George so _thoroughly well_ during the battle that I couldn’t even help it.

“Don’t think about that now – holy crap this is a mess,” Hermione groaned.

“How are we going to clean all this up?” I agreed, “Scourgify isn’t going to work on this... it’s too ubiquitous… we’d clean up the dirt with the blood…”

“I got this,” Neville shouted from far away, and I watched in amazement as he elegantly moved his arms through the air, causing a light river of water to run through the grounds. Everyone shouted in amazement as the grounds basically became swampland, but the blood was washed out into the forest and dissolved into the water, making it essentially a nonissue.

I turned to Neville in amazement, watching him with a mixture of pure awe and pure adoration.

“Did you see that?” he shouted eagerly, running to us, “Did you see that?”

“Yes!” I responded happily, “That was amazing!”

“I’ve never been so good at something – _Maggie_ – can you believe it?” he laughed, looking elated.

“I am so happy for you, but you’re bleeding!” I managed to interject, pointing at his nose, which had a large gash. Neville shrugged, clearly not caring; Hermione waved her wand wordlessly, and the blood and cut quickly cleared up.

“I’m sorry for being obstinate about Maggie’s issues, Neville. I would never have forgiven myself if she had actually run away, or worse,” Hermione whispered.

“Thanks,” Neville smiled awkwardly, “I forgive you – fighting when we apparently can get _attacked_ at any _second_ is really dumb – I don’t’ want to anymore –“

“Same,” Harry agreed, walking up to us and grimacing at Hermione.

“Oh good,” Hermione sighed, “I’m sorry too, Harry. I should never have made you –“

“It’s alright, let’s just – let’s move on,” Harry nodded, “So I guess the scouting party in the Forbidden Forest worked out after all, huh?”

“Sadly yes,” I groaned, “Shae was hurt – I want to make sure she’s okay –“

“Who took her?” Neville asked.

“Tonks,” I quickly answered.

“Let’s go look – I took care of most of the cleanup,” Neville declared proudly.

“That was amazing!” Harry grinned.

“You were also amazing – that tornado was excellent, Harry, really,” Neville beamed.

“Well I couldn’t keep it up for long – you have a real talent, Neville, share it with the rest of us!” Harry laughed, riding on the euphoria of winning and of forgiveness with Hermione, no doubt.

“I wish I could,” Neville grinned, “Come on, let’s find Tonks.”

We ran together through the grounds back into the castle, moving through the crowd of people picking up after each other – no one from our side seemed to be dead, which was a good sign; then again, any Death Eaters that were fallen were being tied up, indicating they weren’t either.

“Guess the Death Eaters wanted to respond to your rebellion, huh, Hermione?” Harry asked thoughtfully as we reached the Entrance Hall.

“Ministry ignores it, Death Eaters attack it. Seems normal,” she rolled her eyes in exasperation.

“Then we just keep fighting back,” Neville nodded firmly.

“They won’t close the school after this, they can’t,” I whispered, “It’s the only place we have to go.”

“Let’s hope not,” Harry agreed grimly as we ran into the Great Hall, where the wounded were being taken. I ran through and spotted Tonks’ purple hair – she waved me over quickly.

“She’s fine, she’s alive – don’t worry – honestly, I’m hearing rumors we have no mortalities,” Tonks quickly explained.

“Neither do they, I bet,” Hermione sighed.

“Well, the giants, but there are more where that came from,” Tonks looked at us all grimly, “I… I think this is just the beginning.”

“Then we train to fight more,” I stated calmly.

“We can’t leave Hogwarts – not now,” Neville nodded.

“Hopefully the Ministry agrees with you,” Tonks sighed. I swallowed, looking at the others in worry.

We could only guess what would come next.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE COMMENT I can't say much because I really need to go to bed before my dad yells at me but PLEASE COMMENT (I'm looking for book reports!)


	95. Chapter Ninety-Four: October 2 - 6, 1996, Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Afraid, we cower   
> To interests not our own   
> The power to free or to control   
> We let it slip through   
> Our fingers to the floor   
> Watch as the bodies wash ashore   
> Whoah...   
> Nobody lives here anymore 
> 
> We storm the gates   
> Raise the flags   
> Just the same old story   
> We seize the throne   
> Subjugate   
> We should have burned it to the ground   
> Whoah...   
> (Storm the gates, Raise the flags)   
> Woah....   
> (Seize the throne, Subjugate)   
> Some might say we've lost our way   
> But I believe we've not gone far enough 
> 
> And how long will we fall for this?   
> How long will we fall for this?   
> How long will we fall for this?   
> And how long will we fall?"   
> ~ Rise Against, "A Gentlemen's Coup".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for discussions of torture and self harm

Chapter 94: October 2 – 6, 1996, Hogwarts

Cleaning up the castle wasn’t terrible, surprisingly – most of the damage was on the grounds, and the limited damage to the castle towers didn’t make them collapse.

Still, there were some stones thrown loose, and some damage here and there, which was not exactly fun to deal with the rest of the day – most adults stayed in the Great Hall, working to care for the wounded, while the students were sent to clean up.

“Ungrateful brats, the lot of ya – don’t grumble about it! Do you want to have a home with holes in the damn walls? I’m not cleaning this up on my own!” Filch roared at some fourth years who were grumbling as they cleaned up the dust in the Ravenclaw tower, “I didn’t ask for no war.”

“No, you just supported Umbridge as she abused and tortured children,” Ernie hissed angrily under his breath next to me. I grimaced at him and he sighed heavily.

“Filch is Filch. Come on, let’s keep going,” he lamented.

“I wonder how squibs even happen,” I commented thoughtfully, waving my wand and putting stones back into the castle walls.

“What do you mean?” Ernie asked curiously.

“I mean, well, muggle-borns _and_ squibs are both… things, that exist,” I continued.

“Yeah?” Ernie frowned.

“Well, how much do you know about genetics?” I asked him.

“Nothing,” Ernie laughed, “I’m pureblood, remember?”

“Well, see, with genetics, I – oh dear, I’m an evolution person, genes aren’t exactly my strong suit,” I sighed.

“I think I can explain it – they _were_ my strong suit – er –“ Neville cleared his throat.

“How would you know? You’re pureblood too,” Ernie laughed.

“I studied muggle science with Maggie for reasons,” Neville laughed.

“Okay now you gotta tell me,” Ernie grinned.

“Basically, when I was going through the whole ‘becoming an animagus’ process –“ I began.

“Oi! This isn’t social hour, you brats! Get back to cleaning!” Filch ordered. I rolled my eyes in pure exasperation, waving my wand to clean up more of the dust. Neville and Ernie also worked hard, but Ernie was looking at me eagerly to continue my story.

“When I was figuring out my form, I went through a lot of different animals,” I hissed under my breath so Filch couldn’t hear, “And one of them was a lot like what the first dragon would have been.”

“You’re kidding,” Ernie responded in a hushed whisper, his eyes widening.

“No,” I eagerly affirmed, “No, I was a dinosaur – I mean, all dragons are dinosaurs, but I wasn’t magical. And it was – well, I’m kind of obsessed with finding a fossil of this thing.”

“Of course,” Ernie grinned.

“And I want to help her,” Neville smiled at me lovingly.

“Of course,” Ernie rolled his eyes, smirking.

“Anyway, so we’ve been studying muggle science so we can do this – we need to know a lot about biology, paleontology, geology, chemistry, physics, the whole nine,” I sighed, “That was one of our big ‘before Voldemort came back’ projects.”

“So I take it you studied muggle genetics?” Ernie asked.

“Yup,” Neville nodded.

“And he’s better at it than I am,” I shrugged.

“I mean, didn’t you breed that one plant? I’m not surprised,” Ernie laughed.

“I’m the geneticist and Maggie’s the evolutionary biologist, we’ve established this,” Neville grinned.

“So give me a genetics primer,” Ernie suggested.

“Well genes determine traits, as in, you have pale skin, so you have genes that give you pale skin – following?” Neville began.

“I’m curious as to how they do that, but yes,” Ernie laughed.

“It’s complicated and not relevant – anyway, some traits are determined by one gene. Like whether or not your earwax is wet or dry,” Neville shrugged.

“Gross,” Ernie grimaced.

“Oh come on – anyway, in these cases, the simplest types have only two forms of the trait, called _alleles_. Like the gene is for earwax consistency, and one allele is the _wet_ allele and the other is the _dry_ allele,” Neville continued.

“Alright, I’m following,” Ernie nodded.

“Well each parent contributes one copy of the gene to a kid – so one allele. So you get one allele of a gene from one parent, and one from the other,” Neville continued, “Now, which trait you express – in the _simplest case_ , this doesn’t work for everything – is determined by dominance.”

“Okay,” Ernie frowned.

“So a dominant trait _always_ shows up – if it’s there, it happens. That’s your trait. Wet earwax is dominant,” Neville paused, “A recessive trait only shows up if the dominant trait isn’t there. Dry earwax is recessive.”

“Ahh,” Ernie nodded in understanding.

“So if a person has one dominant allele and one recessive allele, they show the dominant trait – but they’re a _carrier_ for that recessive allele,” Neville continued.

“Yeah, I can see that – so if you have both a wet allele and a dry allele, you’d be wet, but you’d be a carrier for the dry allele,” Ernie stated.

“Yup,” Neville affirmed, “Well, this means that recessive traits can skip generations – so say if two carriers for the dry allele had a kid, then that kid could potentially have dry earwax, if he got the dry allele from both parents. But dominant traits can’t skip generations, because you can’t be a carrier for a dominant trait – if you have it, you express it.”

“Oh, okay, yeah,” Ernie nodded rapidly.

“So with being a wixen, I mean, muggles can be born of wixen – you know, squibs – and wixen can be born of muggles – muggleborns,” Neville continued.

“Yes…” Ernie frowned.

“So it’s clearly not simple inheritance – _both_ traits skip generations!” Neville shouted in bemusement, throwing his hands up in the air.

“So, what could it be?” Ernie asked eagerly.

“Multiple genes, right?” I asked Neville, frowning.

“Probably? I don’t know enough,” Neville sighed, “I mean, I do…”

“How’d you do your genetic experiments with your plants?” Ernie tilted his head to the side with curiosity.

“I mean, with them I just kept breeding plants together who had good curse blocking abilities – I’m not sure how the genetics worked there either, since it seemed additive,” Neville frowned, “I need to do more research.”

“You haven’t in a while, have you?” I asked, frowning.

“I mean, I was focused on making better curse blocking serums – I wasn’t really looking into the _cause_ of it all,” Neville admitted, “But yeah, I should.”

“I’m just curious how both squibs and muggleborns happen,” Ernie commented thoughtfully.

“Me too,” I sighed, “I mean, I’m personally curious how wixen evolved in the first place, but lord only knows – its not like we’re a different species from muggles, so fossils are no help.”

“An interesting point,” Neville frowned.

“Maybe you could use magic? Like how you made Blue?” Ernie suggested.

“I’m not sure – I could – maybe,” I admitted, my brow furrowing with thought.

“Oi! Clean up faster, or I’ll give you lot detentions!”

I groaned and waved my wand again, and we all grew silent as we worked to clean up together, not eager to have Filch’s grating voice in our ears again.

Luckily, with everyone working together the castle was clean by the evening, and the grounds were still swampland – but since they weren’t _usually_ swampland, the water was draining away into the lake and the forest, and soon that would return to normal as well.

I ran down to the Great Hall to see if they needed any help, Ernie and Neville on my heels. Hermione and Harry, who had been cleaning up in another tower, soon caught up with us as we sprinted into the room.

There weren’t too many casualties, but still it was jarring. Many younger students were lying down with bandaged heads and shoulders and chests, cut from flying debris. Some older students had clearly been hit with curses in the fray as they fought; as I walked through the aisles I saw that many DA members were either hurt or passed out, including Cho Chang, who was lying immobile on a stretcher. Ginny was shouting as an adult tried to bandage her arm, angry and insisting loudly that she wasn’t hurt at all. Dennis was groaning, his head bandaged up and blood seeping through it. Collin was passed out as well, and next to him Terry was muttering angrily as he massaged a cut on his leg.

“Bloody hell,” Harry whispered.

“Sam!” Ernie shouted, running towards a figure passed out on a stretcher. The rest of us quickly followed, and it was clear that Sam was just lying down, not unconscious.

“Hey gents,” he greeted tiredly, “Leg got broken while I was trying to carry Dennis to safety – I’m just tired –“

“Merlin, I thought you were more hurt,” Ernie sighed with relief.

“Nope, just lazy,” Sam rolled his eyes.

I turned around and looked around wildly for Shae, wondering how she was doing now – she was still where she had been before, so I skirted through the crowds of people towards her. She was sitting up, and talking quietly with Tonks, the two of them sitting together and staring out at the room.

“Ah, Maggie, good to see you,” Shae smiled, waving me over. I quickly ran to them and grinned weakly, running my hands through my hair.

“I’m glad you’re alive – I’m sorry my stupidity almost got you killed,” I groaned.

“Nah, we all get distracted. You were a huge help – _huge_ help – we couldn’t have taken down those giants without you, seriously,” Shae grinned, “Nothing like some speed to put you over the edge.”

“Especially with sluggish giants, eh?” I laughed.

“Exactly,” Shae rolled her eyes, “You really came out of nowhere, it was astounding – one second we were being overpowered by these giants, the next, one of them is spurting blood from his neck and falling to the ground as Maggie just flies there looking satisfied with herself.”

I grinned proudly and Tonks laughed in appreciation.

“But I’m not that hurt – I mean halflings aren’t exactly as powerful as dragons when they’re transformed, but I mean, we’re certainly stronger than humans. Just a few bruised ribs,” Shae shrugged.

“So what’s being said by Ministry folk?” I asked Tonks hurriedly, “Any change since I was last here?”

“Since no students were killed, there’s no talk of closing the school,” Tonks reassured, “Though I don’t think anyone’s happy with this.”

“No, obviously not,” I frowned.

“There’s going to be significantly increased security – Order members probably will start patrolling the forest,” Tonks sighed.

“I think America might send over some riders and halflings to help, especially since Herin is in the forest already,” Shae nodded.

“That… won’t go over well with the wixen public,” I frowned.

“Eh, whatever,” Shae rolled her eyes, “We need all the help we can get.”

“Do you think they’ll attack again soon?” I asked worriedly.

“I have no idea,” Tonks pursed her lips together tightly, “This didn’t go well for them, but they know our weaknesses better now – for example, they might bring more giants.”

“Fantastic,” I groaned.

“And they clearly really want to get into the castle,” Shae sighed, “They aren’t going to give up, that’s for sure.”

“Herin heard more about them wanting something in here?” I whispered.

“ _I_ heard it – they were fucking talking about it while they fought – they didn’t say where it was, but they knew they had to weaken the castle’s defenses. Whatever it is, only a high level Death Eater can get it, and there weren’t many of those today,” Shae sighed.

“It seems like it’ll be a siege of some sort – so another attack sooner rather than later seems likely,” Tonks scratched behind her head and frowned in thought.

“Well this is great,” I pursed my lips together, thinking hard myself.

It was time I returned to my work with the dinosaurs.

We needed our own army of giant creatures, after all.

So the next day I still went to McGonagall’s, as promised, and perched on a desk happily as she walked into the room from her bedroom.

“Ah, yes, I suppose we should get started on that – the Ministry isn’t exactly happy with everything that’s been happening, and you should register,” McGonagall nodded.

“Oh god,” I groaned, “I just wanted to do some dinosaur research.”

“I’m sure, but business before pleasure, here you go,” McGonagall handed me a large stack of papers form her desk. I groaned louder and sat at the desk, bending over the paper stack and starting to fill in the forms. There were an infinite number of details to include and statements to make, especially about my appearance and forms, which was exhausting to have to write. I didn’t _know_ everything about how I looked, either, which meant McGonagall was a necessity during the process.

“How many – horns – do I have?” I groaned.

“Transform,” McGonagall sighed. I did so, and she quietly counted the horns on my head and back, her finger poking and prodding me as she did so.

“Twenty on the head, and twenty-five going down your spine,” McGonagall stated calmly. I transformed back and quickly wrote that on the sheet as she read over my shoulder.

“And the color of your scales is more _cerulean_ , not _dark aqua_ ,” McGonagall scoffed.

“Wow, way to be particular,” I muttered.

“You have to be particular in the best of times with this, and you’re on thin ice as it is. I wouldn’t be surprised if a Ministry official came by to make sure you matched your written description,” McGonagall rolled her eyes.

“Fun,” I frowned, remembering her earlier words, “What do you mean the Ministry hasn’t been happy with everything?”

“Do you honestly think they _like_ that you and your friends have started a rebellion? Or that Hogwarts is getting attacked?” McGonagall asked in amazement.

“Well, no,” I admitted, “I just hadn’t heard anything about us – there’s nothing in the Prophet.”

“That’s because they don’t _want_ there to be anything. They want to steadfastly ignore your existence and hope that the rebellion loses momentum as a result,” McGonagall sighed, “And as for the battle, well, they don’t want parents to panic. No one died, so it’s unlikely any students are going to really complain to their parents – or maybe they will – but the Prophet isn’t going to contribute to that. If they don’t report on it, it can’t be a big deal, can it?”

I groaned loudly, holding my head in my hands.

“It doesn’t help that a major point of Hermione’s speech was how the Ministry tortured you kids. While it’s fairly common knowledge, I don’t think the extent of your mistreatment is well known, and the Ministry wants to keep it quiet,” McGonagall sighed.

I looked at her calculatingly, my mind churning at a thousand thoughts per minute.

“Get back to filling that out, I don’t want to spend all day doing this,” McGonagall ordered. I nodded and went back to filling out field after field on the forms, so bored with it that I could barely think straight. By the time I had finished, it was late in the night, and I barely had time to work on my other projects – McGonagall sent me out of the room and I headed up to the Room of Requirement, massaging my aching forehead as I reached it and plopped down on the couch.

“How’d your meeting with McGonagall go?” Hermione asked idly, working on a large stack of homework. Harry was doing much the same, and Neville’s nose was deep in an advanced muggle genetics textbook, his brow furrowed in concentration.

“Well, I had to fill out infinite paperwork to register to be an animagus –“

“Oh bloody hell, I remember that,” Hermione sighed, “I did that after we took our O.W.L.s – exhausting – I’m so sorry –“

“And McGonagall is nervous about the Ministry.”

“And water is wet?” Neville asked, looking at me from behind his book and raising an eyebrow.

“Well, I mean,” I sighed, “They’re not reporting on the rebellion and the battle because they don’t want to lend credence to them – they don’t want people to take either seriously.”

“Of course not,” Hermione scoffed, “The rebellion is obvious, and well, they don’t want people to panic about Hogwarts being attacked.”

“Yeah, that’s what McGonagall said,” I frowned.

“Did she say something else, too?” Harry asked worriedly.

“Just that Hermione saying stuff about how we were all tortured didn’t help – no, it’s not a secret that we and the other members of the twelve _were_ tortured, but, well, they’re trying to keep _how much_ we were tortured quiet, since it obviously makes them look _terrible_ ,” I explained.

“Of course they are,” Neville groaned.

“Ah the Ministry. So consistent in your terribleness,” Hermione snorted.

“This kind of… gave me an idea,” I sighed, frowning at them at the table.

“What?” Harry asked.

“Well I mean… what if we used it?” I asked.

“Er… used… what?” Neville frowned.

“Used our torture,” I sighed, “What if we talked about it in a speech to rouse support.”

The three of them looked at me thoughtfully.

“Are you sure that the others would be behind it?” Harry asked.

“Doesn’t matter if they are or not. The four of us would be enough,” I shrugged.

“I think we if we got all of the remaining twelve members to do it, that would be better,” Hermione commented thoughtfully.

“That works too,” I agreed.

“Should we talk to them about it?” Neville asked nervously.

“Yeah, I think so,” Hermione shoved her notes into her bag.

“Here, I’ll just call them,” Harry offered, pulling out his galleon and waving his wand. We waited there silently for a while, all deep in thought.

“My only qualm is that it had been a highly – it’s a very personal thing to talk about, you know?” Neville asked.

“Yeah,” Hermione agreed tiredly, “But, well, I think it would make an impact – and the Ministry can’t ignore it.”

“You _want_ the Ministry to call us out?” Harry asked in surprise.

“Of course. We need more people joining us now. The Ministry isn’t seen as immaculate anymore – that’s how we got so many names to join us at Hogsmeade. People have doubt. And if they see the Ministry criticizing us, especially when we turned out to be right last year – we could get a lot of people to see that the Ministry is _permanently_ corrupted, and join our side,” Hermione mused.

“Exactly,” I nodded rapidly.

The door to the room opened and Elena, Claire, Sam, Ginny, Luna, and Ron pooled in, sitting on some more couches and looking at us curiously.

“What’s up?” Sam asked.

“We were thinking of having another rebellion rally,” Harry began.

“And, well, we had an idea we wanted to run past you lot,” Neville sighed.

“What?” Ginny asked curiously.

“We wanted to talk about Umbridge torturing us as a way of gathering support,” I explained softly.

They all looked at me thoughtfully.

“It would be kind of hard to talk about,” Elena murmured after a while.

“Yes,” Hermione agreed, “It would.”

“But the thing is, the Ministry is trying to sweep a lot of this under the rug – it’s common knowledge we were tortured, but the extent is not known,” I explained, “And they aren’t reporting on the rebellion either – or the battle, for that matter – so calling attention to how much we were tortured, well, it should bring to light how much the Ministry is screwed up, isn’t it?”

“And then they start bashing us in the press,” Claire laughed.

“Which is a good thing,” Hermione insisted.

Claire frowned, thinking hard.

“I mean, I just said this, but – people have doubts about the Ministry after how they handled Voldemort – wouldn’t it convince you a little more if second after kids came forward with how they were unfairly tortured by the Ministry, the Ministry discredited them?” Hermione offered.

“That’s a really good point,” Ginny nodded, “I’m in.”

“Me too,” Ron agreed grimly.

“Same,” Sam sighed.

“Yes,” Luna nodded.

“Definitely,” Claire furthered.

Elena sat in silence for a while, looking at me desperately.

“I’m not sure I’ll be able to do it,” Elena finally murmured, “I support it, but I think I’ll get too scared.”

“Well, you can come stand with us at the front, and if you feel like you want to speak, go right ahead,” I reassured kindly.

“Thanks,” she sighed.

“So when do we have this meeting? And where?” Sam asked.

“Let me talk to McGonagall about that, but I have an idea,” Hermione offered, “Soon, though. I think we should do it soon.”

“Agreed,” Harry nodded rapidly.

And so the next day, Friday, Hermione stayed after at Transfiguration to talk to McGonagall as I went up to therapy. It went well again – Dr. Wilson and I talked extensively about my issues of guilt – but as I left I couldn’t stop crying again.

 _That’s a sign it’s working_ , I reassured myself, sniffling heavily and shuffling my feet down to Care of Magical Creatures.

“You alright love?” Neville asked worriedly, pulling me close to him and holding him tightly.

“Yeah,” I nodded, “It just was – well, it was a lot, that’s all.”

“Of course,” he reached out with his thumb to wipe away a tear on my cheek, “I’m proud of you for going, though.”

“Thanks Nev,” I smiled weakly, and we turned to work with the Thestrals again, Hagrid eagerly explaining how to ride them.

“Sorry I won’t be at Hogwarts Alliance today,” I commented as he and I left the class, walking back up to the castle.

“Oh it’s fine,” Neville grinned, “We can’t do _everything_ together.”

“No,” I laughed, “Aren’t you supposed to insult me for not being queer enough?”

“Oh, right,” Neville grinned wider, “God, Maggie. Why aren’t you trans? How could you let me down this much?”

“No idea,” I grinned, “I’m a huge disappointment.”

“Obviously,” he chortled, kissing the side of my forehead and making me giggle more.

“You’re perfect in every way,” he murmured softly in my ear, “And I wouldn’t change you in a minute.”

“Except, you know, not have mental illness,” I grinned.

“Well that hardly counts, of course I want you to be _healthy_ ,” Neville laughed.

“Fair enough,” I beamed, kissing him on the lips. We had a quiet dinner – Hermione wasn’t around, and Harry was studying his potions textbook adamantly – and I went up to our room while Neville went off to the club, happy to get some work done in his absence.

I crawled onto the bed and Blue scurried up after me, sitting in my lap as I pulled out my charms book. I held it over her, reading intently, but I found it hard to focus as she nuzzled up against my stomach and peeped and chirped at me needfully.

“I suppose you want me to make you a family, huh?” I asked sadly, looking down at her as she nestled in my lap. She chirped at me, cocking her head to the side to look me in the eyes.

“I’ll get on it, I promise. I’ve been a horrifically neglectful mum,” I sighed, scratching her behind the crest, “I’m sorry.”

Blue chirped, and it was at least a reassuring sound.

“How many family members would you even want?” I asked thoughtfully, knowing she couldn’t respond, “One? Two? It’s not like the fossil record is helpful – no real evidence of pack behavior or anything, but birds aren’t exactly antisocial.”

Blue chirped again.

“And you’re part raven! For better or for worst, your brain is part raven,” I groaned, “Ravens are social – how many? What would be ideal for you?”

Blue chirped another time and scrunched her head up close to her body, closing her eyes and resting.

“Well, I’ll probably only be able to make as many as Dumbledore and McGonagall allow,” I laughed, “So there’s that.” I returned to reading as Blue napped peacefully, studying over complex charms and hoping the information would commit to memory, though I was so distracted by everything else in life it felt like a lost cause.

Neville came in, grinning from ear to ear, and I beamed back at him as he came up to me and sat next to me on the bed.

“How’d it go?” I asked him, kissing him softly.

“Really really well!” Neville laughed.

“Okay, you gotta tell me more than that,” I beamed. Blue chirped and woke up, now switching to sit in Neville’s lap, and he scritchled her absent-mindedly.

“We talked mostly about Umbridge to be honest,” Neville admitted, “And about how she completely denied nonbinary identities. We then discussed masculine and feminine traits a lot, and about how nonbinary doesn’t require one to completely give those up, and we talked a little about pronouns. I was a big help with that in that, I admit, I do still express some masculine features and I use the he/him pronoun set, but I think I reassured a lot of the younger ones who got forcibly outed last year that no matter what they decide they are, they don’t really have to fundamentally change _anything_ about themselves unless they want to. So that was a _great_ discussion to have, really.”

I grinned at him happily, “That’s wonderful!”

“And we had a big discussion on names for things – like how we don’t know what to call me? You’re my girlfriend, I guess, but there isn’t an equivalent term for me, and so we just say we’re partners at this point because societal connotations aren’t worth it,” he laughed.

“Did you come up with an equivalent term?” I grinned.

“No,” Neville chortled, “There wasn’t much consensus. It was a big argument, but a fun one!”

“I’m glad,” I giggled.

“And the other discussions went well two – the intersex folk, well, there weren’t a lot, but they had a good conversation, according to Alex,” Neville continued.

“Oh good,” I smiled.

“And the two binary trans groups mostly talked about healthcare and surgeries, but they did discuss Umbridge a little – all in all everything went well! I’m excited to see how next week goes,” Neville wiggled happily in his spot, causing Blue to snap in irritation and leap from his lap. She scurried over to her bed and curled up into it, tucking her head underneath her wing.

“So what have you been up to?” Neville asked.

“I’ve been studying and talking to Blue,” I laughed, “Nothing really interesting.”

“I’m sorry love,” he smiled, kissing me on the cheek, “I can _make_ things interesting for you if you want.”

“Oh you’re ridiculous,” I laughed, but I eagerly pulled him in for a long kiss, falling back into the bed together and snogging eagerly, riding his high from the meeting to a fantastic conclusion.

And so, the next day, we had another Rebellion meeting – out in Hogsmeade now, even though in theory we really weren’t supposed to be out there. Still, we had members who weren’t students, and Hermione wanted to include them.

“What did McGonagall even say about having a big rally?” I asked her as we walked out to Hogsmeade.

“I’ll tell you with everyone else,” she responded quietly.

“That can only mean she said yes, you wouldn’t be so cryptic otherwise,” Ernie frowned.

“Just – let me talk, okay?” Hermione sighed. Ernie rolled his eyes and nodded as we all made our way through the Grounds. The land was still swampy, but at least it wasn’t red with blood, so that was a definite plus. And the cleanup of the giant bodies had gone well, too, so things would go back to how they had been before long.

“God I love all this water,” Neville commented as his feet squished through the mud.

“Same,” Sam agreed eagerly, grinning at him.

I rolled my eyes, but personally I would have preferred it a little dryer.

We reached Hogsmeade and there was a crowd of people waiting for us. As we weaved through them, I saw some of them had something painted on their foreheads, but I couldn’t really make out what. The non-DA members of the Teenage Rebellion milled about with the crowd, but the DA all went to the stage that someone had set up for us, and Hermione got out in front.

“Hello,” she greeted, looking a lot more nervous now than she had last week, probably because she wasn’t riding a high of anger and righteous fury.

People murmured back in greeting, but everyone was watching her eagerly, waiting for what she would say next.

“Today’s meeting will be short,” Hermione continued, visibly swallowing, “Because we’ll be having another tomorrow.”

A murmur of confusion went up through the crowd. I tried to make out what people had drawn on themselves, but it was harder to see now that I was farther away than it had been when I was moving through the crowd.

“This meeting tomorrow,” Hermione sighed, “Will be to talk about Dolores Umbridge, and how the Ministry treated us last year.”

More murmuring went up – murmuring of eagerness and curiosity. Some of the adults from Hogsmeade looked especially curious.

“Now I’m sorry to do this to you all, but the meeting will be in Diagon Alley,” Hermione continued. Another murmur went up, louder and angrier – one of protest.

“I know, it’s out of the way, but the Leaky Cauldron has been warned there should be a large number of people flooing in,” Hermione reassured, “We’re going to Diagon Alley because it’s, well, it’s one of the major population centers for wixen in Britain, isn’t it?”

Mutterings of begrudging agreement went through, and I looked over at Hermione in amazement.

“So I know you can’t all come out for it – obviously – I wouldn’t expect you to. But I hope you can find it in your hearts to come in if you can, because we need all the support we can get,” Hermione urged.

“What time?” someone asked.

“Three o’clock,” Hermione nodded, “I’ll be flooing from the Hog’s Head, as will all students – so if you want to make sure you come with us, meet us there at that time.”

Murmurings of agreement went up through the crowd.

“Is that all for today, then?” a man asked.

“Sadly, yes, but I promise tomorrow will be a good one,” Hermione reassured.

The man, a gruff, tall and dark person, nodded. The crowd then dissipated, the rest of the students headed up to the school.

“How’d you get McGonagall to agree to that?” Harry asked in amazement, his eyes wide and glinting. His entire face featured his adoration for Hermione, but I doubt she noticed.

“Oh, I just persuaded her that it was the right thing to do,” Hermione grinned.

“Oh come off it,” Sam laughed.

“Well, it was more along the lines of we’re doing this whether you approve of it or not, so it would be really great if you got us some help,” Hermione laughed, “She helped me pay the owner of the Leaky Cauldron to just ignore that his pub had been turned into a way station.”

“Brilliant,” I laughed, “How are you going to get publicity for Diagon Alley?”

“I bought ad space in the Prophet,” Hermione snorted, “Just said meeting tomorrow in Diagon Alley at three-thirty for all those opposed to You-Know-Who. A simple ad, no mention of who I am or who I was affiliated with, and it should only show up tomorrow morning – if Death Eaters attack, well, it won’t be many of them on such short notice.”

“We hope,” Ernie frowned.

“Well the Order knows what’s actually going on and they’ll be there as guard, so that’s good,” Hermione shrugged.

“You know, I don’t think the Order is supposed to be Hogwarts’ body guard service,” Nadia snorted.

“Eh, I think they’re glad we’re gaining support,” Hermione rolled her eyes, “At any rate, if there’s any trouble tomorrow, we’ll all be ready.”

“Hell yeah we will,” I nodded firmly. Hermione grinned at me happily. I turned to Neville, and his face was lost in thought, but he smiled at me weakly.

“I’m only worried about getting attacked,” he shrugged, “But I think we have to speak, so I’m going.”

I barely slept that night, and neither did he, and not for good reasons. We were up, and we were filled with nervousness and dread. Neither of us particularly liked speaking in front of crowds.

We didn’t eat much at breakfast or lunch, either, for that matter.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” McGonagall hissed at me as she accompanied us down to Hogsmeade, along with a few other professors – Dumbledore, however, was nowhere to be seen. This wasn’t new; this year he often disappeared, though it was especially disconcerting and worrisome after Hogwarts had been attacked.

“I think we have to, don’t you?” I asked her quietly. She sighed, but didn’t say anything more.

I think she knew at this point that so-called Team Potter wouldn’t listen to such concerns.

“Your registration came through and it was approved,” McGonagall continued, “Hopefully there won’t be any follow up.”

“What happens if there is?” I asked.

“Then if they find any discrepancies between your animagus form and what you wrote on the sheet, you’ll probably have to pay a fine,” McGonagall grimaced, “Let’s just hope it doesn’t come to that.”

I nodded, swallowing heavily. After speaking today, it didn’t seem likely that I’d avoid such an inspection.

The students and teachers met up with almost all of the Hogsmeade rebellion members, which was much better than I had thought – on such short notice, I had been convinced very few people would come. As we weaved through the crowd into the Hog’s Head, I tried to get a better look at their foreheads – whatever they had drawn was still there, or perhaps they had applied new symbols, what have you.

We stopped in front of the floo as McGonagall started ushering students through, and Neville reached to hold my hand as I peered through the people to get a better look.

I finally saw one Hogsmeade village resident, and they barely had any hair on their forehead, so I could make it out clearly.

It was a lightening bolt.

I felt my eyes widen in surprise but in that moment McGonagall was rushing Neville and I through the fire, and I couldn’t even tell him want I had seen as I wooshed through it, feeling like I’d vomit from all the soot as I landed in the Leaky Cauldron fire and quickly ran out in to the Diagon Alley street. I looked around wildly for Neville and found him, running to him in the chaos as we all piled into the street, so many of us we overwhelmed it and crowded through it heavily.

“What?” he asked in surprise, looking at my worried facial expression in fear.

“The villagers – they’ve painted lightening bolts on their foreheads,” I hissed.

“You’re kidding,” Neville gasped, looking around for one – upon seeing a completely different villager with a lightening bolt for himself, his mouth dropped open.

“Is this a good thing? Or a bad thing?” he asked in amazement.

“I’m not sure,” I lamented, but soon we were being carted to the steps of Gringotts, the de facto head of the Alley, and I was standing next to Hermione and Harry, and I almost felt like I was going to vomit.

Hermione pointed her wand at her throat and muttered, _Sonorus!_ She then did the same to all the rest of the twelve – though, again, we were down to ten now, without the twins – and then faced the crowd. Shoppers were joining us curiously, and some people were already there, having read the Prophet advert, and were watching Hermione eagerly.

Hermione’s face paled considerably as she realized _how many_ people were there – it was much more than had been in Hogsmeade that first day – the alley was filled with people, there was no room to move or to walk. Shopkeepers looked out angrily; I knew we were majorly disrupting their businesses.

But this had to be done.

I wrung my wrists in terror and Neville next to me was visibly shaking as Hermione opened her mouth to speak.

“Hello,” she greeted calmly, her fists clenched at her sides, probably to keep herself steady.

“We are the Rebellion. Some of us are known as the Teenage Rebellion. Some of us are known as Dumbledore’s Army. Some of _us_ are known as The Twelve,” Hermione introduced, “I am one of those people.”

Murmurs went up through the crowd – so many murmurs at all of these things. It bothered me that I couldn’t make out their words; each indistinguishable syllable grated against my ears with its lack of clarity. What were they saying about her? About us?

“I am Hermione Granger. It is well known that we – the Twelve – were greatly mistreated by the Ministry for insisting that Voldemort was back. After all, Voldemort _was_ back,” Hermione continued, looking terrified and determined at the same time, “And they were denying it. Think of how many moths we could have spent fighting against him, if we had not lost that time. Think of how much we could have pushed back against him, if the Ministry had just accepted facts.”

The crowd – already terrified and shouting in protest at the use of Voldemort’s name – looked guilty, and terrified, and even a little angry. After all, Hermione was right – we _had_ lost a _lot_ of time.

“But I’m not here to talk about that. Voldemort only rose to power because _we,_ as a _society_ , let him,” Hermione continued, “Everything he stands for – all that hatred and prejudice and violence – is just a natural extension of the laws and biases written into our own government. It’s all there. Every step a muggleborn takes is blocked and monitored by the Ministry. Every minute a wixen of color spends alive is spent being marginalized by the powers that be. Every second of every day for countless non-human magical creatures is spent as our slaves, in one way or another.”

More murmuring of anger went up, and some of it was clearly in agreement, but some was against. My heart leapt in my throat, and I reached for Neville’s hand in fear. His was clammy and completely coated in sweat, but he squeezed mine as tightly as he could, and refused to stop squeezing.

“The Ministry, so determined to keep things the way that the powers in charge want them to be, is predictable. They do this every day to minorities, and when we were trying to tell everyone that Voldemort was back, they did everything they possibly could – including illegal things – to keep the status quo. This should not surprise you!” Hermione shouted, starting to get angry – no, she was furious; there was a light in her eyes that could set the world on fire – “This should not shock you! It’s just a more concentrated version of what they’ve been doing all of our lives!”

The murmuring was defensive now; I could garner that much.

“If you don’t believe me about the Ministry mistreating muggleborns, and wixen of color, and nonhumans, and everyone under the sun – maybe you’ll change your mind when they hear how they treated some teenagers who were just trying to save _everyone’s lives_ ,” Hermione sighed. She then stepped back, looking at me in worry, but I smiled at her with as much reassurance as I could muster.

Harry stepped forward then, looking out in determination.

“Hello,” he greeted calmly, “I’m Harry Potter. Most of you know me.”

A laugh went through the crowd, which was good – it was getting so tense it wouldn’t take much to make the atmosphere break.

“Umbridge regularly gave me detention for simply saying Voldemort was back. True, I did so in an angry and disrespectful manner – perhaps I should not have, I don’t know,” Harry admitted, “But during these detentions, she repeatedly made me write _I must not tell lies_ with a quill that caused those words to be etched into my hand.”

Harry held up his hand, where the words were still somewhat raw and visible. A gasp went up through the crowd.

“Umbridge routinely belittled me, and called into question my sanity and intelligence,” Harry continued, “She wondered if perhaps I was too violent to live with other students – and when she had my classmates with her, she would insult me and try to make me seem much more imbalanced than I actually am. She threatened me with the cruciatus curse and tried to sneak me Veritaserum, to see what Dumbledore’s Army was up to, when all we were doing was teaching ourselves defensive magic – something she outright refused to do, not wanting us to have an insurrection against the Ministry.”

Harry grimaced comically, and more laughter went up in the crowd at the fact that we were now doing just that.

“Little did she know, eh? Little did she know that she caused us to do just that – and before term even started, she sent Dementors after me and my family, to either suck out our souls or to get us to use magic, to expel us,” Harry sighed, “And, in the end, her threats and treatment of us made us run away – we spent months living in the woods, on the run, with no magic and no way to find food or protect ourselves. We were attacked by Ministry officials like violent criminals, and I was captured by Death Eaters, along with some of my friends. I nearly died – we all did – and it was all because she made us feel so unsafe in our own school that we had to leave.”

Everyone was dead quiet, hanging on to every word. Harry stepped back, and Sam stepped forward.

“She mocked me for losing my parents as a baby, and for my race,” he murmured quietly, “She slapped me and made me write that I was a coward using that same quill pen. I am Sam Lee, and the Ministry tortured me too.”

“She called me poor, and weak, and a traitor for being a pureblood not willing to put up with muggleborn prejudice,” Ginny stood up next, Sam clearly not wanting to give a big speech – maybe none of us really needed to, after Harry, “She regularly ridiculed me in class and I got the pleasure of writing that I was worthless on my hand. I am Ginny Weasley, and the Ministry tortured me too.”

“She said I was crazy, a lunatic, and delusional. She refused to take me seriously in class and mocked every word that came out of my mouth. She said that I was not fit to be alive and that I should be euthanized for the good of humanity, since I was so crazy,” Luna whispered, “I had to write that I was crazy on my hand. I am Luna Lovegood, and the Ministry tortured me too.”

I swallowed and looked up at Neville in fear; he kissed my temple, but was too scared to say anything.

“She said I was weak and not as good as my friends and that I’d never amount to anything. She ridiculed me for also being a pureblood that apparently betrayed his race. She enjoyed making me feel dumb as often as possible in class and made me write that I was so on my hand. I am Ron Weasley, and the Ministry tortured me too,” Ron mumbled, looking as ill as I felt.

“She said I was dirty – because I am half black – and said I’d never fit in anywhere because I’m neither really white nor black. She said I’d never protect my best friend,” Claire gestured to Elena, “And that I could never help anyone. She said I was lesser than she because I was half black and made me write that I was a savage on my hand. I am Claire Dewar, and the Ministry tortured me too.”

Elena looked terrified, she looked over at Claire in fear, who reached and held her hand tightly. Elena closed her eyes – the crowd was still silent, watching all of us in horrified amazement – as Elena gathered her courage.

“She said I’d never amount to the same power as my siblings. She said that when I attempted to kill myself the year before, I should have succeeded. She tried to get me to cut myself in front of her and once or twice succeeded with her words. She insisted I was weak and no help to anyone and that my siblings would have preferred it if I were dead. She called me a savage and that I’d never fit in anywhere because I was only half white. I am Elena Johnson, sister of Maggie Johnson and Harry Potter, and the Ministry tortured me too,” she managed to say, her voice shaking on every word and tears leaking out of her eyes. Claire visibly squeezed her hand tightly and Harry walked across the steps to hug Elena, and a murmuring of horror went up through the crowd.

“She called me a filthy mudblood,” Hermione stated calmly, and shouts of protest went up around the crowd, “She called me dirty and a freak. She said I was a heathen not fit to live amongst civilized people, as I am Jewish and Arabic. She would kick me often and slap me and constantly ridiculed me in class. She made me write I know nothing on my hand and threatened to torture me on a regular basis. I am Hermione Granger, and the Ministry tortured me too.”

I felt like I was going to vomit, and Neville looked at me in worry. I shook my head rapidly – unable to say anything, even though this whole ordeal had been my idea. My mouth was glued shut. Neville stepped forward, still holding my hand, and swallowed.

“I am agender. It means I am neither a boy nor a girl. This did not agree with Umbridge’s worldview,” Neville whispered, but the sound managed to carry with the magic, “Umbridge constantly tried to get me to admit to being a boy. Once or twice she coerced me into doing so. She threatened the people I cared about repeatedly in front of me. She got me to carve I am a boy into my hand. She chopped off my hair because she didn’t think boy should have long hair in a violent and violating way, and even threatened to rape me into admitting I was a boy, or convince me I was a boy. She cast the cruciatus curse on me and tried to kill me. I am Neville Longbottom, and the Ministry tortured me too.”

I felt my mouth drop open in horror – while I knew bits and pieces of everyone’s story, everyone had a surprise for me that day – but I hadn’t expected Neville to. I had never hard about her threatening to rape him. He shook his head at me, looking more tired than I had ever seen him.

It was my turn, and I couldn’t wait any longer.

“She locked me in a room overnight every night for a week to try and get me to break,” I whispered, “She didn’t tell me she’d do this the first night and she traumatized me for life, especially since at the time I required aid to sleep without nightmares. She also got me to carve into my hand that I was an animal. She routinely called me an animal and dehumanized me. She threatened my transfiguration research and constantly spied on me and made me feel paranoid and constantly afraid. She put the cruciatus curse on me twice, unprovoked, to try to get information out of me. We fought shortly after that – she was trying to stop me from escaping with my friends – and she tried to kill me, and nearly succeeded, and I lost a lot of blood. In the fight, she nearly killed Minerva McGonagall, and Severus Snape as well. She attacked me viciously, and without remorse, and shot multiple Unforgivable Curses at me to do so. I still have nightmares about it, and I only survived because my pet –a bird transfigured into a _Velociraptor_ , a sanctioned research project – saved me at the last minute. I am Maggie Johnson, and the Ministry tortured me too.”

I was so amazed I hadn’t vomited, I barely registered the uproar that went through the crowd.

“No one is safe!” Hermione shouted over the sudden chaos, “No one is safe from the Ministry trying to control them! They monitor our thoughts and opinions and identities to get their way! Are we really surprised someone as evil as Voldemort came from our society, when our society is clearly capable of great evil all on its own?”

Angry chants of agreement went up with her.

“Sign this sheet!” Hermione pulled out the increasingly tattered sheet of paper, “Sign it, and say you’ll stand with us – say you’ll stand with us against the Ministry, against Voldemort, against hate and prejudice and terror – say you’ll stand for goodness and acceptance and equality and for no one’s children to ever have to be threatened and dehumanized and tortured again – sign it, and stand with Harry Potter, and his family, and his friends – and maybe, just maybe, no one will ever have to go through what we have gone through, again.”

The angry crowd milled forward and Hermione stood there with the sheet, Harry standing protectively over her. I looked over at Neville, waving my wand to take off the amplification charm.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked him, swallowing heavily.

“Honestly Mags? It happened before we were together, and I didn’t want to think about it. I wanted to pretend it had never happened,” Neville whispered, “Remember those two weeks I got detention at the beginning of the year? It was during that. I blocked it from my memory, because I couldn’t deal with it. But as I started talking right now – as I forced myself to relive it, to think about all she had done to me again – as I heard everyone else talk about what she had done –“

“It came back,” I whispered. He nodded.

“I’m sorry – oh Nev, I’m so sorry,” I whimpered.

“It’s okay,” he murmured back as the people milled forward to sign the sheet – almost half of the people in Diagon Alley that weren’t already with us – “It’s okay. She’s gone now, she’s in Azkaban, and she’s never going to be in a position to hurt us again. Honestly, her putting you under the curse twice is more horrifying to me now than that is, no matter how much I repressed it.”

I nodded, and hugged him tightly around the middle, tears pouring from my eyes into his shirt.

The Ministry would pay for this.

If it was the last thing I did, I’d make sure the whole thing burned to the ground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, PLEASE comment. I only got one yesterday and while it was a lovely one, I really do require multiple comments for my writing - it's my main source of encouragement and inspiration. Book reports are best, but even offhanded comments on something you like or just "good job!" are better than nothing, too. Thanks, and please let me know what you thought.


	96. Chapter Ninety-Five: October 7 - 14, 1996, Hogwarts, Edinburgh and Cardiff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I created the Sound of Madness.  
> Wrote the book on pain.  
> Somehow I'm still here,  
> To explain,  
> That the darkest hour never comes in the night.  
> You can sleep with a gun.  
> When you gonna wake up and fight... for yourself? 
> 
> I'm so sick of this tombstone mentality,  
> If there's an afterlife,  
> Then it'll set you free.  
> But I'm not gonna part the seas  
> You're a self-fulfilling prophecy.  
> You think that crying to me,  
> Looking so sorry that I'm gonna believe,  
> You've been infected by a social disease.  
> Well, then take your medicine."  
> ~ Shinedown, "Sound of Madness."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for mentions of torture

Chapter 95: October 7 – 14, 1996, Hogwarts, Edinburgh and Cardiff

“Well, you got what you wanted,” Harry sighed the next day at breakfast, splaying out the Daily Prophet and it’s public denouncement of us. I read it eagerly over his shoulder, and in it it did not deny what had happened, only that ‘Umbridge was a fringe member of our government’ and ‘We do not and did not condone her actions at the time, and would never treat innocent students in such a manner.’

“Well no one’s going to believe _that_ ,” I laughed cheerfully.

“This is perfect!” Hermione agreed happily.

“I just hope no one tries to attack you – or punish you,” Dean frowned nervously.

“Well hopefully we’ll have a buffer for a while given the very _nature_ of what we talked about,” Neville nodded, looking determined.

“Punish the kids who got tortured by an authority figure? Not happening,” Ginny snorted.

“For now,” Dean reminded her, frowning even more.

“Well let’s just enjoy that then,” Harry rolled his eyes, “I don’t think we have time to worry about it extensively.”

“Enjoy having people on our side… what a foreign concept,” I joked, smirking at Harry. He rolled his eyes again, but they looked simply tired. It hadn’t exactly been an easy day for any of us.

“Well we better get to Defense,” Hermione sighed.

“Do you ever just… _forget_ … we have school?” I frowned.

“Sometimes,” she agreed, “We certainly aren’t children anymore.”

“Except we are,” Neville’s brow furrowed, “We’re children and we _aren’t_ children. I don’t know – I don’t know how to act, at all, anymore. Do I act like a child or like an adult? Do I reject the burdens that have been placed on me, or embrace them? I don’t know.”

We all sat there deep in thought, but soon we had to acknowledge Hermione’s original statement – we still had classes, after all.

That evening, while everyone went to Group, I went up to the Room of Requirement to study on my own – I was looking forward to the solitude, given that everyone was sort of crowding together of late. I went in, plopping onto the couch and pulling out my Arithmancy book, ready to get started studying.

“Welcome?”

I looked up in shock to see Sam sitting at a table, reading a book of his own.

“Why aren’t you at Group?” I asked him curiously, frowning in surprise.

“I didn’t really have the emotional energy to go today?” Sam offered, “Not after Sunday.”

“Makes sense,” I admitted, “Sorry, I can go if you want me to.”

“Nah it’s fine,” Sam shook his head, “I’m just studying for Medicinal.”

“What’s that class like?” I asked curiously.

“Good,” Sam nodded, “The first year we do anatomy and physiology actually, the second year we do basic magical healing. Most of the real hands on stuff is after-Hogwarts training.”

“So you’re studying muggle science?” I grinned eagerly.

“Yes,” Sam rolled his eyes, “Though I’m not studying what I’m supposed to.”

“You, being a bad student? Say it ain’t so!” I protested jokingly. Sam stuck his tongue out at me in amusement.

“I mean, this stuff will be covered later on, but at the _very end_ of the school year, and I wanted to study it now, I’m ahead on the material we _are_ covering, and dammit, what if we aren’t even in school long enough? Hogwarts is getting attacked after all,” Sam explained.

“Fair points,” I admitted, “So what are you studying?”

“Reproductive system actually,” Sam admitted, “After hearing about everything with our trans friends and the forcible Ministry-provided surgeries and such, I wanted to study this – I think maybe having a good knowledge of how reproductive systems function and are structured would be a good thing, especially for the Alliance.”

“That’s really smart,” I agreed, “Is it interesting?”

“Very, actually,” Sam laughed, “The way uterus-havers go through pregnancy is just… well, it’s interesting, let’s leave it at that.”

“Horrifying?” I asked, laughing.

“Yes,” Sam chortled, “ _But_ the body is programmed really well into making sure uterus-havers want to have kids anyway – or at least, a majority do.”

“Of course it is, I mean, reproduction is one of the big goals of biology,” I smirked.

“Exactly,” Sam nodded, “And uterus-havers are as tough as nails. I admire you lot.”

“Thanks,” I grinned proudly.

“At any rate, learning all this stuff has inspired some of my more… interesting sketches,” Sam sniggered.

“Oh god, dicks? Did you draw dicks? Please tell me you haven’t been drawing dicks,” I groaned.

“Give me some more credit! My art is _much_ more sophisticated than that,” Sam protested.

“Fine, then vaginas?” I laughed.

“Closer – I’ve been doing some weird modernistic pieces on uteruses to be honest,” Sam admitted.

“Of course you have,” I groaned, rolling my eyes.

“Want to see?” Sam asked eagerly.

“I’m – I’m good, Sam,” I snorted.

“Oh come on!”

“I don’t want to see your freaky uteruses!”

“Support your local artist!”

“I have more important things to worry about!”

“Like what?”

“The integrity of my eyes, for one thing!”

“Just one sketch!”

“Why do you want to torture me, for the love of –“

“I’m telling you they’re thought provoking!”

“That’s exactly why I don’t – oh for the love!” I shouted as he basically tried to shove the sketchbook in my face. I quickly sprinted out of the way and he chased me around the room of requirement, laughing his smug ass off as I leapt over tables and chairs.

“Oh for the love of Merlin, _fine!_ ” I snapped, grabbing the sketchbook from him and panting against the wall after much too many minutes of this insanity. Sam grinned happily as I looked – sure enough, the drawings were of women _as_ uteruses, and some were peeling them off of themselves, others were standing with them proudly – quite a few of them were torn, and many of them were trying to shrink them. It was all very surrealist and strange.

“You’re a weird dude, Sam,” I snorted.

“Thank you,” he responded honestly, chortling softly as I shoved the sketchbook back at him.

“That was _not_ a compliment, you freak,” I sniggered, but I smiled at him in reassurance. Sam rolled his eyes and returned to his table and his textbook. I returned to mine, and we studied together in comfortable silence, me occasionally sniggering about Sam drawing a bunch of uteruses, and Sam flicking tiny pieces of paper at me every time I did this.

The next day at lunch, Shae came up to me at the table, an extraordinarily serious expression on her face. I looked up in shock, frowning at her as my friends around me continued chatting and eating as always.

“Come, we have some work to do,” Shae hissed softly. I nodded and quickly got up from the table, giving Neville a parting kiss on his forehead as his cheeks puffed out with whipped potatoes.

“Where ya goin’?” he asked through the food, some of the potatoes flying out of his mouth.

“Shae needs my help with sommat, I’ll see you in Charms,” I reassured, kissing him on the forehead again and wiping the potatoes from the corner of his mouth. He smiled at me lovingly as I left, jogging slightly to keep up with Shae.

“So America sent its envoys,” Shae hissed quietly.

“Envoys?” I asked in confusion.

“Riders and Halflings,” Shae clarified.

“Holy shite,” I gasped.

“Yes, and there are many,” Shae swallowed, “I’m not sure how we’re supposed to keep this a secret.”

“Well crap,” I groaned.

“We have to keep them in the woods – I think – I’m not sure,” Shae groaned, “There are a lot of things up in the air right now, and I don’t think we can keep this out of the public eye.”

“They aren’t going to be happy,” I muttered.

“Hopefully they’ll see it as the good thing it is?” Shae offered, but she was grimacing as she realized the complete and utter bullshit of her words.

“Well, let’s just get out there,” I sighed, and we hurried into the woods, following the path to Herin’s territory and waiting.

Herin was the first to come into our vision; she nodded at us and stood there, always an intimidating sight. The next to appear was a huge dragon – just as big as Herin – with four legs, huge wings, and scales as black as ink.

“Oscuro!” I gasped. Oscuro nodded at me, smirking in the way dragons do – obviously trying to imitate human expression but just coming off as terrifying as possible.

Jethro walked out from behind Oscuro, nodding at me grimly. He looked much the same as I remembered him, if a little older – somewhat tan, long black hair, large hooked nose, a short curly black beard, and piercing brown eyes.

“Hello Maggie,” he nodded again, “How are you?”

“Better?” I offered.

“Good enough,” he acknowledged, but the conversation was stilted and awkward – not like he had been a huge fan of me back in the day. He was soon followed by Richard, who was still tall, with the darkest and deepest skin I had ever seen, his curly black hair cropped to his head and his eyes still brilliantly brown. Behind him appeared an orange dragon, about the size of Shae when she was transformed, two legged and two armed, with long elegant wings and streamlined scales.

“Hello Maggie,” Richard greeted, with a wider smile.

“Hey Richard,” I nodded, smiling back.

“This is Najhi,” Richard introduced his partner. Najhi nodded at me, and I nodded back, starting to feel somewhat on display.

Kira came out next, followed by a medium sized, four-legged purple dragon. She smiled weakly at me, still with light brown skin and straightened black hair, extremely muscular and extremely tall.

“This is Garo,” she introduced, pointing to the purple dragon, who nodded at me. Garo was basically a larger, purple version of my own dragon form.

Rhetta came out then, still plump and dark skinned, with short and curly black hair. We just smiled at each other weakly; she didn’t have a partner to introduce.

Hugo came out then, too, still large and tanned with long curly black hair. He grinned at me, and behind him a _huge_ white dragon – the same species as Oscuro, but the exact opposite color – walked out.

“This is Fin,” Hugo introduced, “Good to see ya, Maggie – clean too, Shae tells me.”

“Yeah,” I laughed, “Er, I have a bone to pick with you about that.”

“Hey, I have acknowledged my mistakes!” Hugo laughed.

A few more people walked out then and introduced themselves – Tikaani, a Cherokee man who looked really similar to my grandmother, who was a Halfling; Jean, a white Rider woman with long blonde hair and a large dragon like Oscuro and Fin, but dark brown in color named Wesik; two riderless dragons who were mates and there to help, the same species as all the other large ones, but green and cerulean respectively – Emralda and Thailus; a Halfling man named Jin who was Korean; Kylie, a redheaded woman with a billion freckles who was a rider, with her dragon that didn’t have forelimbs, only long hindlimbs and regal wings and golden coloration named Amityh; Pill, a man with pale skin and black hair and a hooked nose who was a Halfling; Corrine, a Halfling woman with long black hair and dark skin and Indian features, similar in appearance to the Patil twins; and a Mexican rider named Jesús, with long black hair in a braid and a medium sized, two legged dragon that was bright yellow and named Unu.

“How… are you all going to hide here in the woods?” Shae asked in bemusement.

“You know, we really have no idea,” Hugo acknowledged.

“There certainly isn’t enough room for us all to remain unnoticed,” Jethro sighed, “We were hoping you had an idea.”

“I didn’t realize the government would send this many people – frankly I’m a little panicked, and at a loss,” Shae groaned.

“Does Dumbledore know we’re here?” Kylie asked.

“He does, but he also doesn’t know how many of you there are,” Shae bemoaned, running her hands over her face and through her hair in exasperation.

“Maybe we shouldn’t keep our appearance a secret,” Jethro suggested.

“Oh god, no, do you realize how negatively these people would act –“

“Do they really have a choice?” I asked softly.

“Probably not, but we shouldn’t actively encourage this crap!” Shae muttered.

“Well, I don’t think we can keep them out here in the woods like this. The full dragons, sure, but the people who are, you know, human, and enjoy things like _bathing_ and _toilets_ need to go to Hogsmeade,” I shrugged sadly.

“Fuck –“

“It’s alright, we’re just a group of human tourists, chilling in London,” Richard joked.

“You’re in Scotland,” Shae and I answered in unison.

“Don’t mix it up you’ll get yourself killed,” I clarified.

“Well crap,” Corrine groaned.

“Just remember you’re in Hogsmeade, you’re American tourists, and you’re just looking to see some of the local color,” Shae insisted.

We lead the group through the forest and to the road to Hogsmeade, trying to look normal and frankly failing miserably. All the Riders and Halflings _looked_ like they had been traveling for days; everyone stared at them like they were alien, or threatening.

“Oi, it’s one of those rabble rousers!”

I felt myself freeze up as I turned around to see an angry, pale man glaring at me in the street. People stopped milling about, looking to see what the commotion was about.

“You’ve disrupted _days_ of shopping, people are afraid because of yeh, and you’re trying to overthrow what little peace we have left! Are you proud of yerself, lass?” he scoffed, before spitting angrily on the ground in front of me.

Shae snarled angrily next to me as I looked at the man in complete shock.

“Bet yer the reason why we’re getting attacked now, too – bleedin’ Death Eaters – never had this kind of trouble before you brats tried to ruin everythin –“

“Shut up,” Shae hissed.

“Why should I, American bitch?” the man snorted.

“Because we’re walking through the village peacefully like everyone has a right to do, and you’re being a hateful idiot,” Rhetta stated calmly.

“Get out of my damn country you –“ then the Scottish man stated a fairly violent racial slur.

“Hey!”

“Watch it!”

“Shut your face!”

“Fuck you!”

The Riders and Halflings continued shouting in protest, and some villagers joined in – all those who did had lightening bolts painted on their foreheads. Some who didn’t even protested, shocked by the tone of the man’s discourse.

“Get away you filth!” the man shouted, shoving Tikaani, and he was too furious to let that slide – suddenly he transformed into a dragon, a wyvern actually – no forelimbs, a long twisting tail and silver grey scales – and everyone in the street who _wasn’t_ a Rider or a Halfling started screaming in fear.

“Oh for the love of Merlin, he’s an animagus!” I shouted. The Scottish man had run away like the coward he was, and Tikaani quickly calmed down, transforming back and falling to the ground in a huff.

“He’s just a bleedin’ animagus!” I repeated.

“Who is a dragon animagus?”

“How is that possible?”

“Why is he in this country?”

“He’s going to attack us all!”

“Oh fuck,” I groaned as many of the people who did _not_ help us when the man was being helpful started shouting and screaming in protest. Tikaani groaned in remorse and Shae quickly waved her wand at herself and opened her mouth to speak.

“Guess what?” she shouted, and everyone fell silent.

“We are from America – I have lived in this village a long time, you all know me as a good customer and friendly neighbor,” Shae continued. Many of the people nodded.

“I am also a dragon animagus,” Shae continued. More protests went up, but she talked over them, “We’re called Halflings. Back in America, you see, people work together _with_ dragons to protect the country.”

“You can’t work with dragons! They’re monsters!”

“That’s what you think,” Jethro snorted.

“Dragons, if you treat them like equals – like people – actually _want_ to work together with humans, because, you know, they don’t want to be hunted into extinction,” Shae continued, “So many of us here are Halflings, but many of us here are Riders – people who have partnered up with a dragon to serve the American army – and we are here at Dumbledore’s request to help fight the Giants, who have sided with the Death Eaters.”

“And what will stop the Death Eaters from getting their own Riders and Halflings to fight _you_?” one person shouted in terror.

“It’ll just become chaos!” another agreed.

“Dragons fighting dragons –“

“No self respecting dragon allied country would align with Death Eaters,” Shae snorted.

“Keep the dragons out of our country!” someone shouted in fear.

“Don’t be ridiculous, there have been dragons here forever, you can’t kick them all out!” I screamed.

“No one is safe!”

“They’ll burn everything to the ground!”

“Partnered with dragons – have you heard anything more ridiculous –“

“Oh shite,” I groaned angrily.

“Give us a chance to prove ourselves!” Rhetta shouted, but her voice was so calm that everyone grew silent, waiting for her to speak again.

“Give us a chance to prove ourselves,” Rhetta continued calmly, “We’ll fight the next time the Death Eaters come, and we’ll _show_ you how vital and helpful and _strong_ we are. We’re on your side – Dumbledore wouldn’t have asked us to come otherwise.”

“You get one chance,” one villager sneered.

“That’s all we need,” Rhetta responded honestly. The villagers broke up, all the ones who hadn’t defended Rhetta earlier muttering mutinously – but many of the ones who had helped defend her without scars on their foreheads, talked to those who had painted the scars on theirs. As the Americans went to the Three Broomsticks to try and reserve a room, I hesitated around one of these conversations, eagerly trying to listen.

“Your scar means you’re standing with the Teenage Rebellion, yeah?”

“Of course – did you hear what that man said –“

“Yes, I was skeptical before, but now I see – how’d you do it?”

“I just used some paint – made it meself with a potion – here, I have it in my bag just for this sort of thing.”

“Thanks Helen – between this and what that Umbridge woman did to those kids –“

“Can’t let it happen anymore, that’s for sure.”

“You think these dragons will be good?”

“I think if Maggie Johnson is with them, there’s a good chance they’ll be vitally helpful.”

I scurried away to the pub, shaking from head to foot.

There was such a stark contrast between sides, that I feared from my very core that we might just be making things more divided than ever.

Indeed, as the days went by and we tried to continue with our own everyday lives, many pieces appeared about the rebellion now in the Quibbler, _Witch Weekly_ , the Prophet, and other more minor articles. Letters started flooding in, and the one thing all of these different forms of communication and media had in common was the polarity. About half of the letters were from people who agreed with us – _vehemently_ – and the pieces called for support of us and real reform in the Wixen world. But then the other half called us radicals, violent and determined to distract from the real problem, the Death Eaters and You-Know-Who.

“This is good,” Hermione kept insisting, “We’re being _talked about._ We’re forcing people to think about us, and the things we say, and the things the Ministry has done – this is absolutely perfect.”

“Shit’s going to hit the fan, Hermione,” Neville shook his head in bemusement, “The Ministry isn’t going to ignore this forever.”

“Which is why we capitalize – we have to have more speeches,” Hermione stated firmly, “We work and do as much as we can _while_ the Ministry is ignoring us.”

“It’s going to be a while before they feel comfortable punishing us,” Harry explained calmly, gesticulating into the air, “When we made such an important point of how Umbridge treated us – if they so much as touch us they’re going to get picketed, maybe even _torched_ , by the people who have aligned themselves with us.”

I felt a thrill go up in my stomach and I squeezed Neville’s hand tightly. I wanted to burn them. I wanted the rebellion to burn the whole institution to the ground – that hadn’t gone away since the rally in Diagon Alley.

Hermione was looking up at Harry with the utmost adoration, and Harry was flushing madly and clearly attempting to ignore it, which was the most frustrating thing I had ever had to witness.

“Well then, we speak this weekend again. Saturday and Sunday. Send different DA members out to talk about what happened when we all ran away,” I shrugged, smirking at Neville, who smirked back at me. His fingernails were painted black today; he had decided purple was not the color for the current climate, even though it was his favorite nail polish.

Green didn’t go with his skin, he claimed, even though it was his favorite color.

That Thursday I went down to Spellweaving and eagerly sat next to Ernie, looking at him happily.

“Oh Merlin,” he groaned, “What’s that grin about?”

“She probably finally didn’t have crazy thoughts,” Malfoy snapped from a corner of the room. I decided to ignore him.

“We’re going to capitalize on the inability of the Ministry to call us out, right now, this weekend,” I explained in hushed tones.

“Oh?” Ernie asked, frowning.

“Yeah,” I nodded, “We think that the other DA members should talk about what Umbridge did to them – “

“I can’t,” Ernie responded simply.

“Why… not?” I asked in confusion as Sam sat next to me and started reading his Ancient Runes book.

“I can’t talk about it, not yet,” Ernie muttered, “It’s too painful. I’m sorry Maggie.”

“It’s alright,” I reassured, still confused, “I understand completely. We have plenty of other people who can talk.”

“Thanks,” he responded softly as Hermione entered the room and sat next to him, and Flitwick followed soon after to begin the lesson in training us to stop manipulating elements like lunatics once again. Malfoy’s inexplicable anger was getting the better of him – he could barely control fire, and I was _finally_ starting to get the hang of it.

 _Oh, how the tables have turned_ , I thought cheerfully, but Ernie’s cryptic response to the idea of the next rally still confused me.

Friday brought with it another round of therapy, that left me emotionally drained – but today I had to go to the Alliance, which made me feel more exhausted than ever. Still, I went, happy to help Neville out and lead the sexuality group.

“So,” I greeted, smiling weakly at all the people sitting there, “Er… what do we want to talk about?”

“You’re the group leader,” Ginny snorted.

“Right,” I admitted, “Well I mean, the thing is is that – if we want to talk about Umbridge – “

“I think I’m all Umbridge-d out for a while,” a younger Hufflepuff I didn’t know snorted.

“Fair enough,” I admitted, “Well how about erasure? I mean, as that one guy said – the people I’ve dated seriously here both look like guys. Doesn’t make me any less of a pansexual, but still, my identity is constantly and consistently erased.”

“It’s really annoying,” Ginny agreed, “People constantly assume that you’re monosexual based solely on the person you _are_ dating or _have_ dated.”

“Oh, the worst is definitely when they ask you if, when you’re dating someone, that means you’ve chosen to be ‘straight’ or ‘gay,’” Dean grimaced, sticking his tongue out of her mouth, “That’s literally the worst.”

“How many people have decided you’re gay?” Neville asked, grinning.

“Pretty much everyone who isn’t my friend,” Dean sighed, “It’s the most annoying thing – I can appreciate everyone, thanks! Yeesh.”

“The thing I don’t get,” Parvati frowned, “Is it’s not hard for people to understand that you, say, like chocolate and vanilla equally – or even just like _both_ – and yet –“

“I mean people also can’t seem to get it around their heads that someone can like cats _and_ dogs equally,” I offered, “Or like both. I think certain things in society are just seen as irreconcilable – “

“Weird how they all tend to be things that are seen as inherently gendered, huh?” Ginny smirked, “I mean, cats are seen as feminine, dogs masculine.”

“And then there’s the struggle when your sexual and romantic orientations are _not_ the same thing,” Peter sighed, “Like, I’m bisexual, but, when it comes to romantic orientation, I tend to really only find myself attracted to women – how do you explain to a potential sexual partner that there’s no way this could be romantic?”

“It’s a difficult conundrum,” I agreed, “Anyone else want to comment on it? How they might deal with it?”

“Well,” Anthony frowned, “I’m aromantic, so, it’s a wee bit awkward for me – I’ve snogged a couple of people, but, I mean, they always tend to be… disappointed when I don’t want to go on a bleedin’ date with them.”

“It’s insensitive, really,” Vanessa, a Hufflepuff third year who had been in the DA from the beginning, if quiet, “I’m in a similar boat.”

“Yeah,” Siobhan, who had been quiet and barely a presence in my life since fourth year, murmured, “I’ve only been romantically attracted to one person, and well, they turned out to be a terrible person, so…”

I swallowed and averted my eyes awkwardly. Neville smiled at me reassuringly from his corner of the group.

“Something I’ve never understood,” Sam interjected, alleviating the awkwardness and rescuing me, “Is how people think being bisexual makes you transphobic.”

“Yeah!”

“Seriously!”

“What is _up_ with that?”

“How off key could you _be_ about something?”

“Like, I’m not bisexual – or at least, I identify more with pan,” Sam paused, “But if bisexual is the attraction to two or more genders –“

“Even if it _was_ attraction to men and women – that means that they, more than anyone else, is not going to be miffed by what they find in someone’s pants!” Neville laughed.

“People who think bisexuals are inherently transphobic are transphobic themselves,” I shrugged, rolling my eyes, “They don’t think trans men and trans women are _real_ men and women. They think they’re some sort of other.” Everyone around me nodded in eager agreement.

“ _Speaking_ of biphobia, panphobia, what have you,” Dean frowned, “Ignorance about multisexuals –“

“Yeah?” Sam chortled.

“Don’t you hate when people _won’t_ date you because you’re a multisexual?” Dean grimaced.

“Oh god, when did that happen to you?” Ginny gasped.

“When I revealed to Seamus that I was bi, not gay, we had a bit of a tiff. This was at the beginning of fourth year,” Dean sighed.

“Why did you even date him?” a seventh year Slytherin snorted. A few people glared at him, but Dean calmly collected himself to respond.

“Because he realized he was being a wanker, and apologized,” Dean answered simply.

“It is a huge problem though,” I continued, moving past the rift, “When I was, ah, going through my personal rough patch with myself –“

Neville chortled quietly and Ginny smacked him upside the head.

“I had quite a few women reject the pleasure of my company because they didn’t want to be where, and I am quoting, ‘dick had been,’” I grimaced in disgust, “And many men just wanted to be with me for the possibility of a threesome.”

“I definitely don’t get the mentality that penis magically changes a person,” Ginny snorted, “It’s not some magic wand that the _moment_ it touches you you become this magical other. You are now the chosen one – a penis has touched you. You are no longer fit for lesbian consumption.”

A few members roared with laughter at that, myself included.

“And what is _with guys_ and threesomes with women? I mean yeesh!” Parvati groaned, “You’d think it was the hottest thing in the entire history of the universe.”

“We all have our sexual preferences,” I shrugged, “What bothered me more, I suppose, was them feeling _entitled_ to a threesome with me and another woman – because I was pan – or that they wanted a threesome with me more than they wanted to be with me – because I was pan. It’s that objectification, that turning of me from an individual person to some object they could use to fulfill a fantasy.”

“Exactly,” Ginny nodded rapidly.

“Another pet peeve,” Neville continued softly, smirking a little, “Is when someone tells you to just choose a side.”

“Oh _gawd_ ,” someone groaned.

“Definitely.”

“I’ll just ask you to chose one of your arms, see how you like it!”

“Have any of you ever been called a breeder?” Ginny asked, looking murderous.

“Oh yes,” Sam grimaced.

“It’s the worst,” Parvati hissed.

“Like, never mind that having a baby _isn’t inherently a bad thing_ ,” Neville rolled his eyes.

“But it implies we’re ‘less queer’ – sorry if that offends anyone – and it just really gets me, seriously,” Anthony muttered angrily.

“There’s definitely a sort of hierarchy, in that, homosexuals have disproportionate representation, respect, and resources in the community,” I sighed, “which admittedly isn’t saying much, but it is a problem.”

“People just say the lesbian gay community all the time,” a fourth year Ravenclaw groaned, “Never mind bisexuals, other multisexuals, trans, and asexual people exist.”

“It’s the easiest for heterosexuals to wrap their minds around I think. They see it as literally just liking a different flavor of ice cream the best,” Ginny shrugged, “Everything else gets too complicated. Liking _multiple_ flavors _equally?_ Knowing you’re a _different_ flavor of ice cream than what your packaging is? Not liking ice cream _at all_? How could this be!”

“And there’s no help or sympathy for the rest of us,” Neville nodded rapidly in agreement.

“Still, we should be focusing more on changing society, rather than complaining that some people in our very marginalized community have it better in some ways than we do,” I sighed, “Homosexual people aren’t the problem – it’s this society that has pitted homosexual people against heterosexual people, that has pitted all of us against each other. I mean, gays and lesbians _wouldn’t_ be so obsessed with genitalia, if our society wasn’t, would they?”

Everyone nodded rapidly in agreement.

“There’s a mentality – I mean – we yell at lesbians for being transphobic, but – straight men, they _kill_ trans women,” I sighed, “And bisexual men, there’s a stigma against them with both gay men and straight women – after the whole AIDS epidemic –“

“Oh Merlin,” Sam groaned, holding his face in his hands.

“Talk about demonization!” Anthony agreed angrily.

“And even though we have all this fancy Wizarding medicine to counteract it,” Dean glowered, “That stigmatization has carried over to the wixen world – bisexual men are seen as dirty, unclean, and, well, nefarious, aren’t they?”

“Multisexual women are sluts without decency; multisexual men are evil predators, out to make everyone around them dirty,” I nodded, sighing.

“And then there are the rest of us, laughing hysterically,” Neville joked.

“Multisexual nonbinary people don’t officially exist,” I teased, sticking my tongue out at him.

“It’s a double whammy of invisibility!” Ginny agreed, giggling.

“Should I use my powers for evil, or for good?” Neville thought, stroking his chin in mock seriousness.

“Always for evil, obviously,” Anthony chortled.

“I’m quoting you on that when I take over the world and remove gender entirely, making the entire point moot,” Neville grinned.

“A new world order!” Sam cheered, high fiving him.

“Don’t let Umbridge hear you, she’ll explode… wait… never mind,” I giggled.

“Let’s all be honest with ourselves here,” a sixth year Hufflepuff snorted, “We have yet to get to the _real core_ problem with multisexuality, and having to be a multisexual.”

“Oh?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“How there are _too many hot people_ in the world,” the Hufflepuff groaned.

“Oh god,” someone agreed.

“It’s the worst –“

“How do you choose?”

“So distracting, all the damn time –“

“Everyone is too pretty!”

“There needs to be a hotness quotient on any one area –“

“You cannot have more than x number of hot people in one area at one time –“

“But attractiveness is subjective! You can’t impose those standards on humanity!”

“We’re _doomed!_ ”

“it’s the end of days!”

“Better start prepping for the apocalypse – anyone got any canned food?”

“Your muggle-born-ness is showing, Dean –“

“What, it’s practical!”

Everyone started bickering about a fake hotness apocalypse and I sat back, just enjoying listening to the silliness for the rest of the group meeting. Neville went up to the front of the room and told everyone that the meeting for the week was over, and we’d all meet up next week for romantic day; I breathed a heavy sigh of relief.

“You did great, Mags,” Neville reassured, kissing me lovingly on the forehead.

“Just a little nervewracking, that’s all,” I sighed, “I’m not good with this sort of thing.”

“Still you were brilliant, and I’m so thankful you could help me out,” Neville grinned.

“Of course,” I beamed, “We’re a team.”

“Also,” Neville paused, “I don’t say enough, but you are always the hottest person in the room.”

“Oh _please_ –“

“It’s true!”

“That’s impossible because _you_ are the hottest person in every room,” I snorted.

“Oh god,” Neville groaned.

“What?” I asked in genuine concern.

“We’re going to have to have a showdown about this, aren’t we?” he laughed. I shoved him lightly in the arm and he giggled more, kissing me lovingly on the lips.

“I think we’re just going to have to agree to disagree about this one,” I laughed into his mouth.

“Fine, though I think you would have enjoyed my method of showdown,” Neville wiggled his eyebrows.

“Oh?” I laughed, biting my lip in amusement.

“Oh yes,” Neville nodded furiously, “See, it involved creative methods of _showing_ each other that the other person was _obviously_ hotter.”

“You know,” I murmured seductively, kissing him on the jaw and wrapping my arms around him tightly in the empty Defense classroom, “We could… _still…_ do that…”

“Alright!” Neville cheered eagerly, grabbing my hand and dragging me through the corridors, both of us laughing at the top of our lungs as we did so.

The next day, the DA went to Edinburgh, a city that I had mixed feelings about – it was as Scottish as a city could be, and everything felt old and Celtic and fantastic – but I had also been in the deepest depths of my depression when I had been there last. I chose to just enjoy the Scottish part, and ignore the rest.

The crowd was bigger than ever here – even though London was more crowded. There was a small street for Wixen, more hidden than Diagon Alley, and smaller – so the fact that there were more people meant that it was also more crowded. I, and the other students who came (not everyone could, in fact, it was pretty much entirely DA members,) had to all stand at the front of the small square, crowded together as people crowded around us.

As I looked out in the crowd, I saw more and more people with lightening bolts painted on their foreheads. The thought thrilled me to my core – these were people who were choosing to stand with us. I looked over at Harry, who grinned back at me eagerly, his eyes lit up with pure excitement.

“When Umbridge took full control of Hogwarts,” Nadia began, swallowing and looking determined, “It became a militant state.”

A hush went over the crowd – something about Nadia’s voice just commanded the utmost respect and reverence.

“There was no peace, there was no sense of safety. If you weren’t her ideal of a person – if you weren’t a pureblood, a pure human, white, Christian, heterosexual, cis, and obedient to the Ministry – you were not safe. This was a minority of people,” Nadia continued, “Everyone was on edge, constantly – hair on end, eyes always wide, ears always listening. Any moment she could come out of the woodwork, any moment she could be there, ready to inflict fresh torture.”

The silence continued; the tenseness in the air was palpable.

“Even if you _were_ her ideal, you were not safe,” Nadia shook her head sadly, “One student, who fit all those categories and more, had a best friend who was trans. He would not abandon him – he was even on the side of Voldemort, and yet, even he would not abandon his friend to that woman.”

I always forgot that Malfoy had gone through some stuff last year, too. I frowned, and Neville gave me a significant look – but I shook my head vehemently. Now was not the time to discuss this – or even immediately _after_ this – and I still wasn’t going to change my mind.

“I choose to wear the hijab,” Nadia continued, “Because I want people to perceive me as I am, and not for my beauty. Because I believe that it reflects my internal piety and devotion to God. It is my personal choice, and it should bother no one – no one complains when Catholic nuns wear their habits, do they?”

The silence could be cut with a knife.

“And yet, Umbridge ordered one of her few supporters to rip it from my head. It’s pinned in, you know,” Nadia touched it absent-mindedly, “When this student ripped it from my hair, it pulled skin and hair with it – it scratched my scalp and blood was everywhere. I fought back, but for this I got a detention – Umbridge branded me, as she had the twelve, calling me a heathen. I do not even know if she practices Christianity, but I was other, so I must be labeled as other. I have always been a peaceful person. God does not want needless violence, or coercion into the faith, or the harm of noncombatants – but I could not stand for this. I took down Umbridge, because she, and everything she stood for, disrespected me. Dishonored me. Dehumanized me. And I wouldn’t stand for it any longer,” Nadia finished, and her voice hung in the air so heavily and so potently it was as though I could _taste_ the horror and the anger, but the calm and cool determined anger of someone rational and fierce.

“I am not the only one who was hurt in this way, of course,” Nadia continued, stepping back. And Kat stepped forward.

“I am not one for talking,” Kat murmured quietly. The people were still silent – Kat could command the crowd, too.

“I am not one for talking,” Kat repeated, “I’ve been silent most of my life. Only a few people managed to coax me out of my shell before last year. Pete, my best friend. My parents, and my little sister, Pam. They can get me to talk, to enjoy other people. And that was all I needed, for a long time.”

I watched her, feeling my face soften. I could understand so much of that. My circle had been a little wider, but for a long time, all I had needed was a core group of people.

“Umbridge did not like outsiders. Umbridge did not like that I would not respond to her questions. Umbridge did not understand that I have autism,” Kat murmured softly, “Autism – it means my brain does not work like yours. It means I don’t really understand social cues, and how you all interact with each other. It means I think differently, and am sensitive to different things. It means that, in some ways, I am stronger than you – and in others, I am weaker. Just like any person, really – we all have strengths and weaknesses, compared to other people. Mine just happen to be very visible. Mine just happen to bother her, and other people like her, who cannot tolerate differences from the norm.”

I swallowed heavily – what was she going to reveal? Nadia had said nothing I hadn’t really known before.

“Umbridge always made sure that I was the one to answer a question she posed. Umbridge would scream and yell at me for not interacting normally. I have a deep, sort of obsessive interest in wildlife and hunting – she took away my bow and arrows, and she took away my books on nature, claiming that no witch should need such muggle artifacts,” Kat continued, sighing, “She took away almost everything I loved, from the minute she entered the school.”

How I had managed to keep my bow and arrows hidden for so long, when Kat had lost hers, apparently, at the beginning of the year, I had no idea.

“So I joined a club. I joined the DA, because they seemed to hold the solution. I didn’t know how to interact with people – Pete made sure I was okay, but I didn’t really know how to help or what to do. I just learned about how the Wizarding World was geared towards keeping those in power, in power – how it was unkind to people like me, who were different. I grew to love these people – my circle was extended. I couldn’t help it. The feeling, so unnatural to me, was one that crept up on me. When the twelve were taken away, I was filled with a fury I could not contain. When Umbridge started targeting and persecuting students for being different, I no longer tried to contain it,” Kat continued, glaring slightly now, her long dark brown braid of hair swaying behind her as she talked.

“There were the trans lists. The Ministry, you see, knows what your eventual gender identity will be before you do – well, sort of. See, the Ministry knows if you identify as a man, or a woman, or neither. If you’re a woman, but you were assigned male at birth – or vice versa – they’ll help you out. They’ll give you surgery and hormones so you would be indistinguishable from someone who was assigned the correct gender at birth,” Kat took in a deep breath, “Which is a problem all on its own, but one for another day.”

The crowd was still listening intently – no one showed any signs of breaking the tense, serious silence.

“But for those who identify as neither – the Ministry ignores. How can they help them, anyway? How can they know what they’d want changed, and what they’d want the same?” Kat swallowed heavily, “And well, Umbridge couldn’t deal with that. She couldn’t deal with the trans people, either, but the nonbinary – hoo boy, never mind the fact that the Ministry’s list basically proved nonbinary people are real and exist, and nothing about their identity is made up. Umbridge did not agree with this – it contradicted her worldview. If you were on the nonbinary list, you were due to be tortured. And tortured we were.”

People in the crowd looked angry – but were still silent.

The hold this girl had over a crowd was terrifying.

“The worst part was, so many of us – _so_ many of us – didn’t even know we were nonbinary. We found out when Umbridge took us to the front of the Great Hall, pointed us out to all the other students, and said we were freaks, to be ridiculed, mocked, and ignored,” Kat swallowed, “That was how I found out. I still don’t know what my full identity is – all I know is that I am not man or woman. All I know is Umbridge wanted me gone. And I wanted that damn trans list gone. So one day, I burned it.”

I wanted to pump my fist in the air proudly, but I contained myself.

“She burned me in return, but, it was worth it,” Kat murmured, and stepped back from the front of the stage. Hermione got up, but she was shaking – it was hard hearing the full story. She swallowed, looking visibly pained, and looked out over the crowd.

“Umbridge did not only torture the twelve. She tortured all of Hogwarts,” Hermione managed to gasp out, her voice quaking, “And she was not a fluke of the Ministry. The Ministry’s structure, it’s very _function,_ was geared towards _enabling the existence_ of people like Umbridge, Lucius Malfoy, Bellatrix Lestrange, and Voldemort. And we can _not_ let it stand.”

Hermione held out a new piece of parchment – no – it was the old one, just with more added to it.

“Sign, and join us. Make sure this never, ever, _ever_ , happens again,” Hermione whispered.

And now the crowd went up in a roar of agreement and anger.

Almost everyone signed the sheet.

It appeared to be a local thing – Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley had few people join. Edinburgh had _many_. And the next day, that Sunday, when we were in Cardiff, many people joined again.

But that might have been because Peter spoke.

Pete, more so than all the rest of us, could command a crowd, and bend it to his very will.

“We all know that what Umbridge did was wrong. But Umbridge is not unique. Umbridge is not some strange evil that we can label as other, and keep away from us,” Pete began. We were in a square – that’s all Cardiff had, a square for people to file into. It was a sea town, and you could feel that in the air – as a dragon, it made me sick.

Never mind that the rumors of the dragons had spread now, to Cardiff, and when people saw me they started muttering and whispering in fear and awe.

“Umbridge was a real person. She’s in jail now, I suppose the past tense is not appropriate – Umbridge _is_ a real person. She had a deep, passionate love of cats. Cats were all over her office. Her favorite color was pink. Once, she had someone she loved, romantically – he turned her down, but she still loved him. Umbridge had ambition, and wanted to climb to the top of pile at the Ministry. Umbridge wanted to protect the system and world she cared about, much as many people do. Umbridge wanted to ensure that she, and people like her, would continue to call the shots, continue to be important, because she thought that that was best. She thought that that group of people was best qualified to be in charge,” Pete swallowed and continued, “I saw her laugh once. Her favorite food was turkey, and she deeply enjoyed tea. Every morning, she filled out a muggle crossword puzzle. A _muggle_ crossword puzzle, because she liked the challenge.”

Everyone was muttering uncomfortably.

“I know this, not because I liked her – god, I hated her – but because I observe people. I see them. I see them complexly, because humans _are_ complex – the world is complex – all of us, every single thing around us, _resists simplicity_. Umbridge was a monster – but she was also human. There were sides to her that were not monstrous – that were as normal as sides of you or me. And that’s the danger. The true, undeniable danger lies in painting people like Umbridge and Voldemort as monsters, as other, as irreconcilably different – because we can comfort ourselves that _we’re_ not like _them._ We can comfort ourselves that there is no way we would participate in the torture of children, in the genocide of muggles. The people who do _that_ aren’t _people_ , they are _monsters_. But they are not. They are human, just like us – with convictions, just like us – but convictions that cause extreme action, extreme action that hurts others. We are all capable of such behavior. We live in a society that _encourages_ such behavior, even though not explicitly. And we have to be aware of it, to better fight it in the future – and fight it now,” Pete continued.

“The danger in thinking of the enemy as an other, is that we then fail to recognize the evil in ourselves – the evil that leads to small acts every day, but acts that add up. Not everyone is an Umbridge, or a Voldemort – but together, our actions add up to long term problems that inflict damage much the same.”

Once again, the tenseness of the air had to be cut with a steak knife.

“If we don’t stop it, who will?”

The shiver that went up my spine was so powerful that I would remember it as clearly as though it had just happened for the rest of my life.

“The Ministry isn’t going to tolerate this for much longer,” Neville whispered quietly as Pete didn’t even have to make a call for people to join – he just held out the sheet, and they followed forward.

“Well, we keep going until they break,” Hermione responded firmly, her eyes narrowed in determination.

“And what happens when they break?” I asked quietly.

“I don’t want to think about that,” Harry muttered, running a hand through his hair nervously.

The thought kept me up that night, staring at the ceiling, and worrying for my friends.

“Well, I think we can get back to work on dinosaur transfiguration – perhaps we should work on a new animal?” McGonagall asked the next day, deliberately ignoring how tired I was.

“Er, yeah – first I think – I should make Blue a family?” I asked timidly.

“I suppose you’ll keep the raven intelligence fluke?” McGonagall asked.

“Well, yes,” I sighed, “I want her to relate to them.”

“Fair enough. I’ll get some ravens from the back,” McGonagall sighed.

“How many?” I asked worriedly.

“I think four is enough, don’t you?”

“Yes,” I agreed, breathing with relief. Five was a nice, decent sized family group for ravens. They usually lived in pairs, but occasionally young ones formed flocks – which, for something the size of Blue, five individuals was good enough for.

McGonagall brought out four ravens in four individual cages, all cawing at each other and rattling about. I looked at her nervously, and she nodded at me.

 _Time to get back into the swing of things_.

I waved my wand, and went down the line of them as McGonagall removed each one from its cage. The first raven was the same yellowish, sandy color as Blue, but instead of a Blue crest and decorative coloration, he had deep, purple coloration. The second had sandy main feathers, but dark red decoration, and was female. The third, taupe main feathers, and also dark red coloration, and was male. The fourth, a female, had taupe main feathers, and a dark blue decoration pattern, almost a mix between the first raptor and Blue herself.

I looked at the four of them in amazement, swallowing.

“Well? They all need names,” McGonagall shrugged.

“You’re – you’re Ave,” I greeted at the first one, who chirped at me curiously.

“You’re Penny,” I nodded at the second one, who cocked her head to the side to look at me.

“You’re… Mong,” I nodded at the third one, who chirped at Penny, who chirped back.

“And… you’re Deena,” I nodded at the last one, who chirped happily at me.

“Er… let’s go meet Blue,” I nodded, walking out of the room. The raptors, who knew me as ravens, followed eagerly – I could hear McGonagall audibly sigh behind me as we rotated and walked into my bedroom.

 _I’m going to need more bedding_ , I thought worriedly as we went inside.

Blue stood up and chirped in confusion at the sight of four new raptors. The raptors all scurried forward to Blue, and they all began sniffing each other. I watched the proceedings nervously, wringing my wrist and hoping sincerely that none of them would hurt each other.

Blue and Ave started chirping at each other extensively, before nuzzling each other. I let out part of my breath as Blue then went and did the same with all the others – in fact, they all started nuzzling each other and chirping, and I let out all of the air from my lungs in relief.

Blue turned to me and started chirping and hopping up and down excitedly, and I grinned back at her.

“See? Told you I’d do it,” I laughed.

Blue chirped again and she and the others started chirping back and forth at each other, with a snarl and hiss mixed in here or there. The sound was loud, overwhelming, and amazing.

“I’ll take you all out to hunt soon – man that should be fun,” I laughed.

I sat down with them and let them jump and scurry around me, laughing my head off as they played with each other and inspected their new environment – making sure to scold them if they got close to mauling the furniture, or god forbid, Neville’s books on genetics.

 _Guess I better start thinking of… bigger projects_ , I mused as Penny sat in my lap and let me pet her behind her crest.

I needed to come up with something to fight the giants.

The door to the bedroom opened, and I looked up in amusement to see Neville walk in. He stopped in his tracks and his mouth dropped open at the sight of five raptors all scurrying around and chirping happily.

“What the – bloody – hell –“ he stammered, his face still contorted in an expression of the utmost confusion.

“Er… surprise?” I offered, grinning awkwardly.

“Maggie,” Neville sighed deeply, rolling his eyes in exasperation, “You are insane.”

“And that’s why you love me,” I responded cheerfully, beaming at him.

“Well obviously,” he laughed, leaning in and kissing me, “I’m just going to get you back for this, obviously.”

“Oh, I shudder to think,” I giggled, and he quickly turned to bond with the raptors as I happily enjoyed their noise and chaos.

This was the sort of thing I was meant for.

And hopefully, I’d live through the war to do it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOLY CRAP THAT'S A LOT OF COMMENTS! Thank you all SO SO SO SO MUCH. I'll respond to them soon! I'm so glad you're all liking the story and I really appreciate all the feedback - I couldn't update yesterday because I was traveling, but trust me, that chapter was written MUCH FASTER because of all your feedback! So PLEASE keep it coming!!!!!!!!!
> 
> Also, the image at the end is another commission I got AGES ago of that moment when they're all walking in the hallway - ah Team Potter, my precious children... by http://dellbelle39.tumblr.com/! 
> 
> (If you want to draw my children, go right ahead. You'll probably kill me with happiness in the process, but, there you go.)


	97. Chapter Ninety-Six: October 15-17, 1996, Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "We think too big, we think our self is one whole thing   
> And we claim that this collection has a name and is a being   
> But deep inside, when every cell divides   
> It sets upon the rule that states self-interest is divine 
> 
> Cancer, too, lives by this golden rule   
> That you must do unto the others as the others unto you   
> All for the best, cause that’s all the life accepts   
> And so we kill it like a buffalo, with awe and with respect"   
> ~ Danny Schmidt, "This Too Shall Pass."

Chapter 96: October 15 – 17, 1996, Hogwarts

“We can’t keep using the Floo Network.”

I looked up at Hermione in confusion, my brow furrowing rapidly.

“Er, what?”

“The Ministry isn’t going to authorize it anymore,” she snarled angrily, her hair pulled back into a ponytail, which was always a worrisome occurrence – either she was extraordinarily busy, or extraordinarily pissed.

It was her frazzled hair, and it was _never_ a good sign.

“Well you can’t really blame them, I mean, we’re actively calling for revolution,” I frowned, setting down my book on avian and dinosaurian anatomy, bookmarking the page for _Tyrannosaurus rex_.

“We need to figure out a way to move from city to city, though!” Hermione screeched, “We’re screwed! We’re dead in the water!”

“Hermione,” I stated calmly, looking at her with as earnest of an expression as I could, “Breathe.”

Hermione glared at me, but quickly began taking deep breaths, folding her arms across her chest. I glared at her to get her to do that for a few minutes, before finally relaxing my expression when it was clear Hermione’s head wasn’t going to explode.

“We’ll figure something out,” I finally reassured, smiling at her softly.

“How? How will we figure this out?” she demanded.

“We’ll devise another method of transportation,” I shrugged, “I’ll ask around. Fewer people will be able to go to rallies, but I mean, the last two were _so_ crowded, that’s probably a good thing.”

“Fine,” Hermione harrumphed, sitting down angrily across from me in the Room of Requirement, “You have to figure it out before the weekend though.”

“Well let’s have a DA only meeting,” I suggested, “It’s been ages since we’ve done that, and we can discuss it.”

“Tonight?” Hermione asked.

“Sure,” I shrugged, “No time like the present.”

Hermione pulled out her galleon and waved her wand, sending out the message to the other DA members.

“Do you have _any_ ideas?” Hermione asked, looking at me seriously.

“I have a few,” I shrugged, “Like getting muggle transportation.”

“Yes, because the Ministry will be _so_ okay with us –“

“No I don’t mean just taking existing muggle transit. I mean – you know, the Knight Bus and the Hogwarts Express are things. I mean doing something like that,” I clarified.

“Oh,” Hermione frowned, deep in thought, “That’s not a bad idea.”

“We’ll talk it over more, but I think it’ll work, or at least, it’ll lead to a similar, but better, idea,” I reassured, picking up my book again, “Until then, just focus on something else. Elementalism, or charms, or something.”

Hermione snorted and pulled out the books from her bag. She didn’t study for long, though; soon she looked up at me again, her face contorted into another expression of concentration.

“Oh no,” I groaned, “ _Now_ what?”

“Do you think I should just move on?” she asked sadly, her face contorted into an expression of sadness.

“Wait – what?” I asked, my eyes widening in shock.

“Do you think I should just –“

“No, no I absolutely do not,” I hurriedly responded, my brain sent into a flurry of chaos and panic.

“Why… not?” Hermione frowned, looking at me in confusion.

“Because shit’s been chaotic lately,” I managed to choke out, thinking rapidly, “Shit’s been chaotic, and no one has had much time to think of anything like that lately. Harry included – no, _especially_ Harry, since he’s the de facto leader of this mess. Now’s not the time to have _any_ major decisions about such things made, or to really be thinking about this stuff at all, you know?”

“It’s just been so _long_ ,” Hermione sighed, looking dejected.

“What’s a little longer?” I offered, swallowing heavily.

“Time I _don’t_ spend pining over him is more time I can focus on other things,” Hermione pointed out.

“How much do you _pine_ over him?” I snorted, “Come on, _you_?”

“Well… fair,” Hermione frowned.

“Just don’t worry about it. Worry about how we’re going to get to Liverpool on Saturday, or Dublin on Sunday,” I snorted.

“The Ministry isn’t going to stop at that,” Hermione grumbled in annoyance.

“Of course it’s not,” I agreed, “But we have to get as much done before they feel comfortable hard-core punishing us as we can, right?”

“Right,” she agreed, nodding firmly, “ And I don’t know if they’ll ever punish us _directly_.”

“Since we’re intimately tying this shebang up with Umbridge? Probably not,” I agreed, “But they’re going to do something.”

“The worst part is,” Hermione smirked, “With the rate we’re building followers – if they do something – they’re going to have a full on uprising on their hands.”

“Torches and pitchforks?” I grinned.

“More likely than not!” Hermione nodded, “Rioting in the street… destruction of buildings…”

“Good,” I snorted, “I want the Ministry burned to the ground.”

“At this point? So do I,” Hermione smirked.

“So what’s the speaking plan for this weekend? More Tales from the Umbridge… Regime?” I frowned.

“Concentration Camp, more like,” Hermione sighed.

“We did not get killed, though,” I pointed out.

“No, but Kat was _literally_ lit on fire,” Hermione frowned, “I can’t believe we weren’t here to help.”

We both stared at each other in a tense silence; it was hard to not feel guilty when such terrible things happened to our friends while we were running through the woods.

“We went through shite, too,” I reminded her quietly.

“I know,” Hermione admitted, “I know… it’s just… we were responsible for them all… we dragged them into that mess…”

“Now you know why I couldn’t handle Group,” I pointed out shrewdly.

“Yeah,” Hermione sighed, “I’m really sorry about that.”

“It’s okay,” I reassured, “All in the past now. Schedule?”

“Right!” Hermione frowned, “Well, Dean wants to speak, so he’s probably going to in Liverpool. Susan is debating on joining him – she’s shy, but her aunt is the freaking _Minister_ now, so I think she wants to talk about what it’s like actually _inside_ the Ministry.”

I frowned.

My mum had had such a tough time in there… the corruption and prejudice and power structures in the actual Ministry were abhorrent…

“And well, I tried to get Seamus to speak in Dublin, since he’s _Irish_ , but he didn’t want to. I probably will talk myself – maybe about non-humans, since we haven’t covered them much,” Hermione shrugged.

“Sounds like a good plan,” I agreed, still deep in thought about my mum.

“What are you thinking of?”

I looked up at her, “Maybe – not this weekend, I need to build up my courage more – but maybe next one – I should talk about what my mum went through? At the Ministry?”

“I think that’s a good idea,” Hermione nodded firmly, her eyes lighting up with excitement, “I’ll ask around at the DA tonight, see if anyone else can add their stories to what you say.”

“Thanks, that’ll make it easier on me,” I breathed.

“Of course,” Hermione beamed. We returned to studying in silence, when the door to the room of requirement burst open.

Neville stumbled into the room, his shoulder clearly dislocated, and his eye supporting a burgeoning black eye. He had a cut on his lip, and I gasped in horror.

“Neville! Neville, what happened?” I cried, leaping to my feet and running to him. Hermione quickly followed, pulling out her wand.

“Er…” Neville grimaced as Hermione waved her wand and muttered, popping his shoulder back into his socket and fixing his lip.

“Don’t know what to do about the black eye, though,” Hermione sighed.

“It’s fine,” Neville shrugged.

“What happened?” I demanded, my heart in my throat with worry.

“I… um… I tried to get Malfoy to talk to me,” Neville admitted, looking sheepish.

“ _Neville Archibald Longbottom!_ ” I screeched at the top of my lungs.

“Oh please don’t use my middle name, I’m thinking of finding a new one,” Neville muttered.

“ _Neville To Be Determined Longbottom!_ ” I roared, too angry to let him off the hook.

“I just saw him in the hallway, he kicked over a fucking suit of armor! I thought I could get him to talk to me about what he’s been going through!” Neville protested.

“Why did you chose when he was _angry_ , Neville?” Hermione sighed in exasperation.

“I dunno – I figured he would be receptive – wanting to fight back against Voldemort – that sort of thing!” Neville threw his arms up in the air.

“I told you this was dumb! You’re not going to get him on our side!” I screamed.

“I think we have to try! The benefits _far_ outweigh the risk!” Neville shot back.

“He beat you up! That’s not a small risk!” I screeched.

“Oh please, we have to try and find out what he’s up to before he hurts someone who’s innocent!”

“Like you?” I snorted.

“I don’t mind occasionally suffering a beating if it convinces him that our side is worth switching too –“

“You’re going to get yourself killed! Look at you!”

“Are you saying I can’t take Malfoy?”

“Obviously not!” I spat out before I could stop myself. I quickly covered my mouth with my hands, my eyes widening. Neville looked at me in shock before leaving the room in a huff and slamming the door behind him.

“Fuck,” I groaned, running my hand through my hair.

“Run after him,” Hermione sighed, looking exhausted. I nodded and quickly sprinted out of the room, running to catch up with Neville and grabbing ahold of his arm.

“Neville,” I begged. He briefly tried to wrench his arm out of my grip, but stopped himself and turned to face me in irritation.

“Neville, I’m sorry,” I began, “Look, I think you can – I mean – you’re an _amazing_ person at Defensive Magic, okay? I just think – I think Malfoy is like a trapped animal – and you’re cornering him even more! Trapped animals are horrifically violent and then you’re making it worse – he’s going to do stupid shit – he might even aim to kill, if the situation was tense enough – and I don’t want to see you hurt!”

Neville frowned, looking away at the wall.

“And if we _don’t_ do anything, he’ll probably kill someone, or worse – get in the way of what Harry and Dumbledore are up to, destroy the rebellion – what have you!” Neville finally shot back, looking at me angrily.

“Can you at _least_ get someone else to help you with this?” I sighed, “He’s dangerous, Neville, you have to see that now!”

“I… I do,” Neville admitted, looking sheepish, “I’ll ask Harry and see what he thinks.”

“That’s all I ask,” I sighed, “I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have said that… I just was upset that you were hurt.”

“I forgive you,” Neville murmured softly, “I’m sorry I walked away – I just – I think I’m doing the right thing, and I’m not used to you _not_ supporting me in something.”

“Again, we’re going to have to accept that we just fundamentally disagree about this,” I frowned, “I love you, and it has nothing to do with _you_ that I’m not on your side in this – it has everything to do with Malfoy…”

“I know,” Neville nodded, and I pulled him in for a long hug, holding him tightly around the middle. He kissed the top of my head and held me back lovingly, me silently praying that I wouldn’t lose him in his crazy crusade.

The DA happily convened that evening, everyone chatting and talking excitedly about the Rebellion and just life in general, especially since we hadn’t had a DA-only meeting in ages. The flock were with me, having been left to their own devices in the room McGonagall made for them all day; everyone was eagerly going up and introducing themselves to them, so they’d be comfortable with them.

“What are you going to make next?” Dean asked eagerly, scratching behind Ave’s crest.

“Probably _Therizinosaurus_ ,” I paused, “McGonagall wants me to make an herbivore, and well, it’s large and weird and relatively bird like.”

“Neat,” Dean grinned. Never mind I was lying my ass off.

“Oh, Maggie!” Nadia shouted, running over to me, “Okay, I had a brilliant idea the other day –“

“Oh geez,” I groaned, laughing.

“I was writing and I realized – what if we wrote like, songs? For the rebellion?” Nadia beamed, “All the good ones do!”

“Wait, what were you writing?” I frowned, raising an eyebrow.

“When I’m not leading a revolution I write poetry,” she stuck her tongue out at me. I laughed loudly.

“Fair enough, sorry – but yeah, that’s a good idea,” I nodded, “Think you could write them?”

“Would I be suggesting the idea if I couldn’t?” Nadia laughed.

“Also fair – what kind of poetry do you normally write?” I asked, sitting up on the table in the room and crossing my legs.

“Whatever I feel like,” Nadia shrugged, “Not usually songs, though – but I think I could come up with something –“

“No I’m genuinely curious what you write,” I snorted, “I’m not _all_ rebellion.”

“No, you’re rebellion and dinosaurs,” Nadia joked.

“Oh come off it –“

“Well fine, usually I write free form – rhyme schemes aren’t my thing, but I can do them. Free form doesn’t work well for songs anyway, so I’m going to have to,” Nadia shrugged.

“Do you ever perform these poems?” Ginny asked, walking up behind me and sitting next to me on the table, but it wasn’t big enough for two people to sit side by side, so she was sitting at a right angle to me, her legs dangling over the table.

“Once or twice – to be honest when I do it’s at home,” Nadia flushed madly.

“Which is…?” Ginny grinned.

“Manchester,” Nadia sighed, “I dress up as – well, not myself, I wear very Western clothes, and I don’t wear my hijab so people don’t recognize me –“

“My god, you just destroyed my worldview,” Ginny joked, looking mock horrified.

“The universe is crashing around us – my god, this is it,” I groaned, grinning with Ginny.

“The apocalypse,” Ginny agreed, nodding madly.

“I can – I feel it. I feel it in my soul, in my every organ, in my cells, in my chest, in my bones –“ I continued, Nadia rolling her eyes in front of us.

“It’s definitely a lot, it’s –“

“Okay, that’s enough,” Nadia snorted, “I just don’t want my parents to know I’m going out to poetry slams. I wear makeup and leather and I don’t wear my glasses, I am literally unrecognizable.”

“Are your parents that strict?” I asked, frowning.

“No, actually, not really… it’s more that… they worry that I’ll lose touch with myself, with my culture, with my faith, for being at Hogwarts,” Nadia sighed, “It’s usually what happens. The pressure to blend in and all…”

“I can see that,” Ginny frowned sympathetically.

“And I don’t think they’d mind me going to a poetry slam – but I think they’d mind that literally none of the poems I come up with are…. Things about _my_ culture, or are similar to Islamic poems,” Nadia frowned, “They’re all pretty… Western. English, even. None are even written in Arabic! So I’d rather just keep that part of my life… private.”

“Understandable,” I agreed, sighing.

“Plus, there’s something fairly… well it’s not exactly a disadvantage for me to not appear Muslim when I’m up on stage,” Nadia frowned heavily, “I can avoid that whole quagmire of people automatically labeling me as other….”

“As much as you can when you look visibly Arabic,” Ginny offered.

“You underestimate the amount of makeup I put on,” Nadia snorted.

“What do your parents think of the rebellion?” I asked, grinning and tucking my knee under my chin.

“Oh they’re extremely proud of me,” Nadia laughed, “The think it’s brilliant. They want to meet you guys, by the way.”

“You’re kidding,” I snorted.

“Why’d they want to meet us?” Ginny raised an eyebrow, flushing madly.

“They just do – I talk about you all a lot, and I think they’re glad I have friends who accept me – who agree the problems Muslims face in wixen Britain are severe – who want to fix things – I think they admire the whole rebellion and want to meet the other members of it,” Nadia shrugged.

“Well I’d be happy to, I mean, it’s not like I have anywhere to go,” I sighed heavily.

“How are you doing with that, by the way?” Ginny asked softly.

“As good as I can – I mean just listening to you, Nadia, talking about your culture… my dad never told me anything about where I came from,” I frowned, “Okay, that’s an overstatement – he told me a little. But I know nothing, really, about my Cherokee roots… or my Inuit ones… I know I’m not fully white, but other than that, I know so little about myself – I feel almost – homeless? I feel transplanted. I always feel like that, whether I’m running from Umbridge in the woods or sleeping soundly here. I’m – I’m a Native American – is that the term people use? I’m a Native American living in Scotland, with a Scottish accent, who has no idea what her culture is, what her customs are… I have all the prejudice by other people based on my skin, my nose, my hair, my facial features… none of the benefits of a people… and now my dad’s dead…”

“Aren’t your grandparents still alive?” Ginny murmured. Nadia looked horrifically sad.

“Yeah, but they’re in Chicago. It’s hard to reach them,” I murmured, “And Dumbledore has them doing stuff for the Order… I don’t… Contacting them is… very difficult.”

“Sorry, I couldn’t help but overhear…”

We all turned to see Kat standing there awkwardly.

“I’m… I’m Cherokee,” she offered quietly, “As well as some other tribes – Sioux, mainly…”

“Do you know anything about your heritage?” I asked, swallowing.

“No,” she lamented. I groaned.

“I’m sorry, Maggie – my dad is Cherokee, my mum is Sioux, Powhatan, and English – and they’ve lived here for ages – my dad moved here when he was a baby, my mum was born here – they were running away from persecution in America…” Kat murmured.

“My dad… he talked about that with me,” I acknowledged, “He kind of wanted to leave America because of how he was treated…”

“What did he tell you?” Kat asked curiously, sitting down on the ground near the table.

“He talked about the infantilization of all Native Americans over there,” I shrugged, “How they’re seen as… mystic nature people… unable to deal with modern society… cut off from everything… can’t do normal magic… that sort of thing…”

“Oh yeah, that’s some of what my parents’ parents experienced,” Kat agreed, “But your dad was from the north, right?”

“Yeah,” I nodded.

“My… my dad’s family was from the south,” Kat sighed, “South Carolina, to be exact.”

“Okay…”

“It’s even worse down there,” Kat clarified, “White wixen literally won’t let Native wixen into their governments and jobs and things. America only has three wixen schools, so they can’t bar them from there… but I think there are only two native wixen who are employed in anything wixen related, and well, being a wixen is kind of – there’s a high rate of it, higher than white wixen – there should be more –“

“So… so they’re living in poverty?” I asked quietly, feeling horrified.

“Yup,” Kat nodded, “Dad’s parents came here looking for something better.”

“Your mum’s family, too?” I murmured, sick to my stomach.

“Yeah, they were from Virginia,” Kat clarified, “Bad there too.”

I swallowed, breathing slowly to try and stop myself from getting sick.

“I just… if it’s bad everywhere… I don’t see what we can change with a little British rebellion,” I finally managed to gasp out.

“The thing with America is that the North is not _nearly_ as bad, at least in _this particular issue_ , as the South,” Kat began, frowning, “Er… I think that making real change happen here in Britain will at least set a good example…. And maybe we can go and see what the situation is like… when we’ve fixed things here… maybe…”

“That’s fair,” I offered, sighing, “Sorry, I just… I have other things I want to do with my life, and everywhere I turn it seems like the world is throwing some new thing I have to fix in my face.”

“Yeah,” Kat murmured, “But this is something you care about.”

“It is,” I agreed, “I cannot stop myself from being tired, though.”

“No,” Kat agreed, “This is all exhausting, to be sure.”

“Racism: an issue that never goes away. Ever. Period. It’s terrible everywhere,” Nadia rolled her eyes.

“Did someone mention racism?” Hermione walked over, grinning from ear to ear.

“Oh for the love of –“ Ginny laughed, snorting at Hermione.

“What? If there’s a discussion of racism I am not a part of – “

“Actually Hermione, I’m glad you came over,” Nadia practically giggled, “A thought occurred to me during our discussion.”

“A thought, you say?” Hermione raised an eyebrow.

“You’re Jewish, yes?”

“Are you asking about my religion or ethnicity? I mean the answer is yes for both –“

“And also Palestinian?”

“Yep,” Hermione nodded, “Mum’s Mizrahi Jewish, dad’s Arabic and Muslim. They chose to raise me as Jewish – reform Jew, to be specific. My Mum’s family actually lived in Palestine _long_ before Zionism was even a thing, so, she’s one of the people on the Palestine side who get really pissed off when people equate Jewish with Zionist.”

“Oh geez,” Nadia grimaced in sympathy.

“It got so bad down there that they left,” Hermione shrugged, “They knew I’d have a tough time… They wanted me to have a better life. And then I entered this hellhole.”

We all laughed appreciatively at that.

“Right, well I was going to ask – you hardly ever talk about your faith – how do you deal with the extreme Christianization of Wixen Britain?” Nadia asked curiously.

“Er – mostly I ignore it, to be honest,” Hermione admitted, “I practice in private, and don’t draw attention to it. I have other things to focus on… not going to lie, but being best mates with Harry and Maggie for your whole time _in_ the wixen world kind of makes it an easy choice… Had my bat mitzvah in private, since all my relatives are in Palestine… I hate to say it, but I’ve chosen other battles…”

“Kind of hard for me to avoid it,” Nadia groaned, pointing to her hijab.

“I know,” Hermione frowned, “And I’m sorry – I really am. I’ll fully admit I have some privilege here, in a way – my religion is not nearly as demonized as yours, at least, not lately. Hitler managed to make people feel guilty about being anti-Semitic for a while. It’ll probably wear off in a decade or two.”

“God I hope not,” Kat grimaced.

“It’s not even ubiquitous – there’s still plenty of anti-Semitism everywhere. Holocaust deniers are _my_ absolute _favorit_ e _,_ ” Hermione scowled.

“Picking your battles?” I sighed.

“Picking my battles,” Hermione agreed mournfully, “I don’t have time to worry about that, yet. I have a bigger mission… or at least, it feels like a bigger mission.”

“It’s probably one you can tackle better than the global hatred of Jewish people,” Ginny offered.

“I’m certainly only focusing on a very specific expression of Islamophobia,” Nadia agreed.

“Picking your battles,” Hermione laughed.

“It’s a major survival tactic,” Nadia laughed.

“We should probably call the meeting to order, eh?” Harry asked, walking up behind us.

“Oh – yes – sorry!” I frowned, “I was talking –“

“I’m sure,” Harry snorted, “But _you’re_ the one who called this –“

“Actually I did,” Hermione responded, rolling her eyes, “One minute.”

I searched around and found Neville in the crowd, talking to Sam in a hushed voice. I walked up to him and hugged him automatically, still feeling awful after our fight that afternoon.

“Hey,” he laughed, kissing me on the forehead, “How are you doing?”

“Good,” I murmured, “I’m… I’m still really sorry about today.”

“Oh it’s alright Mags,” Neville reassured lovingly, “I’m not mad.”

“Thanks,” I whispered, kissing him on the cheek as Hermione went up to the front of the room.

“So today, the Ministry barred us from using the Floo for rebellion related activities,” Hermione began. People immediately began shouting in outrage and horror, a loud chorus going up in confusion and chaos.

“Yes, yes, it’s a problem – Maggie had an idea though –“ Hermione continued.

“I thought – the Knight Bus and the Hogwarts Express exist – why can’t we have something like that?” I shrugged, flushing as everyone turned to look at me.

“Won’t we run out of room, though?” Terry asked, frowning.

“Well I think we’re going to have to accept that not everyone can go on every trip,” Hermione sighed, “Certainly not all the members of the wider school rebellion – and villagers have to get their own transit –“

“We could make it a DA only thing,” Dean offered, “The main school rebellion members probably want to focus on school, anyway, and they’re not heavily involved in gathering momentum…”

“No,” Hermione agreed, “But even then, we probably can’t bring _all_ of us on every trip.”

“So we predetermine who gets to go,” Sam shrugged, crossing his arms in front of his chest, “This is probably good for many reasons – I mean, those small wixen corners of cities are getting _crowded_. We shouldn’t be bringing too many people anyway.”

“Hear hear!” Ernie shouted.

“Alright, well – anyone have an _idea_ of what we’d use?” Hermione frowned.

“Suddenly, being muggleborn is useful!” Justin cheered. We all looked at him in shock, as he wasn’t one to talk much at all.

“Sorry – er – my dad’s a lorry driver,” Justin clarified, “Lorries and other large vehicles.”

“You’re _kidding_ ,” Harry gasped.

“No – I think we might have an old bus somewhere – I’ll talk to – er – who would I talk to about this?” Justin grimaced.

“Talk to Sirius,” Harry grinned, “He’s an expert on… muggle vehicles.”

“Okay you’re going to have to clarify that,” Nadia snorted loudly.

“He may or may not have enchanted a motorbike to fly,” Harry chortled. Everyone roared with laughter with him, myself included.

“Alright, I’ll talk to Professor Black,” Justin nodded.

“Well then – crisis averted, I suppose – unless you can’t get it by this weekend,” Hermione frowned.

“I think I can do it – might have to miss some school, but, eh, priorities,” Justin shrugged.

“Great! Well, you can all hang out if you want – I need to do homework,” Hermione grimaced. Everyone laughed again and many people _did_ stay – talking or doing homework. The room was crowded and loud, but I felt more at home there than I _ever_ had in the Gryffindor common room.

The next day, I couldn’t get away from the flock. They were bored the day before and I felt bad locking them up all day, so they now followed me around _everywhere_ – Blue took the lead, but all five of them followed me like ducks in a row.

“Couldn’t you all at _least_ act normal?” I groaned, turning to look at them, “Like, crowd around me or sommat!”

They all chirped at me curiously and continued to walk in a single straight line. People stared at me, mostly in amusement, as we all walked together. After all, me being followed by a dinosaur wasn’t new. This was just an amusing continuation in my weirdness.

“This is the funniest thing I’ve ever seen,” Neville chortled as we walked together to Defense.

“I’m not your mum!” I shouted in half amusement, half bemusement. The pointy birds just chirped at me again. Penny nipped at Mong’s tail, and Mong hissed at her.

“Oi!” I shouted, and Penny crouched in shame.

“Are you sure about that?” Neville chortled. I stuck my tongue out at him, and he kissed me softly on the side of the head.

“You’re a good bird mum, no worries,” Neville beamed. I giggled and shrugged, rolling my eyes.

We got to Defense, and Sirius wasn’t there – Lupin was.

“Professor Lupin!” Dean cheered, “What are you doing here?”

“Sirius is out fixing up a bus for a certain group of rebellious teenagers,” Lupin rolled his eyes, “I offered to fill in.”

“True love,” Harry joked, smirking. Lupin rolled his eyes again.

“Alright, that’s enough of that –“

It was amazing how happy I could be when at any moment everything could literally come crashing down around our heads.

“Maggie?” Neville asked quietly as I got ready for bed that evening, sitting on the edge of his and frowning somewhat.

“Yeah?” I responded, turning and cocking my head to the side.

“I… I’m going to start a new research project,” Neville whispered, his face somewhat paler than usual, which was really saying something.

“Okay?” I asked, frowning, “What?”

“I… I’m going to try and figure out the wixen-determining gene network,” Neville swallowed, looking up at me.

“You… what?” I gasped.

“I’m going to try and figure out the series of genes that makes someone a wixen or not,” Neville repeated, standing up and walking over to me.

“No I know what a gene network is – I – are you sure?” I whispered, “You’re going to make a _lot_ of enemies if you find it – wixen like thinking they’re practically a different species –“

“I know,” Neville’s eyes were filled with fear as he looked down at me, “But… but it needs to be done… if anything can drive a point home…”

“You’re right,” I agreed, looking up at him with determination, “You’re right, and I’ll help you any way I can.”

“Thank you Mags,” Neville immediately pulled me in for a long hug, “The first thing you can do is give me some DNA.”

I laughed loudly, “Can do, and I’ll help you pick up some samples when we go to Liverpool and Dublin.”

“Excellent,” Neville beamed.

“Also… I’ll look into wixen evolution. Maybe I can figure out how we came to be here using magic,” I offered, “Or even anthropology. Not my usual subject matter, but I’ll dip a toe in, see what I find.”

“You’re brilliant,” Neville breathed.

“So are you,” I smiled at him lovingly, “And you can do this. I know you can.”

“Thanks Mags… I finally… today I figured out what was causing my plants to get better – the gene was literally doubling – multiple copies in the genome – and well – it occurred to me that maybe a network like that – and I have to follow up on this. I told Sprout I’d be working on a non-plant related gene project for a while, and she said she’d support me – I don’t think she knows what I’m doing, but I think she thinks that I’ll be able to apply it to plants in the future, which, I suppose I could, but – at any rate – she has no idea –“ Neville flushed, “I’m so nervous…”

“Want to know a secret?” I whispered. Neville nodded, his eyes growing wider.

“I’m not making a _Therizinosaurus_ ,” I swallowed, “Even though McGonagall thinks I am.”

“What… are you making?” Neville asked in confusion.

“I think I’m going to make _T. rex_ ,” I whispered.

“Are you… insane?” Neville gasped.

“No,” I insisted, “No, no I’m not – Neville – Neville dragons and halflings aren’t going to be around all the time – they’re helping with the war all over the country – “

“Yeah,” Neville frowned.

“We need something to protect us from giants at home,” I murmured. Neville watched me for a long time.

“Would… they have the same loyalty as the raptors do?” he whispered, gesturing towards the Flock, fast asleep in their new nest.

“In theory, since I’d be using a raven again,” I admitted.

“Then… then I think you can do it, too,” Neville nodded, “I’m just nervous.”

“I’m nervous for you, too,” I whispered.

“We’ll help each other through it,” Neville insisted firmly, “And stand a much better chance of success as a result.”

“Agreed,” I murmured, kissing him for a long time, holding him tightly by the shoulders. He held me close to him and refused to let go for an equally long time, our lips just simply pressed together.

“I love you,” he mumbled into them after a while.

“I love you,” I answered, pulling back and looking at him earnestly.

“Come on,” Neville whispered, pulling me to the bed, “Let’s sleep.”

I nodded, and crawled in next to him, nuzzling up against his chest and listening to his heartbeat.

I felt more in danger with us doing this, than I did on the rebellion trail.

“Justin did it!”

I was sitting in the Spellweaving room, ready for Thursday’s lesson, reading a book on what little we knew about magic in the Indus River Valley civilization. I looked up to see Hermione running towards Sam and me – Sam was doodling more uterus people, and practically jumped in shock at the sound of Hermione’s voice.

“He did it! The tour bus is here – Maggie you have to see it –“

“And I don’t?” Sam raised an eyebrow, quickly tucking his sketchbook into his bag.

“Er – yes – sorry –“ Hermione flushed.

Sam rolled his eyes and said nothing more.

“We’ll go after class,” I smirked, flicking her in the arm. Ernie soon filed in, as did Malfoy, and Flitwick.

“Well, class, let’s practice manipulating those elements – you should all be close to mastering –“

Amazingly, I _was_. I stood in a corner of the room, easily sending jets and tongues of fire every which way, and controlling them to boot. I elegantly weaved fire around me in a serpentine motion, and shot blasts of it at a target Flitwick had set up.

Sam, Hermione, and Ernie were all mastering their elements, too. Hermione and Ernie could mold earth like the most pliable clay, and Sam weaved the water through the air as elegantly as Neville did on his second day of practice. Something about being busy with a rebellion made it impossible for us to focus on our elementalism – and as such, it became easier.

It really was all about instinct.

As such, Malfoy – who seemed to be constantly on edge and overthinking _everything_ – had barely progressed since September. His fire was chaotic and all over the place, and Flitwick was _constantly_ putting out his messes.

Malfoy, furious as he did so for a fifteenth time that lesson, wildly blew fire in every direction.

“Oi!” Ernie shouted.

“Calm the fuck down!” Sam screamed.

I quickly waved my hands, frowning in deep concentration, and pulled all the fire spread about the room into one spot, condensing it and condensing it until it was just a tongue of flame. I then waved my hand and it disappeared. Malfoy glared at me like he was going to kill me.

“Who’s the lunatic now, Malfoy?” I snorted, just as class ended. I quickly packed up my books and practically skipped out of the room, Hermione and the others following me quickly.

“That was fantastic,” Ernie stated matter-of-factly, grinning ear to ear.

“I am so happy I was able to do that,” I gasped, in shock over the amount of energy that had taken to do.

“Well you’re about to get _even happier_ – come on!” Hermione urged, dragging the three of us with her out to one of the courtyards.

In it was a large, old, and brightly decorated bus. All over the sides were painted things like lightening bolts and _Velociraptors_ , another symbol that had emerged after I talked about Blue attacking Umbridge. Dean was standing next to the bus, looking proud of himself and holding a paintbrush.

“What do you all think?” Dean grinned.

“He was in the process of painting when we started class – it’s brilliant!” Hermione cheered.

“Sirius and I fixed it up,” Justin greeted, stepping out from the side of the bus, looking disheveled and sweaty form hard work, “It can run just fine, even though it’s as old as time itself – even a little faster without being noticed, but we didn’t do much to magically enhance it.”

“How many people can go on it?” Sam asked, frowning.

“Forty people, so we can get a good number on each trip,” Justin beamed.

“What will we do about Dublin?” Ernie asked, but he was grinning from ear to ear.

“There’s a ferry from Liverpool to Dublin,” Dean explained, “I… er… visited Seamus.”

“Of course you did,” I grinned.

“At any rate, we were going to park the bus overnight in Liverpool, and all cross over on the ferry – we won’t be able to return to Hogwarts during the weekend, but apparently Dumbledore’s okay with this,” Dean snorted.

“I don’t really think he can be… _not_ okay with this,” I laughed.

“Unity is the sort of thing we need to continue garner support,” Hermione nodded, “Oh this is just brilliant!”

“Hopefully Nadia will have written those protest songs by Saturday,” I chortled.

They all looked at me in confusion.

“We’ll need _something_ to do on the drive!” I laughed. Hermione rolled her eyes, but everyone was grinning in excitement.

The Ministry couldn’t stop us now. At least, their way of trying to stop us hadn’t worked in the slightest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the shorter chapter, guys - I kind of have to get to bed earlier tonight - trust me, there was more I wanted to include in this chapter. Next one will be a DOOZY in terms of content though. Keep the comments coming! Thanks!


	98. Chapter Ninety-Seven: October 18 - 21, 1996, Hogwarts, Liverpool and Dublin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Heart of gold but it lost its pride  
> Beautiful veins and bloodshot eyes  
> I've seen your face in another light  
> Why'd you have to go and let it die? 
> 
> Why'd you have to go and let it die?  
> Why'd you have to go and let it die?  
> In too deep and out of time.  
> Why'd you have to go and let it die?"  
> ~ Foo Fighters, "Let it Die"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for mentions of rape, self harm, and suicide at the end

Chapter 97: October 18 – 21, 1996, Hogwarts, Liverpool and Dublin

“Did you know that actually trying to characterize genes is impossible?” Neville groaned that Friday, after we had come back from Alliance. The romance meeting was better than the sexuality meeting for only one reason: I didn’t have to lead it, which meant I actually enjoyed participating.

“No it’s not, Nev,” I giggled, leaning over to kiss him on the cheek as we sat together on the bed. Neville was pouring over complex charms and transfigurations, writing them down in various orders trying to determine which would allow him to actually start to pinpoint the genetic causes of wixen… hood.

“Well it _feels_ like it,” Neville grumbled angrily.

“You already did it with your plant!” I laughed louder, resting my had against his arm lovingly.

“This is more important,” Neville sighed, “I’m more nervous.”

“That’s fair,” I admitted, “But I believe in you.”

“Thank you love,” he smiled, kissing me softly on the lips, “How goes tyrannosaurs?”

“Well,” I frowned, “It’s a bit harder because they’re somewhat more removed from birds than anything I or my gran has done.”

“Oh dear,” Neville frowned.

“It’s not _that_ much more… in theory, it should just take some extra switching spells. But it’s nervewracking. I can’t really _practice_ because McGonagall would know… as it is I’m lucky she’s letting me mostly do this on my own,” I explained.

“I wonder why?” Neville asked thoughtfully.

“Probably because it’ll look more impressive to the Transfiguration guys,” I shrugged, “She did an entire research project almost entirely on her own! Amazing!”

Neville laughed appreciatively, “Well, it’s not like you’re not doing that.”

“I’m just creating giant predators to watch over Hogwarts,” I snorted.

“They’ll do a good job – and you’re training the birds you’re going to use to recognize you, right?” Neville asked.

“Well,” I sighed, “Yes, but there’s a problem. It’s not going to be hard to transform the brain for this one, because _T. rex_ is much bigger than ravens, but it’s brain is not that big. I mean, it has a big brain for a non-avian dinosaur, but beyond that… it’ll be very easy to turn the raven brain into something closer to a tyrannosaur brain than it was for the raptors. It’ll be somewhat smarter than _T. rex_ would have been, and it’ll have some raven behaviors… but I’m concerned I’m not going to get the same sort of… obedience.”

“Well,” Neville frowned, “They still shouldn’t… eat you… right?”

“In theory, as long as I keep them _very_ well fed, no,” I nodded, “I’m more concerned about training them to defend the castle, honestly.”

“Train the raven beforehand and hope it sticks?” he offered.

“Well, my concern that they’ll lose some of the learned behaviors applies to that too. I’m probably just going to train them when they’re made,” I sighed.

“That’ll be entertaining to watch,” Neville grinned.

“Not really,” I laughed, “Since I have no idea how I’ll even do it.”

“Magic?” Neville offered.

“I’m not going to put them under the Imperius curse – that’s gross –“

“No no, I don’t mean that – I mean – I mean – try and use spells and things during your conditioning, to enhance the effect, I guess.”

“Perhaps,” I frowned, before sighing, “I’m not a behavioral scientist. I just want to know how these things changed over time.”

“I know Mags,” Neville soothed, kissing me softly, “And I don’t give a crap about humans. But, sadly, we have to do what we have to do. If we live through this, we can go back to our actual scientific interests.”

“Hooray!” I cheered, kissing him more passionately, massaging his lips with mine and holding him as tightly as I could in his arms. He eagerly wrapped his around me and held me as close to him as possible, staring into my eyes and beaming at me.

“You’re absolutely brilliant, you know that, right?” he murmured into my lips, reaching to tuck my hair gently behind my ear.

“So are you,” I laughed, kissing him again, “I’m glad you’re just as weird as I am.”

“Oh definitely,” Neville giggled, “Two wixen obsessed with science.”

“It’s much more normal outside of Europe, I don’t know what’s wrong with this place,” I snorted.

“Literally thousands of years of elitism?” Neville offered.

“True!” I rolled my eyes, “And now it’s biting all of us in the ass.”

“Huzzah?” Neville raised an eyebrow, and I laughed loudly again.

“How do you think this tour bus will go?” Neville asked after a moment, frowning.

“I hope well,” I sighed, “I’m nervous too, though.”

“I mean, the one good thing about this whole elitism problem is that it’s doubtful the Death Eaters will think to look for us on the muggle roads,” Neville offered.

“True,” I agreed, “But I’m worried they might start attacking the meetings. Enough have happened, and enough support has been garnered…”

“There are so many people at them though,” Neville frowned, “I mean, to attack anyone at those things is basically asking to get your butt kicked –“

“Fair enough,” I sighed, “I just can’t help but worry – the more we do this, the more we’re putting our friends in danger…”

“Our friends are putting _themselves_ in danger, Mags,” Neville whispered, “They are making a conscious choice to do something they firmly believe in. You aren’t forcing anyone to do anything.”

I nodded, swallowing heavily. Neville pulled me tighter into his arms and kissed me on the top of the head, gently rubbing circles into my arms with his thumbs. He kept planting small kisses all over my head and nuzzled up against me, and I knew he was trying to comfort me out of my guilt. Regardless of whether or not it was actually working, it felt wonderful, so I happily enjoyed it, closing my eyes and resting further.

I always felt safe with him.

The next day was the maiden voyage of the tour bus, deemed by a startling majority of DA members to be the Boltmobile.

“It’s the worst name I’ve ever heard,” Harry grumbled as he climbed up into it and took a seat.

“So who’s driving?” I asked, snorting at Harry’s general discomfort and disagreement.

“Driving a bus is like driving a motorbike, right?” Sirius offered, already sitting in the driver’s seat. I looked at him in bemusement as other DA members climbed in behind me.

“I… er… I have no idea,” I admitted, “Probably?”

“Driving a motorbike is nothing like driving a lorry, but, I don’t know about buses,” Justin admitted, “To be honest, my dad hasn’t told me much about this stuff. I _was_ supposed to take over the family business, but then I went to Hogwarts, and now my brother’s being trained up.”

“Could you call your brother?” Hermione asked worriedly.

“It’d take him a day just to get here and we have to get going. I’m sure between myself and Professor Black, we’ll be okay,” Justin offered.

“Famous last words,” Neville commented as he walked into the back of the bus. I snorted loudly and Hermione flicked me in annoyance.

“Well we better get going – everyone on board?” Sirius asked. Hermione looked back and counted heads – there was me, herself, Harry, and Neville, Ginny, Luna, Ron, Sam, Elena, Claire, Valerie, Ernie, Hannah, Susan, Justin, Cho, Kat, Pete, Nadia, Colin, Dean, Seamus, Katie, Michael, Anthony, Parvati, Padma, Lavendar, Terry, Chris, Sally-Anne, Asgar, Vanessa, Siobhan, Dennis, Rick, Astoria, Kim, Joshua, and Maria. Nikko and Ada both, sadly, had to sit out – we only had forty spots on the bus.

“Yup, all here!” Hermione responded, and Sirius jolted the bus forward so violently that I, not sitting in a seat, actually stumbled backward a little.

“Er – everyone sit down!” Sirius ordered awkwardly.

I quickly scurried to my seat next to Neville and tucked myself under his arm, grumpy after having nearly fallen down on the bus.

“Alright, so what’s the plan for Liverpool?” Terry asked, standing up slightly and leaning on the seat in front of him. Anthony, who was sitting in that seat, swatted his arms away from his shoulders, but Terry paid him no heed.

“Dean will speak first – what are you planning on speaking about?” Hermione asked, looking over notes on a sheet of parchment.

“Ministry corruption, especially with regards to healthcare,” Dean nodded.

“And then – Susan, have you decided?” Hermione continued.

“Yes – yes I’ll speak – I’m actually planning on building off of what Dean says,” Susan whispered.

“Alright, that’s good – very good – and that should be enough, since both of them are planning on making longer speeches and we’ll be there late in the day,” Hermione finished.

“What about Dublin?” Terry furthered, and now he and Anthony were basically wrestling with each other, Terry still trying to use him as an armrest and Anthony trying to maintain bodily autonomy.

“I’ll be speaking,” Hermione sighed, “Not sure about what yet. But since we’ll need to take a boat out there and back, we only have time for one speech –“

“Do we even have to go out to Dublin?” Seamus grunted in annoyance.

“We need to hit most of the major cities and Dublin is one of them,” Hermione raised her eyebrow, “Is there a problem with that?”

Seamus shook his head silently, staring stoically out the window. Dean next to him looked horrifically troubled at this.

“Let’s – I wrote some songs!” Nadia interjected into the awkwardness, leaping up from her seat. She actually had been sitting with Ginny, which had been amusing, if unsurprising.

“Let’s hear ‘em then!” I cheered happily. Everyone else made similar sounds of excited agreement, and Nadia went up to the front of the bus as Hermione sat next to Harry, pouring over legal textbooks and scribbling on her parchment.

“Alright this first one is extremely simple – just meant to be a chant – ahem,” Nadia began, looking down at a small piece of paper,

“ _It’s time to be the change we need_  
Though none of us wanted to lead  
But if we don’t who will instead?  
Our message will finally spread  
Down with Voldy and Death Eaters  
The Ministry’s band of cheaters  
Those who succeed from this horror  
Now we shall cause quite the big stir  
Now’s the time to end this madness!  
Let’s clean up the wixen world mess!”

Nadia sang, and plenty of people clapped happily and eagerly.

“I’ll make the words show up – tune’s real simple, I’m not really a singer – ready?” Nadia asked. I nodded along with everyone else and joined in the singing, even though I was terrible at it – no one was particularly skilled at it though, and so we all laughed and enjoyed singing terribly together.

Nadia had written more songs than just that, of course –

“ _Hey ho! We say no!_  
We say no to the Ministry!  
Hey ho! We say no!  
We say no to their bigotry!”

This turned into more of a chant, which we all happily shouted as the bus sped through Scotland down to England, shouting it at the top of our lungs in excitement.

“Alright kids, I get that that’s a catchy one, but _please_ do something else,” Sirius groaned after a while of this.

“I’m all sung out,” Nadia groaned, “I’ve written up some other stuff but it’s not as good –“

“I have a song my dad taught me,” Kat offered shyly, flushing madly.

“Oh?” Ernie asked curiously, turning around in his seat to look at her.

“I mean, it’s not a song about this – it’s just a song,” Kat flushed, now looking horrifically awkward as everyone stared at her.

“Er… okay…” she took in a deep breath as Pete patted her arm gently.

“ _Though they try with fire and the sword_  
_They cannot kill the light inside me_  
They rip and tear me away from home  
They cannot kill what they cannot see  
They cannot kill the light inside me

 _They ripped us violently from our land_  
They forced us covered in blood to flee  
We didn’t have a way to escape  
They did not hear our desperate plea  
They forced us covered in blood to flee

 _They tore our children from our culture_  
One standard for what humans should be  
They made us homeless, lost and alone  
Destroying their stolen land with glee  
One standard for what humans should be

 _But still we live on and persevere_  
They cannot kill the light inside me  
We are a people together still  
They cannot kill what they cannot see  
They cannot kill the light inside me,” Kat sang softly, swallowing heavily at the end. The tune was hauntingly beautiful, and I found I couldn’t say anything when she was done.

“Can… can we sing that? When it’s about Native Americans?” Hermione asked quietly – everyone was quiet, and heavily impacted.

“I think the principles involved still apply to us,” Kat reassured quietly, “Since it’s not like any of us have escaped being programmed by the Ministry – it’s not like non-humans haven’t been brutally attacked –“

“Sounds good,” Neville nodded.

We all sang that quietly, but it was the kind of song that, though depressing, filled you with extreme power and determination. By the time we reached Liverpool, we were a serious, focused lot; walking from where we parked the bus to the building that was the center for wixen in Liverpool.

We crowded inside and found a modest amount of people there – Liverpool wasn’t that magical of a city, but there were still wixen there, all waiting eagerly to hear us speak. We took to a small stage made in the front of the room, Dean walking up to the front and looking out at everyone as Hermione amplified his voice for him with magic.

“Hello,” he greeted awkwardly – it was clear he wasn’t really a speaker, unlike our people who talked last week. Still, if anyone had been extremely motivated throughout this rebellion, it had been him.

“I come from a humble family. A working family. My mum’s a single mum, my siblings are three younger sisters from a different father than me – he left us, after the third one got cancer. My youngest sister got cancer,” Dean drew up a shaking breath, gripping the sides of his pants tightly in his hands, “A disease in which your body literally forgets how to work. Her cells decided to keep dividing, making new cells where they should not be. It killed her, slowly at first, and then all at once – one month she was struggling, but able to lead a normal life – the next, she was about to die, and it was time to say goodbye. She was only six years old.”

Seamus was standing next to me in the small crowd of us at the front of the room; he had tears in his eyes, big ones that threatened to spill over. I closed my eyes in unbearable sadness.

“I loved her. She was the happiest person you’d ever have met – she never got old enough to see what the world was really like. She loved cars and learning all the different types of models, and her favorite color was purple, so she’d buy toy cars and paint them. Since I was good at art, I taught her some before she died – she had a real knack for it. And she kept making this one joke, because she was a little kid, that made no sense but made me smile anyway – it was How many licks does it take for a dog to become friends with another dog? The punchline was – it was no licks – because dogs are always already friends,” Dean laughed weakly and forced himself – visibly, I could see the pain in his eyes – to keep going.

“She’d have been ten this year,” Dean whispered, “Her name was Lydia.”

Everyone was watching in confusion, unsure of what this had to do with Voldemort or the Ministry.

“Wizards don’t get cancer,” Dean continued, swallowing, “Because when we’re born, we have spells placed on us that make us immune from such problems – our genes don’t betray us, and our cells don’t decided to just divide forever. The kinds of infectious diseases muggles get don’t have a chance to infect our bodies. We are safe, and this magic – this magic is safe. And this magic is not something automatically true of wizards, it’s something that is put on us when we’re born and the Ministry protects us with this from our birth.”

People shifted uncomfortably in their seats now.

“Lydia wasn’t a wizard. She was a muggle. She did not get this magic. And for that, she got to die,” Dean swallowed heavily, “And this is how most muggles will die – some form of illness that wixen could prevent, if we so choose. And yet we don’t. We don’t choose to save them.”

“You might protest,” Dean continued solemnly, “And say it is not the duty of us to protect them. And it would be hard – it’s a difficult question, to be sure. But maybe no one should get such special treatment? How is it fair, for us to prioritize our lives over theirs? We do not have any sort of inherent greatness of worth compared to muggles! We are all human! We are all the same species, and there is no difference between us and them – only a trait that some have, and some don’t. It’s like having blonde hair, or dark skin. Except, being a wizard allows you to do things that puts you ahead of others – and kills innocent people. We need to have a dialogue. We need to talk about this – about these things the Ministry does without our consent. I don’t know the answer. I don’t know what we should do, and I’m not trying to argue either way. I’m saying the Ministry – they _assume_ we, as a people, would be okay with this – and they don’t let us speak. They don’t let us say for ourselves. They don’t let us discuss it. I’m a wizard, and when my sister was sick I wasn’t in school – but what about those wizards and witches who _do_ have muggle relatives who are dying? They cannot save them – we are not allowed to, even though we could. We are stopped from saving our fellow humans, and it’s time we said no – it’s time we stopped letting the Ministry make our decisions for us. And If you don’t think that the endless deaths of our brothers and sisters in the muggle room is enough for us to demand the Ministry allow for us to make our own decisions and choices on these things – maybe what Susan has to say will change your mind,” Dean swallowed, finishing awkwardly and backing away from the front of the room. Susan took his place, looking terrified, shaking from head to foot.

“Is this a good idea?” I whispered to Hermione. She frowned, but nodded quietly.

“Most people are born with parts between their legs,” Susan murmured, her hands quaking quite alarmingly, “Whether it’s a penis or a vagina, doctors then assign a gender based on those parts. However, this gender is not always right. The Ministry knows this. The Ministry thinks that it would be easier for all people who’s gender doesn’t match up with the one assigned to them to just have the parts and the hormones that they should have, so they go ahead and give them these things before they can even ask. Sometimes, people have genders that don’t match up with either. We’ve talked about this before,” Susan took a deep breath, “The Ministry doesn’t know how to handle those people; they demonize them and dehumanize them. But they really do that to trans men and women, too. They force surgeries and hormones on them without their consent. You’d think – of course! All these people _must_ want these treatments! But that’s not always the case.”

Confused murmuring went up around the room. I swallowed and watched Susan, who was still shaking from head to foot, waiting for the moment when she would finally snap or need help.

“Sometimes people react badly to hormones. Sometimes people may not necessarily want to express whatever the Ministry has dubbed their ‘correct’ gender identity in the way the Ministry thinks it should be expressed. Oftentimes, being labeled as trans from the moment they’re born alienates these children from their families, who see them as other. Sometimes, the surgeries don’t go well, and these children are sterilized – they can’t have children with their new reproductive parts – but they could have if their old ones had been left alone, but they weren’t given this choice. These kids grow up feeling defunct, like they aren’t true men and women, because the Ministry has decided that a certain set of reproductive organs is what makes you a true man or woman, and without these things, you are faulty. In reality, your gender is determined _solely_ by your identity. These kids were already men and women when they were born, they were just men with vaginas, and women with penises,” Susan continued, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I know all this because my Aunt has been in the Ministry my whole life, and has heard of families demanding the Ministry fix their children when they’ve been harmed by these forced corrections. I know all this because she’s had to tell heartbroken adults that they cannot conceive because the uterus they received as a baby was not properly formed and no one bothered to check – because who wants trans people to have babies anyway? I know this because I am trans myself, and I’ve had to try so many different types of hormones because I’ve had allergic reactions to all of them – when I think, if I had had the choice, I probably wouldn’t have physically changed myself at all,” Susan took a deep breath and swallowed visibly, tears forming in her eyes.

“We are real. The Ministry cannot even argue with that. Trans people are real, and their identities valid, and their personhood legitimate. The last bit the Ministry seems to have forgotten means that trans people, like the rest of us, have the right of choice. The right of autonomy over their bodies and what happens to those bodies. And no one even knows about all of this because the Ministry just sweeps it all under the rug. The Ministry sees being trans as a problem that needs to be solved and then blatantly ignored, as though it does not happen – rather than just another way in which people are diverse and beautiful and varied, as varied as they are in skin color and eye color and hair color and body shape and everything under the sun. The Ministry has to answer for this – the Ministry has to support trans people without controlling them – and they need to change, for this, and for so many reasons. Thank you,” Susan whispered, returning back to the crowd of kids as Hermione silently went up with the sheet for people to sign. She didn’t even say anything, she just looked very tired and stricken with what had just happened.

The crowd seemed to be more half and half in support and against at this one – many people had left when Dean had finished speaking, given that his problem presented was much less clear cut in terms of right and wrong. Still, we got many more signatures, and I was feeling good about everything as we all returned to the tour bus to get some rest before the next day.

The next day, I woke up to the tapping of an owl on a window. It had been hard to sleep on a bus, but none of us had wanted to take the risk of sleeping in a hostel or hotel, and the bus was easily magically concealed from muggles. Hermione was sleeping in the seat in front of Neville and me, and thus the owl went right to her window.

“Bloody hell,” Harry grunted groggily from the floor near us, “Hermione let the damn bird in.”

“Yeah yeah,” Hermione muttered, rubbing her neck and opening up the window. It was the _Daily Prophet_ owl, and once she had collected and paid for her paper, it immediately took off.

“Anything new?” I asked tiredly, nestling closer to Neville, who was still trying to doze.

Hermione was clearly skimming the paper, shaking her head silently, when suddenly she gasped and dropped it on the floor like it was on fire.

“What?” I asked worriedly, quickly scurrying to pick up the paper from the floor and pulling it up to my face.

“It’s – it’s – it’s _awful!_ ” Hermione cried, and there were actual tears flowing from her eyes.

I quickly skipped to the page she had been on and moved my eyes rapidly over the paper, looking for a headline that would cause such a reaction –

**Ministry Defunds Several Programs**

Due to a budget crisis in light of the war with You-Know-Who and his Death Eaters, the Ministry has been forced to cut some programs from its budget effective immediately. This measure was passed nearly unanimously in the Wizengamot and the programs that have been defunded include the Center for Impoverished Muggleborn Education (CIME), the House-Elf Protection and Agency Committee (HEPAC), the Wizarding Ancestry and Lineage Research Society (WALRS), the Gender Assistance Fund (GAF), the Agency for Freed Azkaban Inmate Rehabilitation (AFAIR), and the Society for New Spell Creation (SNSC). According to the Wizengamot, these programs will be open for renewal once “these trying times have been put behind us.” Many individuals have responded to this sudden change with concern; many jobs within the Ministry itself have been laid-off due to this change, many impoverished families will not be given aid in retrieving gender assistance medications and surgeries for their children, and poor muggleborns who require monetary aid to attend Hogwarts will have to turn to other sources for such aid. The reasoning for these programs, as opposed to others, being cut was simply given as a high cost and low necessity during times of war; some individuals, such as Albus Dumbledore, have already offered replacement programs in light of these changes. “No child shall ever be barred from attending Hogwarts due to their income; any and all impoverished muggleborns who would have been aided by CIME will now be aided from my own Hogwarts salary, until a new source of aid can be established.” More implications of these changes will surely be seen as they are carried out.

I swallowed heavily and looked up at Hermione in shock.

“I – I – why are they doing this? This – what?” I whispered, “The Ministry is _loaded_ , they keep getting money from asshats like Malfoy –“

“It’s because of us,” Hermione managed to choke out.

“Wait – what?”

“You see _this_?” Hermione pointed to one of the names in the list of cut programs – the Gender Assistance Fund.

“Ye… yeah?” but my groggy brain was quickly beginning to put it together.

“That’s the agency in charge of doing all the trans stuff,” Hermione managed to gasp through rapidly forming tears, “They cut their funding after Susan’s speech. She called for choice and they just took all of it away altogether. I’m willing to bet all these other cut programs are there just so it’s not obvious that they’re just punishing us –“

“Jesus _bloody Christ!_ ” I screamed, and anyone who wasn’t already awake and freaking out over Hermione and my conversation woke up with a start.

“What’s happening?”

“Merlin, Maggie –“

“It’s too early for this –“

“Wha’ –“

“The Ministry cut funding for trans programs because of Susan’s speech! No one’s getting any of it anymore!” I roared, the paper crumpling up in my hand in my fury, “They’re masking it as budget cuts for the war, but –“

“Fuck!” Ron screamed at the top of his lungs, and suddenly everyone else was too. Susan was sobbing uncontrollably and Ernie had quickly ran to hug her, holding her tightly and looking at me in pure terror.

“SCREW THOSE ASSHOLES!”

“BURN THE MINISTRY TO THE GROUND –“

“HOW DARE THEY TAKE AWAY THINGS THAT PEOPLE NEED –“

“I’m fucked, I’m fucked, I’m fucked, I’m fucked –“

“Without my hormones – oh no – oh _no_ –“

“So many people are going to be horrifically affected by this – “

“Who’s going to help us? Who’s going to help everyone?”

“Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no –“

“I’m going to kill them – if this makes my brother kill himself – I’m going to –“

“Fucking, hell, shit!”

Everyone was shouting and screaming and crying and it was so overwhelming that my head was literally spinning.

“Everyone!” Hermione screamed. People started quieting down, looking at her in terror but clearly for guidance.

“Everyone, calm down, we don’t know – Dumbledore’s helping one of the other programs that got cut – maybe something will come through for this – no one panic – panicking isn’t going to help –“

“What do we do now then?” Ernie asked, looking at her in fear.

“I don’t – I don’t know –“ Hermione cried.

“We go on to Dublin,” Sirius, groggy and as pale as a sheet, interjected, “We have an engagement there, and how would it look if your rebellion broke down at the first real sign of retaliation?”

I swallowed, and everyone else started calming at the truth of Sirius’ words.

“You kids have accomplished more for the Wizarding world than people have in centuries, in just a few weeks,” Sirius continued, “You need to keep fighting. Come on, we’re going to the boat.”

We had parked near the dock, and so it was a short walk to the boat, which left shortly after we got there. We spent the eight hour trip in silence and solemnity, none of us truly having the energy to really talk about or comment on what happened, especially since we were all in the presence of muggles who could overhear us speaking. We slowly got off at Dublin and walked, silently, towards the wixen-only street.

Hermione looked sick and horrified from her head to her toes, waiting for the rally to start. I just stood next to a wall, unable to really look at anyone, just overwhelmed with guilt and fear and confusion. For the first time in a long time, I was at a loss for what to do.

“Do you think this will go well?” Harry asked me quietly as people began milling about in the street, a lot of them looking angry – no – furious –

“I have no idea,” I whispered, “I’m not sure if they’re angry _at_ us or angry _with_ us.”

“Well Hermione has to talk now, she’s standing there,” Neville mumbled in worry.

“I’ll keep a look out for anyone who –“ Harry swallowed heavily.

“Looks like they might attack?” I offered, my eyes swooping the crowd automatically – it was absolutely packed with people; there was no way any one individual could be clearly picked out from the others.

“I can try anyway,” Harry sighed heavily as Hermione waved her wand to amplify her voice and came up to the podium.

“Hello everyone – we are the Rebellion, and we are here to talk to you about the resistance against both the Death Eaters and Lord Voldemort, as well as our own government, the Ministry of Magic, who’s prejudices and power structures lead to the ability for Death Eaters to exist in the first place,” Hermione began, looking nervous and worried.

“What do you have to say about the riots in London?” someone shouted, and Hermione looked over in the direction of the voice in shock.

“Wh – what riots?” she asked, swallowing.

“There have been people picketing at the Ministry,” that same person responded, “Demanding they reverse their budget changes – and many people say they’re with you.”

“How can you know that?” Hermione frowned.

“They have lightening bolts painted on their foreheads.”

People began murmuring everywhere – both in the DA and in the crowd. Hermione looked at the direction of the person in amazement.

“They say that they took away the GAF because of your speech in Liverpool yesterday –“

“We’re worried that they did that because of us, too,” Hermione whispered.

“Then how can you justify continuing to speak? Just let the Ministry run as it always has –“

“The Ministry has to change!” Hermione insisted.

“The Ministry can never change! It responds to criticism with violence and oppression!”

“Then we keep fighting! And we _keep_ fighting, until they listen, because they have to! I support the picketers in London! I support them because they’re forcing the Ministry to listen to them, rather than to shove them down with more hurt and hate, rather than shove them down into a silence they have a right to break!” Hermione’s voice picked up in anger and intensity.

“The war with You-Know-Who should take precedence! We don’t have time to fight over these petty things!” a new voice interjected.

“We don’t have time to wait to fix these institutions that disenfranchise and dehumanize members of our community!” Hermione screamed.

“What good is trying to fix our community if You-Know-Who is going to destroy it?” a third person demanded.

“Because Voldemort himself _feeds_ off of these systems and these systems are why he rose to power in the first place!” Hermione screamed, “There is no Voldemort without the Ministry!”

“DUCK!” Harry screamed. I looked in shock as Hermione dropped to the floor as someone simultaneously shouted, “ _Avada kedavra!_ ” A green curse shot over her head and up into a nearby building; it broke some stones which fell down where many DA members had been standing before – they quickly ran out of the way as the light had shot towards them all. I had dove away from dust and falling building parts and quickly rolled onto my side to look out over the crowd. People were screaming and shouting in terror; I could see someone in a black hood running away as a group of people screamed, “ _AFTER HIM!_ ”

“Go!” I shouted at Harry, who had immediately taken off running after the supposed shooter of the curse; I quickly turned around, looking for anyone possibly hiding; the crowd was screaming and running in all directions and it was so chaotic I could barely see anything.

I whirled on my feet to see Hermione rapidly standing to her feet; I ran towards her to try and help her, fear over my best mate entering and capturing my heart tightly. As I ran, I saw Sam running too in the corner of my eye; I briefly was confused as to what, when suddenly he had pulled Hermione into his arms and kissed her passionately on the lips.

The site was _so shocking_ that I literally stopped in my tracks, my mouth dropping open. The action caused multiple people to bump into me in their quest to escape; I was knocked to the ground by one of these individuals and I groaned in pain as my head hit the stone street. I rapidly got to my feet, massaging my head and feeling blood there; I quickly looked to see Hermione and Sam starting at each other awkwardly, standing far apart from one another.

 _Oh geez_ , I groaned internally, quickly jogging up to the front to Hermione.

“Maggie, why the hell are you bleeding?” Hermione groaned, looking visibly relieved to see me.

“Never mind that – we have to go – we all have to go _now_ – round up the DA,” I insisted, pretending I hadn’t seen what just happened.

“Alright – Sam, please help find everyone and get them to go to the dock,” Hermione ordered, not meeting his eyes and immediately sprinting down the street. He looked at her awkwardly as she left before turning and running himself, and I threw my hands up in the air in bemusement as I followed after Hermione.

“What – was that?” I finally gasped out as we left the Wizarding street and ran towards the dock.

“Er – Sam decided to kiss me,” Hermione said matter-of-factly.

“Oh… kay?” I offered.

“Well, see, he was a bit overemotional after I nearly died,” she continued in a _remarkably_ clinical voice, even for her, “And needless to say, I didn’t really – I did not _want_ this sort of greeting. Anyways, I responded by pushing him off of me, because I don’t feel for Sam like that – I honestly have _only felt romantic attraction twice in my entire life_ – and well, Sam was awkward, and I was awkward, and that’s why you should always ask permission before you kiss someone, no matter how overwhelmed with emotion you are.”

“Wise words,” I frowned, trying to contain the very insensitive hysterical laughter filling my chest. We reached the dock and hurriedly helped students onto the next bus, Hermione counting and checking off names from a clipboard as her hand shook terribly. The checks she put on the clipboard looked less and less like checks and more and more like random squiggles.

“You alright? Want me to take over?” I asked worriedly.

“No – I’m not alright – I nearly died – but – no, I – I don’t want you to take over,” Hermione managed to insist.

“Alright,” I whispered.

“We have to use this,” Hermione managed to say after a while as more and more people managed to reach the boat and we were only missing Harry, Sam, and Valerie – Neville had gone onto the boat ahead of us to calm the others. Sirius was standing with us, looking out for the others and running his hands through his long black hair with terror.

“What do you –“

“We have to use this, rather than let it cripple us,” Hermione repeated.

“Well yeah,” I agreed, my voice shaking, “Someone attacked you – _us_ – we can’t let that stand –“

“No,” she agreed, “No, no we can’t.”

Sam and Valerie came running up then, looking haggard and exhausted.

“We’ve looked everywhere, but we can’t find Harry,” Valerie panted.

“Bloody hell,” I groaned, “How do we –“

“ _Expecto patronum!_ ” Sirius shouted, and a silver dog shot from the end of his wand.

“Go find Harry and bring him back here!” Sirius roared. The dog immediately sprinted away, and I watched it go nervously.

“And what if he can’t come back?” Sam asked cynically, his eyes dark and specifically not meeting Hermione’s.

“Then the patronus should be able to help us find him – but it’s a moot point,” Sirius pointed ahead at the sight of Harry sprinting towards us, looking absolutely torn up and battle worn, his shirt ripped and blood trickling from a cut on his cheek.

“Alright, come on, let’s go!” Harry shouted, running up onto the boat. Valerie rolled her eyes and we all quickly followed him, running towards the corner of the ship that the others were in. People shouted in protest as we moved, but none of us really cared much.

“What happened?” Ron shouted, standing up and looking terrified as we all entered the room.

“Who attacked Mione?” Neville demanded, running towards us immediately.

“It was a Death Eater, actually – Goyle – couldn’t catch ‘im,” Harry panted, leaning against a wall.

“Was he _acting_ as a Death Eater?” Hermione asked, frowning.

“He was wearing his Mask – why?” Harry asked in surprise.

“Isn’t Goyle the friend of Malfoy’s who’s a transman?” Hermione whispered, “Of all the Death Eaters to attack us –“

“I bet he asked to after the agency was repealed,” Harry sighed heavily, “Bet he was furious and wanted a chance to get back at us –“

“Of course, and he probably buys into the idea that all Goyle needed was to be ‘fixed’,” Neville scowled.

“Well, he got away,” Harry shrugged, “He apparated away pretty quickly; I was trying to see if he had stayed in the city and couldn’t find any sign of him.”

“We should be alert until we get back to the bus – and then use concealment charms on it that also conceal from wixen,” Hermione whispered.

“Sounds like a plan,” Sirius agreed.

I quickly went to sit against the wall in exhaustion; Neville soon followed and wrapped his arms tightly around me, holding me silently as we sailed through to England, too tired for any real words to come from our mouths. As I sat under his arm and he napped on top of my head, I slowly looked around at all the DA members – many were hurt, and they were tending to their wound silently, everyone looking disheartened. I couldn’t see Ernie anywhere, and Sam was nursing to hurt feelings in the corner, sitting silently and sullenly. As my eyes swept past everyone in the room, I saw Nadia and Ginny sitting together again – but now they were kissing each other, softly and clearly trying to not draw attention to themselves from the rest of the group.

 _Well_ , I thought happily, _that’s one nice thing to come from this._

We reached the tour bus, and drove back in, initially, silence, to Hogwarts. It was so silent that I was starting to fall asleep next to Neville, when a small voice rang, singing, above everyone.

“ _Are you, are you_  
Coming to the tree  
They strung up a man  
They say who murdered three  
Strange things did happen here  
No stranger would it be  
If we met at midnight  
In the hanging tree,” Kat sang quietly, staring out in the distance as Pete next to her massaged a broken arm.

“ _Are you, are you_  
Coming out the tree?  
Where dead man called out  
For his love to flee.  
Strange things did happen here  
No stranger would it be  
If we met at midnight  
In the hanging tree,” Nadia responded, clearly knowing the song in question, Ginny’s arm wrapped around her and her face solemn, her eyes filled with tears.

“ _Are you, are you_  
Coming to the tree?  
Where I told you to run  
So we’d both be free  
Strange things did happen here  
No stranger would it be  
If we met at midnight  
In the hanging tree,” Kat returned, smiling over at Nadia, who smiled weakly back. We all watched them in awe and silence – the tune was so haunting that it literally chilled my bones.

“ _Are you, are you_  
Coming to the tree?  
Wear a necklace of rope  
Side by side with me  
Strange things did happen here  
No stranger would it be  
If we met at midnight  
In the hanging tree,” Nadia swallowed, her voice clear and calm in the silence and darkness.

“Bloody hell, kids,” Sirius groaned, “Could you pick a cheerier song, please?”

“No,” Pete said simply, and some people managed to chuckle, and everyone sang the song together as we finished our drive, a chorus of out-of-tune, terrible singing voices mixing in with decent ones, rising out above the night and hanging heavily in the air.

I couldn’t sleep that night; I couldn’t sleep most nights lately.

Groggily, therefore, Neville and I reached breakfast that next morning, and I poured porridge for myself with my eyes barely open.

“Nothing new in the _Prophet_ , I hope,” Neville mumbled groggily.

“Nothing at all, except a brief piece about Death Eaters attacking Dublin. No further explanation,” Hermione sighed.

“The _Prophet_ isn’t the only thing that can bring bad news,” Ginny muttered softly. She looked like she had been crying heavily, and wiped some tears from her eyes as she sat there at the table.

“Oh bloody hell, now what?” I groaned insensitively.

“Maggie –“ Hermione sighed.

“Sorry, sorry, I’m just tired,” I admitted.

“Well… er… Nadia and I are a thing, now,” Ginny whispered.

“Good,” Hermione smiled, “You two are cute together.”

“Thanks… I just… it’s not all good,” Ginny sniffled, “She’s in with Shae right now, talking to her…”

“What’s wrong?” I asked, frowning.

“I didn’t think this would be a problem. She didn’t either… they’re usually so accepting of things… and they love her so much, clearly…” Ginny sniffled louder, before bursting into loud tears, heavy and thick falling down her face.

“What… what happened?” Neville whispered.

“Her parents are very strict in their adherence to Islam,” Ginny managed to gasp out, “And they think being gay is a sin.”

“Oh _no_ ,” Hermione groaned.

“A p-punishable crime, too,” Ginny sniffled, “And her parents – her parents - her dad’s not tolerant at all – her mum’s a little more forgiving, but – and they’re confused because she’s biromantic, so she’s had a crush on a man before, which they knew of – and – and they – her dad’s in charge of finances and the family and everything and –“

“Oh _no_ ,” I moaned. Her parents had seemed so good – but everyone had different sides – and they _were_ very religious –

“Her dad’s not talking to her anymore, and her mum doesn’t think she should either,” Ginny confirmed, “They’ve completely cut her off from them. She doesn’t know what to do – she’s – I have to go, I’m sorry.” Ginny packed up her books and quickly ran out of the Great Hall, leaving us to watch her go in horror.

“Poor Nadia,” Neville whispered.

“So few devout Muslims accept homosexuality of any kind,” Hermione murmured, “It shouldn’t be a surprise –“

“But it is,” I groaned, running my hands through my hair, “I can’t with this – this is _bullshit!_ ”

“We’ll be there for her, that’s the most we can do,” Hermione murmured soothingly.

“Yeah,” I sighed, getting up, “I can’t – I’m sorry, I’m going to go and read for a bit. I need – I need some time to myself. I’ll see you both later.” They nodded, and I kissed Neville softly before walking towards the Room of Requirement, heaving my bag over my shoulder and staring at the floor as I walked.

I had no idea how much more of this I could really, legitimately take. Not even the people we _should_ be able to count on to support us, could.

I entered the Room of Requirement to hear loud, hysterical sobbing from a corner of it.

“I – hello?” I asked worriedly, only partially stepping into the room.

“Go away!” the person shouted through their crying, so it came out all blubbery – but I could make it out – it was Ernie.

“Ernie?” I whispered in amazement, “Ernie, it’s me –“

“Please go away,” Ernie begged.

“Why are you crying?” I insisted.

“Please, Maggie, I – please,” Ernie gasped through two heavy sobs, and I quickly walked through the room towards him.

“Look, you don’t need to tell me, but I don’t think you should be alone right now,” I whispered quietly.

“Fine,” Ernie sniffled, and quickly returned to crying as I sat net to him, staring out into space and flinching whenever his sobs were particularly terrible or wail-like. He cried for a long time, his body shaking and heaving with sobs, tears flowing like rivers from his eyes and snot following from his nose in a similar fashion. His face was red and blotchy, a darker shade than his bright orange hair, and it was all very startling and concerning as I couldn’t help but watch.

“Ernie,” I murmured after a while, as his sniffles started to calm down and quiet, and he sat there, weeping and staring at his knees.

“Ernie, please talk to me,” I begged, tucking my knee up against my body and resting my head on it.

“Why?” Ernie demanded quietly.

“Because you’re my friend, and I care about you, and I don’t like seeing you like this,” I answered honestly.

Ernie sniffled heavily and continued to stare at his hands for a long time in silence, apart from sniffles and the occasional sob. I just watched him, sighting and running my hand through my hair.

“I don’t know how I’m going to be able to handle having my hormones taken away again,” he finally whispered after a while, his voice shaking with every syllable.

“When will that happen?” I asked quietly.

“I don’t know. My parents are looking into how to get them themselves, but if they can’t – if they can’t afford it, or can’t find out – I only have enough for another month,” Ernie whispered.

I nodded, swallowing, “Last time – was with Umbridge, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Ernie agreed quietly, “Yeah, it was.”

I looked at him for a long time in silence, him just sniffling and wiping off his eyes every time he started to cry again.

“What did Umbridge do to you, Ernie?” I asked, swallowing again with worry over asking the question.

“I told you – she put me under the cruciatus curse, then sectumsempra, made me wear the girl uniform, and I lost it at the end of the year and got her kicked out,” Ernie shrugged.

“You’re not saying everything,” I murmured.

Ernie paused for a long time, taking a deep breath, “No, no I’m not. But I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Ernie, you just had a mental breakdown in the Room of Requirement. Take it from someone who has had her fair share of mental breakdowns, you need to have someone to talk to about it,” I insisted.

“I have people who were here,” Ernie whispered, but he looked less sure.

“Ernie…”

He looked at me again, tears shining in his eyes, “I don’t know how to tell people things.”

“I told you I had my own mental breakdown at the same time, about,” I offered, “Trust me, I’m not going to judge you for anything. I promise.”

“Alright,” Ernie murmured, staring at his legs again, wiping off his eyes once more with his now probably grimy hands, “Alright.”

There was another long pause as we sat there together, staring out at the opposite wall, him still sniffling somewhat from crying before.

“Umbridge tortured me on a frequent and regular basis when she discovered I was trans,” Ernie whispered, “Nearly every day, about. It was more than making me wear girl clothes. She’d force me to put on make up and gave me wigs to wear, and she kept threatening to chop off my penis, but the Ministry wouldn’t allow it, which is why she didn’t. She – she screamed at me so much – and used sectumsempra on me so much – to try and get me to admit I was a girl.”

“Oh my god,” I whispered.

“She got one of her Inquisitorial Squad members to – to – to –“ Ernie suddenly burst into tears again, and I didn’t know what to do, if he wanted me to touch him or not, so I just sat back and watched in horror.

“She ordered one of the seventh year Slytherins in the squad to rape me,” Ernie whispered, looking out ahead with glassy eyes, emphasizing certain words with finger air quotes, “Because I ‘needed to get used to penetrative sex’ again, even if it was in the ‘incorrect hole.’”

“Jesus _fucking Christ!_ ” I screamed, my hands flying up over my mouth. I started crying horrifically as Ernie continued to talk.

“When she started torturing me, I started cutting myself every day,” Ernie muttered hoarsely, ignoring my tears, “I cut myself all over my thighs and my arms. I even put a nick in my penis, though it hurt so much I couldn’t – I stopped. But I couldn’t live under her rule. I was having so much trouble. I had lost you guys – some of my closest friends – for what I thought was forever. I got to watch Nadia, one of my other best friends, nearly have her hair torn from her skull – saw Kat get lit on fire and watched as Pete started screaming whenever he saw the stuff because he had to watch – saw Susan break down as she lost her hormones, the ones that actually didn’t try to kill her – everything was terrible, and I couldn’t deal with it in another way –“

I swallowed heavily and watched him in horror, finally managing to stop crying.

“The day she – the day she ordered someone to rape me – the day he raped me – I couldn’t anymore. I couldn’t – not – I tried to kill myself,” Ernie whispered, staring at his hands, “I went into a broom closet and I slit my wrists open.”

I sobbed horrifically again, unable to stop myself.

“There was – there was a lot of blood,” Ernie mumbled, “And I passed out. But I didn’t do a good enough job… I woke up. I woke up and I… I picked myself up and went back to the others, because I was the de facto ruler of the DA without you guys, and I knew they’d be looking for me. I didn’t have another shot to try again while Umbridge was ruling, everyone was too busy and everyone was asking me questions and looking to me for leadership. And then she left, and I went home, and my parents – I told them what happened, and they helped me get better, at least a little, over the summer… but… only a few people know I was raped… and… no one knows I…”

“Oh Ernie,” I whispered.

“Please don’t pity me,” Ernie muttered.

“I don’t,” I insisted, “Ernie… Ernie, I tried to kill myself last spring, too.”

Ernie’s head snapped up and he looked at me in shock.

“Harry… Harry’s BPD was bad and… I made a mistake. I didn’t tell him he was the Chosen One, and when he found out I had _known_ and hadn’t _told_ him – but _had_ told Neville and Hermione – he flipped. Said shit he didn’t mean, but I took it to heart anyway,” I shrugged, “Said I didn’t actually care about anyone else and didn’t know how to love people.”

“Oh… fuck,” Ernie finally settled on fuck as his word of choice to respond to that.

“I entered a depressive spiral – didn’t talk to anyone about anything – and then, when I failed in hunting a deer for me, Neville, Sam, and Hermione – because we had split off from Harry, Ginny, Luna, and Ron when Harry and I fought, and Fred and George had joined the Order, and Elena and Claire had been taken to safety – anyway – when I couldn’t shoot the deer – I just – I felt so _useless_ – I – I tried to kill myself. But Blue, who had been with me, lead them all to me – and Hermione saved me – and they all slowly managed to help me get better – but – but at least I was _found_ by someone,” I swallowed heavily, “You have no idea how much I admire your ability to go out and – even if you thought it was temporary at the time – _live_ – because I couldn’t have done it if it weren’t for the three of them forcing me too.”

“I’m glad they found you,” Ernie whispered.

“I probably would have died,” I admitted.

Ernie stared off silently for a while, “You never expect it to seem like such a logical option.”

“No,” I admitted, “You don’t. And that’s the terrifying part.”

“That you could get to be in that place again,” Ernie agreed, looking at me in fear, “Maggie, please – please make sure I –“

“I will,” I promised, “I will. I don’t want you to go. You’re – you’re an amazing friend, Ernie. I don’t know how any of us would function without you.”

“Well, same for you,” Ernie smiled, “Without you I think this rebellion would crumble.”

“Without you it would be a disorganized mess,” I snorted, “Hermione doesn’t have the calming nature you do.”

“That is amazingly fair,” Ernie laughed, “I’m sorry for a while I blamed you all for leaving for her being bad…”

“It’s okay,” I admitted, “She probably did take out her ire especially on you since you were… the thirteenth? I suppose?”

“Yeah,” Ernie sighed, “It’s still not your fault though.”

“No,” I agreed, “Still. Blaming someone other than yourself is a good first step.”

“It was,” Ernie agreed, “I just wish that I didn’t have to have any steps at all.”

“We’ll get through it,” I murmured, “I’m still recovering too. I still break down sometimes.”

“That kind of pain just doesn’t go away,” Ernie agreed quietly. We sat there together in silence for a long while, before Ernie put his head on my shoulder in sadness.

“So… what’s going on with Sam and Hermione?” Ernie asked after a while. I snorted heavily with laughter, unable to stop myself.

“Er, last I saw, Sam tried to kiss Hermione and she basically responded ‘hell no,’” I chortled.

“Oh thank Merlin,” Ernie breathed.

“Do you want to ride that train?” I laughed.

“Maybe, maybe not,” Ernie stuck his tongue out at me and I laughed louder.

“Thank you for talking to me,” he whispered after a while, “You were right… I needed to talk to someone…”

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone,” I reassured quietly.

“Thanks,” Ernie mumbled, and we sat there together like that for a while.

Once upon a time, in a conversation with this very person involved, I thought I couldn’t make friends.

I was glad I was wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SO SORRY IT TOOK ME SO LONG TO UPDATE my boyfriend who lives very far away from me got to visit which was wonderful but meant I couldn't write (he reads this story; it was hilarious to see him realize that him visiting meant no new chapter). I'll reply to your comments soon and PLEASE COMMENT!!!! PLEASE! I really would like some nice ones since him leaving means I'm pretty down in the mental health department (luckily, this chapter was planned to be depressing to begin with. Hooray!) Anyway yes PLEASE COMMENT! Thank you!
> 
> Also art by http://chris-stuck.tumblr.com/ ! If you guys want Sims of other characters (I have a lot) so you know what they look like, please ask!


	99. Chapter Ninety-Eight: October 22, 1996, Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Because I'm hyped up, outta control   
> If it's a fight I'm ready to go   
> I wouldn't put my money on the other guy   
> If you know what I already know 
> 
> It's been a long time comin'   
> And the table's turned around   
> 'Cause one of us is goin'   
> One of us is goin' down 
> 
> I'm not runnin'   
> It's a little different now   
> 'Cause one of us is goin'   
> One of us is goin' down."   
> ~ Sick Puppies, "You're Going Down"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW For Gore and mentions of genocide

Chapter 98: October 22, 1996, Hogwarts

I rarely paid attention in Transfiguration class anymore. After all, I knew all the material we were learning this year in the fourth year. Still, it was nice to have a chance to secretly study tyrannosaur anatomy, though I had to hide that from McGonagall as well as everyone else.

Neville, who _did_ need to pay attention, was doing so grumpily – it had been a long weekend and he didn’t exactly want to _be_ in transfiguration class. I gently patted his arm and kissed him on the cheek, but that did little to calm him. Harry, recovering after the same weekend, was just slowly falling asleep in his seat.

“Mr. Potter! _Please_ pay attention!” McGonagall snapped in the middle of her lecture. Harry jumped in his spot, his eyes widening comically.

“Er, sorry Professor – had a long weekend –“

“Being the leader of a rebellion doesn’t excuse you from school,” McGonagall scoffed. Hermione snorted loudly.

“In the end, nothing excuses you from school. School is eternal. When the universe has collapsed in on itself and everything has turned to nothingness, school will still be there, waiting to take us all into the oblivion of the ages,” I joked. McGonagall whacked me on the back of the head as I giggled, and Neville grinned lovingly at me.

“Could you all _please_ return to the chapter on advanced switching spells –“

A rumble went up throughout the castle. I swallowed heavily and looked about the castle, my body tensing and ready to get up at a moment’s notice.

“I – er –“ McGonagall tried to keep talking, but another rumble went through and shook our classroom.

“Oh dear,” McGonagall sighed as shouting and screaming could be heard in the corridors.

“Let me investigate the situation –“ she continued but Harry had already gotten up and run out of the classroom. I immediately followed him, as did Neville and Hermione, and McGonagall groaned louder as we all sprinted through the corridors. Other DA members from our class weren’t far behind, and we made our way down the moving staircases as they rumbled and shook with the castle.

A large rumble went up through the building; Neville was knocked to the ground and Harry only just managed to grab him as the staircase slowly moved towards the one we required. The shaking actually made it briefly stop moving, and I was impatient – we were almost at the first floor.

I took a deep breath, braced myself, and started running towards the end of the staircase.

“Maggie, what –“

“No –“

“Oh bloody hell –“

“You’re absolutely mental –“

But I wasn’t listening, and I managed to leap from the staircase onto the floor below, rolling to brace my fall and immediately taking off faster through the castle, out to the first floor and down the steps. The entrance hall was chaotic; more people were fighting than ever and explosions were going up as spells were tossed back and forth. No Death Eaters were in the entrance hall, but they appeared to be right outside it; the fighting line was closer to the castle than last time by a wide margin.

“Shite,” I whispered, running towards the grounds and ducking as an avalanche of stone fell behind me. I slid out through the door and outside, where all of the dragons and riders were fighting an entire slew of giants and trolls that had apparently been recruited by the Death Eaters.

I immediately transformed and shot like a bullet, not even hesitating, towards one of the trolls. The troll lifted up his club and swung it towards me, and I dodged out of the way as quickly as I could, managing to knock the troll over with the club on my tail.

Shae was nearby and roared in appreciation at my attack, and I immediately dove at another giant, grabbing onto its back with my talons and digging into it as hard as I could. The giant roared in pain as I refused to let go; he wiggled and shook back and forth to try and throw me from him, but I managed to stay locked on, painful though it was to do so.

Thailus saw his chance at my gripping and immediately ran into the giant, being as he was a large dragon unable to maneuver quickly in the air. He pushed into the giant and threw the thing to the ground, causing a large rumble to move through the earth and knock many people from their own feet, including many Death Eaters. However, part of one of the battlements of the castle quickly crumbled, and I flew as quickly as I could towards it, looking to see if anyone was hurt.

I transformed back into a human and quickly ran down the ledge, looking through the rubble for any hurt students. I couldn’t see any, and so I turned to go and help the dragons more with fighting the army of ugly large humanoids.

A large wall of water went up from the lake, and I grinned proudly at the thought that it was coming from Neville – but I couldn’t see him anywhere. I turned around rapidly and looked through the chaos of shooting spells and creatures fighting and fire coming form the dragons in droves.

“Neville?” I shouted, transforming back and diving towards the ground, flying low along it towards the lake. Still, I couldn’t see him, or my other friends anywhere.

I transformed into a human once more and whirled around in terror, my eyes quickly sweeping over the battlefield. There were dozens of Order members and DA members fighting next to the castle, shooting endless curses and spells at the scattering of Death Eaters all along the front line. I couldn’t see my family anywhere, but I saw Ernie shooting up a wall of earth at some of the Death Eaters, and then molding that earth into small balls, which he rapidly pushed towards the Death Eaters. They were so small, so streamlined, and going so fast they had the same effect as bullets; they rammed heavily into their bodies and some actually fell over, crying out loudly with pain.

“Neville?!” I shouted again, wondering who could have put up the water wall if it weren’t for him. Sam was nowhere to be seen either, and I couldn’t help but begin to panic as more and more Death Eaters and other people Voldemort had gotten to fight for him started coming out from the Forbidden Forest.

_Who else could be making a water wall???_

I turned about and I finally saw a person in a Death Eater mask slowly moving their arms and raising water out of the lake – and turning it into a giant wall, pushing it heavily towards the castle.

“Shite!” I shouted, and before I could even think about it I immediately twirled about on my feet and gathered up a slew of fire, twisting it around myself and shooting it towards the water. The water immediately began to steam up with the force of all the fire I had gathered; I didn’t even hesitate as I wove my hands through the air to gather up all the fire into a ball, shooting it rapidly at the water user. The Death Eater shouted in surprise and ducked out of the way as the fireball crashed towards him; I quickly turned it with my hands to follow him, but he managed to shoot water heavily into the fire, which put it out.

I grunted angrily and pulled out my wand, shouting, “ _Stupefy!_ ” at the Death Eater. He crumpled to the ground and I turned around, running back towards the other dragons and the giant ugly humanoids. I transformed again and shot through the air, spinning about in a circle, my wings turning with me as I rose up as high as I could in the sky. I then tucked my wings into my body and shot rapidly down towards a giant, grabbing onto her head and pushing her with the force of my speed towards Herin. Herin immediately grabbed onto the giant’s neck and managed to pivot, twisting against the ground and pulling the giant with her. I and a few other smaller dragons then dove at the giant and began pecking and clawing at it, swarming around her and pulling apart her flesh and skin. Blood spurted everywhere, and the giant writhed cried out in pain as we ripped her into shreds. Eventually she grew still and I shot back up into the air, to see multiple Death Eaters fighting with fire and water and earth against some of the Order members and students.

I roared in surprise and dove towards the Death Eaters, spinning on my spinal axis and pulling up as I reached the ground to transform back into my human self. The Death Eaters all immediately started to attack me and I quickly swooped my arm in front of me, pulling a wall of fire in front of me to block the other elements and protect me. I then shot the fire at all of them in a wide arc, grunting with the effort. A Death Eater – masked, so I couldn’t figure out who – shot more fire back at me. I jumped over it and pounded multiple jets of the stuff towards them, falling back down on the ground and rolling across the grass towards them. They all stumbled backward, still shooting elements towards me, but I had gotten enough of a handle on fire to actually use it with Dracudo now – there was no way these Death Eaters who barely knew what elementalism was could fight me. I could see from their hesitant motions and awkward manipulations that they were just concentrating on getting the stuff to actually _move_.

I swept my arms behind me and formed fire there, dragging it forward through the air and swooping it up against them. One of them managed to block it with their own fire and I ducked, crouching against the ground. Multiple shoots of fire headed towards me and I immediately spun about on my hands, holding myself aloft with them; I twisted the fire away from me with my feet, turning my feet underneath my hands and spinning about in a circle and making all of it dissipate into the air. I quickly jumped up and stood on my feet again, running towards them and leaping into the air, spinning in a circle and shooting fire all around me. The Death Eaters cried out in shock and horror, running about in all directions as I finally collapsed to the ground in exhaustion.

“AND STAY AWAY!” I screamed after them, smelling burning hair –

Crap –

It was my hair –

I screamed in shock and noticed that multiple parts of me were on fire – I had been so focused on using Dracudo _and_ elementalism that I forgot that I could be lit on fire same as the Death Eaters –

A shower of dirt fell over me and I looked up in confusion to see that Ernie had basically thrown a blanket of earth over me, grinning slightly as he did it. I stuck my tongue out at him, but the relief of having all the fire put out was too wonderful for me to complain about the dirt in my eyes, nose, and hair.

“Where’s Neville? Hermione? Harry?” Ernie asked, the chaos continuing around us.

“I have no bloody clue,” I admitted, “Last I saw they were with you –“

“True, I think I lost them in the Entrance Hall – what the hell –“ Ernie shouted in surprise as an arrow flew over his head, narrowly avoiding it. I looked in shock to see Kat and Ginny on one of the lower battlements, shooting arrows together at the Death Eaters who were still running up to the castle.

Ginny might have been good, and I might have been better, but Kat clearly had been doing this since – if she said she had been shooting arrows when she was a week old, I would have believed her. Ginny’s arrows flew, but not nearly as far, not nearly as straight, and not nearly as accurately – and Kat could shoot many more arrows in any one timeframe than Ginny. A legitimate shower of arrows poured from that spot on the castle, and they hit the Death Eaters in the arms and torsos, some falling to the ground in pools of blood.

Now that they had noticed them, the Death Eaters began shooting spells up there, and the two immediately ran across the castle, sprinting as fast as they could.

I was so concerned and distracted by this turn of events that I wasn’t paying attention to my own surroundings.

A curse hit my arm; I screamed in surprise and fell to the ground, feeling blood on my arm – it was literally pouring from it. I rolled onto my back and grunted in pain; Ernie started shouting in horror, clearly at a loss for what to do.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck – Maggie – shite –“ Ernie groaned, and I heard ripping, and I saw Ernie tear off his perfectly good shirt sleeve, wrapping it around my arm.

“What the fuck are you doing you idiot –“ I protested.

“Stopping the bleeding – holy hell –“ Ernie retorted.

“I don’t think you know what you’re doing!” I insisted.

“Well do you?” Ernie roared.

“What the hell is going on?”

I looked up to see Sam running towards us, his hair matted down with sweat, his face covered in earth and water and soot.

“Are you two crazy! There’s a battle going on in case you didn’t realize!” Sam roared.

“We did realize!” we answered in unison.

“Then what the fuck – oh –“ Sam gasped when he saw the blood.

“Could you _please_ help her out, oh mighty healer in training?” Ernie shot sarcastically.

“Where the fuck have you two been?” Sam shot back as he quickly started waving his wand over me, though his hand was shaking like a leaf.

“Fighting over here! There was a crowd of elementalist Death Eaters –“ I grunted.

“They weren’t very good – clearly just learned it fast for this –“ Ernie snorted.

“ _I_ managed to beat them – _me_ – “ I emphasized.

“That little spin move you did on your feet was pretty good though, not going to lie,” Ernie admitted.

“Thanks,” I grinned.

“See, over on the _other_ side of the Grounds, there’s Bellatrix Lestrange herself, so I’ve been busy over _there_ – and she’s learned Elementalism and is _good at it_ ,” Sam grunted.

“Oh fuck,” I moaned.

“Yeah – I was coming over here to transport water for Neville and me – we’ve been looking _everywhere_ for you nerds –“ Sam snorted.

“We were busy!” we insisted in unison as my arm finally dried up and stopped bleeding, Sam finishing fixing up the wound.

“Hermione’s getting really good with the earth though – you better watch out, you have a real competitor on your hands,” Sam snorted, looking over at Ernie.

“Eh, I don’t think so,” Ernie grinned, and Sam looked extraordinarily confused as I sniggered behind my hand.

“What the – what are you two playing at?” Sam demanded as curses shot over our heads.

“Nothing,” I giggled, “Let’s go.” Ernie smirked at me and I rolled my eyes – how was Sam to know that Ernie was really talking about vying for Sam’s affections?

We sprinted through the Grounds, past the trolls and giants fighting the dragons, and reached where the bulk of the fighting was _clearly_ happening.

Lestrange was a rainstorm of fire.

It was raining down from around her, in giant clouds and streams of heat and white hot anger and hatred. She was cackling madly, her hair a knotted, short mat of black – nowhere near fully grown back from our encounter over a month ago. I quickly shot streams of fire at her that she blocked away, and I spun on my heels to try and gather up more fire to shoot at her, once again not paying attention to my own self.

Neville was there and he shouted at my appearance, shooting streams of water in fast, hard bursts towards Lestrange, but she was quickly evaporating it all up with her fire. Sam, who had not forgotten to bring more, ran up behind Ernie and me with a large wall of it, dividing it up between himself and Neville. Harry was spinning air all around Lestrange, trying to take it away from her vicinity, so she couldn’t create more fire – it was working, somewhat, with the fire growing progressively weaker, but she’d just run with the moving air, creating fire within it to shoot back at the others. Hermione was raining down pellets of dirt on her head, the earth filling the air and making me cough horrifically, but it was at least helping – it was pounding the fire into the ground and weakening it somewhat, but still Lestrange had enough fire to shoot at us all in droves, streams of the stuff raining out around us.

No other Death Eaters appeared to want to help Lestrange – in fact, many of them were fighting a slew of DA members with classic wand magic, curses and spells shooting in a storm of light and heat and energy and sound nearby. Nadia was heading the charge, her face covered in sweat and her hijab slipping from her head, lightly moving on her feet as though she were dancing, curse after curse shooting from her wand into the crowd of Death Eaters. Behind her were Valerie and Claire, who were also shooting dozens of curses – Claire was light on her feet, and used her speed to her advantage, moving quickly and deftly in between the older students to shoot stunners at the Death Eaters while they weren’t paying attention to her. Valerie, on the other hand, was tall and strong, and moved rapidly to block curse after curse, easily pushing them out from her and sending her own towards the slew of black capes. Elena was there too, and she was holding her own well enough, but she was mainly on the defense, putting up shield charm after shield charm and only occasionally sending new curses towards them. Terry was with them as well, and he was having trouble blocking the curses, them hitting him in the arms and legs, but luckily he managed to dodge and block anything like a stunner that would take him out completely. Finally, Pete and Collin were shooting curses from the rear, moving with sure feet and purpose to try and surprise the Death Eaters from behind the main crowd of people. The Death Eaters were weakening under their onslaught, but still managing to stay strong – and I knew everyone was watching the crazy elementalism storm going on near Lestrange.

I quickly ran forward and captured Lestrange’s fire in my hands, pushing it back towards her with a loud grunt. She looked at m in surprise and immediately started gathering up fire around her, swirling about on her feet and heels and glaring at me angrily. I did the same, but I worked faster, pulling together large amounts of fire and pushing it behind me, propelling myself forward. Lestrange looked at me in shock as I managed to reach her practically as she realized what I was doing, stumbling down the ground next to her – I didn’t have good balance from the fire. She made a move to shoot the fire at me, but I ducked out of the way, spinning on my hands like before to throw my legs out under her. I kicked her to the ground and she fell with a thunk, grunting in pain and anger as I quickly moved backward across the field.

She got to her feet and glowered at me, moving towards me with her hands surrounded by balls of fire. I swooped my arms behind me and gathered up fire, pushing it towards her with my fists in anger, basically punching the air and directing it towards her. She dodged out of the way rapidly and managed to sweep fire up with her hands and shove it rapidly towards me. I quickly ducked out of the way as Hermione forced clods of dirt towards Lestrange again, causing an avalanche of the stuff that rained down on her head and made her sputter angrily. I shot a river of fire towards her and she dodged it just in time, pulling out her wand and shooting a killing curse in no particular direction – she didn’t appear to be able to see with a clod of dirt in her eyes. It narrowly avoided Sam and Ernie roared in anger, and we all started attacking Lestrange with curses now, shooting stunner after stunner at her as she somehow managed to block them all with limited sight.

Lestrange sent out another killing curse, somehow managing to aim directly for Neville, and he quickly ducked out of the way, falling to the ground like he was taking shelter from falling rubble. I screamed in fury and immediately threw up an entire wall of fire with my feet, spinning in midair and kicking it towards her. She shouted in surprise as it enveloped her, quickly putting it out with her own elementalism but falling to the ground, weak and burned.

“STUPEFY!” Harry shouted, and she collapsed completely, passing out on the ground at last. I panted with the effort of the fire, running to Neville and pulling him up from the ground.

“Are you okay? Are you okay?” I gasped, looking at every inch of him as he pulled me close to him.

“Yeah I’m fine – I’m fine – I’m fine – “ Neville reassured in rapid succession, immediately pulling me in for a long kiss by holding my face tightly in between his hands. I rapidly wound my arms tightly around his shoulders and held onto him for dear life while kissing him, the battle still going on around us at full strength, despite Lestrange being taken out.

“ _NOW IS NOT THE TIME!_ ” Harry roared. I immediately flicked him off, extending my hand away from Neville to do so. I could hear Hermione roar with laughter as Neville furiously moved his lips against mine.

“Come on, let’s help the others,” Sam snorted. Neville broke away from me and gripped my hand tightly in his, and we ran together towards the others fighting the large group of Death Eaters, sliding through the dirt and water and mud from before. The others seemed to be holding their own fairly decently, though – Claire particularly was frighteningly quick on her feet, basically dancing through the group as she sent curse after curse at the Death Eaters and dodged twice as many.

“I’m going to go help the dragons!” I shouted, giving Neville a farewell kiss and transforming, taking off in the air towards the scene of the giants, trolls and dragons. I dove rapidly towards them, tucking my wings against my body again to shoot like a bullet towards one of the larger remaining dragons. I grabbed onto his neck and ripped it violently, but I was getting exhausted from all the fighting – I didn’t manage to kill him. Blood spurted from his neck and he screamed in pain, swatting at me as though I were a gnat on his body. I spun away and through the air, flying behind Thailus and resting as he charged at the Giant. Amityh joined him, and the two grabbed a hold of the giant’s arms, pulling him in either direction. I moved forward to join them but Emralda and Herin were already doing so, pulling him in now for directions by grabbing onto his legs. There was a gruesome ripping sound in the air, and blood was everywhere – so were guts – and I honestly transformed back into my human form to vomit heavily onto the ground as the bits of the giant were thrown everywhere.

Shae transformed and ran over to me, patting me on the back as I finished vomiting. She looked fairly green herself, swallowing visibly as though to hold back her own vomit.

Thailus roared at the top of his lungs and looked at me. I swallowed weakly and smiled at him with similar strength.

“Thanks,” I managed to gasp out hoarsely. Thailus nodded and returned to fighting, but the Death Eaters were finally beginning to pull back now, exhausted and with many of their fighters dead or taken out.

“Maggie, go, you can’t keep fighting,” Shae insisted as I leaned against her in my exhaustion.

“But –“

“You’re useless to us like this, go!”

I nodded and ran into the castle, sprinting as fast as I could, running down into the dungeons where many of the younger students were. Many of the wounded and exhausted older students were there too, and I made my way to sit next to Ginny, who had a large cut over her eye and a lot of blood all over her neck and arms.

“What happened to you, then?” I asked weakly, collapsing against the wall and floor.

“Covered in boulders when magic caused a wall collapse up on the battlements,” Ginny admitted, “You?”

“Got cut up by some Death Eater, used a shitton of fire against Bellatrix Lestrange, and then witnessed a giant literally get pulled apart in four directions by some huge dragons, and the sight made me vomit,” I admitted.

“Ew,” Ginny grimaced.

“Exactly,” I nodded, “But they seem to be leaving.”

“Oh good,” Ginny sighed, “Kat felt so guilt but she was badly hurt – she’s such a small person, the stones falling broke quite a few of her bones.”

“Oh no!” I gasped in shock.

“She’ll be alright, but she had to stop fighting,” Ginny shrugged, “The battle almost being over means she won’t feel too guilty about that.”

“True,” I agreed, sighing, “This was brutal.”

“You’re telling me,” Ginny shook her head solemnly, “I just want to _nap_.”

“Alas, we have school, and rebellion on weekends,” I groaned, running my hands over my face.

“This is my O.W.L. year. I’m officially doomed,” Ginny nodded, her lips pursed together in a matter-of-fact way.

“Well if you ever need to take a step back from things to focus on school, just say the word. _I_ certainly don’t want to be responsible for you flunking out,” I shrugged.

Ginny looked at me seriously for a while, “Maggie, what do you think the odds are that Hogwarts will still be here next year?”

I swallowed and stared at the crowd of students hiding from attacking Death Eaters.

“Small,” I admitted quietly, “I just don’t want to admit it.”

“Well, when we win the war, you can help start Hogwarts back up again,” Ginny nodded firmly, “And be the awesome new Transfiguration professor that leads the charge to new knowledge and all that crap you care about.”

“If we win,” I mumbled.

“ _When_ ,” Ginny shook her head furiously, “We have to at least assume we’ll win, or else we’re screwed.”

“You’re right,” I agreed quietly, “You’re right.”

We rested there together for a long time, just kind of napping on each other’s shoulders, when Lupin appeared at the front of the Dungeon.

“Alright everyone, it’s safe to come up, they’re gone,” he reassured.

I groggily got to my feet and pulled Ginny up with me, walking out to see who needed help. The castle was much more in shambles than last time, and people were already getting to work on cleaning.

“It’s much more destroyed this time, but we have fewer casualties,” Lupin confirmed to Ginny and me as the rest of the students ran to their Common Rooms.

“Why is that, do you think?” Ginny asked, frowning.

“Could they be specifically targeting the building to try and weaken its structure? They’re after something inside it after all,” I sighed.

“That’s probably what it is,” Lupin nodded, “Though why they wouldn’t go after students and teachers anyway just to have an in…”

“Probably wanted to conserve energy,” I sighed, “Come on, let’s get started on the cleanup.”

It took forever; everything ached by the time we were done, and I was starving, probably due to my completely empty stomach. I had to take frequent breaks and, as night descended over the castle, found myself sitting in the Great Hall with many of the severely injured, resting against the side of the wall and staring off into space.

“Claire, you were really impressive out there,” Harry remarked as he came to sit next to me, many DA members following him, “Really – I had no idea you learned so much last year –“

“Honestly a lot of that wasn’t you, no offense,” Claire flushed.

“None taken,” Harry snorted, “I was surprised I was that good of a teacher.”

“Why do you know how to fight so well?” Hermione asked curiously.

“Er… cause of my dad,” Claire shrugged.

“Was he just really overprotective?” Neville frowned, coming to sit next to me and holding me as tightly as he could, probably from similar emotions. I quickly nestled into his arms and rested my head against his chest, swallowing heavily. I had seen him almost die again, and it wasn’t a sight I particularly liked.

“Something like that,” Claire admitted.

“Oh we might as well tell them,” Valerie grumbled, coming over to sit with us, “Not like it’s really a secret.”

“I just don’t like discussing it,” Claire muttered.

“I think you can tell everyone,” Elena whispered, looking at Claire kindly. Her eyelids were somewhat heavy looking, too, and her cheeks were flushed – if I didn’t know better, I’d say she was flirting –

 _She’s only thirteen, she doesn’t know how to flirt_ , I thought stubbornly, focusing instead on how nice Neville’s thumb felt rubbing small circles into my arm.

“What you think and reality are not always in sync, Elena,” Claire snorted.

“Oh come on, we all need to stop thinking about Voldemort,” Valerie shrugged.

“How in the _hell_ do you think _this_ will help us stop thinking about Voldemort?” Claire laughed loudly.

“Focusing on other problems?” Valerie offered.

“There are so many _other_ problems we could focus on _other_ than that,” Claire pointed out.

“Oh bloody hell, just tell us,” Ginny giggled as Nadia walked over to us and sat next to her, and the two started cuddling happily.

“Fine,” Claire grunted angrily.

“Our last name is actually our mum’s,” Valerie explained, “She’s from Ireland and our dad wanted to hide our heritage from others, so he took her name and we were named for her. Never mind we both look black, not Irish.”

“I’m at least _pale_ ,” Claire pointed out.

“You have the facial features of someone with significantly more melanin,” Valerie rolled her eyes.

“Fair enough,” Claire sighed.

“At any rate, our dad’s from Rwanda,” Valerie continued, “He fled here in the 70s.”

“Fled?” Harry asked, frowning.

“Yup!” Valerie looked positively cheerful, “Just turned and ran.”

“Why?” Ginny asked curiously.

Hermione frowned, “Is he Tutsi?”

“Righto!” Valerie nodded.

“I thought the seventies were a time of relative safety,” Hermione raised an eyebrow.

“He saw the writing on the wall and fled anyway, didn’t think it would last – and look! He was right!” Claire scowled.

“Can someone explain all this?” Neville begged.

“Right, okay, so back in the day, Europe had a bunch of colonies,” Valerie began, “Some of which were in Africa… well, _lots_ of which were in Africa. After World War II, the Europeans couldn’t afford to keep their colonies anymore, so they split them up into countries. Except they really didn’t pay much attention to racial groups and such within these countries.”

“For a long time, the Germans and then the Belgians who ruled over what is now Rwanda made the racial minority, the Tutsi, into the leaders of the colony there – you know, puppet government heads and such,” Claire continued, sighing, “But there are a _lot_ more Hutu than there are Tutsi.”

“When Rwanda was made into its own country, Hutus began gaining more influence and liberation, especially with the help of Catholic clergy. However, the murder of the Hutu Dominique Mbonyumutwa caused many Hutu to blame Tutsi for it, leading to violence of the Hutu against the Tutsi. This kept escalating… and escalating… and escalating… with more and more violence on both sides, but mostly of Hutu against the Tutsi,” Valerie explained.

“Tutsi began leaving Rwanda in droves, and in the 70s there was a brief time of peace, but it didn’t last,” Claire shook her head sadly, “And in 1994 all this escalated to about one million people being killed – 70% of all Tutsis and 20% of Rwanda’s population.”

“Holy _shit_ ,” I gasped.

“Yeah,” Valerie sighed, “It was awful, and no one came in to stop it – not the Americans, not the British… no one….”

“It was only stopped by the Rwandan Patriotic Front army. Plus, the genocide featured a _huge_ use of war rape, which, you know, not a good thing,” Claire shivered madly.

“Fuck,” Ernie whispered.

“Here’s the thing – most wixen in Rwanda are actually Tutsi,” Valerie frowned, “Sure, some Hutu are too, but it’s significantly less, and not even when you take the relative frequencies of population into account. It’s just a genetic thing. Tutsis have more wixen.”

“Our dad’s Tutsi, and saw the writing on the wall, as we said, and fled,” Claire continued, “And he was so paranoid after everything he’d seen that he trained me and Valerie when we were very young on how to fight.”

“Told us to _never_ be afraid to use magic against muggles if they were coming after us,” Valerie nodded furious, “Especially after the genocide. The International Statute of Secrecy scared many Tutsi into not retaliating and saving themselves, even though they could have.”

“Never mind the International Confederation of Wizards didn’t do a damn thing to help them from the outside,” Claire scowled.

“And guess what countries were the _biggest_ proponents of ‘staying out of it’?” Valerie snorted.

“Don’t tell me,” Neville groaned.

“Britain!” Claire shouted cheerfully, “And the US, and France. But still. Britain! Hooray!”

“This is insane,” I shook my head madly, holding it in my hands.

“Fudge was minister at the time and didn’t to deal with it. Never mind so many Tutsi wixen refugees could have fled here,” Valerie snorted.

“Never mind right when it was ending was when the Quidditch World Cup was. All this celebration of international cooperation and support amongst wixen… right after they’d all let _so many_ wixen die,” Claire hissed.

“I think about 40% of Tutsi population is wixen,” Valerie whispered, “And I think… what was the last number Dad heard?”

“More than three hundred thousand wixen were killed,” Claire mumbled.

“Wait, _what_?!” we all screamed.

“Britain is actually weird in how low its wixen population is,” Valerie shrugged.

“Most sub-Saharan African countries have significantly higher populations of wixen,” Claire nodded.

“Same with India, and southern Asian countries like Vietnam,” Valerie furthered.

“How in the hell did no one help them?!” Hermione shrieked.

“Ignorance both in the muggle world and the wixen world,” Claire sighed.

“This is _bullshit!_ ” Harry roared.

“Why the fuck haven’t we burned down the Ministry yet?” I hissed.

“I don’t know, but we’re going to now,” Ernie agreed.

“Calm down,” Valerie sighed.

“There’s no point in getting riled up about it now,” Claire nodded.

“You guys _have to speak about this next weekend_ ,” Hermione hissed.

“Seriously,” Ginny nodded rapidly.

“Oh… alright,” Valerie sighed.

“This’ll be fun,” Claire scowled.

“It’s for the good of everyone. So that never happens again,” Hermione shivered heavily.

“Yeah… yeah, I see,” Claire murmured.

“Dad’ll be proud of us,” Valerie offered.

“And someone will try to kill us like Hermione,” Claire shot back.

“Sometimes things are bigger than yourself. I’m sure the Ministry would _love_ if you preserved your own skin,” Harry snorted.

“I… yeah,” Claire sighed, staring down at her shoes.

The odds of me burning the place down were growing higher by the second. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Please comment!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I really really really do need them. Also, I posted my sims of all the MAIN Hogwarts characters; you can find them here: http://dinolove453.deviantart.com/gallery/57366854/Changes-Everything-Character-Concepts ; PLEASE check it out!!!!


	100. Chapter Ninety-Nine: October 23, 1996, Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I was never the kind  
> To be taking my time  
> Any place that's worth a damn  
> And today's another day  
> That I've gone and thrown away  
> And I don't care where it lands  
> 'Cause I'm just thinking about us  
> I've been living in a dream about you  
> And now I know you were all I ever wanted on my mind  
> And if I never see  
> My own reality  
> Well, I'm okay to leave it all behind  
> I'll be gone for a time  
> Tuning out for a while  
> It's gonna look like I'm not all there  
> I've decided that today  
> Seems alright to piss away  
> Ignore my empty stare  
> 'Cause I'm just thinking about us  
> I've been living in a dream about you  
> And now I know you were all I ever wanted on my mind  
> And if I never see  
> My own reality  
> Well, I'm okay to leave it all behind"  
> ~ Finger Eleven, "Living in a Dream".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for sexual content between the bolded lines

Chapter 99: October 23, 1996, Hogwarts

Cleaning up the castle was a bitch, but, more people were at least able to help out than last time, so even though there was more damage, it took about the same amount of time. Plus, my exhaustion from all the heavy labor actually allowed me to get sleep.

I woke up curled in Neville’s embrace, my head resting on his chest and nuzzled there, his arms wrapped tightly around me. I looked up groggily to see he was fast asleep and absolutely adorable, his face more relaxed than I had seen it in ages, his breath coming out in small snores. I gently pressed my lips to his, unable to stop myself, causing him to stir awake in my arms.

“Mags?” he mumbled groggily, wiggling about a little and not opening his eyes.

“Yeah,” I giggled, kissing him softly on the cheek.

“What time is it,” he grunted, still keeping his eyes stubbornly shut. I looked over to the clock on the nightstand.

“Seven in the morning,” I whispered softly, kissing him now on the side of his nose.

“Alright,” he muttered, curling up around me and resting his head in my shoulder, “Goodnight.”

“Hey now, we should wake up,” I laughed.

“Why,” he moaned, wrapping his arms tighter around me and refusing to let go.

“Well lots of reasons,” I rolled my eyes, “The biggest of which being we could spend time together before going to breakfast.”

Neville moved his head up form my shoulder and pressed his lips to the inside of my neck, but he still mumbled groggily against me. I pulled his head up from my neck and saw his eyes were still tightly shut, so I lightly planted kisses on both of them, running my fingers through his curly hair and smiling against his face.

“Mags,” he whispered softly, wiggling against me and wrapping his arms tightly around me.

“I love you,” I murmured, now kissing the tip of his nose softly.

“I love you,” he mumbled, still not opening his eyes but pressing his lips to mine. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and held to him tightly, and he wrapped his around my waist, and we kissed each other softly in the bed, him partly on top of me as our lips moved slowly up against each other. He let out a soft sound as I ran my fingers down from the side of his face to his neck and traced light patterns in his skin, and I sighed happily as his hands moved from my waist to the bottom of my back, his palm pressing up against the skin exposed there and lightly tracing small patterns with his fingers.

“I’m so glad you didn’t die,” I whispered against his lips, squeezing him tightly with my arms. At this he finally opened his eyes, looking deeply into mine with sadness.

“I’m glad too,” he reassured, “So glad. I’m so sorry I nearly died.”

“It’s not your fault that bitch is a person who is still alive,” I rolled my eyes, “Don’t blame yourself for it.”

“It’s hard not to,” Neville sighed, kissing me softly again, “But I’ll try.”

“Good,” I nodded, kissing him back and running my hands up along his shoulders to his neck to entangle in his hair again. He groaned quietly and we resumed kissing heavily, our lips now pressing against each other fervidly and urgently. He moved to be completely on top of me now, his body interlocking with mine as he moved slowly on top of me.

I moaned into his mouth and briefly just forgot where I was and what was happening in my life; everything was him, and that was all I needed. I breathed in his musk of plants and water, and felt the softness of his curls entangled between my fingers. His body pressed down on top of mine, but it was a comforting sort of pressure, reassuring me that he was alive and here to care for me and be with me. His lips were soft and gentle against mine, and his pajamas were thin and soft themselves, so it was almost as though no clothes lay between us. The only sounds I could hear were the soft ones coming from his mouth at every kiss, and with my eyes closed I literally had no other sensation in my brain, it was all him, all him and his love and his affection, and I moaned quietly into his mouth with joy once again. He smiled into our kisses and I moved my fingers from his hair back down his back, reaching for the hem of his shirt happily.

“Don’t we have to get ready?” he mumbled, his voice hot and heavy against my mouth.

“We have time, it’s the buttcrack of dawn in the morning,” I mumbled.

“True,” he agreed, “But we should save time.”

“How so?” I asked, sighing happily as he traced kisses down from my lips to my neck, lightly covering it with them and brushing his lips against every inch of my skin.

“Oh, I just think that it would truly be a good use of our time if we went into the shower together,” Neville breathed.

“Yes, I do believe you are correct,” I moaned happily, running my hands through his hair as he brought his lips up to kiss mine again.

“Sadly, it is so hard for me to get out of bed when you’re next to me in it,” Neville lamented, kissing me lovingly and wrapping his arms all the way around my body, squeezing me tightly up next to him.

“Well that’s a problem, since typically one must exist beds,” I snorted, kissing him passionately and finally slipping my tongue in between his lips. He moaned loudly at this and finally ran his hands underneath my shirt, tracing them along my stomach lightly.

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His hands moved up towards my breasts and lightly cupped them both as he kissed me more urgently, massaging them lovingly and rolling them about in his hands. I moaned into his mouth and squirmed needfully underneath him, rapidly reaching for the hem of his shirt again and tugging on it. He quickly lifted his arms over his head and I pulled the shirt off of his body, running my hands back down along his chest and across his stomach. I traced my fingers over every inch of his body, enjoying the feeling of his soft skin underneath my hands, my lips hungrily moving against his as my tongue ran along the edges of his teeth.

“Maggie,” he moaned happily into my mouth, and he reached to take off my tank top now, allowing my breasts to finally bounce free. I giggled as he immediately dove his head in between them, sighing joyfully at the feeling of them all around him. He traced feather light kisses from the dip in between them along the side of my right breast, holding it in his hands and nibbling along the soft and somewhat sweaty skin. He finally traced his kisses up to my nipple and lightly latched onto it, his tongue rubbing up against it so lightly that I could barely think straight.

“Neville,” I moaned joyfully, running my fingers into his hair again and latching onto it tightly, entangling them in his curls and shifting needfully underneath him. He continued to lightly lick my nipple, making me gasp quietly and squirm with my hips rapidly. He then kissed every inch of the rest of my breast before making his way to the left one, happily kissing up along the side before latching onto the nipple and lightly licking it. I groaned louder and tugged on his hair, making him moan as he lapped at my breast, his hips thrusting somewhat into mine and his hands massaging my breast next to his mouth. He kept lightly licking it and it was such a soft and gentle sensation I could barely breathe, gasping with pleasure and sensation as he finally left the nipple to kiss all over my breast.

I moaned needfully and pulled him back up to kiss me, my lips moving rapidly and heavily against his. He wrapped his arms tightly around my torso and pulled me as close to him as possible, my breasts squishing up against his chest and my stomach flab squishing with his larger stomach flab. His hips were grinding against mine more urgently now and I groaned as he rubbed against my clit through our pajamas, the material so thin I could feel every inch of his penis hard against me. I moaned louder and reached for his butt, squeezing it hard and tightly in my hands and rolling the skin and fat between my fingers.

“Mags,” he groaned happily, wiggling his butt somewhat in my hands. I giggled at that and I reached to pull down his pajama pants from his hips fully, seductively running my hands all along his legs as I did so.

“Feeling vegetarian?” I asked seductively, journeying back up to hover in front of his hard penis.

“No, but,” Neville swallowed, “Not yet.”

“Not yet? What do you mean?” I asked curiously, but he was tracing kisses down my chest, nibbling on my breasts again and running down along my soft stomach, moving to my shorts and gently pulling them off with his teeth.

“I meant it when I said we should save time,” he grinned, planting a long and heavy kiss against my clit that made me cry out heavily, “Come on.”

I watched him in confusion as he got up from the bed and pulled me with him, before grinning with realization as he took me into the bathroom and closed and locked the door behind him.

“Don’t want your children sneaking in here,” he grinned.

“You really think the raptors can open doors?” I snorted.

“I’ve seen Jurassic Park enough times,” he shook his head rapidly.

“You do realize those aren’t real raptors –“

“Of course I do, but I’m not taking any chances,” Neville grinned down at me, “Come on, come into the shower with me.”

“I’ll come into the shower alright,” I joked, grinning cheekily at him. He laughed out loud and pulled me in for a long kiss, before pulling me into the shower and in for a long kiss as he turned on the hot water above our heads. I groaned happily and wrapped my arms and one of my legs around him, kissing him passionately and rapidly. His tongue quickly dived into my mouth and explored every inch of it, running along my teeth and rubbing up slowly along mine.

“Oh Neville,” I moaned happily as his hips lightly ground into mine, his penis rubbing up against my clit tantalizingly.

“Oh Maggie,” he responded, his hands gripping my hips as though holding on for dear life as he lightly rubbed his whole body along mine.

“Do you – I haven’t gotten anything ready,” I whispered, suddenly panic entering my soul as he could so easily slide inside of me as the hot water poured around us.

“Oh, no!” he quickly gasped, pulling back from our kisses, “I’m not ready yet, I – my body is, but the body and the mind are _not_ the same thing –“

“True,” I nodded, relief entering me again.

“I can’t control myself, but I can try –“

“No, it’s nice – just as long as we don’t actually –“

“Of course not,” Neville reassured, nodding rapidly, “I just like feeling _your_ parts against _mine_ , I can’t help it.”

“Oh obviously,” I giggled, “I like it too.” He stared deeply into my eyes as he slowly and hesitantly rubbed his penis against my clit again, and I moaned, maintaining eye contact with him as I did so. He groaned and pressed his forehead against mine, rubbing now more furiously against me, his penis growing ever harder and fuller as he did so. I swallowed heavily at that and I could feel myself getting extremely wet at the thought of him pounding into me, my heartbeat quickening horrifically at the thought. He pulled me in for a long kiss as I breathed heavily, gripping his back with my fingernails and whimpering needfully into his mouth.

“My body is ready too,” I whispered, “Dammit.”

Neville giggled at that and tried to stop rubbing to help us calm down, but all it took was me moving even slightly for him to start back up again. I groaned and leaned up against the shower wall, enjoying just the sensation of him rubbing against me.

“Dammit, Mags, I can’t stop,” he groaned, now pressing his face into my neck.

“I don’t want you to,” I whimpered, clutching at his back with my hands and holding onto him as tightly as I could.

“But – but – “ he gasped, pulling me in for a long kiss as his hips continued to move against mine. He was so hard against me that I could feel the veins along the surface, and they rubbed up against my clit so amazingly that I cried out loudly, my nails dragging slowly from his shoulders down his arms. He groaned louder and moved somewhat faster, making me practically scream at the feeling of him moving so quickly and so hard against me.

He traced kisses heavily and quickly down from my lips across my neck, moving to my breasts and now sucking on them heavily. I whimpered and cried out at that and rubbed my hips against his, making him groan heavily and suck harder. He sucked so hard on my breasts that I practically screamed his name, entangling my fingers in his hair and pulling on them. He screamed my name in response, and I honestly didn’t know if the steam in the shower was from the water or from us, my body feeling like it was on fire but in a good way for once. I ripped him from my breasts and pulled him in for a long passionate kiss, running my hands down his back and clawing heavily, scraping them down to his butt and holding it tightly in my hands. He groaned into my lips and kissed me hungrily, our hips still rubbing up heavily against each other as the water fell around us, me massaging and rolling his fat buttocks in my hands eagerly and desperately.

“Mags, if – I – ah,” he groaned loudly, his face pressing into my shoulder now, “Mags, I’m – I might – if – ung –“

He was moaning loudly and uncontrollably and so was I, unable to contain myself at the feelings. His legs were pressed up against mine, and his chest and mine were so tightly packed together that I didn’t honestly know where he began and I ended, and I couldn’t stop touching every inch of his skin that I could reach.

“Mags, I – I’m – if we – keep going – I’ll –“ Neville panted in my ear, rubbing so rapidly against me that I was practically screaming again, gripping his shoulders so tightly in my hands that I worried I was hurting him.

“If you go – a little – faster,” I panted, “I will – too –“

Neville moaned loudly at that and rubbed as fast as he could, his hips moving so quickly against mine that I saw stars at every touch. I ground mine against his in response and we were both moaning loudly together in the shower, our voices a chorus of pleasure as our hips ground back and forth against each other. I reached down with shaking hands to rub the tip of his penis with my fingers and he whimpered in a high pitched voice in response, and I rubbed as fast as I could as he rubbed himself up against me as quickly as he could. I couldn’t stop myself from reaching with my other hand to grip his shoulder tightly with my fingernails, screaming his name loudly as I started to climb towards the edge, my hips moving so furiously against his that it was as though I was trying to fuse our skin together with the friction. And he grew harder too as he reached his own explosion, his penis pressed so tightly and fully against me that it increased the amount of it rubbing against my clit, and my clit was more raised and exposed the more aroused I got, and I pulled him in for a long and heavy passionate kiss as finally I exploded, everything contracting and vibrating throughout me. He cried out into my mouth as he finally exploded too, white warm liquid pouring from him and spurting up onto my stomach and onto the shower floor.

We panted together as we climbed back down together, staring deeply into each other’s eyes and pressing our foreheads together. The water from the shower washed away all the semen from my stomach and onto the floor, and I slowly ran my hands along his back as he ran his up and down my sides. He gently traced his hand up to my face to cup it in his hands, his thumb rubbing gently against my cheek.

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“I love you so much Mags,” he mumbled, pulling me in for a long and loving kiss. I sighed joyfully against it and wrapped my arms tightly around his shoulders, pulling myself close to him and feeling his hot, wet skin against mine.

“I love you so much Nev,” I whispered in response, staring into his brown eyes and losing myself in them. He kissed me lightly again and ran his hands from my face down my neck to my arms, tracing every inch of my skin with his hands.

“You are so beautiful,” he mumbled, his eyes sweeping over my naked body, across my chest and stomach and down my hips and legs, “And strong, and brilliant, and just – just perfect…”

“You are also so beautiful,” I murmured, making his face contort into the widest of grins as I moved my fingertips to his face to lightly stroke his cheek and jawline, “And strong, and brilliant, and absolutely perfect.”

“Oh Mags,” he whispered softly, kissing me on the lips and pulling back to press his forehead and nose into mine while staring into my eyes, “How is it possible for anyone to love someone as much as I love you?”

“I’m not sure,” I murmured, my heart filling practically to burst with the emotion, “But it must be, since I love you that much, as well.”

“It has to be impossible for the universe to contain all of this,” Neville wrapped his arms around me tightly and squeezed, his eyes filling with tears of joy.

“Turns out it’s not,” I reassured, kissing him firmly on the lips, “It’s not.”

“And I just keep loving you more and more every day – oh – there has to be a cap,” he whimpered, tears now flowing heavily from his eyes as he pressed his face into my shoulder again.

“I don’t think there is, Nev, because I keep loving you more and more too,” I whispered.

“Mags, if I lose you in this war, I won’t be able to bear it,” Neville gasped through his tears, looking up at me as they slid down his face.

“Well I won’t be able to either, Nev,” I swallowed, “I already determined this at the Ministry, and so did you when… yeah.”

“Let’s run,” Neville gasped, “Let’s just go. Let’s pack our things, herd the Flock, and run to – to – America isn’t good enough they’ll look for us there – Australia – I know my way around…”

“We can’t,” I mumbled mournfully, “You know we can’t. Harry needs us.”

“Dammit,” Neville sobbed, and he was crying heavily against my shoulder now, and I held him as tightly to me as I possibly could, tears escaping from my own eyes as I squeezed and felt his naked back press into my arms.

“Dammit, dammit, dammit,” Neville moaned, sobbing and heaving heavily with the force of his fear, and I pulled his face out from my shoulder and looked at him desperately.

“Nev, Nev I know – I know – I know,” I repeated, swallowing heavily and stroking his cheek with my fingertips, “I know. But don’t focus on that – don’t focus on the idea that we might die, or that one of us might lose the other.”

“What should I focus on?” he begged, staring at me desperate, “Tell me, Mags. Please. Because every night I lay awake crying – I’m so terrified of losing you – and I know you’re awake too –“

“I’m terrified too,” I agreed, “And I can’t help but think of that too. But… but I comfort myself with…”

“With what?” he blubbered, wiping tears from his eyes and rinsing his face in the hot water.

“Nev, I picture our babies,” I smiled weakly. Neville stared at me in surprise, his eyes widening somewhat.

“You do?” he gasped.

“I do,” I nodded, “It’s far enough in the future that I can picture it without planning or thinking of logistics, and it’s an idyllic sort of thought, one that comforts me without freaking me out – it’s so hard for me to find future thoughts that don’t immediately make me think of death, but that one doesn’t.”

“What do you picture?” Neville asked, pressing his forehead to mine and staring at me adoringly.

“I picture a little girl with dark skin like mine, but really curly hair like yours,” I smiled, “She’s… she’s four, and she’s running on these short legs, but she wants to run because she wants to be like me… she has a small lisp, but she’s constantly talking, and so eager to talk about plants because she loves to watch you work with them… her hair’s in little pigtails and her eyes are always so wide with curiosity, and she basically goes at a mile a minute, but, but that’s okay, we keep up with her just fine because we love her, and she crashes at night as hard as she goes during the day, and she’s so affectionate and loving when we put her to bed, and she always mumbles ‘I love you daddy, I love you mummy’ in the smallest, sleepiest little voice as she falls asleep…”

Neville was openly sobbing and I held him tighter, crying with him and pressing myself against him.

“And I picture a boy with light skin like yours, and long straight hair because he wants his hair long. He’s shy and quiet and likes to read, and he reads voraciously – you or I will be looking for one of our textbooks and he’ll have it in his hands, not understanding all the words because he’s four, but, loving looking at the pictures. And when we find him he’ll be sheepish because he stole one of our books again, but he’ll immediately ask thousands of questions about what he was trying to read, and point to pictures and ask what every part of them means. And he won’t be as active as his twin, but he’ll love just following her about at a distance, watching her being chaotic and happy, and being happy watching her. And he’s quieter than his sister but when he goes to bed he’s barely sleepy, so he’s the one to ask for a bedtime story. And we tell him one and then he kisses both of us, rather than say I love you, because he doesn’t like talking much. And then he falls asleep, and both look so peaceful and happy, and they’re happy because _we_ love them so much, and they know it, and we’ve made sure they’re safe by going through all of this… they’re safe, and we’re safe, and everything’s wonderful…” I managed to gasp out, swallowing slightly with the force of my emotions, tears threatening to pour from my eyes at the thought.

Neville immediately grabbed my face in his hands and kissed me heavily, his lips moving furiously against mine. I squeaked in surprise as he kissed me voraciously and needfully, his hands running all over me and his hips grinding into mine again. I moaned softly at the sensation, my mind going blissfully blank as he touched me everywhere and overwhelmed me with pleasure again, when suddenly I snapped back to logic and looked at him in amusement, pulling back rapidly.

“Are you trying to have us conceive them now?” I laughed weakly as he started hungrily attacking my neck.

“Now,” he agreed, grinding against me harder.

“Now?” I breathed as he returned his lips to mine and we kissed each other desperately, our tongues dancing furiously as the hot water attacked our skin.

“Now,” he repeated, looking at me passionately and gripping my back in his hands.

“Nev, you know we can’t now,” I managed to gasp out, though nothing brought me more joy in my head, “We aren’t even ready to have heteronormative sex!”

Neville sighed, swallowing and looking sheepish.

“The intimacy of just _orgasming_ together just sent you careening into an emotional pit – I think we need more time before we do that. And don’t even get me started at how _not ready_ we are to raise children!” I laughed weakly.

“You’re right,” Neville nodded, “You’re right – I just – love you so much –“

“I know,” I smiled, kissing him, “I love you so much.”

“And – I just – my god, I want them. I want them so bad,” he whispered, his eyes widening with earnest.

“I do too,” I agreed, “And we’ll have them. We’re survivors. We _will_.”

He nodded, kissing me again, before looking at the hot water and steam filling the bathroom to the brim. “Guess we better actually shower, huh?”

“Yeah,” I laughed weakly, helping him clean up as he helped me, kissing each other lightly at random moments and just resting at each other while smiling, staring deeply into each other’s eyes with love.

When we got out, the Flock were all still sleeping in a large cuddle pile of multicolored floof. It had been a while since we had entered the shower, and we got dressed quickly to run down to breakfast, squeezing each other’s hands tightly as we jogged through the corridors.

Given the intimacy of the morning, the rest of the day passed by in a haze, with neither of us able to pay much attention to Charms, Defense or Arithmancy. Instead we wrote notes back and forth describing our future children, talking about how cute they would be and how much we would love them, often finding ourselves staring deeply into each other’s eyes with love and passion. The teachers, if they noticed this, decided to ignore it – which was probably for the best all around.

And so we reached the Room of the Requirement in the evening, resting up and cuddling together, even though we should have ben working on homework.

“Who cares about homework,” Neville murmured softly into my hair, playing with it and gently running his fingers along my cheek and forehead. His arms were wrapped tightly around me and mine were around him, curling together as close as we could.

“I certainly don’t,” I agreed, pressing my lips into his and rolling my body into his. He groaned quietly and nuzzled up against me, his face pressed into my neck closely and cutely.

“Oh bloody hell.”

We looked up from our closely intertwined position on the couch to see Harry standing there, looking furious.

“Don’t tell me you’re _alone_ ,” he groaned.

“Yeah, ‘Mione’s on patrol,” Neville shrugged.

I frowned and turned to look at him in amazement, “Don’t you have that occasionally?”

He grimaced and frowned awkwardly, “Well… yes, in theory.”

“You are without a doubt the worst Prefect I’ve ever heard of,” I giggled, tucking my legs in tightly against his stomach. He stroked the bare skin of my knee lovingly and grinned at me.

“I didn’t want to be a prefect in the first place, not my fault Dumbledore mollycoddled Harry.”

“Well he’s not mollycoddling me now,” Harry rolled his eyes, sitting down against the couch on the floor.

“Oh dear, how’d your meeting with him go?” I asked.

“I’ll tell you lot when Mione gets back,” Harry grunted, “For now I’m going to go… I dunno, angstily wander the corridors.”

“Oh for the love of Merlin, Harry!” I groaned.

“You can’t stop me –“

“There is _such an easy solution to your problem_!” I roared. Neville looked from me to Harry in surprise, his eyes widening.

“What problem? What’s up? Harry? What’s wrong?” he asked rapidly.

“Oh bloody hell,” Harry repeated.

“Harry, you should talk to Neville, he’ll say the same thing I did,” I stated firmly, not even caring about Harry’s caveats at telling Neville. I felt a twinge of guilt at this, but he was making both himself _and_ Hermione suffer, and well, I couldn’t just sit idly by and let that happen.

“Fuck you, Mags,” Harry grumbled.

“You’re hurting yourself and her and I won’t let you anymore,” I spat back.

“What the hell is going on?!” Neville shouted.

“Fine,” Harry sighed, “Fine.” He sighed heavily, staring at his hands for a long time. Neville looked at me in confusion and I just shook my head silently, knowing Harry would say something in his own time.

“I’m in love with Hermione,” Harry murmured.

“YOU’RE JOSHING ME!” Neville cheered, his face contorting into a wide, joyful grin. I lightly smacked him in the arm to calm him the fuck down.

“I’m not doing anything about it because we’re in the middle of a war, and I don’t want to put her into danger for being my girlfriend,” Harry explained quietly, swallowing heavily.

“Oh that’s bullshit,” Neville snorted.

“That’s what I said,” I sighed.

“It’s _not_ bullshit –“

“It totally is! Harry, either one of you could die – Hermione almost did! How would you have felt if she had left this world and you had never told her how you feel?” Neville insisted, “You’re acting ridiculous!”

“And how will I feel if we do get together and the Death Eaters capture her specifically for that and torture her because she’s my girlfriend?” Harry spat back, “I’d – I’d die – it would all be my fault –“

“Mate, Hermione is already a target, _she started a revolution_ ,” Neville shook his head rapidly, “Nope, no more dangerous if you date her, too – and you need to – Harry, she’s been pining after you since we were kids – its slowly killing her inside –“

Harry looked frightfully guilty, but continued shaking his head in defiance.

“Oh bloody hell,” Neville groaned.

“There’s no use, he’s being belligerent,” I grunted, “But this is why he’s been acting more moody than usual.”

“Oi!”

“You have BPD, by _definition_ you’re a moody person,” I snorted, “And then you’re the Chosen One and have had all this crap happen to you, making you extremely moody – and now you’ve just been over the top.”

“It all makes sense now – he’s jealous of what we have!” Neville laughed.

“Exactly. And he could have all of that for himself if he just took that huge metal rod out of his arse,” I rolled my eyes.

Harry turned to glare at me furiously as the door to the Room opened.

“Sorry everyone – some students were trying to vandalize the more… weakened part of the castle. Hard to explain that just because Hogwarts keeps getting destroyed by Death Eaters, doesn’t mean we can just treat the castle all willy nilly,” Hermione rolled her eyes, and her hair was up in a ponytail, “It would have been so much easier to control them if I had had, say, _my prefect partner_ with me…”

“I was busy enjoying life,” Neville snorted.

“Enjoy life on your own time –“

“This _is_ my time!”

“We could all die tomorrow, Hermione. And how would you feel if you had denied Neville and me one more moment of joy?” I smirked.

“Dead, I imagine, since you said we could ‘all’ die tomorrow,” Hermione rolled her eyes.

“My point stands –“

“If we let society and order fall by the wayside, the Death Eaters and Ministry have won.”

Aren’t we… trying to _take down_ Ministry society and order?” I laughed. Hermione scowled heavily as Neville and Harry roared with laughter.

“Alright, how’d your meeting with Dumbledore go, Harry?” Hermione asked, sitting down next to him on the floor next to the couch. Harry looked at her lovingly – though I don’t think she noticed – and Neville was grinning from ear to ear. Harry caught the look and glared at him as though to kill him, but Neville kept grinning happily anyway.

“Well I learned more about Voldypants,” Harry shrugged, “What he was like before Hogwarts.”

“Oh?” I asked, frowning.

“Well, first off, apparently his mum sold Slytherin’s locket to Burke for only about ten Galleons, because Burke is a dick,” Harry nodded matter-of-factly, “His mum was… it wasn’t her fault, really, that she was weak. She never had the courage my mum did. And she was weakened by suffering so much her whole life.”

We all looked at each other – weakened ourselves for similar reasons. Swallowing and taking deep breaths, Harry continued.

“But Voldemort was raised in an orphanage… no one ever came looking for him, and he was thought of as funny by the woman who ran the orphanage. He was a bully… he scared the other kids, murdered a rabbit… stole some of their things… isolated two children in a cave in Ireland and probably did something bad to them… and he was very… very cold,” Harry shivered, “Immediately thought Dumbledore was there to take him to the loony bin. Got all angry and violent. Took forever to convince him that Hogwarts was in fact a school, and when Dumbledore finally mentioned magic he got all starry-eyed and just entranced because he looked happy that he understood what he could do now – accepted it immediately, always knew he was special, he looked so freaking happy – it was _disturbing_ – and he was rude to Dumbledore, but Dumbledore controlled him immediately, and made him return the things he’d stolen to the other kids… Voldemort insisted he’d go get his schoolbooks and things by himself, rather than with Dumbledore, and he also insisted that his mum couldn’t have been magic, because she died… must have been his dad… he was so convinced…” Harry shivered madly.

“So he was disturbing from the beginning. Got it,” Neville swallowed.

“That _is_ disconcerting,” Hermione whispered.

“He didn’t want to be called Tom, either – didn’t like common things, didn’t like being like other people. You could just… from this one scene, it was almost… _comical_ , how easy it was to predict what he would become,” Harry muttered.

“Bet his whole independence streak means something, too,” I sighed.

“Yup,” Harry nodded, “Dumbledore doesn’t think Voldemort’s ever had a friend – he doesn’t need or want them. Anyone who claims to be close to him is fooling themself.”

“Obviously,” Hermione rolled her eyes.

“And Dumbledore pointed this out _specifically_ – how he stole all those objects from the people he’d bullied – he liked to collect trophies,” Harry swallowed.

“Trophies?” I frowned.

“Trophies,” Harry nodded.

“What does this mean?” Neville demanded.

“I’m sure I’ll find out in time,” Harry sighed.

“Voldemort, truly disturbing from birth until death, apparently,” I grimaced.

“Well that’s comforting, since none of us were,” Hermione murmured.

“No,” Harry admitted, “But I’m worried… Dumbledore is presenting Voldemort to me as… literally less than human.”

“Yeah,” Neville agreed softly.

“Voldemort is weird, but evil can emerge in normal people, too,” I stated firmly, “After Umbridge, we aren’t going to forget that.”

Harry nodded, looking pensive, as we sat there in tense silence.

Would we, too, be capable of great evil, thinking we were doing the right thing? We wouldn’t be Voldemort – but everyone had the capability to be Umbridge.

And that was more terrifying than any cold, terrorizing little boy in a London orphanage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the kind of filler-y chapter - we've literally just been GOING AND GOING AND GOING nonstop lately, I thought it was time to take a step back, take a deep breath, and have some Magville fluff, and a reminder that this is a Harry Potter story... somewhere underneath all the changes. PLEASE comment, and thank you for reading!
> 
> ALSO PLEASE CHECK OUT MY CHARACTER CONCEPTS! All DA members are now there along with Cedric Diggory, Zacharias Smith, Marietta Edgecomb, and Shae! http://dinolove453.deviantart.com/gallery/57366854/Changes-Everything-Character-Concepts   
> Let me know what you think for that too, and please comment! Thanks for reading!


	101. Chapter One Hundred: October 24 - 25, 1996, Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "If you could only see the beast you've made of me   
> I held it in but now it seems you've set it running free   
> Screaming in the dark, I howl when we're apart   
> drag my teeth across your chest to taste your beating heart 
> 
> My fingers claw your skin, try to tear my way in   
> You are the moon that breaks the night for which I have to howl   
> My fingers claw your skin, try to tear my way in   
> You are the moon that breaks the night for which I have to 
> 
> Howl, howl   
> Howl, howl 
> 
> Now there's no holding back, I'm making to attack   
> My blood is singing with your voice, I want to pour it out   
> The saints can't help me now, the ropes have been unbound   
> I hunt for you with bloody feet across the hallow'd ground 
> 
> like some child possessed, the beast howls in my veins   
> I want to find you tear out all your tenderness 
> 
> And howl, howl   
> Howl, howl 
> 
> Be careful of the curse that falls on young lovers   
> Starts so soft and sweet and turns them to hunters   
> Hunters, hunters, hunters   
> Hunters, hunters, hunters"   
> ~ Florence and the Machine, "Howl".

Chapter 100: October 24 – 25, 1996, Hogwarts

“DA party after Alliance this Friday, you think?” Ginny suggested idly during dinner the next day, frowning slightly.

“Really? We have rallies in Leeds and Glasgow this weekend, should be resting up for that,” I coked my head to the side.

“Eh, we’re not resting, let’s be real. Ninety percent of us are lying awake at night, wondering if it’s our last,” Ginny shrugged.

“Do you ever think about the fact that you’re fifteen and saying this?” I snorted.

“Do you ever think about the fact that when you were fifteen you were also saying this?” Ginny shot back.

“Fair point,” I admitted, “Sure, party, oh great social human.”

“I just like bringing us all together while we can,” Ginny shrugged.

“It’s a noble goal!” I reassured, “I’m just… tired.”

“Same,” Ginny sighed, “I’m going to go make out with Nadia in the Room of Requirement. Are you four going to be in there?”

“Nah, probably not. Hermione managed to actually rope Neville into doing prefect stuff and Harry should be planning Quidditch – aren’t you on the team?” I raised an eyebrow.

“Yes,” Ginny snorted, “Yes I am.”

“This year is ridiculous,” I rolled my eyes, walking back up to my room. The Flock was all waiting there, and they all eagerly perked up at my appearance, scurrying about me happily. They had eaten their food for the day, so I was sure they just needed some exercise and stimulation.

“Alright gents,” I laughed, leaving the room without my bag now and walking with them all through the corridor. Blue still headed the Flock, looking right proud of herself, her head more upright than usual and her long snout poking my back to get me to move faster. Behind her was Ave, the apparent second in command, and he was in charge of making sure the rest of them actually behaved; he constantly turned about to snap and hiss at them when they started getting wily and worked up. Deena followed him, her head low to the ground and curiously examining everything, sniffing at every stone and crack between them. Mong followed her, eagerly watching the two in the lead and trying to keep up, but Deena’s distractedness constantly got in his way, so instead he just trotted happily. Finally, Penny brought up the rear, constantly looking behind her, as though examining to make sure no one was coming after them all.

We walked happily throughout Hogwarts, pausing on occasion so Deena could explore and sniff out her surroundings. The others would usually follow suit when she did this, except Blue, who would take to nuzzling up against me.

“You’re a good leader,” I praised, scratching her lovingly behind her crest. Blue chirped happily and nuzzled more against me as the others fell back into formation, but once they saw that I was giving affection to Blue, immediately crowded around me for the same. I laughed and just sat on the floor of the corridor, allowing them all to climb on me and around me, as I tried to scratch and nuzzle as many of them as I could.

“See, you wanted a family Blue, but now you have _competition_ for my affections,” I laughed as Blue hissed in irritation as everyone took her usual spot. Ave in particular had managed to grab the coveted lap perch, nestling in perfectly in the hole my legs made when I sat cross-legged. Ave did the eye scrunchy thing and pressed his head up against his body, becoming a ball of happy floof as I scratched him.

Blue hissed angrily at Ave, nudging him in the head to try and get him out of her spot. Ave just became more of a ball in defiance, but he opened one eye and chirped once in playfulness. Deena, Mong and Penny were all content to just sit around me, happily chirping whenever I took the time to scratch them.

Blue kept nudging Ave to try and get him to get up and Ave remained stubbornly put, and suddenly they were hissing angrily at each other, feathers ruffling as Ave removed himself from his ball position and snapped at Blue in irritation.

“Calm down, you two!” I ordered, frowning. Blue and Ave kept fighting, and suddenly Ave was chasing Blue away, running through the hallway rapidly. I immediately got up and followed them, shouting in anger and partly fear, as the other three followed me as fast as their little legs could carry them.

We followed them down multiple corridors, the other three chirping with distress as we did so, me calling after them at the top of my lungs. Finally, we rounded a corner and the two were running in circles around Neville, who was staring at the situation in confusion and amusement. Hermione was shaking her head in bemusement, her palm pressed to her face as she did so.

“Care to explain what all this is about, then?” Neville asked, chortling.

“Fighting over who gets to sit in my lap, apparently,” I rolled my eyes.

“Ah, a leadership fight,” Neville nodded, “How do we explain that you’re the leader?”

“I think that’s obvious, it’s who is in second place,” I sighed, “And it’s obviously Blue.”

“Alright, how do we explain that?” Neville laughed.

“AVE!” I shouted at the top of my lungs. He stopped chasing her in his tracks, looking up at me instantly, his head snapping rapidly. Blue kept running and ran straight into him, knocking the two of them over on the ground. Ave started hissing at Blue and she hissed back at him, the two snapping even more now at each other, and I got significantly worried it would escalate into violence.

“AVE, BLUE, _STOP!_ ” I screeched, and the two finally stopped their squabbling, looking up at me immediately.

“Blue is the leader,” I said, not knowing if they understood or not, but I pointed to her just in case, “She came _first_. She is the _oldest_. You’re going to have to _deal with it_ , Ave.”

Ave made a small sound of sadness but I didn’t bend, continuing to point at Blue, who looked right proud of herself. I then knelt down to their level, looking at the both of them kindly.

“Now can you please get along? You’re family,” I smiled.

The two looked at me for a while before chirping tentatively at one another, before finally nuzzling up against each other, their necks rubbing together and both of them making small little chirps.

“Are they related?” Hermione asked curiously.

“Nope, all just random ravens McGonagall had laying around that she didn’t need for class,” I shrugged, smiling as the two of them happily started chirping with the rest of them.

“Do they remember each other from when they were ravens?” Hermione furthered, watching in amusement as the five of them all started playing with one another, chirping and chasing each other in a friendly manner now, happily hopping around the corridor.

“I don’t know – maybe the four new ones do? But Blue’s been gone so long… I dunno,” I frowned.

“They know each other now,” Neville stated firmly, nodding.

“Fair enough, well they might be something of a handful, but I am so glad of how happy they make you,” Hermione smiled. I grinned back at her as the five raptors started walking through the corridor, towards where I had no idea, but I immediately leapt to my feet.

“Where the hell –“ I shouted, following them quickly as Hermione and Neville laughed at my retreat. The five were trotting through the corridors, happily chirping with each other, and obviously had no idea where they were actually going.

“Bloody hell, guys,” I groaned, trying to duck around to be in front of them all, but they were moving too quickly and too chaotically, still stopping on occasion so Deena could explore the environment. At one point they stopped for a while, because Deena was extremely distracted; I frowned and looked around at where we were, and explored somewhat myself. I hadn’t been paying attention to where we were walking; as I moved through the corridor, I recognized more and more of my surroundings.

“Huh,” I whispered, “Must not be blocked off anymore.”

I was on the third floor corridor, a place I had not been for years – right outside the Fluffy chamber. I swallowed and hesitated next to the door, my hand resting on the handle. I knew Fluffy wasn’t in there anymore, but still, I couldn’t help but be curious and cautious at the idea of going in.

I turned the door handle slowly; when no growling met my ears, I turned it fully and opened the door. The room was covered in a thick layer of dust, and the trapdoor was open, as black as night below. I swallowed and walked closer to it, peering down into the darkness, trying to make out if the Snare was still there.

The raptors chirped happily behind me; I panicked and immediately closed the trap door, terrified one would fall in and hit the Snare, and I wouldn’t be able to save them. The raptors chirped more behind me and began exploring the dusty room, coughing in tiny little birdy coughs as the dust flooded their delicate lungs. Deena especially kept sniffing around where Fluffy used to live, presumably smelling the remnants of the dog, which was probably why we were there in the first place.

“Alright guys, come on,” I ordered, worried for their respiratory systems, herding them all out of the room and closing the door behind us. Blue chirped at me in curiosity and I simply shook my head, managing to maintain order and lead them in a line back to the room. I was overwhelmed with emotions and memories, and as we walked I eventually couldn’t handle it any more, leaning against the stone corridor wall for support.

Blue chirped at me worriedly – she could always tell when I was doing poorly. I slid down to sit on the ground again and she sat in my lap without any argument from Ave or the others. Ave curled up on top of my legs, nestling in between Blue and me. Penny rested on my feet, and Mong and Deena each took my legs, and all five were somehow on top of me as I sat there, overwhelmed and silent in the corridor. I idly pet them all as I was taken back in memory to a simpler time, a simpler life, where I actually managed to feel safe.

Had I ever felt safe?

Had there ever been a time in my life where I thought that I was going to live through to the next day with one hundred percent certainty?

Certainly not before we had happened upon the third floor corridor.

I remembered finding that giant dog – us all being scared – freaking out and turning to run – Hermione and Neville deciding to not talk to us anymore for a while – basically traumatizing Neville…

I smiled slightly as I thought of younger Nev. Would I have ever guessed where we would be now?

I thought of my extreme need and instinct to protect him when Malfoy was making fun of him; I thought of the look on his face when I called him brave. I thought of how wonderful it felt to hug him even when being with him was the furthest thing of my mind.

I wouldn’t have guessed it, but if someone had suggested it, I would have believed it.

Tears started pouring from my eyes in droves now, and I couldn’t control them. I had dragged Neville into this mess. Hermione too. I dragged them both in. Harry hadn’t initially wanted to be friends with them. It was all my fault. They could die any day, and it was all my fault. Hadn’t Hermione said on the day we met to keep my head down? Hadn’t Neville said something along the same lines? They never would have gotten into danger without me.

I was sobbing heavily now and I couldn’t stop it, my chest heaving as tears poured in streams down my eyes. It was all my fault. I was going to kill them and it was all my fault. Hermione had, less than a week ago, nearly been hit with a killing curse. Neville had had the same just a few days ago. Harry was always doomed, but those two – they were my fault.

I pressed my face into Blue’s feathers and she chirped in alarm, and suddenly she was chirping at the other raptors. I watched in confusion as the other four spread out, running through the corridors away from me, seemingly on Blue’s orders.

“Wha –“ I sniffled, looking down at her, but she didn’t leave. She simply curled up closer to me and rubbed her head up against my stomach, chirping repeatedly. She then held out her wings a little and flapped them, looking awkward as all hell with her arms extended like that.

“What _are_ you doing?” I asked in confusion, snorting back up some snot into my nose and trying to not cry more.

Blue then pressed her wings into my body like that, her long head nestled up against my chest. She wasn’t able to actually wrap her arms around me, but if I didn’t know better, I’d have thought Blue was _hugging_ me.

“What the hell?” I laughed weakly, hiccupping. Blue pulled back, looking like when Neville had accidentally stepped on her tail once, but still chirping at me happily.

“Did you hug me?” I laughed louder, “You know your wings shouldn’t extend like that, you’re going to break your arms.”

Blue just chirped again, looking proud rather than pained now. I snorted and hugged her, wrapping my arms loosely around her middle.

“You don’t have to act like a human, silly bird,” I sniffled, crying a little again now that the distraction of Blue being weird had worn off. I full on began sobbing again as the thoughts flooded my brain once more, and I held Blue a little tighter and she chirped loudly in distress. My body shook with the force of my wails as I tried to quiet them to no avail, gripping Blue’s warm little body with all my might.

“Mags?! Mags!”

I looked up and saw Neville sprinting towards me, followed closely by Penny, who was chirping rapidly. Nev dove to my side and pulled me into his arms, holding me tightly and covering my face in small kisses.

Blue managed to wiggle out of my grasp at that and chirped at Penny, who ran away again. I burst into tears into Neville’s shirt, sobbing horrifically and shaking in his arms.

“It’s – all – my – fault –“

“What’s all your fault? Mags, what’s wrong? Penny just ran up to me and basically tugged on my pants – wouldn’t let go – I had to follow her – and then I saw you and I just ran –“

“It’s all my fault – you and Hermione are going to die and it’s all my fault –“

“What?”

“I – me – it was me – it was all me – it’s all my fault –“

“Mags, take a deep breath, _please_ ,” Neville urged, pulling me close to him in his lap and kissing me on the forehead. I followed his orders, taking shaking breaths in and out slowly and nuzzling into his chest, holding to him tightly for dear life.

“What happened? What do you mean, it’s all your fault? And what’s this about me and ‘Mione dying?”

“I – when we were first years – neither of you wanted to get into anything. You just wanted peace, and to fly under the radar. Both of you. And then I dragged you both into this mess with Harry and me and the fact that we’re magnets for danger, and you still didn’t want to, when Fluffy happened you ran away, but I pulled you back in anyway, and now it’s six years later and I’m the reason you’re going to die – Harry wasn’t as belligerent about being friends with you guys as I was – Hermione almost died last weekend and you almost died a few days ago – and it’s going to be all my fault when you do die – all my fault – all my fault –“

“Why are you thinking – oh,” Neville’s face widened in realization as he looked in the direction of the third floor corridor, “Why are you over here?”

“Deena smelled whatever Fluffy smell there was left and was curious, I guess,” I whispered.

“Mags,” Neville murmured, tucking my hair from my bangs behind my ear, and lightly running his fingers through my ponytail, “Mags, you’re not the reason any of us are going to die. Hermione and I could have walked away for good any time first year – any time. Hell, we could have walked away for good any time this _whole_ time – we aren’t contractually obligated to be your best mates. We chose this. I chose you, from the moment I saw you on that train.”

I sniffled heavily, “But –“

“But nothing. I was a small child, and I was finally away from my abusive home for the first time in my whole life, so I ran a couple times, but everything considered I chose you instantly. I looked into that train compartment and I was bound to you by thousands of unbreakable strings, even though I didn’t know it, even though you didn’t know it, and that’s not your fault or my fault or Harry’s fault or Hermione’s or _anyone_ ’s. It’s just how our lives worked out. And maybe I’ll die – or maybe I’ll live – and I don’t care, because I got to spend the meaningful years of my life with you – the years when I grew up, became myself, realized who I wanted to be as a person and became it. The years I figured out my gender and sexuality. The years I realized I loved plants and genetics and science. The years I realized what I believed in – equality, fairness, goodness, kindness – and realized I would do anything to defend those things. You were with me for all of that, and you’ll be with me for whatever comes next, and if that thing is death, well, I’m glad I’ll spend my final moments by your side,” Neville soothed softly, “I wouldn’t trade any of that in for the world – and if the price of having you in my life is getting dragged into this hell – well I’ll get dragged into it a thousand times over.”

I sobbed louder and collapsed into his arms, tears staining his shirt heavily as the sound of small feet against the stone came closer and closer. I weakly looked up to see all of the Flock members approaching us, chirping happily at us. I smiled somewhat and pet them all lovingly, and suddenly I was buried underneath a mound of fluffy affection and Neville affection, all six of them showering me with whatever their version of physical signs of love was.

“I think Blue’s worked out a system for extremely depressed Maggie,” Neville chuckled softly in my ear.

“I think she did, too,” I whispered, reaching out and scratching her rapidly on the back of her crest, “Thank you Blue.”

Blue chirped happily and rubbed her head under my hand, clearly proud of herself. I scratched her lovingly and Neville kissed me softly on the side of the head, and I started to calm down somewhat, though the guilt still lay there, festering underneath the surface.

“You have therapy this week, right?” Neville mumbled.

“Yeah,” I whispered back, pressing my head into his chest, “I go every week, it’s really working –“

“Good, _please_ talk to her about this,” Neville insisted.

“I will,” I promised.

“I love you, Mags. Please don’t think you’ve brought me pain. You’ve only brought me joy,” Neville whispered.

“I tried to kill myself and –“

“No no no no, that wasn’t you, love, that wasn’t you. That was your depression, which isn’t you.”

“It’s a part of me…”

“Yeah, it is. I know that. But that extreme manifestation of it… that’s not you. You are not destined to die by your own hand, and you and I both know that. So don’t let your depression win, okay?”

“Okay,” I mumbled. Neville proceeded to kiss every single inch of my face in small little affectionate kisses, holding to my arms tightly and pulling me close to him. I sighed and even giggled a little under all the affection and when he pulled back I couldn’t help but smile.

“You should get back to patrolling with Hermione,” I murmured, swallowing.

“Nah,” Neville shook his head, “I’m a terrible prefect, why start being good at it now. Come on, let’s go to our room.”

We lead the trail of raptors together, walking into our room with him basically holding me the whole way. The raptors all immediately climbed onto the bed – even though we had been trying harder than ever to set boundaries – but I didn’t care. I got in after them and curled up into a ball, and Neville quickly followed me, holding me close to him and kissing away the tears streaming down my cheeks.

“it’s not your fault, it’s not your fault, it’s not your fault, it’s not your fault,” Neville murmured. I nodded rapidly and continued sniffling and crying, glad that he was letting me cry and comforting me, until I finally fell asleep like that, once again surrounded by Neville and by floof.

Luckily, I then had therapy the next day, and I talked for hours and hours with Dr. Wilson about how finding the former sight of Fluffy the Dog had made me feel, and though I was crying coming out of the session, I always knew that meant that something was going right.

Alliance went wonderfully as always, and then that night we had Ginny’s party, which was sure to be a completely insane time in the Room of Requirement, for as she had said at dinner, “I’ve invited _everyone._ ”

“What do you mean by _everyone_?” I asked as we walked from the Defense classroom to the Room of Requirement.

“I mean everyone!” Ginny said brightly, “You’ll see!”

“Bloody hell Gin,” Neville groaned.

“What’s life without some surprises?” Ginny giggled.

“Peaceful,” Neville, Hermione and I responded in unison.

“Bloody hell – do you guys practice that in mirrors or sommat?” Ginny raised an eyebrow.

“Yes,” I nodded.

“Every day,” Neville sighed.

“It’s an important part of our image,” Hermione agreed.

“How else are we supposed to seem like a one-mind conglomerate?” I insisted.

“It’s one of our most important tactics for freaking out our enemies –“ Neville stated matter-of-factly.

“This is getting out of hand! They’ll say,” Hermione giggled.

“Now there are _four of them!_ ” I gasped, laughing loudly.

“Oh my god you _nerds_ –“

“But you love us!” we all responded in unison. Ginny groaned louder and basically ran into the Room, rolling her eyes as she did so.

“What is happening _now_?” Terry asked behind us, scurrying to keep up as he entered the room with us.

“We’re annoying Ginny by being weird,” Hermione explained, giggling again.

“Okay but how is that news –“

“Argh!” Ginny roared.

“Come gents, we are all coming back from a fantastic Alliance meeting, where the queer was strong and the gay was stronger –“ Ernie laughed.

“ _Must_ you call all people of non-conforming identities gay?” Neville rolled his eyes.

“Embrace the gay,” Ernie nodded, “Embrace it, comrade.”

“This just in – queer people are communists,” I snorted.

“Oh god, I feel like you just described a large group of people’s worst nightmare –“ Terry laughed.

“A liberal, evolution-touting, queer communist,” Sam butted in, grinning, “Yes, perfect.”

“The ideal individual!”

“They have to be the ultra queer, though –“

“So the opposite of me?”

We turned around and Harry was rolling his eyes, sneaking in with the Alliance members and walking up to hug me.

“How’d your little club go?” he grinned.

“Good!” Neville beamed.

“It was just a general meeting, so a nice gathering of all the queers together in one happy family,” I giggled.

“Ah yes,” Harry chortled, “So who’s the ultra queer evolutionary communist?”

“Isn’t it Ernie? Didn’t we decide Ernie was the ultra queer because he’s trans _and_ gay?” I frowned.

“No, it’s _me_!” Ron shouted from across the room.

“YOU WANNA GO?! _”_ Ernie retorted.

“YOU THINK YOU CAN TAKE ME!?” Ron roared.

“Oh god,” Hermione moaned, holding her face in her hands.

“I think I should get the prize,” Parvati said matter-of-factly, “I’m nonbinary but I have no idea what yet, and pan. Clearly that makes me the ultra queer. Also, I’m going to shave the side of my head –“

“Oh no, mum will have a _fit_ ,” Padma groaned.

“It’s for the rebellion –“

“How?!”

“Just trust me, I have a whole plan –“

“Isn’t that what you said when you decided to sneak into Professor Trelawney’s office to try and steal some of her crystal balls for practice third year?” Lavendar snorted.

“No, no I did not – that was Siobhan –“

“What did I do?”

“You created an elaborate plan to steal crystal balls –“

“Oh _right_ – I was depressed remember –“

Parvati paused a long time, “Right, my bad.”

“It’s okay, he turned out to be a douche,” I offered, grimacing.

“Oh I know,” Siobhan sighed, “Which makes it worse… not that I don’t appreciate the sentiment.”

“Fair enough – I think Fred’s single?” I grimaced.

“Oh Merlin – thank you but no –“ Siobhan grimaced.

“I THINK I SHOULD GET TO FIGHT FOR THE ULTRA QUEER TITLE!” Seamus shouted at the top of his lungs – there was now a crowd of people arguing in a corner of the Room over this supposed title.

“YOU’RE _JUST GAY_?”

“I’M A PURIST!”

“That’s not how it works you wanker –“

“How’s this, I’m trans, _a woman_ , and polysexual and romantic, I win,” Maria giggled.

“A surprise contender comes in to the field!” Dean joked, resting his arm on top of Seamus’ had.

“ _Why_ must you flaunt your height in front of the vertically challenged – “

“Is that what we’re calling short people now?” Dean grinned down at him.

“I am not short!”

“Yeah you are –“

“Well I have a bigger penis than you!”

“WE DID NOT NEED TO KNOW THAT,” almost everyone in the room screamed at the top of their lungs.

“MY BRAIN NEEDS CLEANSING,” Padma cried, grimacing.

“Oh god, that image – no – no thank you –“ Astoria groaned.

“As a lesbian, I must insist that you apologize for that –“

“As a _person_ , I must insist that you apologize for that –“

“Seamus, you’re grounded –“

“Go to a corner –“

“And think about what you’ve done!”

Seamus grunted angrily and went to a corner of the Room, grumbling to himself. Dean was flustered and clearly embarrassed, looking away from nearly everyone.

“Besides, it’s not about size, it’s about how you use it,” Sally-Anne stated calmly into the silence.

Everyone burst into roars of laughter and began mingling again, Dean looking somewhat happier at that statement.

“And on that cheerful note,” Harry snorted.

“Didn’t Ginny say she invited _everyone_ with some sort of strange emphasis on that word?” Hermione grinned.

“Who else could she have _possibly_ invited? The whole DA’s here,” Neville stated, looking around wildly.

“Not everyone!”

I turned around in shock to see Angelina, Alicia, Cedric, Lee, and Fred all standing there, waving awkwardly.

“Oh my gosh!” Hermione gasped, running and hugging Fred.

“Hey,” he greeted weakly, smiling at her awkwardly. Hermione composed herself and flushed madly.

“Sorry just – it’s been ages since we’ve seen you all –“

“Yeah, last we saw you you were getting chased out of the castle,” Angelina laughed.

“You seem better,” I beamed, flushing despite myself. I couldn’t help it, I found her attractive even now. It was hard to forget the girl that made you realize you were decidedly _not_ straight.

“Been visiting Shae fairly regularly,” Angelina admitted.

“My god, is there anyone who isn’t seeing her?” Harry laughed, “Her or Dr. Wilson.”

“I don’t think so, not from our year,” Cedric shrugged.

“How’s playing for Scotland?” Harry grinned at his former rival.

“Good – really good – glad Cho’s dad got me that position – where is she, anyway –“ Cedric frowned, looking around the room wildly.

“Where’s Katie, for that matter?” Alicia grinned.

“Alicia!” Katie cheered, and suddenly two very different looking Chinese girls were running towards Alicia and Cedric, throwing themselves at them happily.

“You shaved your head,” Cho said accusingly, patting Cedric’s shiny dark head.

“The afro was growing in patches –“

“Ha!” Alicia giggled, and Katie happily played with Alicia’s poof, covering Alicia’s face in kisses.

“And it was getting annoying for proper aerodynamic maneuverability –“

“You did just fine at Hogwarts!”

“In case you didn’t notice, I only beat Harry by a fluke!”

“Oh please –“

“How’d you get them all to come?” I asked Ginny, beaming as Lee started chatting happily with Siobhan.

“Honestly it wasn’t hard – they weren’t busy, miraculously, and all missed everyone,” Ginny beamed, “We’re only missing Zacharias and Marietta, but they basically left the DA after we ran away anyway –“

“And George,” I stated simply. Ginny glowered and grimaced at the same time.

“It’s true,” I shrugged, “We’re missing George. Just because we kicked him out doesn’t mean he wasn’t a member.”

“I didn’t want to invite him. He’s not made up for it yet, not to me – and I’m sure not to you,” Ginny grumbled.

“Of course not!” I reassured, “I’m just saying –“

“I know –“

“Come on, let’s dance,” Neville rolled his eyes, pulling me away from the circular argument and spinning me about in a circle. I laughed and wrapped my arms tightly around him, holding him to me and giggling happily. I was feeling much better after therapy and extreme socialization in Alliance and at the beginning of the party – it was so nice to start to feel better so quickly after a breakdown –

“Harry, if you don’t dance with Hermione, I’m going to hit you,” Neville stated in a hiss as we passed him in our twirling.

“Bloody hell – “

“This has been a message from your conscience,” I grinned as we danced away. Harry flicked me off as we moved and Neville and I laughed in unison, continuing to dance and twirl together happily amongst other couples. Well, most other couples were dancing. Alicia and Katie were literally making out in the middle of the dance floor.

“How… long has it been since you’ve seen each other?” Nadia asked, smirking.

“Three months?” Katie asked, frowning at Alicia.

“I was hired by Puddlemore United and was traveling in August, so yes,” Alicia sighed.

“I feel like I should designate a make out corner,” Ginny giggled, pulling away from Nadia, “Hold on –“

“Oh god, put it as far away from me as possible,” Luna grimaced.

“Same!” Ron nodded.

“I’ll put it behind a damn curtain, you dorks,” Ginny rolled her eyes.

“Ah the Room of Requirement, able to provide dork-proof curtains since 1994,” I giggled.

“How would _you_ know if they’re dork proof?” Ginny grinned.

“Oi!” I laughed.

“Crap, it’ll be Alicia proof too, then,” Katie grinned.

“Alicia’s not a dork –“ Ginny rolled her eyes.

“Oh I decidedly am, you do not know me well enough at all,” Alicia laughed.

“Compared to Maggie you are _not_ a dork –“

“Oh god, here, I’ll start the tests,” Neville sniggered.

“Okay that statement just means you’re the _king_ dork and if I actually make these curtains with the room you’ll be propelled from it,” Ginny roared with laughter.

“I am _not_ the king dork, I am a _scientist_!”

“Oh god, it’s just getting worse –“

“You’re my dork, don’t worry,” I beamed at him, pulling him in for a long kiss. Neville sighed happily and everyone groaned louder around us.

“Good to know that hasn’t changed at all,” Alicia snorted.

“Maggie and Neville will never change, let’s be real. They acted like a couple when they were eleven and now they haven’t even reached their final form,” Katie laughed.

“Okay, what’s our final form?” I asked, laughing louder.

“I legitimately dread the day when you two have children and are cooing over them in a ridiculous manner. I honestly hope I’m not there to see it,” Katie grimaced.

“Dude!” Neville laughed.

“Oh that’ll be adorable, the cuteness of the little mixed babies will make up for it!” Alicia laughed.

“I’m with Alicia on this one,” Ginny nodded firmly, “No, the grossest they’ll be will be their _wedding_.”

“Who says we’re getting married?” we said in unison.

“Societal pressures,” Ginny shrugged.

“Legal protections,” Alicia nodded.

“Legitimacy in the eyes of basically everyone –“ Katie sighed.

“We’re not bitter that same-sex marriage isn’t legal,” Alicia clarified.

“Not at all,” Katie rolled her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” I frowned.

“It’s just such an… _icky_ … institution,” Neville sighed.

“But you have fair points,” I finished, grimacing apologetically.

“Oh it’s definitely icky – you’re basically transferring the ownership of the woman involved from her father to her new husband,” Ginny snorted.

“But we’re picking our battles and we’d just like to make sure that if one of us is stuck dying in a hospital, the other can visit them,” Alicia shrugged.

“Fair point,” I agreed.

“And probably why we’d get married, too,” Neville nodded. We looked at each other for a minute, flushing madly.

“We haven’t really discussed it,” I amended.

“You’re kidding,” Ginny frowned.

“I’d have thought you’d planned your whole future by now –“ Alicia agreed.

“We’ve planned a little,” I shrugged, flushing.

“Mostly what we’ve planned are some science things we want to do together and that we _want_ kids,” Neville grinned at me. I grinned back, wiggling slightly with happiness at the thought.

“Oh god, you’re going to have the next Weasley family aren’t you,” Ginny groaned, holding her face in her hands.

“It’s probable,” I admitted.

“Probably more – dragon people – Riders and Halflings – basically have litters. Like dragons,” Neville was grinning so widely I thought his face would burst, “No fewer than two babies at a time and usually like, six.”

Ginny looked back and froth from me to Neville in alarm, “Are you… alright with that?”

“Yes,” I laughed, “Don’t worry, I’m mentally prepared for this.”

“Good thing you have lots of aunts and uncles and others to help babysit,” Vanessa grinned, walking up behind Ginny and beaming, Astoria following her and rolling her eyes.

“Yes, an infinite quantity, provide we all live through the war,” Astoria reminded.

“Always so negative!” Vanessa giggled.

“There’s a literal war going on about our heads –“

“Okay, let’s take a chill pill,” Claire ran up, grabbing them both, “And stop bothering the adults –“

“Claire, in case you haven’t noticed, we’ve had to grow up faster than they did – oh bloody hell –“ Elena groaned, covering her face in her hands and following the three quickly.

“What is happening?” I asked Neville, laughing.

“Chaos, I guess?” Neville offered, “I don’t bloody know –“

“A large group of friends is all in one room together, having fun and enjoying life!” Ginny cheered, wrapping her arms around our shoulders, “Just what we all need right now, don’t you think?”

“Oh yes,” I admitted.

“I’m proud of you all for what you’ve been doing with this whole rebellion thing, though,” Alicia interjected, grinning.

“Oh it’s been bloody brilliant to watch!” Lee cheered, running up to us, “Any way we can all help out from afar?”

“Come to meetings, cheer us on – if you have anything to contribute, _please_ go ahead,” I nodded.

“Er – Umbridge made me cut off my dreads because she’s a racist bitch?” Lee offered.

“That’s a good one,” Neville grimaced.

“Okay, was she not prejudiced in… _any_ way?” I groaned.

“I’ll get back to you on that,” Lee sighed.

“Good thing she’s in Azkaban?” Katie offered.

“For now,” I scowled.

“People tend to _escape_ from Azkaban,” Neville agreed.

“Well, for now,” Alicia nodded.

The others turned to talk to each other and I turned back to Neville.

“Shall we find Harry and nag him again?” I asked.

“We shall!” Neville agreed, beaming. We walked hand-in-hand through the crowd, past Chris, Ada and Asgar all arguing about musical choices – Chris wanted American country music of _all things_ – past Maria and Ron continuing to argue, quite drunk now, about who was the ultra queer – past Ernie and Sam playing darts and laughing with each other, also apparently drunk, which was worrisome, given the whole darts thing – and past Kim, Sally-Anne, Cho, and Cedric building a very elaborate tower of cards with an exploding snap deck. This corner of the room was eerily quiet as they tried to build it, Cedric’s dark, brown head gleaming with sweat all over now that he was bald.

“You’re not going to let down generations of slave ancestors if you don’t get it right, Ced –“ Cho giggled.

“IF YOU BREAK MY CONCENTRATION, WOMAN, I WILL –“

“What now?!”

“I will apologize for calling you ‘woman’ while I’m trying so hard to do something so silly –“

“Maggie, I see you watching us, if you blow this down, we’re coming for you!” Sally-Anne snapped. I laughed and scurried along with Neville, who was giggling, trying desperately to find Harry.

We finally found him in a corner, talking with Terry quietly.

“What’s up?” Terry beamed, looking at us.

“What are you talking about?” Neville asked, smirking.

“Beard growth,” Terry answered simply, “Harry wanted tips –“

“I did _not_ ,” Harry hissed.

“Yes you did, no shame in that –“ Terry patted him on the shoulder.

“Look, we established that your epic beard is because you’re from _Egypt_ , can we now move on –“ Harry groaned.

“We’re here to be Harry’s conscience, if you don’t mind, Terry,” Neville laughed.

“Oh, oh dear, sorry – good luck with _that_ task,” Terry grimaced, quickly scurrying away.

“Oh my god,” Harry moaned.

“You know what you should be doing right now?” Neville and I asked in unison.

“Don’t say it –“

“Asking Hermione to dance!” we finished.

“I’m going to bloody murder the both of you – and I haven’t seen her anywhere, otherwise I would havee actually,” Harry muttered.

“Weird… I haven’t seen her either,” Neville frowned.

I looked around wildly, shouting, “Hermione?”

Still, she didn’t show up. I looked at Neville and he shrugged in pure bemusement.

“HERMIONE?!” I screamed at the top of my lungs as Harry groaned in pure embarrassment, holding his face in his hands.

“What?!”

I turned to see Hermione running towards us, looking flustered.

“Well? What?!” she demanded, and she looked so furious I was instantly scared for my life.

“Er –“ Neville grimaced.

“Um –“ I repeated.

“What was _so urgent_ that you couldn’t control your volume?” Hermione hissed.

“Mione, you forgot your hair loop thing,” Fred came running over, holding a hair tie in his hand.

“It’s a hair tie, Fred,” Hermione sighed.

“Right, that thing – you left it – here,” Fred offered.

“Left it where?” Harry asked, frowning.

“Er – just – where we were when you all called her,” Fred muttered, looking sheepish.

“And where was _that_?” Harry demanded.

“Harry, calm down,” Hermione rolled her eyes, “It’s none of your business.”

“Why can’t you just _tell_ us?” Harry shouted.

“Harry, calm down,” I murmured, “Your –“

“I don’t give a _shite_ if this is my BPD talking! What the hell, Hermione?!”

“Why do you _care_ so much?” Hermione snapped furiously.

“Why can’t you just fucking tell us?!”

“We were in the snogging corner, alright? Happy now?” Hermione screeched. The entire party had gone silent, apart from the exploding snap card tower, which had fallen over and exploded in the faces of the architects, soot covering all of them, but they didn’t seem to care – their mouths were open wide same as the rest of us.

“You – you what?!” Harry gasped.

“We were snogging! Like people often do at parties!” Hermione repeated defiantly.

“WHAT?!” Harry screeched.

“Yes! We were! Bloody hell, why do you _care_?” Hermione demanded. Fred was blushing madly, looking away from everyone in embarrassment.

“Why do I – why would you – what the hell, Hermione? _You_ ditched _him_!” Harry roared.

“Yes, because I was falsely equating him with his brother, which was very unfair of me!” Hermione flushed madly.

“Are you two back together now or something?!” Harry screamed, looking like someone had just stabbed him in the chest.

“What? No, we were just –“

“Bloody hell, Hermione, just snogging your ex at a party, how is this you? What the fuck?” Harry roared.

“I was just looking for some fucking affection, which I can’t seem to get anywhere else, you wanker!” she screamed at him, “You’re an oblivious asshat and I don’t have to take you screaming at me, BPD or no BPD!” Hermione then turned on her heels, leaving the party completely stunned. Harry stood there, panting, his chest heaving with emotion.

“Mate, I’m sorry, I – Hermione asked me to talk and after a while she basically jumped me, I – I didn’t say no because I’m – I’ve been in a bad place lately and – I’m sorry,” Fred whispered, looking horrified.

“Why are you sorry?” Harry snapped, obviously trying to calm down, “Whatever.”

“I’m sorry because you were obviously very upset about it,” Fred mumbled.

“Whatever, doesn’t matter,” Harry scowled, and he left the room angrily, slamming the door to the Room behind him. Fred looked absolutely horrified, and quickly left too, basically running from the room.

I looked at Neville in shock and he looked back at me, and we were so overwhelmed with amazement that we didn’t say a word the rest of the evening. Very few people did, actually – soon enough the party ended, practically before it had been allowed to begin. Everyone packed up and left quietly, thanking Ginny, but I knew that wouldn’t be the last we heard of that.

I really, really, _really hoped_ Harry and Hermione would just _fucking talk_ soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heheheheh... heh... SORRY. Look, did you really think it would be that easy?! But I ABSOLUTELY PROMISE That Harmony will happen BEFORE THE END OF 1996. I promise, I swear on so many things I hold dear, okay?! But Hermione had lost hope that she and Harry would ever happen and she turned for comfort to the one person she liked besides him - I honestly don't blame her! Dammit Harry, why you gotta be so problematic.
> 
> Happy... one hundredth... chapter?
> 
> Please comment! Thanks!!!


	102. Chapter One Hundred and One: October 26 - 27, 1996, Leeds and Glasgow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "If you feel so empty  
> So used up, so let down  
> If you feel so angry  
> So ripped off so stepped on  
> You're not the only one  
> Refusing to back down  
> You're not the only one  
> So get up 
> 
> Let's start a riot, a riot  
> Let's start a riot  
> Let's start a riot, a riot  
> Let's start a riot 
> 
> If you feel so filthy  
> So dirty so fucked up  
> If you feel so walked on  
> So painful so pissed off  
> You're not the only one  
> Refusing to go down  
> You're not the only one  
> So get up."  
> ~ Three Days Grace, "Riot".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for mentions of genocide and war rape

Chapter 101: October 26 – 27, 1996, Leeds and Glasgow

To say that the atmosphere on the Boltmobile the next day was tense would be the understatement of the century. Hermione sat on the front end of the bus, and Harry at the back end, and literally no one said a word.

“So in Leeds Valerie and Claire will be speaking about the Rwandan genocide,” Hermione stated calmly as we started to drive up to the town. She clearly looked like she had been crying the whole night, “And then in Glasgow Maggie and Kat will talk about in-Ministry corruption…”

“What left is there to say about that?” Chris asked curiously.

“Er, hiring practices, hierarchy based on blood within the Ministry, that sort of thing –“

“Where are we speaking in both? Will it be safe?” Sally-Anne demanded.

“In Leeds we’ll be in a pub – they only have a pub for Wixen – and it’ll be well guarded by Order members,” Hermione reassured, “In Glasgow sadly we’ll be in a wixen street again – but more Order members are going to come and patrol and stuff.”

“Where will we be sleeping?” Katie asked worriedly.

“In the bus again – I know, I’m sorry,” Hermione responded to the chorus of groans, “but it’s the safest option. We have so many concealment charms on it, no one but us is ever going to find it.”

Everyone returned to silent sitting on the bus, and I curled up under Neville’s arm quietly. We exchanged looks of extreme guilt – after all, we had bullied Harry into confronting Hermione in the first place – and snuggled together the rest of the ride, not really willing to talk much about the issue whatsoever.

We drove in to Leeds slowly, the atmosphere still tense on the bus as we all piled off of it, Lupin and Sirius following behind us stoically. Tonks and Shae, who had obviously apparated over, quickly walked up to us and flanked the group, looking around wildly for signs of danger.

The surprising thing was, that the tense atmosphere remained even once we had gotten into the pub. Everyone was staring at us, and the crowd was, for the first time, mostly people with lightening bolts on their foreheads already – many newcomers were there, but they appeared to be painting on the bolts already, anger in their faces as they all stood there. It was such a stark contrast from the doubt and hostility _against_ us in Dublin that I felt a swooping sensation infect my stomach.

“Er – I dunno how you both want to do this,” Hermione whispered at Claire and Valerie.

“I’ll start,” Claire muttered, “We have it all planned out.”

“Alright, good luck,” Hermione sighed deeply as Claire and Valerie went up and took the stage. Valerie nodded at Claire, and Hermione amplified her voice, and Claire stepped up to the front of the stage.

“Hello everyone. You might recognize me as one of the twelve – I’m Claire,” Claire began, swallowing, “And this is my older sister, Valerie.”

“You may not think we are sisters, given how different we look,” Valerie continued, sighing, “But we are – our mum is Irish, and our dad is not.”

“Our dad comes from a country in Africa called Rwanda,” Claire furthered, biting her lip nervously, “A country with a terrible, long history.”

“Long ago there were three ethnicities in Rwanda – the Hutu, the Tutsi, and the Twa,” Valerie explained, “The Tutsi and the Hutu both migrated in; the Twa lived there a long time. The Hutu framed the land, and the Tutsi herded cattle. After centuries of this, eventually, the Tutsi headed the country, forming the Kingdom of Rwanda, with the ruling clan being the Nyiginya clan. It expanded using conquest and assimilation, and King Kigeli Rwabugiri enforced class divides and economic divides between the Hutu and the Tutsi peoples.”

“The Europeans came then,” Claire sighed, “Germany took control of the territory and ruled through the already existing Rwandan monarchy, using them as a sort of puppet government. And they thought that the Tutsi were somehow… more white… than the Hutu, and were happy to keep them in power.”

“When Germany lost World War I, Belgium took over, taking over Rwanda and Burundi. They made Rwanda more like their colony in the Congo, concentrating rule in the hands of the Tutsi, and took away Hutu grazing areas and barely compensated them. The country modernized, and Tutsi rule prevailed, and the Hutu were disenfranchised and were subjected to large scale forced labor. In the thirties, people were given identity cards to identify their race. You could no longer become honorary Tutsi if you were Hutu. The Catholic church became dominant in the area… and tensions were high,” Valerie furthered.

“After World War II, Europe began decolonizing for two reasons,” Claire scowled, “Reason one – money. They couldn’t afford to keep colonies after the devastation of the war.”

“Reason two – morality, surprisingly enough, “ Valerie laughed humorlessly, “Though I’m sure that wasn’t the main reason –“

“World War II was fought to keep Hitler from, basically, colonizing Europe,” Claire shook her head slowly, “How would it look if they kept colonizing _everywhere else_?”

“Catholic missionaries aided Hutu on trying to emancipate themselves and Rwanda. They empowered the Hutu, forming a sizeable Hutu clergy and educated group to counterbalance the political structure. Tutsi also began demanding independence, worried that if the Hutu gained it, they would be persecuted,” Valerie explained.

“In 1959, a Hutu leader, Dominique Mbonyumutwa, was attacked by a pro-Tutsi group. He lived, but people believed he’d died – Hutu began killing Tutsi, which started the Rwandan Revolution. Tutsi attacked the Hutu on their own, but the Belgians backed the Hutu, wanting to overthrow the Tutsi elite. In 1960, the Belgians replaced most Tutsi chiefs with Hutu and organized elections that had overwhelming Hutu majorities. The King was deposed and a republic was made, and the country was finally free in 1962,” Claire whispered, looking horrified, knowing where the story was going to go.

The crowd was silent, listening to every word with baited breath; many looked angry, others afraid. All looked to be on our side – I didn’t see a single unpainted forehead in the room.

“Tutsi began to leave the country to escape the purges of the Hutu, living in Burundi, Uganda, Tanzania, and Zaire – now the Democratic Republic of the Congo. Rwanda is such a small country… yet so heavily populated…” Valerie took a heavy, shaking breath.

“They were thought of as refugees, and wished to return to Rwanda,” Claire continued, “They formed armed groups that tried to attack Rwanda that were unsuccessful – and more Tutsi were killed…”

“In 1973 there was a coup, and President Juvenal Habyarimana came to power, and things were peaceful for a short time… but the population kept growing. Rwanda soon had the one of the highest population densities in Africa… competition for space and resources were high, and thus, so was tension,” Valerie murmured.

“In the 1980s, there was a Civil War,” Claire sighed, “A group of Rwandan refugees in Uganda served in the arm and began planning an invasion, and Fred Rwigyema lead a force of rebels from Uganda, advancing into Rwanda under the name of the Rwandan Patriotic Front. Rwigyema was soon killed and France and the Congo soon deployed forces to help Rwanda, letting them hualt the invasion. Paul Kagame took control of the RPF and the army hid out in the Virunga Mountains, regrouping and recruiting for the army. The war then restarted in 1991, attacking and waging guerrilla warfare, before having a ceasefire in 1992 and beginning to negotiate with the Rwandan government.”

“The Hutu weren’t happy with this,” Valerie shivered, “In 1993, they began having organized violence against the Tutsi. The RPF stopped the peace talks and attacked the country again, before pace talks resumed. The RPF became a Transitional Government, but that certainly was not the end. Even though there was reduced violence against the Tutsi in the 70s under Habyarimana, many anti Tutsi feelings remained, and those tensions were played upon when the RPF invaded in 1990. The anti-Tutsi agenda was named Hutu Power, and propaganda was published throughout the country, including the Hutu Ten Commandments, which was a list of guidelines for Hutu Power…”

“Every Tutsi woman works for the interest of her Tutsi ethnic group. Any Hutu who marries a Tutsi woman, or befriends her, or employs her as a secretary or concubine has betrayed the Hutu,” Claire began.

“Hutu women are more conscientious and suitable as women, wives and mothers – they are more beautiful, good and honest,” Valerie swallowed.

“Hutu women are vigilant and are to stop Hutu men from falling for Tutsi women,” Claire shivered.

“Every Tutsi is dishonest in business. They only want to be supreme over the Hutu. So any Hutu who makes a partnership with Tutsi in business, invests money in Tutsi business, lends or borrows from the Tutsi, or gives favors to a Tutsi in business is a traitor,” Valerie sighed.

“All political, administrative, economic, military, and security positions can only be entrusted to Hutu,” Claire continued.

“Our educators and students must be Hutu,” Valerie laughed humorlessly.

“The Army must only be Hutu – the attack taught us a lesson – no military member can be Tutsi,” Claire scowled.

“The Hutu should not have mercy on the Tutsi,” Valerie was crying now.

“The Hutu must have unity and solidarity and look for allies against Tutsi, counteract Tutsi propaganda, and be firm and vigilant against the Tutsi,” Claire whispered in horror.

“Any Hutu who persecutes Hutu for believing in this is a traitor,” Valerie finished, sighing heavily.

“This set of rules created the Coalition for the Defence of the Republic Party, which was a violent party, dedicated to cracking down on the RPF,” Claire finally went back to the actual narrative, though the atmosphere was so heavy and tense and horrified that it didn’t matter much.

“Extremists plotted against the government – they were afraid a Tutsi would be allowed to participate in government. In 1992, many hardliners carried out campaigns of killing Tutsi in certain areas, culminating in the murder of 300 people in January of 1993. The RPF attacked due this, but this just made the extremists more sympathetic,” Valerie shook her head mournfully.

“The Hutu Power party pervaded every aspect o government, and a youth militia began carrying out massacres across the country. The army began arming civilians with weapons and training people in combat to fight the RPF. Large numbers of weapons were purchased for wide scale destruction, and the army grew rapidly, with poor discipline. Lists of Traitors were compiled, to be killed, and broadcast racist propaganda throughout the country,” Claire whispered hoarsely.

“The President of Burundi, who was Hutu, was assassinated by the Tutsi army officers in 1993. The anger against the Tutsi amongst the Hutu strengthened. The idea of a final solution became… legitimate. Heavy weaponry was given to many people. Tutsis were registered. The government was moving towards the final solution,” Valerie was crying heavily now.

“Habyarimana was assassinated on April 6, 1994, when his plane was shot down. We still don’t know who did it,” Claire gasped.

“The crisis committee decided to kill moderate leaders of the government, but the genocide started a few hours after Habyarimana’s death. Large groups of Hutu were gathered, the death of the president was announced, and they were ordered to begin killing the Tutsi, and spare no one – no woman, no man, no child, no infant. The population did this without question. Only areas under RPF control were spared,” Valerie whispered.

“Killings continued at high rates and up to 800,000 Rwandans were murdered in the first six weeks. No opposition was really there to stop the goal of killing every Tutsi in Rwanda,” Claire continued.

“In the country, the Hutu and the Tutsi families knew each other, and the killings were easy. In the cities, identification was required, and those with Tutsi cards were immediately slaughtered,” Valerie gasped.

“Many Hutu were killed for sympathy, being a journalist, or looking like a Tutsi,” Claire scowled, “Houses were searched, Tutsi were slaughtered, and property was stolen. In the country, most of the killers were civilians, and even if there wasn’t a culture of Tutsi hatred and obedience, they still would have done much killing – if they didn’t, they would be killed themselves for being Tutsi sympathizers.”

“They were murdered with machetes – giant blades – by the militia, though some used guns – metal wands muggles uses to murder each other very effectively. People hiding in churches and schools were found and massacred. A Catholic church was bulldozed and fleeing people murdered on the spot,” Valerie whispered.

“Some people managed to hide Tutsi, but it wasn’t enough,” Claire swallowed.

“There was extreme sexual violence exerted on Tutsi women, and many army members and civilians raped Tutsi women in extreme numbers, as well as moderate Hutu women. Rape was used everywhere, rapidly, and against anyone and everyone who was seen as an enemy of Hutu power. It was systematic,” Valerie shook her head slowly, “People would stand by and watch, and women would be forced to work in between repeated rapes.”

“This spread HIV, a very deadly virus that is passed from person to person via things like sex, and many people who had it were released from hospitals and ordered to rape people – called rape squads – to pass on the disease and cause a slow, painful death of Tutsi women. Tutsi women were sexually mutilated so they couldn’t reproduce, and men also had their genitals mutilated,” Claire whispered, her voice shaking.

“The RPF managed to stop it in April in certain areas, many Hutu fled, fearing retribution for what they had done,” Valerie and Claire scowled together, looking frightfully alike – just different colors.

“But killing continued in other places, though they were sporadic and low-key – there were few Tutsi left and the country was in anarchy, and the government needed to fight the RPF. In June, the French came in, but while the genocidal leaders welcomed them, they killed any Tutsi who came out seeking protection,” Claire shivered.

“In July, the RPF finally conquered the country except the parts occupied the French, and the genocide was over after they finished their conquest,” Valerie sighed.

“Estimates place the death toll at about a million,” Claire continued. “Only about 300,000 Tutsi survived the genocide.”

“Many of the survivors had HIV, and there were many orphans who had to become heads of families,” Valerie gasped.

“Our dad fled in the 70s, seeing the writing on the wall well ahead of time,” Claire brought everyone back to their story, and it was _jarring_ , sending chills up my spine.

“Forty percent of Tutsi population are wizards and witches,” Valerie stated calmly, “In sub-Saharan Africa, many populations have significantly higher numbers of witches and wizards than in Europe.”

“In Europe wizards and witches are more concerned with blood purity, and marry within pureblood families,” Claire rolled her eyes, “Meaning the frequency is greater reduced than in other racial groups – like Africans – who care little for that, and more for _producing healthy children._ ”

“The wixen population of Rwanda was mostly Tutsi, mostly halfblood – or in the eyes of many blood purists here, _less_ , when they were the child of a halfblood and a muggle – and mostly denied access to European countries,” Valerie shivered.

“Few people escaped or were allowed refuge, and Europe did not want to help – even though the signs of this happening were, as we described, frequent and horrifying,” Claire sighed.

“More than three hundred thousand wizards and witches were killed in the genocide,” Valerie swallowed, “And it’s been thought – it’s ben thought that much of the violence – was wixen related. That the Hutu knew there was something off about the Tutsi – with their high wixen numbers, it was hard to hide magic – and it contributed to anti-Tutsi sentiment.”

“Did the Ministry not help because they were racist? Because they were blood-purists? Or because they were more concerned with prepping for a World Cup and persecuting an innocent man – Sirius Black – than they were for their brothers and sisters in Rwanda?” Claire asked shrewdly, “All three, I think – “

“Make no mistake – they are your brothers and sisters. We are all brothers and sisters and other siblings. Poverty, violence, and genocide – these are not _their_ problems. They are _our_ problems,” Valerie nodded.

“Only about three hundred thousand wixen were left in Rwanda following the genocide – one hundred Hutu wixen, two hundred Tutsi wixen. More Tutsi wixen than muggles were able to protect themselves due to magic… and then were tried by the International Confederation of Wizards for breaking the International Statute of Secrecy, and huge penalties were placed upon Rwanda in one of its most economically terrible times,” Claire growled.

“Because their deaths and terror were not seen as _our_ deaths and terror, when they _were_ ,” Valerie sighed, “The whole world is at fault for what happened in Rwanda – the muggles did nothing, the wixen did nothing, even though they all could, the writing was on the wall in blood.

“We are all one people. Now more than ever, we are a global population. Muggles, wixen, those divisions don’t matter – Black, white, those divisions don’t matter – African, European, those divisions don’t matter – poor, rich, those divisions don’t matter – not when it comes to taking care of each other. We are one human family, and we have to act like it. We can never, _ever_ , let this happen again,” Claire hissed.

“The government was complacent. It’s not your fault you didn’t help or even know – how could you have? The Ministry keeps you in the dark on muggle news, and they certainly weren’t reporting on this,” Valerie laughed humorlessly.

“They _prevented_ you from helping to keep the Rwandans as an ‘other’ – black, poor and less pure of blood than us – they were other to the Ministry – and not worth helping,” Claire whispered, “And now they’re weakened, there’s fewer of them, and they’re sick – and still not being helped.”

“The Ministry’s horrors extends beyond us, and we have to recognize that – we have to acknowledge that – and we have to stop being isolationist. We are a global community, and we must act like it,” Valerie finished passionately, glaring out into the crowd, “Thank you.”

The silence hung over the crowd for a long time before everyone exploded in an uproar of horror and anger and fear. All of the DA watched in shock as the spectators began shouting and clamoring with one another and one man stood up on a table – he was black, with scars all over his face and a bright red lightening bolt painted on his forehead, showing in great relief.

“TO DIAGON ALLEY! CONTACT OTHERS – WE CANNOT STAY SILENT ANY LONGER!” he shouted. The others cheered with him and people began running out into the street, causing absolute pandemonium.

“Holy fucking shit,” Claire gasped, her mouth dropping open.

“What the – what’s happening?” Shae asked, following the crowd quickly.

“This is it,” Hermione breathed.

“What are they going to _do?_ ” I asked in amazement as we all followed Shae, running into the street and watching as the wixen crowd apparated together in large numbers, seemingly organizing themselves –

“I’ll to London – come with me!”

“Quick, to Dublin – they’re against us there –“

“Who’s with me to Edinburgh? We have allies there who can help –“

“Birmingham, lads – come quick – “

“Cork has more sympathies than Dublin – we shall apparate together –“

“You all know the drill – go! Go!” the black man from before ordered, shouting at everyone. They apparated in droves and Shae ran up to the man angrily.

“What is going on?” she demanded.

“We are beginning the revolution the Teenager’s Rebellion called for – or is that not what you want?” he laughed humorlessly.

“I – “ Shae was speechless.

“Are you one of the dragon ones?” the man asked.

“Yes,” Shae nodded weakly.

“Welcome,” he held out his hand and clasped Shae’s strongly, “Do not be afraid. We’ve been prepping heavily since Hermione was nearly killed.”

“What’s your name?” Hermione asked breathlessly.

“Pacifique – I am from Rwanda and I fled in the 80s, as a teenager, with my family,” he nodded, “I have supported your rebellion since you came to London – we were planning this whole week and agreed as many of us as possible should come to Leeds and go to London – and when I heard what was said – I knew it must be more than that. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me,” Hermione shook her head, “Thank Claire and Valerie.”

Claire and Valerie flushed madly. Pacifique smiled at them grimly.

“You have done good things,” he reassured, “Do not be afraid, even if some come after you. I must join forces in London.” He then apparated with a crack in the middle of the muggle street, but few people noticed – it was crowded as all hell.

I spun on my heels and stared at Neville in shock and awe.

“I don’t know what’s happening – “ he whispered, his mouth open slightly.

“We’re going to go investigate – holy hell,” Shae groaned, “Sirius, take the kids back to the bus. The three of us will go investigate various cities –“

“Can do – everyone, move, _now_ ,” Sirius insisted.

We ran as a group through Leeds, people shouting at us as we did so, and I was shaking from head to foot, expecting Death Eaters or Ministry people to appear at any second as we all clambered onto the bus. I collapsed into my seat and began panting, shaking from head to foot with a full on panic attack.

“We didn’t mean to do that!” Claire shouted in fear.

“We just wanted to bring awareness –“ Valerie agreed.

“Are you kidding?” Ernie shouted, “That was _brilliant!_ ”

“The people are angry and it’s coming out now, you can’t stop it,” Terry nodded in agreement.

“Don’t even _try_ to stop it,” Nadia grinned.

“We’re afraid, but we _should_ be,” Pete said wisely, “That’s what we’re trying to do – we’re trying to burn this motherfucker down.”

“Pete, every time you swear it’s just a _delight_ ,” Ernie grinned, clapping him on the shoulder.

“I try –“

“Are they fighting? Is this an army? There are other concerns,” Valerie reminded.

“It’s up to them – we have not called for armed rebellion, that much is true,” Neville murmured.

“The Ministry is going to blame us for this – they’re going to come after us,” Elena whispered in fear.

“And then what? They can’t do much to us without inciting a full on _army_ attacking them, did you see what just happened?” Harry shouted, “Elena, if they attack us, Pacifique – and all of them – they’ll burn the Ministry down – and they _have_ to know this –“

“Oh my god –“

“What do we do? Do we go on to Glasgow?”

“I dare say –“

“Now more than ever we have to keep this going –“

“I wonder what’s happening everywhere –“

“Did you see how _angry_ they all were –“

“This is what happens when a people are given a voice –“

“And we’re giving a voice to _all_ of them –“

“No problem’s been left out, we’re looking at the intersectionality of it all, how all these problems coalesce rather than just specifying one of them, and when you do, it’s worse –“

“So people are more angry than ever –“

“We can’t lose that – we can’t let it get narrowed down to one problem – we have to keep momentum going on all fronts or else we lose what makes this _viable_ –“

“Of course –“

“We’ll keep having speeches –“

“Oh god –“

“Things are going to _explode_ –“

“Haven’t they already?”

“Merlin –“

“Quiet, everyone!” Sirius roared as Shae, Lupin and Tonks ran back onto the bus. All looked _much_ more worse for wear since we left them – torn clothes, soot on faces, and tangled hair.

“It’s riots,” Shae panted.

“Everywhere,” Lupin agreed.

“They’re all rioting – all of them – it’s chaos in every city – breaking local wixen businesses, shouting about the cause – _everywhere_ –“ Tonks gasped.

“Worst in London, but everywhere’s bad – it’s a full scale uprising – and many people aren’t even fighting them, they’re joining in – people are _angry_ –“ Shae frowned.

“We shouldn’t go on tomorrow, we shouldn’t make this worse,” Lupin insisted.

“Don’t be mad,” Sirius shouted, “They have to keep it going and you _know_ it –“

“They’re right to be angry! A million people were killed only two years ago!” Hermione screeched.

“But the chaos is only going to help the Death Eaters –“

“And the Ministry sticking around would only do that, too!”

“Everyone, get some sleep,” Harry stated firmly, standing up and trying to look authoritative, “Look, we have an engagement in Glasgow – if we don’t go, they’ll think we’ve abandoned them, and we _can’t_ do that. We can discuss meeting frequency _after_ that.”

I tried to sleep curled up in Neville’s embrace, but I was too scared – too scared that the Ministry would find us and burn us to the ground, or worse. I turned from spooning him to face him, and found him awake too – his eyes open and wide in the dim moonlight. We stared at each other the rest of the night, gripping each other tightly in fear, unable to do much else.

And so the next day we drove in solemn, scared silence to Glasgow – a completely different sort of silence than the day before, though Harry and Hermione were still on opposite sides of the bus. We got there relatively quickly and quickly ran off to the street, more Order members greeting us when we got there – _loads_ more.

“Mum!” Ginny gasped, running to Mrs. Weasley and hugging her. Fred was there too, and specifically didn’t interact with Hermione or Harry, just happy to hug Ginny. Cedric was back, too, as were Alicia, Angelina, and Lee – all of whom had joined the Order. Moody was there, as were Valerie and Claire’s parents, Jean Pierre and Aida. Charlie and Bill Weasley were also present, as was Augusta Longbottom, who specifically ignored Neville, and he specifically ignored her. My grandparents were there, and I ran to them quickly, holding both of them as they held me and cried.

“I’m sorry Dad is dead – I’m so sorry – “ I gasped before I could stop myself as Elena and Harry quickly joined us.

“It’s alright – he did protecting you, and what a noble goal that is,” Gran smiled weakly.

“And now we’ll make sure he didn’t die in vain,” Gramps nodded.

“I hear you’ve made a little flock of raptors, well done,” Gran beamed.

“I try,” I whispered.

“And you’ve all been so brave – and inspiring,” Gramps smiled a watery smile, “We’re so proud to call you all our grandchildren.”

Harry burst into tears and Gramps held him tightly, as I sniffled and smiled weakly at the sight.

“Where’s that Neville who has decided to steal your heart already?” Gran asked cheekily, smiling somewhat.

“Oh yeah – Nev,” I called, waving him over. He walked over awkwardly, his hands stuffed in his pockets, clearly not talking to his Gran.

“Hello,” he greeted nervously.

“Good to meet you,” Gramps beamed, shaking his hand.

“Welcome to our… accident prone family,” Gran chuckled.

“Thanks,” Neville laughed weakly.

“What is that around your eyes, you two?” Gran frowned, pointing with her wand to our matching dark eyeliner.

“Uh –“ Neville flushed.

“Aesthetic?” I offered awkwardly.

“Kids never change,” Gramps rolled his eyes.

“Well let’s get to the street – oh I hope this doesn’t blow up –“ Gran groaned. Everyone started walking in a crowd, and I could feel myself start to shake again – I was going to speak. I had to speak.

Oh fuck, I had to speak.

I was shaking so madly Neville practically hugged me while walking, holding m so tightly I took a deep breath in relief, but I couldn’t stop shaking no matter what I did. Neville just calmly rubbed my shoulder, and we walked through to the wixen street, which was packed and rather cluttered – no – destroyed – from the rioting –

Kat ran up to me and looked at me in terror, and we held each other’s hands as we walked up to the front of the square, preparing ourselves mentally for what had to come next. Hermione looked at us and smiled in reassurance, but it was hard to be reassured when a Death Eater or a Ministry member could come and attack us or try and take us away at any moment –

So many Order members, but we were exposed out here –

Hermione waved her wand at us as we looked out at the crowd – most had lightening bolts. How many people had lightening bolts now? How many people were on our side?

How many were against?

I walked up to the front of a small makeshift stage and Kat followed me, and she was so skinny and short she looked like the smallest person on earth. I waved my wand on my neck to amplify my voice, and did so on her, and took a deep breath.

“Hello,” I whispered. Everyone watched me expectantly, no, _eagerly_ – I wasn’t surprised – I had a bit of a reputation for violence.

“Hello,” Kat also greeted, looking positively ill.

“We’re here to talk about corruption within the Ministry – not how they treat the people, but – but how they organize their government,” I whispered.

“It should… It should not come as a surprise to any of you that they do not organize their government in a fair an unbiased way,” Kat continued.

“Let’s start with the Wizengamot,” I stated calmly, “It’s the major legislative – meaning they make the laws – and judicial – meaning they punish people for breaking the laws – body. They do _both_.”

“Most muggle governments separate that, and they also separate the executive – meaning the person who carries out the laws – branch. We only separate the executive, the Minister – who… _also_ serves on the Wizengamot,” Kat scowled.

“About half of its members are democratically elected – once every six years or so,” I shrugged, “Pretty… normal. And we elect our Minister, of course.”

“But half of the members of the Wizengamot are from pureblood families – families designated into having their own spot on the bench, forever, in perpetuity,” Kat glowered.

“They have the same number of spots as elected officials… and the same amount of power,” I grumbled.

“Meaning that we don’t have a true democracy – we don’t have a voice in our government, in our laws – they do. All they have to do is agree, and since some of our elected members are pureblood, too –“

“Nothing they decide is really in the voice of our muggleborn and halfblood majority,” I sniggered, “But wait! It gets better!”

“The Ministry is just _littered_ with laws governing how people get promoted and advanced – and it’s all pretty much based on favors, blood status, and heritage,” Kat rolled her eyes.

“Purebloods _always_ get preference when it comes to getting hired – they are first pick. They also usually are the ones in our Minister election process – muggleborns rarely get past the extensive, pureblood-majority Wizengamot inspection process in order to get onto people’s ballots, and those that do, well! They’re moderates or puppets, people the Ministry knows they can control,” I snorted.

“She would know – her mum was a muggleborn who never got promoted until she was literally the only one left, but the best person in International relations anyone ever knew,” Kat sighed.

“She was constantly complaining about her work – about people not trusting her, not letting her do her job – and no wonder! When laws discriminating against her were literally written into the government,” I growled.

“Race was an issue, too – if you weren’t white, or born in Britain, you also had major limitations on what you were allowed to do,” Kat hissed.

“Kat’s mum was a low level member of the Department of Magical Maladies & Injuries her whole life, and finally quit to be a healer, where at least she could get a promotion,” I explained, “Because she wasn’t white. There were preference laws giving more promotion opportunities to pure blood, _British natural_ wixen.”

“And then there’s Mr. Weasley, who had muggle sympathies, so even though he was pureblooded and British – aka, white – never got promoted either,” Kat snorted.

“The corruption runs deep, and it allows the Ministry to make the laws necessary for all of the things we’ve talked about to be possible – laws against non-humans, laws against part humans, laws against all magical creatures –“

“Laws against muggleborns, halfbloods, non-whites, foreigners –“

“Laws against trans people and other not-straight not-cis gender individauls –“

“Laws against those who didn’t comply with their wishes –“

“Laws which wished to keep muggles disadvantaged and hidden, further treating them as ‘other’ from us to enforce the divide –“

“Laws just keeping wixen – especially pureblood wixen – especially pureblood, _white_ , not-queer wixen – on a pedestal, so that they’ll be happy and content and never, ever, _ever_ question _any of this_ –“

“It normalized this establishment and mentality, and then when Voldemort rose to power the first time – so many people actually _supported_ him –“

“And the violence against muggles and muggleborns was horrifying, and few people stopped it, and by the time Voldemort _was_ defeated, it was, by all accounts, a fluke – a fluke of love, to be sure, but a fluke –“

“A miracle saved us – _my brother_ saved us – but he can’t do it again alone. We all need to fight against Voldemort _and_ the Ministry, because they feed off each other – the Ministry is why Voldemort happened in the first place –“

“And Voldemort likes the Ministry and wants to keep it around because it supports what he supports, just in a more secretive manner –“

“The Ministry really has nothing to lose from Voldemort coming to power – just the pretense of being _representative_ – “

“Power concentrated into one branch of government, lead by blood-chosen elites – how is this democracy? It isn’t, and we’re coming upon the twenty-first century now – we live in an aristocracy, and it’s almost the twenty-first century –“

“It’s time the Ministry stopped being afraid of giving power to the people –“

“Because when it doesn’t, _this_ happens –“

“The people are disenfranchised and scared and have nothing to lose. We have nothing to lose. We’ve been trapped into a corner by Voldemort and the Ministry, and we have to chose – die at the hands of one of them, or fight. So we’re choosing to fight.”

“It’s no mistake that the teenagers who started it all come from the most oppressed of us – muggleborns, trans, nonbinary, queer, not-white, poor, mentally ill –“

“We started this _because we had no choice_. Umbridge – the Ministry – was invading our home – Hogwarts – a rare refuge, with little of these prejudices actually being in the minds of those in control –“

“And we had to. You think we’re too dark? Too queer? Too crazy? What _else_ would we be?!”

“And what else are you – those who follow us? The masses – each one of you has something to fight for. Each one of you has been backed into a corner. The Ministry was so obsessed with keeping you peaceful that they lied for a year about Voldemort being back – and put us all in danger by letting him grow stronger!”

“They knew it wouldn’t take much for a riot to break out – they knew they were breaking _all_ of us – and so they tried to avoid it for as long as possible –“

“Which just made it worse! The corner we are trapped in is tighter than ever – “

“So we must _fight_ , harder than ever –“

“And we need all of us – muggleborns, queer, people of color, mentally ill, poor, nonhuman – to band together,” I breathed, “We all need to work together.

“So are you with us?” Kat asked, shouting at the top of her lungs.

“YES,” the crowd replied in a scream.

“ARE YOU?!” I roared like a dragon, my voice hoarse with all the shouting from before.

“YES!!” everyone responded.

“THE MINISTRY WILL SILENCE US _NO LONGER!_ ” Kat screamed.

“WE ARE MORE THAN THEY, AND THEY CANNOT IGNORE US!” I furthered, unable to contain myself.

“THEY TORTURED US, AND DESTROYED US, AND BURNED OUR HOMES TO THE GROUND – WHETHER THE MINISTRY OR THE DEATH EATERS –“ Kat screeched.

“BUT WE HAVE BEEN ON FIRE AND LIKED IT!” I roared, “WE ARE FIRE, BURNING, AND WE WILL NOT BE QUELLED –“

“IF WE BURN, _YOU WILL BURN WITH US_ ,” Kat finished, and suddenly everyone started shouting and screaming with us, and Pacifique was there again, looking worse for wear since yesterday, but he held aloft his wand and lead a group of wixen away – shouting, “ _ON LONDON!_ ” at the top of his lungs.

I watched in amazement as the crowd disappeared and I had the strongest urge to join them.

“Order – half follow them – half bring the kids to safety!” Lupin shouted.

I shouted in protest but Lupin grabbed me by my shirt and pulled me along, looking terrified.

“Why in all of bloody hell are we letting you kids do this –“ he grunted as he lead the DA along back into muggle Glasgow.

“Because we aren’t kids, and never were allowed to be, and that’s the damn problem,” I grunted.

“Fine,” Lupin conceded.

Kat was panting with the effort of her shouting, and looked up at me in fear.

“Did we do something wrong?” she whispered.

“No,” I shook my head, “No – we did something _fantastically right_.”

Kat looked cheered at that, mumbling, “I’m never really sure.”

“You’re doing just fine,” I reassured. Kat smiled at me weakly as we reached the bus, and Neville took that moment to pull me in for a long kiss, holding to me tightly and refusing to let go.

“I was so scared they’d attack you –“

“I’m okay, Nev, I’m sorry –“

“No, it was _brilliant_ , exactly what you should have said, I just panicked for a minute –“

“I love you –“

“I love _you_ –“

“Everyone settle down and _sit_ down – somewhere – I don’t care, sit in laps if you want, it’s pandemonium anyway!” Sirius shouted.

“Not with your driving,” Susan laughed, and everyone laughed with her as Sirius grumbled angrily.

“Should we wait for the Order –“

“Argh, _fine_ ,” Sirius grumbled.

“The good news is, if they try and attack you, they’ll just make the riots worse,” Tonks stated calmly, leaning against the wall of the bus and snapping gum bubbles, “Went into work this morning, and that’s _all_ I heard. You kids are safe. The rioters? Not nearly as much. But you kids are.”

“Jesus,” I groaned.

“They knew what they were getting into,” Lupin reassured, “It’s exactly like you said – they were pushed into a corner, and they’re doing the only thing they can.”

I felt slightly safer – the Death Eaters wouldn’t be so afraid of the rioters, but I _did_ trust that the Ministry knew they were screwed if they came after us.

The door to the bus opened and Shae ran onto it, looking even more disheveled than yesterday – and she was covered in soot. I stood up in shock, staring at her as everyone grew silent. She stared back at me and visibly swallowed.

“The Ministry – they’re burning it.

They’ve torched the whole place.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wooo! Rioting! Appropriate Hunger Games references! Chaos! Sorry for the basic lesson on the Rwandan genocide. It was kind of extremely necessary for the plot, you know? Anyways, I REALLY REALLY REALLY need comments guys... I haven't been getting many at all the past few chapters, and I know that you don't always know what to say, but it really is just basic respect for the work I put into the story... thanks...


	103. Chapter One Hundred and Two: October 27 - 31, 1996, Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Blanket of silence  
> Makes me want to sink my teeth in deep  
> Burn all the evidence  
> Of fabricated disbelief 
> 
> Pull back the curtains  
> Took a look into your eyes  
> My tongue has now become  
> A platform for your lies 
> 
> I said you got me where you want me again  
> And I can't turn away  
> I'm hangin' by a thread and I'm feelin' like a fool  
> I'm stuck here in between  
> The shadows of my yesterday  
> I want to get away  
> I need to get away 
> 
> Now you know  
> Yeah you got my back against the wall  
> Oh god  
> I ain't got no other place to hide  
> Chained down  
> Like a sitting duck just waiting for the fall  
> You know  
> Yeah you got my back against the wall."  
> ~ Cage the Elephant, "Back Against the Wall."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for Gore and Violence

Chapter 102: October 27 – 31, 1996, Hogwarts

Muggles often say “it was like a bomb had gone off”.

I didn’t really know what that meant – I knew about their explosives, and that they made loud sounds. I even kind of knew what those sounds were like, from the movies and telly programs I had watched, but I had never really understood why that was an expression. It was just a loud sound.

But perhaps this was what they had meant in those shows.

Sound exploded in my ears – everyone was shouting in fear and confusion, and were running about the bus despite it having little to no room whatsoever. The sounds were loud and abrasive in my ears, and I fell to the ground clutching the external flaps of skin, groaning with the pain of all the people just _exploding_ with alarm around me.

Neville immediately fell to the ground with me and held me around the shoulders, but there were more pressing concerns than my pain. The adults were trying to calm everyone down, but I managed to pull myself back up to my feet and scream at the top of my lungs – oh how convenient being a dragon was –

“ _QUIET!_ ”

Everyone immediately shut up – it was as though I had dropped a second bomb on the bus. I panted slightly from the effort of my shouting, and turned back to Shae, nodding at her. She sighed and ran a hand through her dreadlocks, before composing herself and turning back to the bus load of kids.

“It looks like the Ministry is containing the damage – from what I’ve seen, no one was harmed, and little actual destruction came to the building,” Shae continued, “But all the rebels were caught.”

“What will they do to them?” Ernie asked, wringing his writs in terror.

“I don’t know,” Shae sighed.

“Azkaban, probably,” Sirius snarled.

“Can they imprison them for that? In Azkaban? Vandalism, arson, what have you – seems like more of a muggle crime,” Justin frowned.

“They will whether or not its in their jurisdiction since it was a crime against the Ministry,” Lupin shook his head sadly.

“Will they come after us, next?” Elena asked in terror, her face whiter than I had ever seen it. Just moments ago, Tonks had said we were safe. Now I wasn’t so sure.

“I don’t know,” Lupin answered honestly. A few people began sobbing, but most people just looked stoic and determined – after a year of getting tortured by the Ministry, it wasn’t that much of a surprise to hear that they might try and lock us up.

“Just – everyone, try and sleep. I’m going to drive us home now – best to be at Hogwarts, if they try and take all you kids away there we might be able to fend ‘em off – “ Sirius groaned.

“I’m going to go investigate the damage further,” Shae sighed.

“I’ll come with,” Tonks offered.

“I’ll stay here, make sure Sirius doesn’t crash the bus,” Lupin managed to smirk, though none of us felt much like laughing. I turned to my seat and curled up with Neville, just trying to force myself to go to sleep. I was exhausted enough from the day that I managed to, but the nightmares were vivid and strange and hard to piece together – and when I woke up, stiff and sore and just kind of lying on top of him, I was filled with more dread than I had since Umbridge was a part of my life.

We piled off the bus and wandered into Hogwarts, and I looked around the castle anxiously, waiting to see if anyone decided to arrest us – my heart in my throat as I did so.

McGonagall was waiting in the Entrance Hall, and I immediately ran to her, looking at her in worry and hoping she would have answers, though I didn’t seem to have the ability to open my mouth to ask for them.

“Well they aren’t going to arrest you lot,” McGonagall breathed. A noticeable sigh of relief went up throughout the DA.

“But they’ve arrested all the protesters – they’re all in Azkaban now,” McGonagall finished.

“Fuck,” Ron groaned.

“ _Mister Weasley_ –“ McGonagall snapped.

“Oh give him a break,” Valerie rolled her eyes, “This isn’t good – we’re directly responsible.”

“They knew the risks they were taking,” Lupin frowned, “That’s the sacrifice of rebellion – you know you’re taking risks with your life and freedom.”

I swallowed heavily.

“They knew what they were getting into,” Sirius emphasized, though he also looked troubled, “They wouldn’t have followed you lot if they didn’t believe in what they were doing.”

“So then how do we help them? It’s still our fault,” Valerie muttered.

“If we hadn’t done this they’d be fine,” Elena agreed quietly.

“Fine is a subjective term. You’re all rebelling for a reason – the Ministry is corrupt. None of us were fine,” Sirius shook his head angrily.

“Sirius, I thought we said we weren’t going to encourage them –“ Lupin muttered quietly, but I could still hear him. Murmuring went up in confusion around me – whether or not they could hear, no one knew what Lupin meant.

“I don’t give a flying shite, Remus!” Sirius roared, “The kids are right, and by god, look what they’ve done to the protestors now!”

“They’re in Azkaban,” Lupin sighed, “They’ll survive –“

“You never had to be in there!” Sirius shouted, “I’m going to go see what I can do. Bloody hell, I thought you’d _understand_ –“

I felt my eyes widen in shock. The one difference between adults and teenagers – the only one, really, in this war – was that the adults could actually contain their emotions, and we could not. This was practically breaking an unwritten rule.

No, it _was_ breaking an unwritten rule.

Everyone watched the couple with their mouths hanging open. Sirius fumed for another second before shuffling off in a fury. Lupin watched him go with a mixture of anger and distress, before turning and running up the stairs, presumably to Dumbledore’s office.

“What happens now?” Hermione asked breathlessly.

“You all should just stay out of the way. No more rallies for a bit – just stay calm,” McGonagall swallowed, “We’re trying to see what we can do about the rebels in Azkaban.”

I swallowed and went as fast as I could to my room – quickly running to the Flock, who were all milling about and playing with the many, many, _many_ toys and other enrichment items we had acquired for them. I sat on the floor and they immediately gathered around me, and Neville quickly sat down next to us, and they gathered around him too. Deena loved to sit in his lap more than anything, and had actually gotten into fights with the others over whether or not she should be able to. As Blue settled in mine, I leaned over and rested my head on Neville’s shoulder, sighing deeply and closing my eyes.

“I can’t lose you,” Neville whispered softly.

“I can’t lose you,” I agreed, “But they’re not coming after us, that’s what they said.”

“I know,” Neville mumbled, but he sounded unconvinced.

“It’s going to be okay,” I whispered soothingly, wrapping one of my arms tightly around him. He squeezed me back and we sat there together, watching as the raptors enjoyed us being there and giving them affection, not saying much in the tense atmosphere. He rested his head in my shoulder and I could feel his curls tickle my skin, and it was a nice feeling, and I was so soothed by all of the fluff and warmth around me that I almost felt like I could sleep, and make up for the sheer lack of it I had had lately. In fact, I rested my head on top of Neville’s, and rested against the wall of the room, and closed my eyes.

I dozed for a while – my nostrils filled with the smell of birds and Neville – but leapt back to awareness when a loud knock sounded on the door that was much too close for me for my liking. The raptors leapt with me, startled by my sudden movement, and I groggily got up and wandered to the door as Neville watched me anxiously, as though I was going to get snatched when I saw who was on the other side.

It was just McGonagall. He breathed a sigh of relief as I stepped aside for her to walk in, my hand clenched on the doorknob tightly and my heart pounding in my ears again.

“We’re still trying to negotiate a release,” McGonagall sighed, “But it’s not going well.”

“It’s only been half a day, it could turn round,” Neville suggested tiredly.

“Perhaps, but Professor Dumbledore doesn’t sound optimistic,” McGonagall lamented.

“So then – did you just come here to make us more depressed?” I muttered irritably.

“No,” McGonagall admitted, “Pacifique had a letter for you.”

“Me,” I pointed to my chest and raised an eyebrow, completely surprised.

“Yes, you. Specifically. Apparently he had written it before the attack on the Ministry, knowing something like this might happen. I haven’t opened it, I don’t know why he wrote you in particular,” McGonagall shook her head in bemusement, handing me a piece of rolled up parchment.

I frowned and opened it, reading,

_Look after Sonia_

That was it. That was all that was on the page. I looked up at McGonagall and showed her the note.

“Sonia… Sonia… I think there’s one Sonia in the school,” McGonagall admitted.

“Who is she?” Neville asked groggily.

“A second year. Ravenclaw,” McGonagall frowned, “Sonia Rolland.”

“Why does Pacifique want me to look after a random second year?” I frowned heavily.

“Who knows?” McGonagall shook her head, “But there must be a reason.”

“Maybe she’s his little sister or something,” Neville offered, “He’s fairly young, he could have a sister still in school.”

“Not a second year,” I shook my head.

“Well, his full name is Pacifique Rolland, so,” McGonagall then frowned heavily, looking perplexed.

“What?” I asked in worry.

“I believe Pacifique is Sonia’s father,” McGonagall breathed after a minute.

“What?” Neville asked in shock.

“He’s only like – okay he only _looked_ like he was – what – in his late twenties? Thirty at the most?” I gasped.

“We all have different life situations,” McGonagall raised an eyebrow, “He could have had a child as a teenager.”

I looked over at Neville, and he back at me.

“He was fleeing from Rwanda. Who knows what his story was. At any rate, I believe you should find her – or I can try and find her myself. At any rate, I think you should do what he asks,” McGonagall shrugged.

I nodded and muttered, “Can you find her?”

“Yes, and I’ll bring her back here. Then you can introduce yourselves. Usually she’s in the library – I wouldn’t ask you to follow me there,” McGonagall shook her head mournfully, before leaving the room without another word.

“Why would Pacifique ask _me_ to look after his daughter?” I asked, turning and facing Neville. He shrugged wordlessly.

“I mean it’s my fault he’s in Azkaban, but –“ I began muttering.

“It’s not your fault,” Neville shook his head, “Like Sirius said – they knew what they were getting into.”

“Did we?” I asked him softly. Neville stared back at me, his hair falling into his brown eyes again, his face contorted into a small frown.

“I don’t know,” he admitted.

“We have to get them out of Azkaban,” I whispered softly.

“But how?” Neville shook his head, “It’s not our fault, and there’s no way.”

“It _is_ our fault – Nev – we’re the reason they rebelled,” I swallowed heavily. He stood up, much to the disgruntlement of the Flock, and immediately held my arms in his hands.

“It’s _not our fault_ , Mags,” he shook his head, “It’s _not_.”

“Okay,” I whispered hoarsely.

A knock came from the door again; I turned around and opened it, swallowing back the guilt. McGonagall was standing there, with a young girl – she must have been just barely twelve, and so small and skinny that she was basically swimming in her school uniform. Her skin was as dark as her fathers, and her hair straightened – I could only imagine how long that must have taken – into a ponytail. She had thick glasses and had an air of fury around her that was _palpable_.

“Hello,” I greeted nervously.

“Hi,” she responded, but she still looked positively angry – of course she did. I was the reason her father was in jail.

“Would you two like to use my office to talk?” McGonagall offered softly.

“I guess we have to,” Sonia muttered. I followed her into the room as McGonagall closed the door behind us, and turned to her while frowning.

“My dad’s in jail ‘cause of you,” Sonia started, not beating around the bush.

“Yes,” I acknowledged.

“Are you going to get him out?” she continued, still as blunt as a mace.

“I’m trying,” I admitted.

“Just turn yourself in,” Sonia laughed humorlessly.

“I don’t think that would work,” I admitted, though the guilt in my stomach grew larger.

“Why ever not?” Sonia raised an eyebrow.

“Because they don’t want me in Azkaban,” I stated calmly, well, as calmly as I could, “They know that if they throw me in there, the people will get even angrier. People who aren’t in Azkaban now will rise up and destroy things. Because of what they did to me last year.”

“If you turn yourself in, they’re not the ones who threw you in jail,” Sonia rolled her eyes, “They don’t even have to report it. No one has to know.”

I swallowed, “I still don’t think they’d take me.”

“Have you tried?”

“Have you thought about the fact that your father knew what he was getting into?” I quickly deflected, before the guilt choked my windpipe.

“Of course he didn’t,” Sonia snorted.

“How do you know that?” I demanded.

“Because he didn’t!” Sonia shouted.

“Your father is an adult, perfectly capable of adult judgment,” I shook my head.

“He’s a father, and he was acting like a father,” Sonia muttered.

“What do you mean?” I asked quietly.

“Oh please, you don’t care,” Sonia shook her head, “You just want to get out of going to jail.”

“Sonia, I _do_ care. Your father is a kind man – I only met him a couple of times, but I got that impression instantaneously. That’s why he was fighting – because he wanted our society to be better for everyone. What’s wrong with that? What error in judgement is there, if he knew he could get captured and thrown in jail?” I asked her.

“Because that wasn’t the whole story,” Sonia snorted.

“Then what is?”

“Why should I tell you?”

“Because your dad asked me to look after you.”

“I’m looked after. Tada. Either go get him out of jail or don’t do anything,” Sonia rolled her eyes.

“I’ll do my best,” I stated gruffly, torn between my instinct to get mad at the girl and my guilt that she was in her rights to be mad at me.

“Good,” she snapped back, before leaving the room in a huff. I watched her go in utter bemusement.

_What good did that even do?_

I walked out of the office and went back to my room, just trying to focus on studying so that maybe all the chaos wouldn’t actually destroy my grades.

Of course, when it rains, it pours.

The next morning I went down to breakfast with Neville – he was very tired and groggy, and didn’t want to leave my side unnecessarily. Given how tense everything and every _one_ was, I didn’t blame him for this in the slightest. We walked into the Great Hall and immediately Hermione ran up to us and pushed us out of the room.

“Bloody hell, Mione, what are you doin’?” Neville asked incredulously.

“Nothing, just, go,” Hermione begged.

“Hermione, if this is another article by George, we’re prepared, Merlin you’d think we weren’t capable to adjusting –“ I snorted.

“It’s more than that, and you’re both tired, I don’t think you should –“ Hermione began.

“No use in mollycoddling them,” Harry suddenly interjected, walking up behind us. Hermione snorted and looked away from him, still oozing with anger despite everything going to shit.

 _Get some perspective you **wankers**_ , I thought angrily.

“Last time I hid it and it just made it worse. You were cross with all of us so you didn’t know how they reacted,” Harry rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, well, you weren’t there when Maggie tried to bloody kill herself, so _forgive me_ for wanting to shield her sometimes,” Hermione sneered.

It was like Harry had gotten slapped in the face. His face was deathly pale, and his mouth open slightly, though no words came out.

“Well you made her go to that bloody group therapy session!” Harry retorted after he had regained himself.

“Well you –“

“Oh shut the _fuck up_ , you two are being _ridiculous_!” I shouted, “If you just –“

“No, Maggie, they’re idiots, they no longer deserve our help,” Neville scoffed, “Don’t even try.”

“You’re right,” I agreed angrily, staring at them in fury, “We could die any day and you two are acting like five year olds. Just give me the damn paper.”

Harry thrust the Quibbler into my hands furiously and wandered up the staircase. Hermione made a scoffing sound and went back to the Great Hall as I turned to the paper with Neville, feeling my own anger seethe through me.

_Teenagers Speak Out_

“Okay, this just seems like an article about us,” Neville rolled his eyes.

“Yeah,” I frowned, skimming over it. So far everything _was_ about us – about we said – and then of course a paragraph about the aftermath – and then

“Some appear to be working independently of the group. George Weasley, though long associated with Potter and the others in the Teenager’s Rebellion, has been speaking on his own about topics unrelated to Ministry Corruption. Specifically, he has been speaking about sex, education about sex, consent, drinking, and a lack of this in the wixen community. His message has been well received, though many critics –“ Neville read aloud, his voice shaking with every word.

“Bloody hell,” I whispered.

“What does he think he’s _doing?_ ” Neville roared.

“He’s trying to get back on my good side,” I muttered, fear clenching my heart. What if we ran into him while we were speaking?

 _If we continue speaking_.

“Well he’s not going to bloody well succeed!” Neville shouted.

“Neville,” I whispered.

“I’m sorry – I mean – I mean if you don’t want him to – I don’t want – he was abusive, too, I don’t want him to trap you again,” Neville managed to stammer out.

“I know,” I agreed, “And I don’t want him to succeed, either. And he won’t. I’m older and in a different situation than I was back then.”

“But?” Neville asked, looking furious still.

“But I don’t know what else we can do besides ignore him,” I swallowed heavily, “Short of running away.”

_Always the perfect option._

“We can’t do that,” Neville sighed mournfully.

“No,” I responded.

“Well, if he’s saying good things, then I guess there’s really no point in trying to stop him. It’s not like he’s attempted to contact you or anything horrifying like that,” Neville finally admitted.

“No,” I agreed, “Let’s just ignore it.”

“Okay,” Neville nodded, kissing the top of my head lovingly, but I knew he was less than convinced that this was the right course of action.

Meanwhile, I knew I needed to do what Pacifique had asked – I had to look after Sonia, in _some_ sort of way. It was my fault he was in Azkaban.

I wandered up to Dumbledore’s office as Neville left to work with his plants, swallowing and keeping my head up with determination. It wasn’t hard to enter his office lately – his passwords rarely changed, and Harry usually knew them for his lessons. I entered the office and faced him at his desk, where he was staring into some sort of bowl.

“Yes?” he asked, looking up at me.

“What can I do?” I asked softly.

“What do you mean, Miss Johnson?” Dumbledore furthered, sitting back from the bowl and folding his hands on top of his chest. One was withered – almost dead looking. Though I had kind of known before, it was much more apparent this close to him.

“How can I help to get the rebels out of jail?” I asked simply.

“I do not believe there is a way you can do that,” Dumbledore stated calmly, “I don’t think there’s any way anyone can.”

“There has to be –“

“They tried to burn down the Ministry, Miss Johnson, that is not something one can simply get away with.”

“Then I’d like to offer myself up as replacement –“

“I don’t think they would take you; furthermore, I don’t think you going to Azkaban would help anyone.”

“Then I’d like to do _something_. Even if it’s just _talk_ to them.”

“I don’t know what you could accomplish –“

“At least let me _try_.”

Dumbledore let out a long and heavy sigh, “I’ll be meeting with Minister Bones and some of her advisors this afternoon. Come here then.”

“Alright,” I nodded, and left the office, swallowing and feeling my heart pound in my chest. If I had to go to jail to fix the problem I had caused, I would – but the thought didn’t exactly leave me thrilled or even satisfied.

Neville could tell I was horrifyingly tense all throughout classes in the morning and the afternoon. As I barely paid attention in Herbology, Transfiguration, and Charms, Neville noticed with increasing worry and fear – I will admit, I was acting similar to when I was suicidal, and that was never a good way to act around Neville.  

“What’s wrong?” Neville asked for the millionth time as we headed down to lunch.

“Nothing,” I responded calmly. It was important that he not catch on.

“You’re acting strange – are you spiraling?” he asked simply.

“Nope, I’m perfectly fine,” I answered honestly.

“You don’t _seem_ fine,” Neville muttered, but he didn’t press the issue again, and we ate in silence – Hermione and Harry on opposite ends of the Gryffindor table, as far away from each other, and us, as possible.

It was hard to feel like things could ever be normal again when my _family_ was broken up.

Neville headed off to research human genetics and to conduct experiments with his thousands of samples – one of the few really good things to come out of the rebellion trail – and I went back to Dumbledore’s, my heart now properly in my throat and my jaw clenched as tightly as it could go.

When I got there, Minister Bones and a few other Ministry members were already there. Dumbledore and Bones smiled at me, in their respective ways; but the other officials sneered – one even scowled – at me.

“Hello,” I greeted as dully as I could, trying my hardest to not appear despearate _or_ furious, though I was both.

“Remind me why we haven’t locked her up, Amelia,” one official stated angrily.

“Because she hasn’t actually committed a criminal offence, Quincy,” Bones snapped back, “We’ve been over this. Or should I rethink my decision to not fire you for being an accomplice to Fudge and Umbridge?”

Quincy sat back silently, still giving me a deathly, bone-chilling stare.

“We’ve said it before, and we’ll say it again, Albus,” another official stated calmly, not even paying attention to me, “We cannot release the rebels.”

“You have no right to imprison them in Azkaban for a muggle crime,” Dumbledore stated, pinching his nose almost in irritation, “There is no rule that you can do such a thing, Nancy, none at all.”

“Then we should send them to the muggle court system? For a crime against a magical agency?” Nancy laughed coldly, “Hardly!”

“The failure of your governmental system and laws to account for muggle crimes is not one that you can just hand wave away by giving all people the same punishment, regardless of the severity of their crime. I will agree that vandalism and arson is a horrifying crime that should be punished, however, they should _not_ be punished by dementors –“

“You and dementors again! What do you have against them?” Quincy snorted, “They do their job well, and serve as a deterrent!”

“Their effects directly imitate – no, even _cause_ – mental illness!” Dumbledore roared, “If you do not believe me, ask Miss Johnson here – and one does not _give someone an illness_ as a form of punishment!”

“Tell me, _Miss Johnson_ ,” Nancy stated dismissively, “What is it about having this so-called _depression_ that makes it so horrible?”

“It’s like you’re constantly drowning,” I stated calmly. They all watched me, as though I would continue – but I did not want to.

“That’s all. You’re drowning. You’re drowning in your own sorrows,” I clarified, “And there’s actually a muggle form of torture – called water boarding – when you kind of constantly drown someone. Anyway it’s illegal, like, internationally illegal, so, you’re committing crimes against international law by purposefully giving someone depression, since it’s basically a form of torture.”

“Ha!” the third advisor snorted, “As if muggle laws apply to –“

“Oh my _god_ that is the _problem_ with you people!” I screeched, unable to stop myself, “You are humans! Those laws apply to _humans_ , not to _muggles_ – all humans! Wizard and muggle alike! Do you just _not think you’re the same species_?!”

“Listen to her drivel – depression, torture, international law, species – what is this nonsense?” Quincy snorted, “The fact remains, Dumbledore, that you cannot take them out of Azkaban –“

“Take me instead,” I finally stated. Dumbledore and Amelia looked at me sharply – clearly, neither had even wanted me to suggest it.

“Now _there’s_ an idea,” Quincy smiled positively evilly.

“As much as I feel it would do you some good to be – shall we say, given some time to contemplate your choices and actions,” Nancy sneered, “I’m afraid that if we took you, or any of your friends, and put you in Azkaban, more of the public would revolt than just those in jail.”

“It’s almost as if you lot made a mistake when you tortured them last year,” Amelia snapped.

“Perhaps,” Nancy acknowledged.

“Only in moving too quickly. If we had waited, this year we could have arrested them, no problem,” Quincy snorted.

“For acting well within their rights? What sort of society do you wish to run, Quincy?” Amelia demanded, “It is not one the people will tolerate!”

“Does that matter?” Quincy laughed.

I was so horrified by this conversation that I wanted to vomit.

“In any case, I’m afraid we must decline your offer, Miss Johnson,” Nancy continued, “I am sorry that there is no way you can –“

“I’ll stop giving speeches.”

“What?” the third advisor snapped, looking shocked – all three – no, all five adults looked shocked.

“I’ll stop giving speeches,” I repeated, “I will not speak at any more weekend rallies. Hell, I won’t even _appear_ at them. I can’t stop the rest of my peers, but I think that that should be enough, don’t you?”

“She is the one that gets them riled up the most,” the third said calmly.

“It would be a major calming factor,” Nancy agreed.

“Miss Johnson, think about what you’re saying,” Dumbledore stated calmly, looking at me over his glasses.

“The rebels do not deserve to be in Azkaban. If this is a way to get them out, then it’s worth the sacrifice,” I stated simply, “The rebellion does not need me to continue.”

_Plus, no more speeches – no more anxiety – no more freaking out –_

“I cannot have you take away Maggie’s freedom of speech, permanently,” Amelia stated suddenly, “That is not something I will tolerate.”

“Perhaps a time limit,” Dumbledore offered, “She cannot give speeches again until the new year.”

“Bah! That’s hardly any time at all!” Quincy snorted.

“It would decrease the rebellion’s momentum and stop the more violent part of the message from spreading for two months,” Nancy shook her head, “That’s good. That’s very good. That’s better than we could have hoped for.”

“So we’re _taking_ it?” Quincy shouted.

“Only if Miss Johnson promises to not take part in any rebellious activities for the rest of this year,” Nancy frowned, “Not even ones outside of rallies.”

“I can do that,” I stated calmly, “Though next week a club here at school is having a parade in Diagon Alley – it’s not a rebellious activity, just a public one –“

“Fine, fine,” Nancy waved her hand, “I remember giving permission for that – seems minor. Do we have a deal?”

“Miss Johnson –“ Dumbledore interjected.

“What?” I asked sharply, anger filling my chest again.

“Think about what you are offering, here,” Dumbledore emphasized calmly.

“It’s just two months,” I stated softly, “And they need to be freed.”

Dumbledore frowned horrifically as I shook my hand with Nancy. She smiled widely and immediately wrote something on a piece of paper. Handing it to an owl, the owl flew off into the sky, out of Dumbledore’s window.

“Your little friends will be freed now. If you break our agreement, I will put them back in Azkaban again,” Nancy smiled widely.

“Seems fair,” I nodded quietly.

“Good. Good, I’m glad we got this settled. Good day,” Nancy smiled and left, Quincy and the third advisor following her. Amelia looked at Dumbledore for a long minute, the two deeply concerned, before leaving as well.

“You do realize that you could have just killed everything your friends have worked for?” Dumbledore asked sharply once they were all gone.

“I think having our main group of support locked away in Azkaban would have done that more than me not doing rebellious things,” I scoffed, “I can still go to meetings – they’ll never know that I went, will they? And frankly, I didn’t speak much at those rallies. Yeah, the last one – the one that started this whole mess – I was a speaker at – but I wasn’t at most of the others. The rest of the rebels have it covered.”

“But you can’t even _appear_ at them,” Dumbledore shook his head, “Your appearance was a major draw –“

“Then I’ll have the others tell the people at rallies what I sacrificed,” I shrugged, “That should drive the cause, right? That I had to give up my freedom of speech so people could be given a fair trial – a fair shot in the justice system – well, I guess not fair, exactly, I mean they did objectively commit a crime, but – not torture.”

“Hmm,” Dumbledore was now smiling a little under his beard, “Yes, I suppose they could.”

“I know I sacrificed something, and I know the rebellion’s going to take a hit,” I took a deep breath, “But it was going to take a hit either way, I think, and in this way, no one gets dementors.”

“Well, I hope you’re right,” Dumbledore nodded, “Now you should go quell your friends – I’m sure they’re worried about your absence.”

I nodded and walked back out of the room, letting out a breath I didn’t know I had been holding as I went down to my room. Neville was waiting there for me, looking at me in terror as I entered.

“Where have you been – what’s been going on – what’s happening?” he asked very fast.

“I just got the people out of Azkaban,” I stated calmly.

“What – how?” Neville demanded, looking at me in shock.

“I can’t participate in the rebellion for the rest of this year,” I responded, “Well – they can’t _know_ I participated – probably can still do DA stuff in the safety of Hogwarts.”

“ _What?!_ ” Neville shouted.

“Look, I offered first to go to Azkaban –“

“ ** _WHAT_?!** ” Neville shouted louder, looking furious.

“But they wouldn’t take it – said the public would rebel more –“

“WHAT THE BLOODY HELL WERE YOU THINKING, MAGGIE?!” Neville screamed.

“I was thinking that it was my fault they were in jail in the first place, and someone had to do something about it!” I retorted.

“Oh my god – the rebellion could die because of this, did you think about that?” Neville shouted.

“I am not nearly as important as you all think I am, and frankly I think the rebellion would have died with all of its major members in jail!” I roared back, “You lot have the rebellion covered – most of the galvanizing speeches weren’t mine – almost all, honestly –“

“Your presence was a major part of it! You’re a symbol for rebelling against the Ministry, after what happened with Umbridge – the fact that you survived, gives people hope!” Neville screamed.

“Well, you lot will have to tell everyone about how I sacrificed my freedom of speech, and potentially the rebellion, to free people who did not deserve to be tortured – that alone should help fill my absence!” I retorted.

“That may be, but you should have consulted with someone!” Neville insisted, “You just – jumped headfirst! Without warning! Oh I _knew_ something was up today!”

“I didn’t want you to worry – or try to talk me out of it –“

“What if they had put you in jail, huh? I should have talked you out of that – talk about a bloody stupid idea –“

“Oi! And I would have broken out!”

“Oh? How, dare I ask?” Neville scoffed.

“I dunno, but I would have! Dragon I guess!” I shrugged, “Anyway that’s a moot point – I knew they wouldn’t take that deal!”

“What is the rebellion going to say, when you can’t come to rallies?”

“That I did what had to be done to keep our movement _out of Azkaban!_ ”

“You were acting on your feelings of guilt again! You _know_ that they’re exaggerated! You _know_ that’s another one of your symptoms of depression!” Neville insisted.

“Well I acted on them! I can’t take it back now, and they’re out of jail!” I snapped, “And we _need_ them out of jail and you _know_ it!”

“Yes,” Neville admitted, before sighing heavily, “Well, I’m never going to agree with what you did, but I don’t want to keep fighting.”

“Same,” I agreed tiredly.

“Just – just – stop sacrificing yourself, _geez_ , Mags,” Neville groaned, “It’s not fair to me, okay? It’s not.”

“What is fair, then?” I snapped, “Am I supposed to fight in this war? Or am I supposed to survive for you? Because if it’s the latter, which I’m _fine_ with, then what the _fuck_ are we doing here? Why haven’t we run away yet? And if it’s the former – then war means sacrifices!”

Neville stared at me in shock.

“I don’t care which it is,” I stated simply, “You just have to make up your bloody mind.”

“Why can’t we have a compromise between the two?” he said in a strangled voice.

“Then that means we do both of those things in a terrible way,” I insisted, “Either we don’t sacrifice enough to actually get shit _done_ , or we sacrifice too much and lose each other! Either we have to accept that we have to do what we can, which might involve losing each other – or – or we run! We accept that we value having each other in our lives more than we do the war! Which I don’t care if that’s selfish! If you made me pick, that’s probably what I’d pick!”

“So then why do I have to?” Neville responded in a strangled voice.

“ _Because_ my answer is us running – I don’t – I know it’s _wrong_ , morally, so I want you to be the voice of reason!” I sobbed, unable to stop myself.

“Why should I have to be the voice of reason? How is that fair?” Neville yelled.

“It’s not!” I agreed.

“Cause I want to run too!” Neville sobbed, holding his face in his hands, “I want to run, too.”

I sat with him on the bed and he immediately wrapped his arms so tightly around me that I could barely breathe, the two of us holding tightly to each other.

“I want to run too, Mags, but we can’t,” Neville whispered.

“I’d never forgive myself,” I agreed softly.

“How are we going to do this? Mags I spent the whole day in fear that you’d do something like this –“ Neville sobbed.

“I… okay,” I sighed heavily, “I promise I’ll never keep something like this from you again, okay? I promise.”

“You do?” Neville whispered in shock.

“I do,” I nodded, “I know you’ll try and talk me out of some things, but – but I don’t want to hurt you again. I’m sorry.”

“Okay,” Neville whispered, “Okay. So full openness, then, about what we do for the war?”

“No matter how stupid of an idea or how self-sacrificing it may be, yes,” I nodded.

“Thanks Mags,” Neville murmured, “I think I can handle that if I know that you’re being honest.”

“I promise,” I nodded, “I’m sorry.”

“I forgive you,” he mumbled, kissing me on the forehead, “I do.”

“Now the main question is, will the rest of the rebellion forgive me?” I sighed.

“I dunno,” Neville frowned, “It really depends on if the rebellion suffers or not.”

“Well, I maintain I’m not that important,” I nodded decisively.

“Mags, you really need to give yourself more credit,” Neville sighed heavily, “But I’m tired… I hope you’re right.”

I nodded and rested my head on his chest, wrapping my arms tightly around his soft middle and squeezing. I dreaded what my friends and the rest of the rebellion would say in the morning when they found out what happened.

Neville was worried, too – he walked down to breakfast with me with his arm protectively around my shoulder. I nestled into his embrace, even though we were walking – I was tired, and just wanted to run away with him, so it was harder and harder to face the situation bravely.

Something about the Ministry locking up dozens of people without a trial or any sort of law process had destroyed any optimism I had left.

Hermione ran up to me, looking furious, her hair in a ponytail and swishing all about madly – so curly and poofy it was almost alarming.

“Look, Hermione, I chewed her out yesterday –“ Neville began.

“I don’t care!” Hermione screeched, “Maggie, do you _realize_ what you’ve _done_?”

“I don’t care,” I muttered angrily, “It’s our fault they were in jail.”

“It’s like Sirius said! They knew what they were getting into!” Hermione roared.

“And so did I!” I shouted, “I don’t think we can have a rebellion without rebels! I’m one person – they’re dozens! They need to be out and active!”

“You are a _main motivator_ –“

“Use me as a fucking martyr, Hermione, and besides, it’s only for two months!” I screeched, “Two bloody months!”

“Those two months could be critical –“

“Then don’t let my absence be wasted! Use it! Remind the people that the Ministry will take away someone’s freedom of speech just to _not throw people in jail without a trial!_ ”

“You should have talked to us about what you were doing!” Hermione roared.

“And have you lot stop me and them still in jail?” I snorted.

“There had to have been another way –“ Hermione insisted.

“There wasn’t! And bloody hell could you lot stop _yelling_ at me about this?” I groaned, “I have a headache, and it’s gone on long enough!”

Hermione fumed, but I took my seat at the Gryffindor table, too tired to think much of anything else. I just wanted to lie down.

Out of my peripheral vision, I could see Sonia getting up from the Ravenclaw table and stomping over towards the Gryffindor one. I groaned and held my face in my hands, overwhelmed with all the criticism.

She stood in front of me stoically, looking at me with no more of a kind or forgiving expression than she had had before.

“What?” I asked sharply.

“You got him out of jail,” she responded with equal vitriol.

“I did – so what are you doing here?” I snapped.

“He says that he thinks you made a mistake – that they weren’t worth it,” Sonia shrugged, “Thought you should know.”

“I did what he bloody asked me to do – I looked after you,” I sneered, “is that all?”

“Yes,” Sonia snapped, turning and leaving as quickly as she had come.

Most of the day was like that – people from the DA telling me I had made a mistake. It was so overwhelming that that evening I had to go out and do something – I took my bow and arrows, something I hadn’t touched since I had – anyway, a hobby I hadn’t made much time for of late. I wandered up to the battlements of the castle, tired and resting against them. After Kat and Ginny had fought from up here, I wanted to test my aim from this distance – see if I couldn’t help them out next time. It was another way to defend the castle, and perhaps I could keep myself at least a little bit safer, for Neville’s sake.

I let out another deep sigh.

How was I supposed to reconcile these two needs – the need to protect and be with Neville, and the need to help my brother and the rebellion?

I leaned against one of the battlements and stared out on the grounds of the castle, resting my head in my arms. I was so tired. I couldn’t remember the last time I hadn’t been exhausted to my core, and I _didn’t_ _like it_.

It was getting dark, and as I stared out onto the grounds, I could barely make out much of anything. Perhaps coming up here to try and shoot something was a mistake – though I had really needed the practice – I must have been getting rusty –

In the dim light from Hagrid’s cabin, I could see someone moving. I frowned, looking closer – after all, it was getting late enough that students were heavily discouraged from being on the Grounds; though I (and my friends) were crazy enough to try it, most students wouldn’t.

I couldn’t make out the figure, though they were dressed in a cloak, or robes, or something similar. I swallowed and shifted, knowing I could see better as a dragon, perching on the battlement and staring closer.

The person was a tall woman, with wild black hair. Briefly her head turned to face in my direction –

A Death Eater Mask –

I immediately shifted back and pulled an arrow from my quiver. I knew magic wouldn’t get that far and still be accurate, but I had managed to shoot things from farther distances before – but I was _so_ out of practice –

I let the arrow fly and it managed to _just_ miss the Death Eater – probably Bellatrix. She looked around wildly and I dove behind the battlements, lucky that she wouldn’t be able to hit me well with magic anyway.

“WE’VE BEEN SPOTTED!” I heard her scream. I quickly crawled through the narrow passageway and back into the door, running down the corridor and screaming at the top of my lungs –

“ _THEY’RE COMING! THEY’RE ATTACKING! DEATH EATERS!”_

People began moving out of the places I passed – libraries, common rooms, classrooms – and running with me. I ran towards my room, my heart in my throat as I forced the door open and faced Neville.

“An attack?” he asked immediately, his face pale – somehow it grew paler when he saw I had my arrows.

“Yup,” I nodded, “I was up – going to practice shooting, I promise – and –“

“Who did you see?” he asked immediately.

“Bellatrix – and I think there were more in the woods,” I swallowed.

“Oh bloody hell,” he groaned, “What do we do –“

“I’m not sure,” I sighed as the raptors around me began fussing and chirping.

“Well we better go out there, come on,” Neville groaned. I dropped the arrows and bow – I was too out of practice – and we ran together through the corridor, back outside, though it was getting _very_ dark now.

Still, that didn’t seem to matter as we reached the grounds. Everything was on fire – _everything._ Bellatrix was back, and with a vengeance. It was a wild blaze, covering every inch of the ground, and I ran forward immediately, sweeping my arms about to capture the fire and to reduce it down to a small flame. Bellatrix shrieked in fury and the fire grew again, and I immediately quelled it, sweat forming on my brow as I did so.

“Don’t worry about the girl!” she shrieked, “Just get inside that castle!”

“Never!” Neville screamed, and suddenly he managed to pull a truly awe-inspiring amount of water up from the lake. It crashed over our heads and put out all the fire instantly, even throwing Bellatrix to the ground in the process. I immediately balled up a gust of fire and sent it at her – though we had started using other elements in Elementalism class, and I was okay with them, I still wanted to stick to my primary one. She managed to dive out of the way of the fire just in time and I quickly balled up more, sending fireball after fireball at her as she managed to scurry out of the way.

“Are people getting into the castle?” I screamed at Neville, swallowing heavily as I sent the fire after her.

“I don’t know – fuck!” Neville shouted as more people came _out_ of the castle to fight. The chaos grew greater, and I chased after Bellatrix in fury, trying to run her off the grounds.

Still, she turned to face me, and I had to capture the wall of fire she sent at me immediately, twisting it about my body and flinging it into the air. She snarled and I kicked up fire from the ground, swallowing and concentrating as much as I can. The fire was everywhere, and in the frigid night air it felt somewhat nice, but still much too hot whenever it got close to me. She sent a stream of it from her own feet and I leapt into the air above it, grabbing my ankles and rolling, before kicking out fire down at her. She screeched again and moved out of the way, though her hair caught on fire – what had grown back from September, anyway. She turned to face me, pulling out her wand, and I quickly ducked out of the way as a green spell passed just where I had been standing.

“NO!”

I turned to see Neville screaming and basically – what the fuck –

He was _surfing on the water_.

I felt my mouth drop open but I quickly regained myself as Neville surfed in on a wave of water, looking awkward and though he was going to fall off, but he didn’t – instead he stumbled to the ground and directed the wave of water directly into Bellatrix. It blasted her backwards, so far that she was shot straight into the lake. I looked at Neville in shock and amazement as he turned back to me, panting.

“You never fail to disappoint,” I breathed, running forward to him and pulling his face into my hands. I kissed him passionately and he eagerly wrapped his arms around me in response, deepening the kiss despite the chaos going on about our heads.

“They’re getting into the castle!” someone shouted in the distance. I swallowed and pulled myself from him, running inside and following the crowd – many Order members and students were fighting inside the Entrance Hall itself, and I had to duck out of the way of falling rubble as I ran through the room. I looked around wildly, to see who needed help – everyone seemed to be managing, but the chaos and rubble were not helping things in the slightest.

“Mags!”

I turned around to see Sam running towards me, looking haggard and terrified, his face covered in _blood_.

“What the _fuck_ happened –“

“Never mind that – I’m fine – they’re in the Grand Staircase – seem to be trying to get to the seventh floor – “

“What do we do?” I demanded, now running with him back up the stairs.

“I don’t know – we have to stop them!” he groaned. I could hear Neville following us and I turned to grab his arm, pulling him along with us. He managed to start running alongside me, though he looked more tired than I had ever seen him – but who could blame him, really –

The castle shook madly – everything started quaking as we passed through a narrow corridor. I watched as a group of stones started to come loose form the foundation and I screamed in terror as they started to fall towards Neville. I pulled him out of the way and pushed him down to the ground, trying to cover his body with mine even though I was much smaller than him. Sam crouched low against the wall, too, as rocks started tumbling down. Neville regained himself and curled up with me, shaking from head to foot as a large stone just missed my arm and leg.

“Come on!” Sam shouted when the rubble stopped tumbling. Neville weakly got to his feet and I dragged him with me, shaking myself as I ran down the corridor with him, reaching the Grand Staircase and staring at the chaos.

Most of the Death Eaters were at the bottom, and most of the people on our side were at the top – defending the seventh floor, as it was clear that the Death Eaters were trying to get up there. I immediately pulled out my wand and shot curses at them, and some turned to see us, now surrounded on the moving stairwells. They had no where to go but other floors.

Neville, Sam and I began shooting curse after curse at the Death Eaters, and they in response began fleeing down wherever they could – every floor soon had Death Eaters going down them, and other members of the Order and the students started chasing after them. Neville and I followed one who was going down the corridor where our room was – running as fast as we could to try and corner him.

He turned around while he was running to shoot curse after curse at us, and we dodged out of the way and blocked them with shields. One curse hit my arm and I could feel it numbing up; another hit Neville’s side and I could see blood seeping from a wound. I roared in anger and shot another curse back at the Death Eater, who managed to dodge out of the way and slash my leg. Blood seeped through my sock and I stumbled forward in pain, forcing myself to keep going as we ran through the corridor.

We chased him as he turned a corner and then started _screaming_.

“What the –“ Neville groaned, clutching his side.

I could hear the unmistakeable sounds of hissing, screeches, and bird-like squaks and chirps.

“BLUE!” I screamed, running down and turning the corridor – she and her siblings were no match against magic –

But it turns out they were plenty smart.

I watched in amazement, stopping dead in my tracks at the sight of the entire flock just – _mobbing_ the Death Eater. One had thought almost immediately to knock the wand out of his hand, no doubt – it was far away in the corridor. Blue was on his face, doing her signature move – her wings flapping hard to stay aloft as he tried to break free, her toes clawing at his face, ripping it apart. Ave was on his chest, pocking it every which way – unfamiliar with human anatomy, he didn’t know where to do so _strategically_ , but the Death Eater sure was losing a lot of blood. Deena was biting at his legs, trying to tear off the material of his robes. Mong had managed to start chewing off his hand – perhaps he had knocked the wand out – and was doing a bang up job – I could see _bone_ – and then Penny was stabbing at his stomach, also flapping madly to try and restrain him, blood pouring from exposed skin under her feet.

“Holy shite,” I breathed.

“What – what do we do –“ Neville gasped.

But his question was moot. Blue managed to stab – _some_ sort of vein in the man’s skull – and blood was pouring like a faucet. He finally grew still, dropping down as blood pooled all around him, filling up the corridor and covering my raptors in its sticky, thick viscosity.

They all began eating the Death Eater, except Blue – who looked up at me, looking proud of herself again.

“Merlin, Blue,” I breathed.

“How the hell did they get out here in the first place?” Neville demanded in shock.

“Didn’t you say you thought they could open doors?” I laughed weakly.

“Yeah that – that was a _joke_ – a bloody Jurassic Park joke –“ Neville swallowed.

“Well _I_ can’t come up with another one,” I shrugged, “They were in our room. Now they are not.”

“Good thing, too – look at your leg,” Neville pointed. It was covered in blood.

“Oh, right – well your side!” I insisted.

“Exactly – we couldn’t have fought him for much longer – thanks,” Neville said affectionately, scritchling all the raptors.

“He said lovingly to the pack of murderous birds,” I snorted.

“Yes,” Neville nodded matter-of-factly.

“Let’s patch this up – what was that spell Hermione taught us?” I asked.

“I don’t remember exactly – er – “ Neville groaned.

“Fuck it,” I rolled my eyes, tearing my uniform blouse – I wasn’t wearing a sweater anyway – and wrapping the cloth around Neville. He watched me with raised eyebrows as I tied it tightly around his wound. I then reached and pulled off my not-bloody sock, wrapping it around the wound on my leg. I then took off the other one for good measure.

“What?” I asked.

“Your basically not wearing a shirt,” he commented, staring at me in appreciation.

“Oi! Is now the bloody time?” I laughed.

“When is it not, really?” Neville chuckled, kissing me. The raptors were still eating the carcass, and there was blood and guts everywhere, but I couldn’t help but kiss Neville back. I never could help that.

“Come on,” he gasped, looking positively breathless after the kiss. We could deal with the great mess outside our door later. We ran back out to the Stairwell, but it was in chaos – staircases were actually falling down, and it looked nearly impossible to get down.

“Bloody hell!” Neville shouted in shock.

“Follow me – I remember corridors from when I hung out with the Weasley twins – come on!” I screamed, grabbing his arm as the castle crumbled about our heads.

“Where are we going?” Neville shouted in fear.

“Back down to – crap – the raptors – we gotta get them somewhere safe!” I screamed, running back the way we came. The castle was too unstable for my liking.

“Mags –“ Neville shouted, but I was not to be swayed. I ran up the stairs as fast as I could and back to the corridor with our room. The raptors were still feeding on the Death Eater in a frenzy as the walls and floor shook around them.

“Where would be safe?” Neville asked in fear.

“Blue!” I shouted. She looked up immediately, her maw covered in blood, and chirped.

“Come on!” I screamed. She chirped again and I lead her and the rest of them into McGonagall’s office. From there, we went through another door – she had given me the key to the office proper for experiments, and then she never locked her room – and into her bedroom, which was deep inside the castle and barely shaking at all.

The raptors filed in, chirping and milling about the bedroom.

“What if they tear apart her sheets?” Neville asked in fear as Ave jumped on the bed and settled in to nap, “At the very least, they’re getting blood everywhere.”

“It’s safer in here than it is in our bathroom, which is the only other really safe place I can think of,” I shrugged, “Blue.”

She looked at me again.

“ _Stay_ ,” I said firmly. She chirped and I left with Neville, the two of us firmly shutting the doors and running back out into the fray. _Now_ I grabbed Neville’s arm and dragged him behind a portrait, running down a deep and not-shaky corridor, all the way down the castle and back to the Entrance Hall.

It was pandemonium. Elements and spells were flying everywhere, and there were so many people that I could barely comprehend what I was seeing. I groaned and clutched my head in my hands, overwhelmed with everything.

“Mags,” Neville gasped worriedly.

“I’m okay – I’m okay – how are you?” I breathed, looking up at him.

“Er –“ Neville pointed. His side was still bleeding, and heavily. I immediately unbuttoned the rest of my blouse, left standing in only a cami and my uniform skirt, and I tied the blouse tightly around his waist.

“Mags – er –“ he stammered.

“Who cares, I don’t,” I shrugged, “I need to stem the bleeding.”

“Don’t blame me when your boobs bounce every which way –“ Neville smirked slightly.

“I won’t,” I laughed, running out into the fray and shooting spells at random Death Eaters. It was true – the damn twin devils were bouncing all about – but I ignored it, pushing my way through out onto the Grounds.

The dragons and giants were fighting again – there were three giants now, and I had no idea where Voldemort was _getting_ all of them, given that they were _endangered_ – and the dragons were barely keeping up with them.

I shifted and dove at one of the giants, pulling at their skin. Blood poured into my mouth as I did so and I sputtered, spitting it out and twisting and turning about the giant’s body. I could feel exhaustion fill my bones – it was getting _very_ late now – and I dove at another giant, grappling at his neck and ripping out veins and arteries as best I could.

Blood was everywhere tonight. It flowed out of the giant and onto the ground and me, and other dragons, and I managed to skirt away, dizzy and overwhelmed – very overwhelmed – I felt a dull pain in my head while I was trying to compose myself -

I began tumbling from the sky, turning about on my axis, chaotically twisting over myself as I didn’t have the energy to stay aloft. I could hear someone screaming in the distance as I crashed into the ground. I was in so much paint that I didn’t even realize when I blacked out.

I woke up in the Hospital Wing. I came to with a start, terrified and filled with dread – what had happened – what was happen _ing_ –

“Maggie – Maggie – it’s okay –“

I looked over in terror to see Hermione, her face pale.

“What happened?” I asked in shock.

“A giant managed to club you in the head,” Hermione murmured, “You crashed to the ground – you had a lot of broken bones, but Pomfrey patched you up quickly –“

“What’s happening with the battle – where is Neville – where’s Harry –“ I sputtered out.

“It’s winding down – the last of the Death Eaters are leaving. Neville’s fine, I told him to keep fighting, but he was sick to death with worry about you –“ Hermione rambled.

“Why am I in the Hospital Wing?” I demanded.

“Many people are – others are in dormitories – the Great Hall got sort of, well, trashed –“ Hermione sighed.

“Bloody hell,” I groaned, sitting up.

“You need to rest –“

“I need to _help_ – “

“Maggie –“

“Don’t try and stop me, Hermione, I’m fine,” I grunted. I got up and wandered out of the wing, but I was definitely dizzy, and I could barely move down the steps. Hermione followed me anxiously, and I could see she was covered in blood and scars herself, and was walking with a limp. I wrapped my arm around her shoulder and she wrapped hers around mine – nothing like a deadly battle to make people patch up their disagreements.

We reached the Entrance Hall and people were sobbing – loudly. I looked around in fear and saw Sam running towards me, his face pale.

“Who – who – what –“ I stammered.

“It’s – bloody hell,” Sam whispered, “Bloody hell.”

“What happened?” Hermione asked in terror.

“The Death Eaters are gone,” Sam stated calmly, “A few of them were killed, too, which is – well – useful, anyway –“

“But?” I demanded weakly, fear clutching my heart.

“We… we…” Sam actually looked like he was going to _cry_.

“Who?” Hermione asked breathlessly.

“Terry, Chris, and Vanessa,” Sam choked out. Hermione immediately began crying. My heart clenched harder. I had not been close with any of them, but they had been DA members. Proper DA members. People I had had conversations with, and partied with, and hugged and chit chatted with and tried to save the _world_ with.

And they were _gone_.

“What time is it?” I whispered after a long pause during which Hermione cried.

“After midnight. Happy bloody Halloween,” Sam stated dully.

“What’s going to happen to the school?” I murmured, looking around at all the debris and destruction.

“I don’t know,” Sam answered honestly.

I started crying, and I held Hermione tightly, unable to control myself. Everything ached, but that was to be expected. Most people were milling about the Entrance Hall, and there was a _lot_ of crying – I could see the people who had been closest to the three crying the most. Elena was sobbing particularly hard – she had probably gotten close to Vanessa, being in the same year and all –

“OI!”

I looked to see Harry standing on top of a pile of rubble, looking about at everyone with a stern and determined face.

“Look – look – look,” he stammered, now a little nervous, but clearly forcing himself to continue on.

“Look – this – this sucks,” he finally settled on, “We lost – we lost some good people today. We lost some wonderful people.”

Someone began crying loudly.

“Terry – Terry was in my year. He was brilliant. First off, no one in the world had a beard like he did. Second off, he was kind, and _brilliant_ , and one of the best at defense I knew. And Chris – Chris was _hilarious_ – you could always get a laugh from Chris – and he was actually good at potions – and – and Vanessa – Vanessa was young – and – and bright – and always so damn _happy_ – everyone else could be panicking but she’d see the bright sid of things – we lost – we lost some good people tonight,” Harry stammered out. People sobbed louder.

“Our castle’s in ruins, we’ve lost some of our own, but we held them back. We stopped them from getting whatever they were after. And we can’t – we can’t – we can’t let them beat us,” Harry drew in a shaky breath.

“There will be people who want us to close the school. They’ll think it’s not safe. But if it’s not safe for us in here, how much more safe do you think we’ll be out _there_?” Harry demanded, “No, the Death Eaters probably won’t target your houses like they do Hogwarts – but if we’re not here to defend the school – then they’ll get what they’re after, and gain more power and – and – we’ll have failed our duty to the school. We’ll have let them win. Should we let them win?”

A chorus of no’s went up throughout the room – a surprising response, all things considered.

“We can’t let them win. We can’t let them beat us. We lost some good people. We can’t let that loss go in vein. In an _ideal_ world,” Harry sneered, “The Ministry would be protecting us, wouldn’t they? They would have _fucking recognized_ that Voldemort was coming back _last year,_ and taken the necessary precautions – but they didn’t – and now they don’t even try to make up for it. They’re obsessed with _silencing children_ ,” Harry nodded in my direction, and everyone turned to stare at me – in my state of practically nakedness, I blushed horrifically – “And throwing people who they’ve _oppressed_ in jail. Not in caring for kids.”

I saw Luna in the corner – she was scribbling madly on parchment.

“And because of the Ministry’s _stupidity_ and – and – _incompetence_ – three kids have died. The Ministry – not Death Eaters, not really – killed Vanessa. And Terry. And Chris,” Harry drew in a shaky breath.

“We will not leave Hogwarts. Hogwarts is our _home_. And if they won’t protect it, then bloody hell – _we_ well. We will continue to defend Hogwarts, and make sure that their loss was not in vein.”

“YES!” the crowd – almost every Hogwarts student, including a _surprising number_ of Slytherins – shouted.

“Good,” Harry nodded, “Good. Now let’s – let’s – “

“Clean up, everyone,” McGonagall said for him, looking horrified and depressed all at once, “We can’t sleep when the castle is like this – we’re vulnerable –“

I turned to Hermione in fear. Her expression matched mine, almost identically.

It felt like the _war_ had truly begun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I AM SO SORRY GUYS. REALLY AND TRULY. Look I have had kind of a crap month and a half - I've been very depressed, I've been swamped with schoolwork, my computer broke, I've had money trouble, my future has seemed uncertain, it's been horrifying. And on top of it I've had horrifying writer's block. 
> 
> I don't know when I'll have a chance to update again - I have a lot of stuff to do the next week, but after that I should have some free time I think (biochem exam on Tuesday). We'll see. I might also have inspiration strike me - this chapter was rather hard to push through. 
> 
> PLEASE comment, and again, I'm so sorry - this happens sometimes! I have a lot else on my plate, and mental health is a bitch. 
> 
> Thank you all for your lovely comments! Also, Velociraptor by Ryuukiba on tumblr (my frond) and awesome Team Potter picture by Diana Benitez.


	104. Chapter One Hundred and Three: October 31 - November 2, 1996, Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Make up your mind   
> Let me leave or let me love you   
> While you've been saving your neck   
> I've been breaking mine for ya'   
> The power is on, the guillotine hums   
> My back's to the wall - go on, let it fall   
> Make up your mind   
> Before I make it up for you."   
> ~ Florence and the Machine, "Make Up Your Mind".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for descriptions of rape and rape threats; description of rape between the swirly lines; also tw for misgendering at the end of the chapter

Chapter 103: October 31 – November 2, 1996, Hogwarts and London

I don’t exactly remember when I went to bed on Halloween. Classes were canceled for the day so after we were done cleaning I just crawled into bed and slept.

Cleaning up the Death Eater carcass had been the most disgusting part of the job.

So I spent most of the morning and afternoon hibernating in Neville’s arms, and he hibernated in mine, and the raptors were all around us despite being covered in a layer of dried blood, and we were so exhausted that we just. Slept. No nightmares, just sleep.

When I groggily stirred to attention, it was already three in the afternoon. I shook Neville tiredly and he slowly opened his eyes, looking at me sadly.

“Do you really think they’ll let us stay at school?” he mumbled groggily.

“I don’t know,” I whispered, “I hope so.”

He nodded and gently got up, rubbing his head with his hand groggily. I wrapped my arms tightly around him and squeezed.

“We’re still in the clothes we were in during the battle,” he muttered tiredly.

“Yeah,” I admitted, “Should we change?”

“I suppose,” he shrugged. We dressed in simple street clothes and wandered down to the Great Hall, which was still in something of a shambles, but was better at least than when we had gone to bed.

“Ah, you’re awake,” McGonagall greeted tiredly, in the middle of moving stone back into the castle with magic.

“What’s going on?” I asked softly – there was almost no one around.

“Everyone’s just been in their Common Rooms today,” McGonagall shrugged, “Dumbledore’s been fighting to keep the school open, but it’s not much of a fight.”

“They’re going to close it?” Neville asked, his voice shrill with worry.

“Definitely not,” McGonagall shook her head, “Mr. Potter’s speech was published in the Quibbler this morning and everyone’s been reading it. They’re not going to close the school after that.”

I looked over at Neville in surprise, and he back at me.

“Miss Lovegood transcribed it as he was saying it. Seems to have done the trick,” McGonagall shrugged, “You two don’t have to help… I know you were… well, I don’t know how close you were to them, but the three students who died –“

“We knew them well enough,” I whispered.

“What were some of the other casualties, professor?” Neville asked nervously.

“Well, Mr. Macmillan was badly injured, and lost a lot of blood,” McGonagall sighed, “Luckily Mr. Lee patched it up pretty quickly. Miss Granger received a wound in her leg that made her walk with a limp… seems to have fractured some of the bone… as you know, Miss Johnson, you got knocked unconscious with a club… Mr. Potter was stunned for a little while there… Mr. Weasley got badly burnt… Professor Lupin was also burnt… Professor Black received a broken leg… Mr. Malfoy was gravely injured by some curses –“

“ _Malfoy_?” Neville and I gasped in unison.

“Yes,” McGonagall raised an eyebrow, “They were fairly indiscriminant in which Hogwarts Students they attacked.”

I frowned, but didn’t say anything more.

“At any rate, you both best just relax – I wouldn’t expect anything of you today –“ McGonagall looked up in worry as Professor Flitwick came running into the room.

“Is cleanup of the Ravenclaw Tower not going well, Filius? Last we talked –“

“No, no, that’s all well and good – Dumbledore just received word –“ Flitwick panted, clearly out of breath as he leaned against his knees.

“What happened _now_?” McGonagall shrieked.

“Mr. Potter’s speech happened –“

“What –“

“They read it, and – well, as we know, a small fraction of the protestors torched the Ministry last weekend,” Flitwick swallowed.

“Yes?” McGonagall asked.

“Well, now – a _majority_ of the people aligned with the Teenagers Rebellion have – have – they’re rioting in the streets _everywhere_ ,” Flitwick whispered.

“You’ve got to be bloody kidding me,” McGonagall uncharacteristically groaned.

“Sadly I’m not,” Flitwick bemoaned, “They’re protesting in all of the streets, there are riots everywhere – the Ministry is having trouble controlling them –“

“Are they going to be thrown in jail again?” I shrieked.

“No, the Ministry can’t arrest that many people and put them in Azkaban, they simply don’t have enough Dementors – at least, that’s what Dumbledore’s saying –“ Flitwick reassured.

“It’s just unrest and chaos, then?” Neville whispered.

“Honestly Longbottom, what else is new?” McGonagall groaned.

“But what’s going to happen to the leaders? The people who were in Azkaban last time?” I demanded.

“I don’t think much of anything – they’re blending in with the rest of the crowd, according to Dumbledore, and again, they _can’t arrest everyone_. I don’t have any more information than this,” McGonagall shook her head sadly, “Seriously, you two – get some rest –“

“We’ve only _been_ resting,” Neville grumbled.

“Miss Johnson got knocked unconscious! She, at least, should be in bed!” McGonagall shrieked. I raised an eyebrow at her, though it was true my head was kind of throbbing.

“I’m sorry,” she sighed deeply, “I’m just – I’m sorry. Please go take care of yourselves.”

“Alright,” I nodded, going back upstairs without another protest, Neville following closely. I crawled into bed and rested my head against the pillow, though I didn’t feel much like sleeping.

“Why do you think she was freaking out?” I asked quietly. Neville shrugged, crawling in with me and staring at the ceiling.

“I dunno. I think she might have been there when you got hit, but I’m not sure.”

“Oh,” I murmured, “Were you?”

“No – I was still in the castle – I was horrified when I saw them carry you away…” Neville swallowed heavily. I looked at him in concern.

“Nev?” I asked softly.

“I was filled with a lot of regret,” he finally choked out, his voice wavering slightly, “I thought you were dead, and I was filled with a lot of regret.”

“Sweetie,” I murmured worriedly.

“I was on the precipice of breaking down – I was trying so hard to contain it, but – if Hermione hadn’t run to me and reassured me you were alive I would have –“ Neville took in a long, shaking breath.

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered.

“It’s not your fault,” he shook his head, “But I can only imagine how terrible it was for McGonagall – she was carrying you – I can only assume she saw you get hit –“

“Yeah,” I nodded, swallowing heavily.

“You got hit with a _giant club_. If you hadn’t been a dragon you probably would have died,” Neville whispered.

“Good thing I was a dragon then,” I joked. He looked at me for a minute before rolling his eyes.

“Yes, good thing, that,” he finally responded, “I just… Mags… I don’t want… I don’t want us to miss out on everything. I don’t. I don’t want one of us to die in battle and we haven’t…”

“How do you propose we insure against that?” I murmured.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, “We can’t have kids, we can’t do any of the other adult things that couples do that we may or may not want to like marriage, we can’t go looking for Draco prima, we can’t really focus on the sciences either for that matter – not more than we’re doing for our research projects, we can’t… we’re not ready for sex yet, we can’t –“

“I’m sorry about that,” I murmured.

“Why in the name of Merlin’s beard are you sorry? It’s me too,” Neville raised an eyebrow.

“It’s mostly me –“

“No, it’s really not.”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Umbridge.”

“Oh,” I whispered, before I felt a crushing weight on my heart and chest and shoulders, “Oh.”

“Sorry – sorry – Mags don’t – don’t spiral, Mags,” Neville begged.

“I’m so sorry – I’m such a self centered –“

“You’re not, love, please,” Neville insisted, “Love, I don’t talk about it _precisely_ because what you went through was worse, and –“

“She _tortured you_ and –“

“And he actually raped you _and_ emotionally abused you! Mags, it’s not a contest –“

“Okay,” I whispered, much too emotionally tired to continue, “I’m sorry I didn’t think of it. Of course you would be just as hesitant.”

“Yeah, I’m not ready either, especially since I remembered it,” Neville swallowed heavily, “I still need some time.”

“Can you… can you tell me… what happened?” I asked quietly. He looked at me for a long time, tears flooding his eyes. I immediately leapt for him and kissed them away, unable to stop myself.

 “I don’t know,” he whispered.

“I’m sorry, forget I asked –“

“It’s not fair, you told me what happened to you –“

“But not like, the _details_ ,” I shook my head rapidly, “I had no right to ask –“

“It was a threat, not rape, Mags,” Neville reminded.

“It was still traumatic enough that you blocked it out,” I murmured.

“Well it happened the same day as she cut my hair, so –“

“Oh my _god_ ,” I whispered, and my heart clenched so tightly that I couldn’t stop myself from throwing my arms more tightly around him. He mumbled into my shoulder but I just hugged him as tightly as I could as the raptors played about on the floor, though Blue probably smelled Neville’s distress and got up onto the bed to cuddle with him almost instantly after I started squeezing him to death.

“Mags, I’d never ask you to describe what George did to you in full, but it’s not the same as –“ Neville continued.

“It is _exactly_ the same, well, okay, it’s _very close_ , and I can’t hold you to a different standard than you do for me,” I shook my head madly.

“Umbridge –“

“No!”

We stared at each other for a while, him trying to tell me, me trying to stop him. He then leaned in and held my face in his hands tightly, pulling me in for a long kiss that left me breathless as Blue squeaked with surprise.

“Mags, please let me tell you,” Neville murmured.

“Are you sure?” I begged, “I’m not sure I can tell you.”

“You don’t have to,” Neville shook his head slowly.

“But –“

“You don’t.”

I sat back and watched him, tears filling my eyes as I reached to caress his cheek lovingly. He sighed into my touch and scritchled Blue, and Deena was in his lap now and the other three were curled around me, so he was completely at ease –

How did getting surrounded by deadly raptors equal completely at ease?

At any rate, he was. He kissed me again, much more softly and gently, before taking a long a deep breath.

“She made me do the usual hand cutting open nonsense,” Neville whispered, his voice very quiet and hoarse, “When she saw I barely was paying attention, really, she decided that wasn’t enough. She put the body binding curse on me and cut off all my hair while sitting on top of me.”

“Bloody –“

“Please let me finish, Mags,” Neville begged. I nodded and he continued, “When she had finished, she told me not to cry because boys don’t cry. I then shouted that I wasn’t a boy… she got very angry… started…” Neville began sobbing horrifically, his breaths coming in in short, quick gasps as he had trouble regaining control of his lungs.

“Nev?” I whispered, reaching for him and holding his arm tightly.

“I – I’m fine. She – she – she took off all of her clothes and put me under the body bind curse, and she threatened to rape me, and then she straddled me, and then got off and let me go,” Neville said it all very fast.

I was so horrified I was speechless.

“Mags?” Neville asked, looking terrified, “Mags – please – say something –“

“Nev,” I whispered, my voice breaking so much that the sobs that followed were unavoidable. I grabbed him in my arms and held him as tightly to me as I could, refusing to let go. She would have followed up on that threat, too. If Ernie was any indication – she would have followed up on that threat. I squeezed him as tightly as possible and sobbed, horrified that I hadn’t been able to protect him from this.

“Nev,” I repeated, and he was sobbing into my arms now as I sobbed into his, his body shaking with emotion as he did so. He looked up at me and sniffled, his face red and puffy.

“Nev,” I said a third time, gathering up all of my courage.

~~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~****~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“George taunted me, saying that I didn’t actually love him – saying that I loved you. He then insisted that sex would be fun –“

“Mags, please –“

“He pinned me down on the chairs, kind of, but also the table –“

“Mags, I –“

“He ripped off my sweatshirt and hurt my neck doing it, it obviously wasn’t gentle and it pulled really hard, and then took off the rest of my clothes roughly and painfully, and he was so drunk he wasn’t even really _moving_ , he just kind of was on top of me and was a deadweight so I couldn’t get him off, and he just pulled off his pants and – yeah – and it hurt _so much_ I just kind of lay there and prayed it would end – and then he got dressed and left, saying ‘wasn’t that fun,’ and then I went back upstairs and took a shower and stared at the ceiling until the morning,” I finished.

Neville was weeping openly, “Oh Mags, you didn’t have to tell me that –“

“It was only fair,” I murmured, though I was crying too, my heart clenching so hard I could barely breathe.

“No, it wasn’t, and I’m not – not sure – that I – needed or wanted to know that,” he managed to gasp out, still sobbing horrifically.

“Oh,” I whispered, now feeling horrified, “I’m – I’m s-s-sorry –“

~~~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~****~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~~*~*

“No it’s okay, I’m – oh god Mags,” Neville wept, and he pulled me into his arms and we cried together for a long, long time, not really saying anything more about the guilt – we just cried, and eventually I found myself out of tears, resting sleepily on top of him and sniffling as my sobs slowed. He was doing much the same.

“I’m so sorry he trapped you like that,” he murmured softly.

“I’m so sorry she trapped you like that,” I insisted.

“We’re okay. We’re here, we’re okay, and _we’re_ certainly not treating each other like that, and dammit we’re adults, so if someone in power over us tries to do that we’ll just kick their fucking asses now, so –“ Neville rambled. I giggled and hiccupped, kissing him lightly on the cheek.

“Thank you love,” I murmured.

“You’re welcome,” he looked at me sadly, “But yeah. We’re not ready. And won’t be for a while.”

“I’m getting there,” I whispered, “I promise.”

“Same,” Neville paused, frowning, “Maybe we should have some sort of code? For when we feel ready to try?”

“Like our feeling vegetarian thing?” I grinned, somehow able to do so. He grinned back, albeit weakly.

“Exactly – er – like,” Neville frowned, “Well, the only reason we’re kind of… we kind of feel like we’re on a clock, you know? So we’re – well I am anyway – obsessed with knowing when I’ll be ready, because we might not have enough time to really –“

“Yeah, to get used to it like we’d want,” I agreed, “I’m a little obsessed too…”

“So… er… eventually we’re going to have to just bit the bullet then, and realize that we could die any day – any _second_ , and –“

“Seize the day?” I laughed weakly.

“Carpe diem?” Neville offered quietly. I nodded in agreement.

“Carpe diem,” I murmured, “We can say that together and we’ll know we’re going to try.”

“And we can back out at any time –“ Neville continued.

“Definitely. We could be in the middle of the thing and if one of us isn’t comfortable –“

“Exactly,” Neville kissed my forehead lovingly, “Exactly.”

“I’m glad we can have a peaceful, open discussion on this,” I smiled slightly. He laughed weakly.

“Once we laid out all of our deep personal issues on the table, yes,” Neville murmured.

“Still, being able to talk about this at all is not a bad thing,” I mumbled.

“No, it’s not,” Neville agreed, “I just – my rage and need to hurt the bastard has peaked again –“

“So has mine, for the toad –“

“I suppose that’s only to be expected,” Neville admitted. I nodded in agreement.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured again. I leaned in and kissed him very softly, my lips pressing up against his in reassurance before pulling back.

“I’m sorry too, Nev,” I mumbled, “But I’m glad I know.”

“I’m… I think I’ll be glad I know,” Neville paused, “I’m not sure yet.”

“Well, I’m glad I told you, so,” I took in a shaking breath.

“Then I’m glad you told me,” Neville responded firmly.

“I think I needed to say – all of it – out loud –“

“I think that’s fair,” Neville agreed.

“I’m sorry I burdened you with that –“

“I’m happy to be that person for you, Mags.”

I smiled weakly at him, “Yeah, and then your mind breaks too.”

“Eh, I’m used to it by now,” he joked. I shook my head mournfully, kissing him lovingly on the cheek and resting up against him again.

“One day I’ll make all of this up to you, I promise,” I mumbled.

“Well, you don’t have to,” Neville paused, “But I won’t deter you.”

We spent the rest of that day relaxing and holding each other, as McGonagall ordered; it _was_ probably good for me, especially after that horrifying conversation. And it definitely felt good to relax with him, after such a stressful and tense week.

That Friday, Neville was swamped, helping Ginny prepare for the Pride Parade in Diagon Alley. It wouldn’t be a huge affair, but she needed help finalizing everything, and since he ran the club, it was his job. And so I sat in the Room of Requirement, reading a book and enjoying the solitude. Occasionally a DA member or two would come in and chit chat, but mostly I was left to my own devices, the Flock playing in a corner of the room and enjoying a change in scenery.

Well, they probably saw plenty of changes in scenery, since apparently they could open doors – was there such a thing as a raptor-proof lock, because I needed one –

The door to the Room opened and I looked up to see Harry walking in, looking troubled – but he hardly ever didn’t these days.

“Hey,” I greeted cautiously, especially since he also _greeted_ everyone with vitriol lately.

“Hey,” he responded equally cautiously, visibly swallowing, “Er – you just reading in here, or –“

“Yeah, but you can stay,” I offered.

“Er, I dunno,” Harry lamented.

“Harry,” I responded sharply, “You know what happens when you don’t talk to someone about shite for a while.”

“Yeah,” Harry groaned, sitting down across from me, “I just… sorry.”

“What’s up?” I asked.

“Hermione,” he bemoaned. I groaned louder.

“I don’t like fighting with her all the time – I don’t like it at all – I – it’s not how we are with each other, it’s so frustrating –“ Harry grumbled.

“Harry, you know it’s because you’ve been acting _weird_ around her and she doesn’t know why,” I sighed, “She’s been mad at you for a _real, tangible reason_ that you can _very easily fix_ if you’re just _honest_ with her –“

“How am I supposed to do that, when every day I’m reminded of how dangerous this all is?” Harry demanded, “I can’t.”

“You’re being ridiculous!”

“Look, you’re not changing my mind on this, so – I made a mistake at the party. I should have remembered that actively choosing to protect her meant that I couldn’t be with her. That was my mistake. I want to regain her friendship, and I have no idea how to do that,” Harry stated firmly.

“I don’t know either,” I frowned, “You’re acting weird around her, Harry, and I don’t see that going away without having a conversation about all this.”

“Then if the price of protecting her is… is… letting her go, then I guess that’s what I’ll do,” Harry’s voice visibly _choked_ , which was so startlingly it actually made my heart clench.

“Harry this is _stupid_ , it’s just bringing the both of you pain –“

“Her dying would bring me more pain –“

“I don’t care! The price of great love is great misery when one of you dies!” I shouted, “You’re just denying yourself happiness! I dread – dread with every fibre of my being – Neville dying, but I am _so much more glad_ I got to have time _with_ him before that – regardless of the risks!”

Harry just shook his head firmly, “I’d never forgive myself.”

“Bloody hell – at least let _her_ have a say!” I insisted.

Harry swallowed heavily and buried his face in his arms. I could see he was visibly shaking, and I reached out for him immediately, my heart clenching slightly again at the sight.

“She’ll choose to be with me, and I’ll lose her,” he whispered.

“Harry –“

“Please just… Please,” he begged.

“Harry, I don’t want you to spend the rest of your lives unhappy. Please just talk to her.”

“Maybe,” he admitted, “Okay. Maybe. I – I certainly want to patch things up – I can’t stand fighting with her all the time.”

“Good,” I nodded, “How have other things been?”

He laughed weakly, rolling his eyes.

“What? I’m sick of talking about it,” I swallowed, “I think the solution is obvious and you both are being idiots. You more so than her.”

“Thanks for that,” Harry grumbled.

“Just being honest,” I shrugged, “I expect the same from you.”

“Fair enough,” Harry paused, “Well, as I’m sure you know, Malfoy nearly died in the battle –“

“ _So close_ to freedom,” I joked.

“Ha ha,” Harry responded sarcastically, “Honestly I think Neville might be on to something.”

“Oh _bloody hell_ , not _you too_ –“

“He seems extremely stressed, Maggie!” Harry shook his head madly, “Frankly, I think nearly dying in the battle – getting attacked like any other Hogwarts student – shook him up! I think he thought they would have recognized him… or maybe they _did_ , and they didn’t help him – either way – I think – his faith might be wavering.”

“Alright,” I paused, “Suppose I bought that. What did you do?”

“I didn’t – okay I tried talking to him,” Harry admitted mid-lie.

“Oh _bloody hell_ –“

“Imagine if he told us what he knows!”

“Yes, to your dead corpse after he kills you –“

“You’d have a point with Neville, but come on, if he kills me Voldy pants will be _furious_ – I’m _his_ kill, remember?”

“I… fair,” I admitted, “What did you even do?”

“I admit I cornered him which I should not have,” Harry responded sheepishly, “But I wanted to get him to _talk_ to me.”

“I suppose that went as well as expected?” I snorted.

“He pushed past me and threatened to attack me,” Harry admitted, “Ah well.”

“There was an attempt,” I joked.

“I’ll try again, longer after the battle – when he’s had time to think,” Harry nodded firmly.

“And it will go equally as well,” I rolled my eyes.

“Oh ye of little faith –“

“Are you and Neville just _forgetting_ how much of a _douchecanoe_ he was? For our _whole lives_?” I shrieked.

“No –“

“Then I don’t understand the logic!”

“I’m thinking strategically. He’s thinking compassionately which, I’d like to point out, is one of the things you love about him,” Harry rolled his eyes.

“I just don’t want to see him get killed,” I muttered.

“I think he’ll be fine, especially since I’m helping now,” Harry nodded.

“Alright,” I sighed, but I was still mostly less than convinced. He stared at me for a minute.

“Do you guys want to leave?” Harry asked softly. I felt my entire body snap to attention.

“What –“

“I mean it. Do you guys want to run?” he asked.

“Harry, how is that a fair question?”

“I’m not asking it accusatorily – I’m not in that bad of a place again,” Harry shook his head, “I mean – you two are so – this must be horrifying for you.”

“The instinct is there,” I admitted, “But we’re fighting it.”

“I’m so sorry,” Harry whispered, “I wouldn’t blame you if you ran.”

“What –“

“This is intimately tied to my life. I can’t escape it. But you two – oh Maggie, do you realize how much I _want_ the three of you to run? I want the three of you to have the long, happy lives you bloody well _deserve_ – and I – I want Hermione to change the world. I want you and Neville to find that dragon thing and to have a bunch of little babies. I want you all to grow old and be happy. And if you die, that’s _my_ –“

“No, it’s not, Harry,” I shook my head, “We joined up with you willingly. We believe in you, and what you’re doing. And dammit, we’re going to do our best to survive anyway, because we want to live too – and we want _you_ to grow old and be happy _with_ us.”

“Thanks,” Harry sighed, “I doubt it though.”

“Well let’s _enjoy_ the time we have, then, and stop being _idiots_ ,” I smirked.

“Oh bloody hell, we’ve come full circle –“

“My position stands!”

“You’re going to be the death of me –“

“Good!”

We laughed for a long while, and then he pulled out homework and we worked together in comfortable silence.

And then the next day there was the Pride Parade – Harry, obviously, did not come along, though Hermione did, acting _very_ cheerful due to his absence. We didn’t use the bus, but rather just took the Floo, even though there were a lot of us – I didn’t want it to seem like I was doing a rebellion activity.

“So what’s going to happen?” I asked Ginny, grinning as we walked to Hogsmeade.

“We’re just going to go through Diagon Alley – should be fun,” Ginny beamed back, “I’m looking forward to being as gay as possible.”

“But you’re bi?” Neville asked, laughing. Ginny was decked out in entirely rainbow clothing, which was _hilarious_ – for many, many reasons.

“It’s not _my_ fault straight people don’t think that bisexuality exists,” Ginny laughed, “Do you realize I’ve had multiple people ask me why my sexuality has changed now that I’m dating Nadia instead of another dude?”

“Bloody hell,” I groaned.

“Let’s not dwell on such terrible things today,” Neville shook his head, “We’re _celebrating_!”

“Exactly, and I’m celebrating my unabashed non-heterosexuality,” Ginny nodded furiously.

“What is this, now?” Nadia asked, grinning and coming over to kiss Ginny. She was slowly getting used to not talking to her parents, though it was rough – her appearance was definitely less put together than it had been before.

“Ginny’s being the ultra-queer,” I rolled my eyes.

“So normal Saturday,” Nadia joked. Ginny flicked her, but grinned happily.

“What’s going on in the rebellion, by the way?” Ginny asked, “I haven’t heard much news.”

“The riots are quieting, but the Ministry is pissed,” I admitted, “According to McGonagall, people in _general_ are kinda getting pissed – those that weren’t a fan of the revolution before, are starting to get restless and upset with all of the disturbances.”

“Will they quiet down, then?” Nadia asked worriedly as we reached the Three Broomsticks.

“Not sure,” I admitted, “On the one hand, safety –“

“On the other hand, momentum,” Neville finished.

“Well, it’ll be up to them. While we’re associated, we can’t seem like we’re controlling them – the Ministry will come after _us_ ,” Ginny groaned.

“Exactly,” Neville sighed, “We’re kind of stuck.”

“Keep making speeches, next weekend again?” Nadia offered.

“Yeah, have fun without me guys,” I laughed as we went through the floo.

“I really wish you hadn’t basically sacrificed yourself,” Nadia lamented.

“It’s done now,” Neville stated firmly, “Let’s stop attacking her for it.”

“But why would we let my sister off the hook ever?” Elena joked, walking up behind us.

“Because kindness is a virtue,” I stuck my tongue out at her.

“Kindness, maybe, but letting others remain stupid is not a kindness,” Elenea rolled her eyes.

“Leave your sister alone,” Neville shook his head.

“You’re not my real dad!” Elena joked.

“Nope, he’s dead,” I frowned at her.

“Was that a joke or a scolding?” Elena raised an eyebrow.

“Not entirely sure,” I admitted.

“Both is good,” Nadia giggled.

“Well we’re here – I’ll organize everyone,” Ginny sighed, “Alright guys!”

Everyone in the group turned to look at her as Tom the Barkeep grumbled at his station.

“We’re just walking up Diagaon Alley – do we have the banners?” she asked.

“Got ‘em!” Sam and Dean cheered.

“Do we have the floats –“

“Right here!” Luna beamed, pointing at strange, rainbowed contraptions.

“Does someone have the definitions signs?” Ginny asked nervously.

“Don’t _worry_ , Ginny, we have everything,” Susan smiled, holding up the signs with the different label definitions.

“Great,” Ginny grinned, “Music?”

“Got it covered,” Valerie nodded in a very businesslike fashion, “I have the phonograph ready and everything.”

“Wonderful. Let’s get out there! We’ll just go up and down the street a few times, it _is_ a bit short,” Ginny nodded. I gathered in with the crowd, standing with Dean as he held up a multisexuality banner, just blending in. People from Diagon Alley came out to watch the spectacle as we wandered up the street, but most everyone appeared to be friendly, laughing and enjoying as we goofed off and cheered and sang along to songs with each other.

On the magical float in the front of the parade, Ernie and Ron were holding a fake sort of vote on who was the Ultra-Queer – and mid way through Maria butted in, claiming that _she_ , in fact, was. Everyone else was laughing as the three of them fought together, and we turned around when we reached Gringotts to walk back down the street again, enjoying the fun and lightheartedness that decidedly _wasn’t_ the character of the past few weeks. Everything was rainbow, and everything was _very_ gay, and I wrapped my arms around Dean and Neville’s shoulders as we walked, laughing together behind the banner saying WHY ONLY BE ATTRACTED TO ONE GENDER WHEN YOU CAN BE ATTRACTED TO _MORE_ , which glistened brightly in the early November sunlight. Elena and Claire were both behind the banner for lesbians, and the small group of girls were all laughing and talking and singing along with the phonograph. Hermione and the other ace individuals were chanting, “ _WHO NEEDS SEX TO HAVE A GOOD TIME?_ ” and it was quite hilarious because honestly I couldn’t remember the last time Hermione had said the word _sex_ – sure, within other words, but not on its own.

We got back to the Leaky Cauldron and turned about again, all laughing and talking and chanting together.

“We shall thus put it to you all, the people of Diagon Alley!” Ernie shouted.

“Yes – clearly we cannot solve this ourselves!” Maria agreed.

“It’s up to you, please, tell us who wins the title of Ultra Queer,” Ron snorted.

“Do you really want to proudly say that?”

We all turned to see someone coming out to the middle of the street – an older man, looking rather disgruntled.

“Since this is a _pride_ parade –“ Ron frowned.

“You kids have uprooted everything in our society. You have destroyed everything we have built, for years,” the man sneered.

“Have you ever thought –“ Ernie began, looking nervous.

“ _NO!_ ” the man interrupted, “No, you – you girl!”

Ernie looked horrified and like was going to be sick. I immediately began to push my way to the float, Sam and Neville following close behind me.

“It is _my_ turn to speak! And I’m speaking!” the man shouted, “And you now bring this _nonsense_ into our streets! You reveal that the Ministry has been covering up your debauchery for years, and rather than shamefully return to secrecy, you _shove it_ in everyone’s face, you disrupt our days, you –“

“We have every right to celebrate our identities when societal norms are _shoved in our_ faces every damn day!” Maria retorted.

I couldn’t get through the crowd of gay male students – they were all too pushed up against the float, nervously huddling together.

“No one wants you hear, you –“

The slur coming out of the man’s mouth was horrifying and grating against my ears. Sam swore in anger next to me. Neville managed to push himself through the crowd and reach the front of it, facing the man, using his sheer height and weight to bash his way in.

“Listen here, sir,” Neville stated calmly, “This is a peaceful event, that we got permission for, from the Ministry. If you don’t like it, just _bloody go somewhere else_.”

“Why would I go somewhere else when I have a whole _group_ of people who agree with me?” the man laughed. Slowly, from the shops and the sides of the alley, a group of people – not a small group, either – began to join the man.

“Who the hell are you?” Ron asked in shock.

“We are the people who oppose _you_ and your _movement_!” the man shouted.

“We stand with the Ministry! And with order!” another person shouted.

“And if you don’t get off our streets, we’ll make you get off with force!” a third person agreed.

“We have every right to be here, sir, please calm down,” Neville stated in his most soothing voice, as though they were children he was trying to quell from a temper tantrum. Perhaps they were.

“No! Get out of our alley!” the man roared. He pulled out his wand, and Neville only just got his shield charm up in time – the crowd of Ministry supporters began attacking the parade, and everyone scattered, shouting and shrieking in fright.

“EVERYONE!” Ginny screamed, “BACK TO THE LEAKY CAULDRON!”

I ran forward, grabbing Neville by the arm to pull him away from dueling – it wasn’t worth it. He nodded and ran with me, gripping my arm tightly in his as we ran back towards the pub. People began gathering inside and Ginny listed them off as they did so, counting them and making sure everyone was there. I saw Ernie, Sam, and most everyone else run by – and I could see Hermione’s bushy hair in the distance, running up to the entrance of the pub, so she was coming too. But I couldn’t see Elena.

“Has Elena come by?” I asked her in terror, gripping her arm.

“Not yet – but people are still piling in – I’m sure she’s coming!” she tried to reassure while counting people off. Hermione ran up and helped her, looking frazzled and terrified.

“Where’s Elena?” I shouted at Neville, my heart in my throat. He gripped my shoulders tightly and frowned at me.

“She’s coming, don’t worry, she’d have run, she’s smart,” Neville reassured, reaching and stroking my hair.

“Where is she? Where is she?” I shrieked, panicking more and more as almost all the students filed in and started even taking the Floo back to the Three Broomsticks.

_I can’t lose my sister, she’s one of the last people I have left –_

“Have you seen Elena?”

I turned in a panic to see Claire, looking terrified and white-faced.

“I – she’s not with you?” I practically screamed.

“No, I thought she had run ahead, I was fighting them off – oh no, oh no, oh no!” Claire began sobbing, holding her face in her hands and shaking from head to foot.

_Not my sister, not my sister, not my sister, not my sister –_

“Alright, I’m going to go look – “ Hermione stated.

“No, I’ll go, she’s my sister –“ I shook my head.

“You’re freaking out, I should go!” Hermione insisted. Claire, however, was already running back outside.

“Fuck –“ I shouted, running after her in a panic. She was still underage, and could get in a _lot_ of trouble if she kept using magic.

“Claire! Wait!” I begged, chasing her out of the pub. Claire opened up the passage and stumbled into the alley, looking around wildly, her blonde hair out of its usual side braids and flying all over her face.

“ELENA!” she screamed.

“Claire – Claire you’re going to make them come out again –“ I begged, but my heart was still in my throat. The backlash was not in the streets anymore, which was good, but Elena was nowhere to be found.

“ELENA!” Claire screamed again, tears pouring down her face.

_What would mum and dad say? That you lost her?_

I began sobbing myself. Neville ran out and caught up with us, grabbing me in his arms and holding me tightly.

“We’ll find her, she’s here somewhere, we need to get back inside before they come out for us again –“ Neville rushed.

_They’d be so disappointed. They are so disappointed – they would know before you – probably –_

“ELENA!” Claire begged.

“We have to _go_!” Neville insisted.

“ELENA!” I now screamed, pulling at my hair with worry.

“She’s here!”

I felt my entire body flood with relief as Valerie came out from one of the shops, her clothes torn and her face scratched up, carrying Elena – who was very, very much limp.

“ELENA!” Claire and I screamed in unison.

“It’s alright, she’s just unconscious!” Valerie reassured, “She’s just unconscious – she’s going to be okay.”

Claire burst into tears and fell to the ground, holding her face in her hands. I also started crying with relief, burying my face in Neville’s chest.

“What are we waiting for?” Valerie snapped, shifting Elena’s weight in her arms, “Let’s go!”

Neville grabbed Claire from the ground and we sprinted, just as people began to move back into the Alley – I didn’t know if they were backlash folk or normal people, but we ran harder, our feet pounding into the pavement as we dove into the pub and ran through the Floo before Ginny could even say a word.

I panted on the other side, leaning against the wall and sobbing again, much to my chagrin. Claire was still full on sobbing.

“I’m going to get her to the Hospital Wing – she should be fine, I don’t think the spell was that serious, but –“ Valerie rambled.

“Just go,” Claire begged. Valerie nodded and she ran up back to the castle, the rest of us staying behind. Claire made a move to follow but I held her back.

“We have to regroup with the others here, and she needs to get up there fast,” I muttered. Claire nodded, wiping off her eyes.

“Alright, I’m sorry that was a _disaster_ ,” Ginny groaned, “I honestly had no idea that would happen –“

“It’s okay Ginny,” someone not in the DA shouted in the back.

“Wasn’t your fault – no one could have seen that coming,” Sam nodded, his arm around Ernie’s shoulder as Ernie cried softly, probably post-misgendering.

“Let’s stick to inside Hogwarts events for now, while the political climate is so crappy,” Alex, the leader of the intersex group, agreed.

“Thanks guys,” Ginny sighed, “Who was hurt, besides Elena?”

“Only a few bruises and scrapes,” Nadia reassured, kissing her on the side of her head.

“Good,” Ginny nodded, “Let’s – let’s go back.”

The atmosphere was subdued at best, and clearly depressed at worst – though not Ginny’s fault, the parade _had_ been a disaster.

“I guess the wixen world isn’t as ready for our message as I thought,” Neville murmured sadly.

“Hey,” I reassured, grabbing him by the arm, “Hey. It’s okay. Look at how many people support us at Hogwarts – we’ve never had trouble like this there. There _is_ something to be said for the older generation being more prejudiced.”

“Yeah, too bad in wixen they stay around for _ever_ ,” Neville sighed. I squeezed his hand silently, unable to come up with a reassurance to that.

“We’ll edge them out slowly,” Sam muttered, still holding onto a shaken and upset Ernie, “More young people will be born and raised to respect other people. It’ll eventually end.”

Neville nodded, looking more cheered at that, as we reached the castle. I followed Claire up to the Hospital Wing, Neville close behind.

“Hey guys, you’re back early,” Harry greeted, looking surprised as we all started walking up the stairs.

“We were attacked,” Neville groaned.

“Wait – _what?_ ” Harry demanded. Neville hung back and told him the story as I headed up with Claire, reaching the Hospital Wing and finding Elena lying in one of the beds, Valerie in another getting patched up herself.

“She should be up soon, it really wasn’t bad – I just had to get her out of the way and unfortunately I did not pick a way close to the Leaky Cauldron,” Valerie explained tiredly.

“Thanks,” I sighed, sitting by Elena’s bed.

“I’m – I’m going to go find Kat and Pete and reassure them,” Claire muttered, “They’d want to know.” She looked flushed and embarrassed – probably at being so worried. Valerie watched her go with concern.

Harry soon joined me, and we waited anxiously by Elena’s bed as Valerie got patched up and left.

“I thought I had failed in taking care of her,” I muttered to Harry, looking up at him in sadness.

“You haven’t,” he reassured, “She chose to do this, there was nothing you could have done to stop her.”

“I don’t want to let down mum and dad,” I whispered.

“You haven’t, I promised,” Harry reiterated.

“Thanks,” I murmured. We sat in silence for most of the time, me just holding Elena’s hand and hoping she’d wake up soon. The night grew over the castle and I was so tired after the day’s events that I actually dozed off myself, Harry shaking me awake whenever I did.

When she finally began to stir, I let out ten different breaths that I hadn’t been aware I was holding, and I smiled weakly at her as she opened her eyes.

“What – what’s going on? What happened?” she asked groggily, sitting up and looking around in confusion.

“You got hit with some spells during the attack,” I murmured, “You’re fine, but we all had to flee.”

“That’s horrifying,” Elena groaned, “Stupid bigots.”

“Yeah,” I whispered.

“Maggie is horrified that she almost lost you and let down Mum and Dad,” Harry explained softly.

“Maggie, I chose to come along,” Elena frowned.

“I know,” I muttered.

“Mum and Dad would be proud that I was _doing_ things, I think,” Elena continued.

“Probably,” I agreed.

“So don’t worry about it – I don’t feel that bad, but I do…” Elena swallowed.

“What?” I asked in worry, Harry nodding next to me.

“I – I remember when I got hit, I think it was a stunner, plus some other spells – I – I thought of some things – er – can I leave now, or am I stuck here?” Elena asked.

“Not sure – Madam Pomfrey!” Harry called. She quickly walked out and checked on Elena hurriedly.

“Can I go? I’d like to go now,” Elena begged in a rush. Madam Pomfrey frowned.

“Well, I’d like to check on you again, but I don’t see why you have to stay here for that. Just take it easy,” she ordered. Elena immediately got out of bed and hurried out of the Wing, much to Pomfrey’s distaste.

Harry and I followed her down to the Great Hall, where she looked around wildly. Everyone was sitting down to dinner and Neville and Hermione got up to greet us – I was surprised Hermione did, but nothing like near-death to make people not be stupid – as Elena immediately left without a word and went to the Slytherin Table.

“Claire!” she shouted. Claire got up immediately and ran to her, hugging her tightly, which was heartwarming –

“Claire, I nearly died,” Elena stated calmly.

“I know,” Claire whispered, and the entire hall actually fell _silent_ , already fairly subdued after the attack on the castle _and_ an attack on a major group of students.

“Claire, I nearly died, and I never – I never told you how I felt,” Elena visibly swallowed.

You could hear a _pin_ drop on the floor of the _Great Hall_.

“I – wh-what?” Claire stammered, looking nervous and shocked, not a usual expression for her.

“I don’t want to be like my siblings. I don’t want to be an idiot. Claire, I like you,” Elena stated calmly, now looking terrified as she continued, “Do you like me?”

“I – yes,” Claire gasped, looking so overwhelmed that I was surprised she had the wherewithal to grab Elena’s face in her hands and kiss her.

A large, _large_ portion of the Great Hall burst into cheers – some, undoubtedly, were just rooting for the pair of them – but others must have been cheered to see such a happy display amongst all of the _terribleness_.

As Claire and Elena snogged for longer than I was comfortable watching, Hermione turned to me and Harry with a frown.

“Sibling ** _s_**?” she asked, emphasizing the plural and pursing her lips together into a fine line.

Harry immediately began stammering horrifically, looking flustered.

“What does she mean by _siblings_?” Hermione repeated, now starting to look angry at Harry’s lack of response, “I know that Maggie was an idiot with Neville –“

“I freely admit it,” I shrugged, looking at Neville in terror. Neville looked back at me with a similar expression.

“But what does she mean about _you_ being an idiot?” Hermione threw at Harry.

Harry stammered for a long time as the Great Hall returned to normal – well, Elena and Claire were nowhere to be found, probably going somewhere to snog in private, which again, not a thought I needed to have – and finally Harry looked over at me, swallowing heavily, before turning back to Hermione.

“We shouldn’t be talking about this,” Harry stated firmly.

“ _What?_ ”

“We shouldn’t be, it’s not the time,” Harry reiterated.

“You are going to bloody well tell me what you’re on about, Harry Potter, and you’re going to do it _now_. You’ve been acting moody and angry for _weeks_ , and I understand you have BPD, but you’ve been taking it out on _me_ most of all, and I do _not_ deserve it, dammit!” Hermione shouted. People started to notice the confrontation and Neville dragged the pair of them out into the Entrance Hall, me following quickly and closing the doors behind me.

“Hermione –“ Harry groaned.

“Mate, stop it,” Neville ordered, “Just, stop.”

Harry looked at me again and I nodded in agreement with Neville. Hermione looked like she was about to _explode_.

“Hermione, I don’t want to worry about romance during the war,” Harry finally stated softly.

“What the – why – what?” Hermione questioned, frowning.

“I don’t. I don’t want to – Hermione I –“ Harry stammered.

“Get it out!” Hermione insisted, so furious that the heat was radiating onto me.

“I love you, okay!” Harry finally stated. Hermione looked like she had just been punched in the face. Neville’s jaw dropped open in shock.

“My god, you could have built up to that!” I shouted.

“No I couldn’t have – at any rate, I just, I’ve been acting weird because I care so deeply about you, Hermione, but I don’t – I don’t think we should be together during the war – I – they would target you for being my girlfriend, and – and – I’d blame myself forever if –“

“YOU LISTEN HERE, HARRY POTTER,” Hermione screamed. Harry looked startled.

“YOU DON’T TELL ME HOW YOU FEEL, YOU LEAVE ME IN THE LURCH FOR MONTHS, YOU FIGHT WITH ME AND MAKE ME FEEL LIKE YOU _HATE_ ME, SOMETIMES – YOU’RE RUDE – YOU’RE CONTROLLING – AND YOU DECIDE THINGS ABOUT MY FUTURE WITHOUT CONSULTING WITH ME – AND THEN YOU DON’T TELL ME ANY OF THIS UNTIL YOU _HAVE_ TO, BECAUSE YOU’RE _FORCED_ TO, AND THEN YOU JUST – YOU JUST – YOU JUST DROP IT ON ME? LIKE AN ANVIL ON MY HEAD? HOW _DARE_ YOU!” Hermione screamed.

Neville’s expression was one emotion: I told you so.

Harry’s was only heartbreak and regret.

“WHY DIDN’T I GET A SAY, HARRY? WHY DIDN’T I?” Hermione roared.

“I – I’m sorry –“ Harry whispered, his voice so hoarse I could barely hear it.

“I DON’T CARE THAT THEY WOULD COME AFTER ME! THEY’D COME AFTER ME ANYWAY, I’M ALREADY IN DANGER BECAUSE I’M LEADING A RESISTANCE MOVEMENT, YOU _DUNCE_ ,” Hermione screamed, “YOU ARE A COMPLETE AND UTTER IDIOT, HARRY POTTER!”

“I – I am,” Harry agreed, now even more regretful and heartbroken in his every movement and inflection.

“DAMMIT, YOU SAY YOU LOVE ME – WELL THAT’S TERRIBLE FOR YOU HARRY. _I_ DON’T KNOW IF _I_ LOVE _YOU_ , ANYMORE,” Hermione screamed, “SINCE _APPARENTLY_ YOU KNEW AND DIDN’T _DO_ ANYTHING ABOUT IT – NOW YOU GET TO FEEL HOW I’VE FELT FOR _YEARS_ , YOU _PRICK_!”

“Hermione –“ Harry whispered, looking horrified now in addition to everything else.

Hermione didn’t say anything more, just stomped up to the Gryffindor Tower. Harry watched her go in horror, tears now streaming from his eyes. He didn’t turn back to us, or say anything more – he just turned and left to go outside, his shoulders hunched and his face in his hands.

“Holy shite,” I whispered.

“Is it sad that I saw that coming?” Neville replied.

“No, but I still hoped for something better than that,” I agreed.

“It can’t last forever, can it?” Neville begged, looking at me earnestly.

I looked up at the Gryffindor Tower, remembering Hermione’s face during that whole encounter.

“I don’t know, Nev,” I responded honestly, “I really don’t know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for the supportive messages - I didn't have much work to do this week and I actually kind of felt like writing, so here's another chapter. 
> 
> I know, I know, the ending is horrifying - but don't worry - Harmony will happen within the month, and I mean that. I couldn't keep this going for much longer, but Harry couldn't get away with his behavior. 
> 
> Please, please comment and let me know what you think - it's definitely a main motivator (and aid with the whole depression thing) for me. Thanks!


	105. Chapter One Hundred and Four: November 3 - 7, 1996, Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "We’ve been sneaking around   
> But we do it lightly   
> No more middle school tongues   
> If you show up unarmed   
> Be still our beating hearts 
> 
> We’re outside and free from all tethers   
> So get off the floor if you’re under the weather   
> What’s in store is not so unusual   
> The latchkey kids have all come together   
> So unlock the door, it’ll make you feel better   
> If it’s not flesh and blood that leads you on honey   
> Then unlock the door   
> Unlock the door and move on."   
> ~ Silversun Pickups, "Latchley Kids."

Chapter 104: November 3 – 7, 1996, Hogwarts

“Please tell me yesterday was a dream?”

“Nope.”

“Dammit.”

A long period of silence followed that. It was the next day, and Neville and I had spent that Sunday lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, in shock over the previous day’s events.

“Are you sure?”

“Pretty sure.”

“Shite.”

More silence.

“I’m just in shock, honestly.”

“Same, though it was expected.”

“ _Expected_ doesn’t mean _not startling_.”

“Never underestimate the fury of Hermione Granger.”

“ _I’ll_ say.”

Silence again. Now it was getting late in the morning.

“Maybe we both had the dream together? We’re getting so close that our subconscious-es have linked?”

“I doubt it.”

“Come on, why must you ruin it.”

“Because we’re going to have to go down there _eventually_.”

“Bloody hell.”

The raptors were snarling at each other; they must have been hungry.

“Can we just… avoid them?”

“I think they both need us right now.”

“Fuck.”

Blue hopped onto the bed and started wiggling in between us; her usual strategy to get us out of bed in the morning.

“Like, Harry did something wrong, but it was partially fueled by his BPD, you know?”

“Definitely, and she didn’t give him a chance to apologize.”

“I can’t blame her, really. He shouldn’t have thought he knew best.”

“But damn, I can identify with wanting to keep the person you love alive.”

“Same, same – and with his condition –“

“Harry’s at fault, but I think he learned his lesson.”

“Yeah.”

Now the other raptors were on the bed, all curling up with us, probably recognizing that we weren’t getting out any time soon.

“Damn though, Hermione really needed to think a little clearer.”

“Oh definitely – I hope she calms down soon.”

“The longer she doesn’t, the longer she and Harry don’t talk.”

“Oh Merlin...”

Now they were getting agitated, and pulling on us to get out of bed.

“Guess we better wake up, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“I do _not_ want to see what’s going on down there.”

“Best case scenario they’re avoiding each other.”

“Yeah…”

Still, we didn’t move, letting the raptors be annoyed around us.

“Since when was best case scenario our best mates not talking?”

“Since… Hermione and Fred snogged.”

“Dammit, why did she do that?”

“She was lonely.”

“Yeah.”

I started to stretch and get up, holding my head in my hands and sighing.

“Let’s go, Mags, come on,” Neville murmured. I got up with him and we got ready for the day, neither of us ready for what it would bring.

Luckily – or unluckily – it was really hard to decide – they weren’t talking. Harry, in fact, was no where to be seen in the Great Hall; Hermione was sitting with Dean and Seamus, and didn’t appear to be talking.

“Do you think she’s mad at us, too?” Neville asked worriedly.

“I have no idea – go in and immediately start apologizing?” I offered.

“Probably our best bet – oh bloody hell she’s seen us,” Neville groaned as Hermione’s head turned towards us and she started getting up.

“Okay, I’ll fend her off, you run, I’m faster than you –“ I started planning quickly.

“There’s no time,” Neville hissed as Hermione reached us, looking up at us with an expression torn between fury and despair.

“Hermione, we’re really sorry,” I started immediately, nervously running my hand through my hair.

“You see, we chose the lesser of two evils,” Neville began.

“Yeah, we knew you’d get pissed at us for not telling you,” I continued.

“But, you see, we figured that Harry might actually do us physical harm if we had,” Neville continued.

“So that’s – a thing,” I finished, “I’m really sorry.”

“Same,” Neville nodded.

Hermione let out a long sigh.

“I suppose you have a point. I mainly wasn’t coming over here to attack you – I mean – I’m not happy you didn’t tell me,” Hermione stated simply.

“Nor should you be,” I shrugged.

“I was coming over to insist that I do not want to talk to him, I do not want to forgive him, and I don’t think what he did is something I can reconcile,” Hermione stated simply.

“Alright,” Neville nodded, looking remorseful anyway.

“I suppose you two will still be talking to him?” Hermione asked sharply.

“Well, yes,” I shrugged.

“Hermione, we’re not – er, I was going to say teenagers, which is awkward,” Neville groaned.

“We’re functionally adults,” I fixed for him, “And honestly, I don’t want to pick sides here. He fucked up, but we’ve been giving him shit about it the whole time.”

“I think I’ve scolded him more than twenty times,” Neville nodded.

“And you had every right to be mad, and still be mad, but we don’t want to lose our friendship with Harry over this,” I shrugged, “He’s my brother, Hermione, I’m not picking sides.”

“And honestly, with his BPD how it is, I don’t think it would be _good_ for him if we abandoned him,” Neville shuddered. Hermione’s face softened somewhat.

“Yeah, I suppose you have a point. As long as you don’t think what he did was okay,” Hermione repeated.

“Definitely not,” we responded in unison.

“Good. I’m going to go up and get some studying done. I don’t know if – well – I’ll be in the library,” she stated simply, and then she left, and it was so unclear where her mind was that I had never been more confused in my life.

“This is bollocks,” Neville muttered in annoyance.

“We can’t do much about the bollocks,” I sighed.

“Can’t we just force them to snog?” Neville begged, “It worked for us.”

“We weren’t fighting, we were just – damaged,” I pointed out, “We _wanted_ to be together, we just weren’t emotionally ready yet.”

“You’re right,” Neville agreed, “I just – snogging with you was literally the happiest moment of my life, and I just know everything will be alright for them once they just do that.”

I laughed in appreciation, “You’re right, of course, But Hermione is angry, and rightfully so.”

“Should we check on Harry?” Neville sighed.

“Not sure where he is, but yeah,” I agreed sadly.

We wandered up together to the Room of Requirement; he was no where to be found in there. We then went to the Gryffindor Common Room, and no one had seen him there either. There was no way he was in the library; so we wandered out to the grounds together instead. And still, there, he wasn’t anywhere.

“Should we ask Hagrid?” I asked in worry.

“Hagrid’s been right cross with them since they didn’t take Magical Creatures, I don’t think he’d be there,” Neville shook his head.

“Still, he might have seen something,” I shrugged, wandering off to the Hut. I knocked on the door.

“Who is it?” Hagrid called.

“Me and Nev!” I shouted.

“Ah, one mo’,” Hagrid responded. The door opened slowly and Hagrid smiled at us, though not very widely. We filed in, and finally there was Harry – sitting at his table, his head in his arms.

“Harry’s been – er – not at his best,” Hagrid stated simply.

“Oh bloody hell,” Neville sighed.

“We were kind of aware,” I muttered.

“Found ‘im out by the lake, what was it, two in the morning?” Hagrid sighed, “Starin’ out inter the trees. Drinkin’ somethin’ fierce.”

“Did you bring him back to the castle?” I asked in worry.

“No! And have ‘im run into ‘Ermione! Are you mad?” Hagrid demanded, “No, no – let ‘im sleep on my couch. Tried ter get ‘im to sleep off the alcohol but apparently he managed to raid my store while I was patrolling the grounds.”

“Fuck,” Neville groaned, holding his face in his hands.

“Where’d he even get alcohol in the first place? Does he have some sort of stash?” I demanded in surprise.

“I ‘ave no idea,” Hagrid shook his head, “Regardless, right now ‘e’s sleepin’…”

“I’m honestly kind of surprised he’s here, Hagrid,” I said sheepishly.

“Eh,” Hagrid shrugged, “I was bein’ a bit petty, and ‘e needs a friend right now more than a scoldin’.” Hagrid then stared at us sternly, as though we had come to scold him.

“We know!” we responded in unison, me at least feeling defensive, though Neville probably did too.

“We were here to check on him! We figured he wasn’t doing well! We looked _everywhere_ for him!” I continued.

“Seriously, the Common Room, the Room of Requirement, the Grounds – we were getting really worried!” Neville furthered.

“Alrigh’, alrigh’ – I just wanted to make sure. I’m not entirely sure what happen’, based on his drunken ramblings,” Hagried frowned, “But ‘e seems to think ‘e’s at fault.”

“He… kind of is?” Neville offered.

“He finally returns Hermione’s feelings,” I sighed, “But…”

“But?” Hagrid raised an eyebrow.

“He basically decided that being together would make Hermione be more of a target than she already is and refused to talk to her about it or date her, but he would still get jealous and possessive, so he was really rude and mean to her even though she didn’t deserve it, and then he told her last night only because he was kinda trapped into it, and then he dropped it on her without any sort of build up, and so she screamed at him for a long while and basically said she couldn’t love him anymore, and here we are,” I sighed.

“Bloody ‘ell,” Hagrid whispered.

“Yeah, it’s a disaster,” Neville nodded.

“The thing is, is, a lot of that behavior was probably BPD fueled – not wanting to be abandoned, for one, either through death or her getting back together with Fred,” I shook my head, “I think the main problem was that he didn’t _tell her anything_ – communication would have fixed so much of this –“

“Why didn’ you lot get him to talk to her?” Hagrid demanded.

“We tried!” we hissed in unison.

“He wasn’t having any of it!” Neville bemoaned.

“Well – I think Hermione has a right ter be mad right now, but –“ Hagrid began.

“We’re not going to try and make her forgive him,” I shook my head.

 “She definitely has a right to be mad, but he shouldn’t be drinking himself to death,” Neville sighed.

“No,” Hagrid agreed.

“Frankly,” I sighed, “His BPD is terrible right now – has been for a while. I think the stress of the war and everyone getting into danger in the Rebellion is making it worse.”

“Plus this Hermione thing,” Neville agreed.

“Exactly,” I swallowed, “If _anything_ was a valid reason to avoid a relationship it’s _this_ – that he’s _sick_. But of course he didn’t mention that.”

“He needs to recover some, before he tries to talk to her again, especially if she’s still mad – I don’t think he could handle her screaming at him again,” Neville bemoaned.

“Definitely not,” Hagrid sighed, “Well, good ter know you’re here to help ‘im with that – maybe he’ll wake up now, I don’t know.”

I went and sat down next to him at the table. I checked to make sure he was breathing – he was – and I gently shook him. He didn’t respond.

“Water on his head?” Neville offered.

“Let’s not beat a dead horse,” I rolled my eyes. I shook him again, and he moaned into his arms.

“Harry? Harry please wake up,” I murmured softly. He shook his head madly into his arms and groaned again.

“Harry we’re not here to yell at you,” Neville sighed.

“Why?” he moaned faintly from his arms.

“Because you’ve been yelled at enough,” I reassured, “And now you just need help.”

“I don’t deserve help,” he grunted.

“Yeah you do,” Neville sighed again.

“You’re sick,” I agreed.

“So?” Harry mumbled, finally removing his head from his arms, revealing his face for the blotchy mess it was. He looked positively ill; I sighed and ran to wet a washcloth with cold water from the tap as Neville sat down with him.

“So, you being sick means that quite a lot of your actions aren’t really under your control,” Neville stated calmly, “Do you still blame Maggie for trying to walk out on the war when she was in the thick of it two summers ago?”

“No!” Harry shouted, looking horrified and turning back to me, his eyes wide and revealing how blotchy they were, “No, Maggie, no, you must believe me, I don’t –“

“Harry, calm down,” I soothed, bringing over the cloth.

“That was just an example, mate, I’m just saying that we’re applying the same standards of understanding to you, that’s all,” Neville interjected immediately.

“But – but – but I hurt her –“

“Yes, you did,” I admitted, “And we’re not saying you didn’t do anything _wrong_ …”

“We’re just saying that you’ve been punished enough, and now we really need to help you get back to mental health base zero,” Neville smiled weakly.

“Mental health base zero?” Harry croaked.

“Being able to function,” I shrugged.

“I can function just fine,” Harry muttered irritably.

“No you can’t,” Hagrid, Neville and I said in unison.

“You literally have been trying to drink yourself to death,” I stated simply.

“You look like you want to kill yourself,” Neville sighed.

“You were mutterin’ in yer sleep about Hermione, yer mind is _not_ in the righ’ place!” Hagrid agreed.

“But –“ Harry mumbled.

“You aren’t doing okay, Harry, and you need to take care of yourself,” I sighed, “Please, can you trust me on that one? Given that I’m just as screwed up as you are?”

“Hell, I’m screwed up,” Neville shrugged, “Trust me too.”

“Merlin you kids are depressin’,” Hagrid grunted, going back to cleaning up what I could only assume was Harry vomit.

“Things have been only getting worse,” Harry whispered.

“Maybe it’s because of everything with Hermione?” Neville offered sadly.

“That’s not entirely encouraging,” I frowned.

“Well now that they aren’t – in limbo – I guess – he can try and move past it – is what I was thinking?” Neville grimaced awkwardly, clearly realizing what he was suggesting was crap as he said it. In fact, the words made Harry burst into _very_ uncharacteristic tears.

“Fuck,” Neville groaned, “Harry, I’m sorry, I didn’t – I don’t know what I was trying to say.”

“Why not try a new therapist?” I suggested.

“Wha?” Harry asked in confusion.

“I mean, Shae wasn’t working out for me. The thing with therapy is that it’s a relationship – a very specific kind of one but – you need to work well together. Your therapist needs to understand what you need and you need to be able to connect with your therapist. You haven’t been getting better talking to Shae – most other people have, or at least haven’t gotten worse, which you have, which wouldn’t be her fault per say, but just, a sign that she isn’t working. Have you thought about switching?” I explained.

“I… no…” Harry frowned.

“I think you should try Dr. Wilson, mate,” Neville nodded.

“But…” Harry looked upset.

“It’s not a failure on you to switch, it just means the relationship isn’t a match. And who knows, maybe it’s not the therapist – I’ve heard tell of people from Shae who literally go to ten different therapists before coming back to her because they’ve determined that it’s not the relationship that’s the problem, it’s just that they’re doing _awfully_ – but they needed to check,” I shrugged.

“This isn’t you failing, Harry,” Neville reinforced, “We all have different needs. Maggie wasn’t failing when she had to switch to Dr. Wilson.”

“Alright,” Harry sighed, “I don’t know how to tell her that I want to switch, though.”

“Just explain that things haven’t been getting better, and you’d like to try something different,” I smiled reassuringly.

“And she won’t be insulted?” Harry asked.

“Her main goal is the same as yours – getting you well,” Neville shrugged, “She wants to do that as quickly and painlessly as possible. She’s not going to get mad if you have a new idea for it.”

“Doctors don’t get jealous of other doctors for treating a cancer together – okay, good doctors don’t anyway,” I clarified.

“Alright,” Harry mumbled, “I’ll do that then.”

“And for now… maybe you should sleep in the Room of Requirement? She seems to be sticking to the library, and I don’t know where she plans on sleeping but I don’t think you should run into her except for class and other unavoidable situations,” I sighed, “It seems petty, but I just think it would upset _both_ of you too much.”

“What if _she_ tries to sleep in in the room?” Harry asked hoarsely.

“I’ll talk to her tonight and see what her plans are,” Neville promised.

“Thanks,” Harry mumbled, looking horrifically upset.

“This won’t last forever, I promise,” I stated, “Seriously. I won’t _let_ it last forever.”

“And you know she means it,” Neville grinned slightly. Harry managed to chuckle, albeit weakly.

“And hey, we’ll hang out with you in the Room of Requirement all day today, okay?” I offered, “You shouldn’t be alone –“

“Hermione will be mad at you,” Harry whispered softly.

“Nah mate,” Neville shook his head, “And if she is then she’s doing something wrong, not you. You need help and companionship.”

“Thanks guys,” Harry mumbled.

“No problem,” I reaffirmed, “Come on, let’s go up there.”

And so we spent the rest of the day studying in the Room of Requirement – luckily, Hermione never walked in on us that day, probably due to luck more than anything else.

Sadly, though, classes couldn’t be avoided. Harry sat as far away from Hermione as possible – or perhaps it was the other way around – or both. Harry didn’t even look at her – well, he did briefly, when he couldn’t avoid it at first sight, and then immediately flinched away, looking anywhere else.

If Hermione noticed this, she didn’t say anything – in fact, she didn’t say anything about Harry at all.

“They were fighting and barely talking before, but now they can’t even be in the same room,” Neville grumbled one evening as we studied our various research projects, “It’s ridiculous.”

“We knew something like this would happen,” I sighed.

“I know, but that doesn’t mean I have to be happy about it,” Neville grumbled, pouring over about a dozen different strange drawings.

“What’s that?” I asked curiously, resting my head against his arm as Deena crawled into his lap. He rested his cheek against the top of my head and sighed softly.

“Comparing nucleotide sequences.”

“Okay?”

“Remember what those are?”

“Your thing was genetics, mine was evolution.”

“Right, well – I mean – basically I’m comparing the genomes of all the samples I’ve gathered. Magic makes this so much easier – muggles have to cut a lot of corners because of how bloody _long_ this is – but there is a lot of arithmancy that I can use to compare the sequences without actually comparing the sequences,” Neville shrugged.

“Ah alright, so, the whole genome then?” I asked, remembering vaguely what we had studied together.

“Yeah,” Neville nodded, “And I’m trying to concoct the proper arithmantic formulas to calculate differences that are shared by the muggle samples but not by the wizarding ones, but it’s _hard_ –“

“Have you tried using Bayesian transformations of essence?” I asked curiously.

“I have, but I think the problem is that it’s too complex – I mean – we’ve established from just pedigrees that this has to be more than one gene, but I don’t know _how_ much more, and,” Neville frowned heavily, staring at his sheet, “I’ve tried Bayesian transformations of essence, I’ve tried simple ANOVA twistings, and I’ve used _dozens_ of logarithmic likelihood castings, but –“

“What if you used both the ANOVA twistings with an exponential casting?” I asked, “Reverse of logarithmic.”

“Huh…” Neville frowned, “I tried that but what you said brought something else to mind –“

“What?” I raised an eyebrow.

“I haven’t tried doing exponential, then ANOVA, then converting back through logarithmic,” Neville began scribbling furiously on the paper, and pulling out his wand to tap it.

“Wait, that’s probably not good enough,” I frowned, “You’re going to get skewed results.”

“Then what?” Neville frowned.

“You’re on the right track, but what about if you had a Bayesian inference before all this?” I offered.

“Oh!” Neville gasped, writing down more things on many more pieces of parchment, before waving his wand again. The numbers floated on the page over and over again and I watched with him, mesmerized by the interchange and the conversions between them.

They began reorganizing again, before finally settling out into a single pattern. I felt my eyes widen as I stared at it, though I didn’t understand it at all.

“Er… does that make sense to you?” I asked him in confusion.

“Er, almost,” Neville admitted, “It looks like it’s examining all the differences in genes – and these are the nucleotides where they start, the differences I mean.”

“That’s… a lot,” I frowned. The list was _huge_.

“And I don’t know if any of them are the gene or not,” Neville admitted, “These are just the genes that differ in muggles versus wizards – and if you see the side numbers?”

“Yeah –“

“Those are how many different _versions_ of the gene exists in wizards,” he pointed to the left list, “And muggles,” he pointed to the right.

“Well crap,” I groaned.

“It’s okay – this is better than where I was – thank you,” he grinned at me, so wide it spread from ear to ear.

“You’re welco-!” I couldn’t finish my sentence as he grabbed my face in his hands and kissed me passionately, massaging his lips against mine lovingly and holding tightly to my body. Deena squeeked in surprise and leapt off the bed in response to this as Neville wrapped his arms as tightly around me as he could and wouldn’t stop kissing me, making happy sounds into my mouth.

“Someone’s excited!” I laughed, breaking away and panting as he gently stroked my hair.

“What? I made a breakthrough for the first time in a week and you helped, of course I’m going to start snogging you,” Neville grinned, “Frankly I’d start snogging you any time, but this was especially necessary.”

“Fair enough,” I laughed, “You’re wonderful.”

“As are you my love,” he smiled and kissed my nose, and then all over my forehead and cheeks and eyes and chin and jaw and back to my lips, covering every inch of my face in kisses and making me burst into uncharacteristic giggles – though admittedly he did that a lot. He then resumed snogging me, and pulled me to sit in his lap as he held as tightly to me as was probably possible, squeezing his arms around my torso and mumbling slightly with happiness. I managed to pull away and grabbed his head in my hands, now, and covered his face in kisses of my own – trailing them frantically along his forehead, nose, cheeks, chin, jaw, and mouth. I enjoyed kissing his jaw and chin as it was covered in a short, scraggly beard as usual; he giggled louder than I did and wiggled slightly with joy.

“You are amazing and I love you,” he breathed when I had finished, gently stroking my face with his fingertips.

“You are amazing and I love you,” I repeated, smiling at him and kissing him for a long and loving time on the lips.

“Thank you for – for not doing some sort of strange weird noble thing and trying to not date me for my own good or that kind of crap – “ Neville began, frowning slightly as his nose and forehead pressed to mine.

“Nev, I’m much too selfish for that,” I smiled weakly, “I love you so much and I need you in my life so much that I’d never do that.”

“You’re not selfish, Mags,” Neville shook his head, “Okay, you are insofar as every person is – no, I just mean that you care about me so deeply that you might have, and I’m glad you didn’t.”

“No, I was just an idiot in wanting us to be on the same emotional plane,” I laughed weakly, “Which we weren’t pre-parent-revelation.”

“No, we weren’t,” Neville agreed, “And I was an idiot then too. Honestly Elena was too harsh on you.”

“I think she meant more in realizing feelings – because I was an idiot about that – and just getting on with it – which I was an idiot on that too. I mean look I get that what he did to me wasn’t my fault, but I was kind of an idiot for not breaking up with him pre-emotional abuse when I was afraid to – I literally had a revelation that I loved you with every fibre of my being and I stayed with a guy that I just, you know, cared about a lot,” I shook my head in bemusement, “What the hell was I thinking?”

“Well that’s fair,” Neville grinned, “By the way, have you seen Elena since she started snogging?”

“ _Why_ must you remind me of that image?” I groaned, “I’ve been trying to erase it from my memory.”

“Sorry love,” Neville grinned in a way that was very much not apologetic, “I just mean I haven’t seen her or Claire around anywhere.”

“They’re probably in the library like usual,” I suggested hopefully.

“Er, no, I go there to keep Hermione company sometimes when you’re working on Therizinosaurus with McGonagall and I can’t think about genes anymore,” Neville admitted.

“Good on you, I should try and be with her more, it’s just hard when I don’t want to be in the library and that’s where she is _all the bloody time_ ,” I groaned.

“She said she was just doing it to avoid Harry in the Common Room but I explained to her that he’s always in the Room of Requirement now anyway,” Neville rolled his eyes, “We should just invite her in here –“

“With all the raptors? She’ll go nuts! They chirp _constantly_ , Neville!” I laughed. It was true. Right now they were squabbling over their enrichment toys again.

“My god, I’ve gotten used to it that much haven’t I?” Neville’s eyes widened in shock.

“That would be sensory adaptation for ya,” I laughed.

“I remember the first night I didn’t sleep a wink –“

“And now they could probably keep squacking all night and you’d be just fine,” I giggled.

“Alright, at any rate, we need to hang out with Hermione – because she really didn’t do anything wrong – anyway – but I’m in the library when I can and I never see them,” Neville finished.

“Right,” I frowned, “Where could they be?”

“We should ask them tomorrow,” Neville shrugged, “Since they’re not in the library, and not in the Room of Requirement –“

“Could they actually be in the Slytherin Common Room?” I asked in amazement.

“I don’t see where else they’d _go_ – wait –“ Neville’s eyes widened in shock.

“What?” I asked apprehensively.

“Er… they share a bedroom,” Neville stated simply.

“NO!” I screamed, jumping up from his embrace and covering my ears with my hands, “NO! NO NO NO! I DON’T NEED TO HEAR ANY MORE OF _THAT_ , NEVILLE LONGBOTTOM! LA LA LA LA I AM NOT LISTENING!”

“I’m just saying, they’re probably snogging a lot now, and –“

“LA LA LA LA LA!”

“Where else would they have privacy –“

“LAAAA LAAAA LAAA!”

My terrible off-pitch singing was distressing the flock; they began squacking louder and at me in annoyance.

“Okay okay, sorry Mags,” Neville grinned slightly, clearly not wanting to antagonize them too much.

“You are an evil person,” I laughed.

“Oh come on,” he grinned even more, looking positively devilish.

“Why would you make me _imagine_ that?” I screeched. The raptors screeched back, and Blue was even puffing up her feathers in annoyance. Ave and Deena were also calling out, while Mong and Penny were just hissing.

“Because I’m evil,” he confirmed.

“You just protested when I called you that!” I laughed.

“Yes, yes I did,’ Neville nodded. I laughed and dove at him on the bed, kissing him again and lying on top of him. He made a small sound of joy and wrapped his arms tightly around me, and we snogged for a very long time, and then did other things for a very long time after that, while the raptors returned to their toys, very used to such activities from us by now.

The next day in Spellweaving, when I sat with Sam and doodled absent mindedly in my notebook (mostly pictures of _Tyrannosaurus rex_ anatomy for my secret project), Ernie walked up and sat next to me. He was worse for wear after the battle and the pride parade – covered in scars and bruised more besides – but he was grinning.

“So!” he said cheerfully.

“So?” I responded, raising an eyebrow. Sam next to me had a similar expression.

“Would you like to actually have some fun with people other than Neville this evening?” Ernie asked brightly.

“Er – sure?” I laughed, “I have friends you know, you’re one of them in fact – I know, this must come as a shock –“

“Try to keep your heart rate down,” Sam teased.

“Definitely take slow, careful breaths as you work thorugh this surprise –“

“Oh come off it – Hermione could come back at any time and she’s not invited,” Ernie hissed.

“Why in the bloody hell not?” Sam and I shouted in surprise and what’s more, in unison.

“Because she is literally biting off everyone’s head lately, in case you haven’t noticed!” Ernie hissed again.

“I have _not_ ,” I snapped.

“Er, you don’t go to the library,” Sam admitted, “She does kind of scream at everyone now.”

“What did Harry _do –_ okay this isn’t the time,” Ernie shook his head madly, “Look, Ginny and I thought that you and Neville deserved a break from the Banshee and the Suicide Watch –“

“Please don’t talk about them like that,” I groaned, even though he was correct.

“So Elena and Claire are going to spend time with Harry –“ Ernie continued.

“Where the bloody hell have they been lately anyway?” I asked.

“Snogging in their dormitory, apparently Astoria can’t go there anymore –“ Sam answered.

“WHY DO YOU PEOPLE ALL HAVE IT OUT FOR ME?!” I screamed.

“What the -?” Ernie asked in surprise.

“Look, Ern, get on with it,” Sam rolled his eyes, grinning slightly.

“And Dean and Seamus are going to chill with Hermione because Dean is the world’s most calming presence,” Ernie continued.

“Why was I not involved in these plans?” Sam hissed.

“I don’t know – I think Nadia just forgot – anyway Ginny, Nadia, and I, plus you Sam, crap, I thought that someone had told you – are going to take you and Neville to Hogsmeade illegally for some fun,” Ernie grinned.

“You’re mental,” I laughed, “But I like this plan.”

“Why the fuck doesn’t anyone ever tell me anything!” Sam groaned.

“Because you’re a recluse who only has friends due to a stroke of luck?” Ernie offered, grinning teasingly.

I knew he was flirting with Sam and I did _not_ know how to escape from the situation _whatsoever_.

“Well then that means you all should cater to my reclusiveness and _assume_ I have no idea what’s going on!” Sam hissed.

Hermione entered the room then, and it suddenly dawned on me how much she was just _glowering_ all the time lately. I guess I had been ignoring it.

I was good at that.

And so that evening, the six of us went out together to Hogsmeade – while it felt to _me_ like a triple date, I had no idea if this was Ernie’s clever plan of tricking Sam into one or not, or at least into thinking about him that way by realizing they were the only non-couple present. Nadia and Ginny were definitely at the over-affectionate stage of couplehood –

Yes, I recognize Neville and I had never left that stage –

And were holding hands and Nadia, who was shorter than the great and much too tall Ginny, was resting her head on Ginny’s shoulder. Ernie had his hands in his pockets and was grinning as we all walked down the path together, in broad moonlight, without caring if anyone caught us.

“How is this sneaking out?” I asked, grinning.

“Well, we’re going to Hogsmeade on a non-Hogsmeade weekend,” Ernie laughed.

“And since two prefects are in fact present – Ginny and Ernie,” Nadia grinned.

“No one cares,” Ginny nodded.

“Does _EVERYONE FORGET THAT I AM A PREFECT?!_ ” Neville screeched.

“WHEN DO YOU EVER DO YOUR DUTIES?” Ernie laughed.

“I’ll have you know I was on patrol _just last week_!” Neville shouted.

“FIGHTING IN THE BATTLE DOESN’T COUNT AS BEING ON PATROL!” Ernie roared with amusement.

“WHY DOESN’T IT, DAMMIT!” Neville was grinning too.

“Neville, between your terribleness at this from the getgo, and Hermione’s current mental state, I and Colin have been doing _all the damn work_ for Gryffindor,” Ginny laughed, “Quite frankly I can’t wait till you’re both Seventh Years and either Heads or off the hook, because we’ll get new fifth year prefects who will actually _do their damn jobs_.”

“I will not be Head, I can tell you that much,” Neville nodded firmly, “I have done my damndest –“

“I dunno mate, Dumbledore might want to claim the first nonbinary Head – that we know of, anyway,” Sam grinned.

“WHY MUST YOU CRUSH MY DREAMS –“

“Nah it’ll be Ernie and Hermione,” Ginny laughed, “Ernie because you actually do your job –“

“Aww, you’re making me blush –“

“And Hermione because she’s bloody Hermione Granger.”

“And at last, I shall be free!” Neville cheered as we reached Hogsmeade and went into the Leaky Cauldron. Nadia went up to order with Ginny as Sam leaned against the window of the booth and grinned cheekily at Neville.

“I’m still betting money on three heads, and a nonbinary head, for practical reasons too,” Sam laughed, “Dumbledore will want to show solidarity with you and the movement.”

“Fuck,” Neville groaned, resting his head on the table in his arms. I gently rubbed his back in comfort.

“He’s already showing enough solidarity,” Ernie chuckled, “More like he’ll want to distance himself from us before he gets attacked.”

“Oh god that pride parade was a disaster,” Sam moaned.

“Why must you bring that up?” Ginny asked, her face sincerely falling as she and Nadia came back with drinks – tall butterbeers for everyone but me and Nadia, me getting a small one, Nadia just water.

“Because I didn’t realize you were right there?” Sam offered, grimacing, “Sorry Gin.”

“It’s fine,” Ginny sighed, “I just don’t know what I did _wrong_.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong sweetie,” Nadia soothed, drinking her glass of water, “You couldn’t have predicted what happened.”

“Yeah, of all the things for people to get pissed about, who would have guessed it would be a peaceful pride parade and not one of our rowdy, violent protest rallies?” Sam nodded.

“But that’s the thing,” Ginny frowned, looking horrifically guilty, “They wouldn’t attack a rowdy rally because they knew we’d fight back. Peaceful pride parade with no proper adults around…”

“Shite, you’re right,” Ernie whispered.

“I should have thought of that and had chaperones,” Ginny moaned, “I don’t know why I didn’t.”

“It’s okay, we all make mistakes,” Sam reassured.

“And you still have the party later on this month, that’ll be in nice, safe Hogwarts and just fine,” Nadia agreed.

“I just wish I could organize a social event that wasn’t a party that turned out,” Ginny grumbled.

“Well, actually, Ron and Luna and I were coming up with an idea,” Ernie admitted.

“What sort of idea?” Ginny raised an eyebrow.

“We’re still working it through, but what would be really great is if you helped organize charity drives?” Ernie asked, “If we go through with it.”

“Not my usual fair, but I can start looking into it,” Ginny nodded, “It would help if I knew what you were doing charity for.”

“Again, Ron seems kind of on the fence – Luna’s much more gun ho, in fact it was her idea, but – anyway we need to get Ron on board,” Ernie shrugged, “But we’re getting there.”

“Alright,” Ginny agreed.

“And you’ll come up with many more great ideas on your own,” Nadia beamed.

“You sure?” Ginny smiled weakly.

“Oh definitely, you’re a social butterfly,” Neville grinned, “I hear tell that’s a thing.”

“Muggle term?” Ginny asked.

“Muggle term,” I confirmed, “Muggles have weird terms for things.”

“Let’s not open that can of worms,” Nadia shook her head slowly, “Also, Ginny, during the party we should have a poetry slam.”

“You’ll wipe the floor with everyone!” Ginny laughed.

“That’s why I’d organize it –“

“Who would _compete_?”

“I’ll write some crappy lines,” Sam grinned.

“I too will provide terrible, terrible words,” Neville nodded.

“It’ll be great, the shittiest, queerest poetry of all time,” Nadia giggled.

“Fine, I’ll pencil it in, but I’ll have you know that I have a lot of things planned so we don’t have any drama like our _last_ party,” Ginny shook her head sadly.

“I personally blame myself for not hitting Harry with a stick,” I admitted.

“Same,” Neville agreed.

“I don’t think there were enough stick sin the world to get that boy to do something not stupid about Hermione,” Ernie sighed.

“We’re here to _not talk_ about that, last I checked,” Sam grinned.

“It came up!” Ernie protested.

“It’s fine, frankly venting might be good for us,” I moaned.

“Seriously, we’re being driven up the wall,” Neville nodded.

“Hermione isn’t being empathetic with Harry’s illness,” I continued.

“And Harry’s illness is being a bitch but his self-righteous noble streak _isn’t helping_ ,” Neville groaned.

“Like, the whole time he was pining after Hermione, his whole saving people thing kept being why he wouldn’t just _talk to her_ , because BPD makes you terrified of losing people, sure, but he was _losing her_ and they were _fighting all the time_ and I’m sure they would have just talked if he wasn’t on such a freaking high horse,” I grunted in annoyance.

“It was loony, honestly, and Hermione was constantly talking about how she should just give up on him, which was frustrating, and –“ Neville continued.

“Oh god, we need to save you both,” Sam stated with wide eyes.

“You’re going to commit mercy murder and then suicide if this keeps up,” Ernie nodded.

“I can see the Daily Prophet headlines now,” Ginny grimaced.

“The world’s most adorable couple found dead along with best mates. ‘The chaos was too much of them,’ said close friends,” Nadia continued.

“We saw the warning signs, why we didn’t do anything we don’t know –“ Ernie continued.

“I blame myself, mostly, one associate admitted,” Ginny grinned a little.

“Are you that one associate?” I laughed.

“Maybe, I _did_ break up with him because I couldn’t _handle_ the whole BPD thing,” Ginny laughed.

“And you are Harry’s other closest friend outside the three of us,” Neville rolled his eyes.

“Yeah!” I realized, “Why the hell didn’t you help with the chaos?”

“I was falling –“ Ginny’s eyes widened and she looked at Nadia in shock before at anywhere other than her.

“Wha’?” Sam asked in confusion.

“Down. I was falling down. A lot. In Quidditch. We still have that, you know,” she stated rapidly.

“Ginny? What were you going to say?” Nadia asked in confusion.

“Nothing! That! The Quidditch thing!” Ginny insisted.

“You never fall off your broom –“ Nadia began, but the door to the Three Broomsticks opened. I looked over and saw Lupin, Sirius, Shae, and Tonks walk in, all talking amongst themselves. Sirius and Lupin still had kind of a cool atmosphere between them, but they were holding hands, so at least they were working through their fight from the battle.

“Guys!” I hissed, and the six of us dove under the booth, not knowing if we should be seen there or not.

“Why the hell are we hiding?” Ernie hissed.

“Lupin and Sirius!” I hissed back.

“We can be here, we’re adults!” Sam rolled his eyes.

“Not legally, half of us, and besides that, we shouldn’t be here anyways, Sirius will punish us because it’s unsafe or something,” Ginny snapped.

“Right,” Neville groaned, covering his face in his hands.

Unfortunately, the four of them sat right near our table at the bar.

“So they really are endorsing them, huh?”

My ears perked up at Shae’s distinctive American accent.

“Not in the papers, but officially yes. They have Ministry badges and everything,” Lupin clarified.

“Why not in the papers, I reckon?” Tonks asked.

“Probably don’t want to draw attention to _any_ of it,” Lupin continued, “They haven’t acknowledged the rebels more than they needed to either, not even when they went to Azkaban.”

“That’s true,” Tonks admitted.

I looked at the others in shock; their wide eyes mirrored my own.

“But yes, they’ve endorsed this Backlash movement,” Sirius _growled_ , “Given them powers to fight against the rebels and everything –“

“Has anyone told the kids?” Shae muttered.

“No, and we’re not going to,” Lupin stated firmly, “Riots and fights breaking out in every city as the Backlash attack known Rebels – it’s anarchy – the Rebels aren’t even _doing_ anything usually when they attack –“

“The longer we keep this from the kids the better,” Sirius agreed, “They’ll want to help, and get themselves in more trouble.”

“Granted, the rebellion is still larger than the backlash, so they’re fighting back alright on their own,” Lupin clarified, “But most rebellion people will hide, while almost all people who align with the Backlash are participating in this violence.”

“How in the hell can your damn crap government get away with this?” Shae hissed.

“Years of corruption,” Sirius muttered.

“The kids are doing the right thing,” Tonks sighed, “The right thing just is also the hard thing.”

“I know,” Lupin admitted, “I just don’t want to see them get hurt.”

“They’re going to get hurt,” Sirius lamented, “Love, I know it’s hard, but they’re going to get hurt.”

“If we lose any more of them…”

“Let’s not think about that. Four butterbeers, please.”

The others were looking back at me with equal expressions of fear and anger, as we crouched under the table while the four adults drank and talked now about Quidditch and other, more cheerful things.

So much for a fun evening out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your lovely comments! I have survived biochem and I am back, and I want to update as much as possible so we can get to Harmony happening as quickly as possible! Sadly I, like always, have a lot planned. This is a complicated story (and that's just the way I like it so). 
> 
> Please keep commenting - really they're my bread and butter for writing, the more I get the more inspired I am, it's that simple. Thanks!


	106. Chapter One Hundred and Five: November 7 - 8, 1996, Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "When the day has come  
> That I've lost my way around  
> And the seasons stop and hide beneath the ground  
> When the sky turns gray  
> And everything is screaming  
> I will reach inside  
> Just to find my heart is beating 
> 
> Oh, you tell me to hold on  
> Oh, you tell me to hold on  
> But innocence is gone  
> And what was right is wrong 
> 
> 'Cause I'm bleeding out  
> So if the last thing that I do  
> Is to bring you down  
> I'll bleed out for you  
> So I bare my skin  
> And I count my sins  
> And I close my eyes  
> And I take it in  
> And I'm bleeding out  
> I'm bleeding out for you (for you)."  
> ~ Imagine Dragons, "Bleeding Out"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Mild Sexual content in this chapter

Chapter 105: November 7 – 8, 1996, Hogwarts

After a while, the four of them left, and we all snuck back out from under the table and started walking back to the castle.

“So what do we do?” Nadia grunted, massaging her head and fixing her hijab.

“I don’t know, but I’m not going to be able to stand straight… potentially ever again,” Neville groaned, hunched over and grimacing with pain. I immediately wrapped my arms around him and massaged his back as we walked.

“Let’s go to the Room of Requirement,” Sam sighed, “We should plan.”

“Will Harry be there?” Ginny asked worriedly, “We shouldn’t worry him and Hermione with this – “

“Shit you’re right,” Sam groaned.

“Let’s go to our room,” Neville sighed, “It’ll be cramped but guarantee no one will barge in.”

“Just a bunch of loud raptors instead,” Ginny rolled her eyes.

“Better than the alternative,” Neville rolled his eyes, “Come on.”

We ran up together to the castle and scurried to our room, all piling in. The raptors were nowhere to be found.

“Bloody hell!” I shouted.

“This confirms it, they can open doors,” Neville groaned, holding his face in his hands.

“It was kind of obvious,” Ernie sniggered.

“Apparently not to them,” Ginny giggled appreciatively.

“Whatever,” I rolled my eyes, “I’ll worry about that later – er – not a lot of places to sit in here –“

“Where do you do _work?_ ” Nadia asked in surprise.

“On the bed or in the room of requirement, really,” Neville admitted.

“Alright, party on the bed,” I laughed, sitting down immediately.

“That’s against my religion,” Nadia joked, but she was grinning as she said it to reinforce the joke, sitting next to me and tucking her legs against her body.

“So what the bloody hell do we do?” Sam sighed, sitting on the edge of the bed and leaning against the footboard.

“I don’t know,” Ernie shook his head, sitting next to him, running a hand through his hair, “We aren’t supposed to even _know_ about this.”

“Maybe we should tell the DA?” Neville grimaced from his position lying on my lap – Ginny was sitting on top of his legs.

“Yeah, that’ll go well,” Ginny rolled her eyes, pressing her feet against Nadia’s hips, “Oh, guys, guess what, there are literal fights breaking out in the streets because of what we’ve done?”

“I just don’t know what to think,” I groaned, holding my face in my hands, “On the one hand, this is our fault – on the other, the Ministry is not handling any of this correctly, and I honestly don’t know if we _should_ be considered at fault for this, when we didn’t think that the Ministry would approve _vigilante justice_.”

“This isn’t vigilante justice, this is government sanctioned hate groups,” Sam hissed angrily.

“Okay so we should tell everyone, then?” Nadia frowned.

“They’ll all freak out –“ Neville muttered.

“But they have a right to know!” Ernie shouted, “Being kept in the dark – especially when something like this is happening –“

“And just think of when we have another rally – not this weekend but next,” Nadia moaned, “What if this is still going on?”

“We should have told everyone before that happens,” Neville agreed, “But – right away?”

“Right away,” Ginny shook her head sadly, “No point in waiting, and who knows when we’ll have time to again.”

“So what – schedule one for tomorrow night? What will we even say – we don’t have any facts –“ I began rambling.

“We have to say something, and yes, tomorrow night,” Nadia nodded, “You don’t know – look, you guys started the DA, but –“

“We cultivated it,” Ernie shook his head sadly, “And they need to be kept informed. One of the main complaints when you four were in charge – Team Potter I mean –“

“Oh no,” I groaned.

“The name isn’t _spreading_ is it –“ Neville agreed.

“Yes,” Nadia laughed.

“One of the main complaints was that no one really knew what was happening, only what you told us – and I mean I understand, now that I have lead the DA on my own, sometimes you just shouldn’t say things, but it wasn’t good for a harmonious group and I think now we should have open honesty, especially with this rebellion,” Ernie finished.

“Alright,” Neville sighed.

“So after Queer Club?” I grimaced.

“Best time for it,” Nadia shrugged.

“We need to warn everyone that things are going to be dangerous from here on out and we don’t know exactly what is happening outside of the castle,” Ginny agreed.

“And we need to say what we _do_ know,” Ernie reinforced.

“Oh definitely,” Ginny agreed.

“What do we do about Harry and Hermione?” Sam asked quietly.

“They have to come too,” Neville groaned, placing his hands over his eyes in pain.

“We keep them at opposite ends of the room?” Ginny suggested.

“Yeah, and have them look at each other?” I sighed, “Every time Harry has to look at Hermione it’s like he’s been stabbed –“

“Well he’s going to just have to look at anywhere else, we can’t have them _near_ each other,” Nadia shivered, “But they both need to be there.”

“Oh god, the DA at large doesn’t know how bad it’s been –“ Ernie moaned.

“Consider the following: the meeting is only for the DA, and not the rebellion at large?” I suggested with a grimace.

“Well of course, but even then we’ve kept it out of the fringes – no one needs to know Team Potter’s broken up –“ Ernie clarified.

“Please don’t call us that,” Neville grunted in annoyance.

“We have to make it seem like all is normal – luckily we’re the ones who heard about it, so we can at least lead the meeting together and have them far away from us,” Ginny reasoned.

“There is that at least,” Sam agreed tiredly.

“And then what if both of them want to come up and say something?” Nadia demanded, “Or worse – started arguing about what to do –“

“We have to keep the meeting under control and keep them from speaking,” I nodded, “That’s the only way.”

“I think we can do that for Harry, but lord help us if Hermione has something to say,” Sam groaned.

“Maybe she’ll think Harry’s going to be there and avoid coming?” Ginny asked hopefully.

“Again, they need to be there, or the DA won’t respond well at all,” Ernie insisted.

“This is a nightmare,” I moaned.

“We are teenagers who don’t have time to have teenage drama, what the fuck are supposed to do?” Neville agreed.

“We’re supposed to act like adults but Harry and Hermione are not,” Ginny grunted in annoyance.

“I can’t blame them either, they’re acting like our age group,” Sam groaned, “We’re just going to have to manage the situation as best as possible.”

“This is ridiculous,” Neville grunted, “I’m just going to pick up the both of them and –“

“And what?” Nadia laughed.

“I dunno – force them to kiss and make up? What choice do I have?” Neville grunted.

“Now kiss,” Ginny giggled.

“It’s the best solution!” Neville threw up his arms in the air. I lovingly caught them and held them against me, smiling at him in amusement.

“So then tomorrow, after Queer club, in the Room of Requirement? I’ll send out the message,” Sam offered, digging into his pocket for his galleon.

“I think we should clarify that it’s urgent and that all members should come if possible – er – not sure how to do that on one of those things,” Ginny grimaced.

“I don’t know if there’s a way to say urgent,” Ernie admitted.

“Can you write SOS?” Nadia laughed.

“You know full well many of the purebloods won’t know what that is,” Sam rolled his eyes.

“SOS?” Neville, Ernie, and Ginny asked.

“Oh geez,” I giggled, now massaging Neville’s palms with my thumbs.

“Basically, SOS is –“ Sam began, as the door to the room opened.

“Okay what the hell?” I shouted as the five raptors filed in.

“You know, we once had a lock on the door, like, a password lock,” Neville grinned.

“Yeah, what – when did that get lifted?” I shouted in amazement as the five didn’t even pay attention to us and just went to their corner, chirping and playing with toys or collapsing on their beds in exhaustion.

“I think it got lifted over the summer – there’s this whole automatic thing with passwords, it’s like this magical code basically, that the passwords get lifted over the summer from all parts of the castle, and then most things have an automatic regeneration of the password, but your room doesn’t,” Ernie explained.

“Because McGonagall just gave you a random one so Umbridge couldn’t get in,” Ginny nodded.

“But in the rest of the castle it regenerates when the summer’s over – it’s only off during the summer so that people can go into the rooms if need be without any hassle – so –“ Ernie continued.

“Bloody hell,” Neville groaned, “Well we can’t ask for a password back, if they get out they need to be able to get back in.”

“Make a raptor proof muggle type lock?” Ginny giggled.

“But – but – how did they learn to open doors?” I shouted again.

“They learned because they’re bloody brilliant and you have no one to blame but yourself,” Sam chortled.

“This is the most annoying thing that’s ever happened to me,” I grunted.

“The _most_?” Ernie smirked.

“Note the adjective I picked was annoying, not terrible or any other sort of hyperbolic thing,” I rolled my eyes.

“Or we could just let them keep exploring the castle and lock the door when there’s a battle?” Neville offered.

“They could get hurt just from the moving staircase!” I screeched.

“I know, it would just be a pain to lock the door, the students evidently assume it’s locked anyway, none of our shite ever goes missing, and why keep them cooped up all day when they could be having a lovely time outside of the room?” Neville asked.

“Because they’re my raptors and I don’t want them dying?” I rolled my eyes.

“Give em more credit – I once saw them sliding down the banisters in the Entrance Hall,” Sam chuckled.

“What?!” I gasped.

“And I think I saw them coming out of the sewers once –“ Ginny agreed.

“WHAT?!” I shouted.

“Once I saw them by the seventh floor, could have sworn they were coming out of the Room of Requirement –“ Nadia giggled.

“ _WHAT?!_ ” I screeched.

“They go to to the dungeons too – saw them deep within the catacombs when I was on patrol the other day – followed ‘em right into one of the deeper parts of the third dungeon, and I think they found this passageway out onto the grounds –“ Ernie was laughing as he said all of this.

“ ** _WHAT?!_** ” I shrieked.

“Love, calm down,” Neville was chortling too.

“BUT WHY IN THE HELL DID NONE OF YOU EVER TELL ME ANY OF THIS?!” I screamed.

“We all thought you knew!” Nadia laughed.

“ERNIE, ALL YOU SAID WAS THAT YOU SEE THEM AROUND ALL THE TIME – NOT THAT THEY GET INTO CRAZY ADVENTURES –“ I continued.

“I’m sorry!” Ernie giggled, “I didn’t think one mutually excluded the other!”

“BLUE!” I screeched. Blue looked up from her wing, where her head had been nestled to take a nap.

“STOP RUNNING ABOUT THE CASTLE!” I waved my arms in my distress. Blue chirped in confusion.

“She’s intelligent, not capable of human speech, love,” Neville chortled.

“Remember, she just remembers the sound of her name,” Ginny giggled.

I groaned loudly and held my head in my face.

“It’s okay love, they’ve been fine so far,” Neville murmured, kissing my hands. 

“They’re going to get themselves killed,” I grumbled.

“We’re all keeping a lookout when you can’t, never fear,” Ernie reassured.

“Evidently,” I muttered.

“And we’ll keep you better informed, sorry,” Nadia giggled slightly.

“That’s all I asked,” I sighed, before turning to Blue, “I’m sorry Blue, come here,” I offered, patting my lap, which also had Neville.

“No no no no wait wait!” Neville protested, but it was too late as Blue hopped over to us and lept on top of Neville’s chest, nestling in it and forming her sleeping position.

“Oof!” Neville shouted, “Dammit Maggie –“

Everyone else was roaring with laughter as Blue tucked her head under her arm again and began to sleep while Neville watched, helpless.

“How the hell am I supposed to move without getting scratched?” Neville squeaked.

“Poke her?” I giggled.

“She’ll probably poke me back for waking her!” Neville groaned.

“Ave!” I laughed. Ave looked up, dropping the end of the rope toy he was pulling at with Mong.

I then patted Ginny’s lap and she shrieked as Ave jumped up into it and nestled, making a happy chirping sound.

Unfortunately, the presence of two of the raptors on the bed meant that everyone else decided to come up, too; Ernie, Sam and Nadia shrieked as Deena and Penny climbed up onto the bed, forming a floof pile around everyone. Blue, never one to say no to a floof pile, joined in, leaving Neville’s chest.

“You’re a genius!” Neville laughed, sitting up and against me, squishing me against the headboard.

“Oi!” I protested, though it was muffled in his shirt, causing me to giggle.

“This is revenge,” he laughed, wiggling his hips slightly.

“Oi!” Nadia laughed.

“Get a room!” Sam chortled.

“You’re _in_ the room we usually have!” Neville giggled.

“Okay well I think that means it’s time for us to go,” Ernie snorted.

“Yeah, we’ve discussed everything we need to,” Ginny agreed.

“The only problem with your plan of leaving is that the odds are the raptors won’t let you,” I giggled as Neville moved so I could breathe again, helping me out from behind him and pulling me into his lap, where I sat and curled up comfortably.

“Oh shite,” Ginny groaned, staring down at a very much asleep Ave in her lap.

“Doomed,” Sam moaned as Penny decided that he was her perch now.

“So do you guys mind us kipping out here tonight?” Nadia giggled.

“If you don’t mind us snogging,” Neville laughed.

“Typically we engage in a good snog every evening,” I grinned devilishly.

“Sometimes we do more than snog as well, of course, but we can limit ourselves to snogging just for you guys,” Neville chuckled.

“Oh bloody hell,” Ginny groaned.

“We must escape!” Sam agreed.

“Alright, so, we all have to just – get up,” Ernie grimaced as Deena rested against him now, since I had taken her usual spot.

“You’re stuck,” Neville giggled.

“Too bad,” I agreed.

“We usually appreciate privacy when we snog,” Neville agreed.

“Well, as much as we can get with so many raptors around,” I amended.

“But usually they just ignore us now,” Neville furthered.

“Since you’re trapped here forever, you’ll just have to get used to it too,” I continued.

“Might even learn some tips,” Neville grinned evilly.

“Oh god,” Nadia groaned.

“We’re trapped,” Ginny moaned.

“Forever, potentially,” Sam grimaced, “I vote we all go blind.”

“Blindness does not seem so bad right now,” Ernie agreed.

“I’d mind it very much, thanks,” Ginny rolled her eyes, “Just gotta – just gotta escape – how in the hell –“

“Usually I just wait for Blue to leave,” I responded seriously.

“But Mong is _asleep!_ ” Nadia protested.

“Yes, I can see how that would be a problem,” Neville agreed.

“Blue!” I shouted. Blue looked up from her spot sleeping next to Sam.

“Down, okay?” I asked. Blue leapt from the bed, and soon everyone else did, too, even Mong, though he had to be nudged awake by Penny.

“Oh thank god,” Ginny breathed, immediately escaping from the bed. Nadia, Ernie and Sam followed, all waving and leaving while laughing about the near miss they just had.

“Seriously though,” I sighed when the door had closed behind them, “What are we going to do about them leaving?”

“Just keep a lookout, I guess,” Neville shrugged, “Or figure out raptor proof locks.”

“Yeah,” I groaned, turning to him in his lap and pulling him down to me for a long kiss. He moaned softly and wrapped his arms tightly around me, holding me up against him as we fell together against the mattress, his lips moving lovingly and eagerly against mine as we snogged until we were too tired to snog any longer.

The next day though, McGonagall cornered me in the corridor.

“Maggie, I think we should work on the _Therizinosaurus_ this evening – when do you have a break in your schedule?” she asked immediately. Of course she didn’t know about the DA meeting – it was as secret as the information we were discussing.

But it was sexuality week in Queer club.

“Er… my schedule’s pretty busy tonight,” I grimaced.

“I think you should get moving forward, you want to impress the committee,” McGonagall shook her head sadly, “And I have Order business this weekend.”

“Why can’t we just next week?” I demanded, trying to be as polite as possible as I did so.

“I think it is of _vital importance_ that we work together tonight, Maggie,” McGonagall insisted. I watched her in confusion before nodding slowly.

“I’ll… get Neville to cover my shift in Queer club,” I offered, frowning in confusion.

“That’s all I ask – see you this evening,” McGonagall nodded, walking away quickly.

I frowned after her and ran to the Greenhouses, finding Neville tending to his plants, humming softly. I briefly stopped to look at him, enjoying the smile on his face as he trimmed one of the leaves from a curse-blocker plant, his face covered with dirt and his hair tied behind his head in a ponytail. He wiped off sweat from his brow and a streak of dirt went across it as he did so, but that only made him infinitely cuter to me as he started repotting one of the plants, watching the roots carefully as he transferred it to another pot.

“Nev?” I called out, hesitating in the doorway.

“Mags!” He greeted, looking happy to see me, “What’s up?”

“Er, I have a favor to ask,” I grimaced.

“Anything for you,” he smiled lovingly. I blushed automatically but beamed back at him.

“Well, McGonagall basically insisted that we meet tonight, and I couldn’t get out of it no matter how much I explained that I had a lot of other shit to do,” I grumbled in annoyance, “So I chose to miss Queer Club instead of our emergency DA meeting.”

“Of course you did,” Neville nodded, “So you want me to lead your section?”

“If its not too much to ask,” I sighed, “I’m really sorry, but I couldn’t get her to drop it –“

“Oh it’s fine,” Neville shrugged, “I don’t mind, I’m in a good mood today.”

“Thank you love,” I beamed, “I’ll make it up to you – er – I can’t really lead a discussion for you but I’ll make it up to you.”

“You don’t have to make it up to me,” Neville grinned slightly, “Love, we’re a couple. We’re a team. We help each other. That’s how it works.”

“Yeah,” I grinned, walking over to him in the greenhouses, “Well thank you for being on my team.”

“I always have been,” he murmured softly, wiping my hair from my face and kissing me. I didn’t care that his hands were dirty and he likely got my hair dirty too. I immediately wrapped my arms around his shoulders and he picked me up high suddenly, definitely getting my clothes dirty but I didn’t care as I wrapped my legs around his waist. He moaned softly into my mouth and set me down on an available bit of table, holding to my butt as he pressed me up against him. I tightened my legs around his waist and squeezed them as he eagerly massaged his lips against mine, moving them rapidly has he moaned softly into my mouth. I ran my hands along his back that was covered in dirt and mud and water from caring from the plants, but I loved the sight of him doing so _so much_ that I couldn’t help myself; I practically tore at his clothes as I pressed my body as tightly against his as I could.

“Mags,” he groaned into my mouth, running his hands up from my butt to my sides, squeezing my waist tightly as he kissed me.

“Nev,” I breathed back, my heartbeat quickening rapidly as I felt his penis hard against my crotch, him pressed into me as he was.

“We’re in public,” he managed to gasp, though his hands had moved up from my waist and were squeezing my breasts, massaging them gently as he continued to kiss me and not seemingly actually care about the fact that anyone could see what we were getting up to.

“So?” I giggled, pulling back from kissing him to run my hands up along his stomach and chest.

“Sprout could walking at any moment,” Neville mumbled, looking nervous but excited as he kissed my nose and jaw and lips, softly trialing kisses all over my exposed skin.

“I don’t care,” I muttered, breathing against his lips so heavily that I could feel him shiver in my arms and legs, “The sight of you gardening is very, very sexy.”

Neville let out a moan of happiness and resumed kissing me heavily, squeezing his arms tightly around me and wiggling in them. I giggled and ran my hands through his very long hair and managed to tease it out of the ponytail, though that just mean that Neville did the same with my much longer hair, playing with it and getting his dirty fingers all over it. I snorted again and kissed him more heavily, now earnestly reaching for the buttons on his shirt and starting to unbutton them.

“We shouldn’t – “ Neville protested halfheartedly.

“Remember that time you got me off in Herbology?” I laughed.

“Dammit, she didn’t _see_ it,” Neville grinned.

“Eh,” I chuckled, now shrugging his sweaty shirt of his shoulders and running my hands up and down his naked torso.

“Okay at the _least_ we should go into a closet or something –“ Neville begged, looking over at the very see three walls nervously.

“Do you have an appropriate closet?” I asked.

“Yes, yes I do,” Neville reassured, managing to escape from my grasp and dragging me into a nearby room. The room was dark and filled with pots and pans and extra seeds and things, and he shut the door tightly behind him, now pressing me up against the wall in earnest.

“Nev!” I giggled, pulling him in for a long kiss and enjoying the feeling of his lips on mine as he kissed me even more passionately.

“Oh Mags,” he moaned softly, now trailing kisses down my neck and sucking on it. I groaned and pressed myself against him, clawing at his back needfully and enjoying the feeling of his skin beneath my fingernails. Neville moaned and eagerly reached for my own blouse, quickly unbuttoning it and shrugging it off of my shoulders. I raised my arms in the air and he kissed me passionately as he managed to reach for the clasp of my bra, unhooking it and shrugging it off my body as he pulled his lips away from mine and down to my breast.

I moaned happily as he started sucking on it, massaging the other one with his hands as he did so, covering me with dirt and mud and water as he did. I didn’t mind and I buried my fingers in his curls, tugging at his hair and trying to not groan too loudly as he sucked on my breast and lapped at my nipple with his tongue.

“Oh Nev,” I moaned, now pulling him back up to kiss me. We kissed passionately for a long time, my body pressed against his as he lifted me up again, so I could straddle his hips as we kissed, my skirt hiking up around him and even completely uncovering my legs, so that they were bare and flush against his pants. He started squirming between my legs needfully, pressing me up tighter against the wall as his tongue entered my mouth and massaged mine. I eagerly wrapped mine around his, massaging his rapidly and mumbling happily into his mouth.

He reached down to squeeze my breast again and continued to massage it eagerly, reaching with his other arm to support me while massaging my back. He managed to reach the knot at the end of it that always felt so good to be teased away and started working on it, grunting slightly with effort as he still was holding me aloft. He moved his other arm from my breast to my butt as I squeezed his shoulders with my hands, eagerly wiggling my butt in his other arm as his massaging one worked on the knot in my back. I moaned into his mouth as he did this, and he eagerly ran his tongue along the tips of my teeth as I moaned, frantically bucking his hips into mine possibly without realizing it. I eagerly bucked mine back into his, rubbing my hips against his needfully and moaning quietly.

When he teased the knot out of existence I moaned louder; he groaned into my mouth in satisfaction and returned his lips to my breast, now the other one, sucking on it and massaging my butt with his hands. I wiggled against him and moaned and gasped, burying my fingers into his hair.

And then the door opened.

It took us a split second too long to jump apart in shock as Sprout stared at us in complete surprise –so she definitely caught a glimpse of Neville sucking on my breast. I quickly covered up my chest as I landed to the ground and Neville looked up at the ceiling in embarrassment, his face coloring bright red as he squeaked in surprise.

Sprout didn’t say a word – her eyes wide and her mouth open in shock, she simply turned around and closed the door behind her.

I quickly scrambled to pull on my bra as Neville hurriedly shrugged into his shirt, leaving the closet and chasing after her without another word to me. I pulled on my shirt over that and started buttoning it up as I left the closet, flushed horrifically with embarrassment.

“Longbottom, you have your own _bedroom_ – “

“I know, I’m sorry, this is the first time this happened,” Neville stammered, looking flustered and embarrassed as I came out and joined him in this activity.

“Do you realize how unsanitary that was for _both_ of you –“

“Not like we’ll come down with muggle germs?” Neville offered. Sprout sighed in exasperation.

“Detention for both of you, and _please_ never let it happen again – Merlin, I need to go borrow Professor Dumbledore’s pensieve, I need to remove that memory from my mind forever,” Sprout grumbled, quickly leaving the Greenhouse.

I turned to Neville awkwardly and grimaced at him; his expression mirrored my own.

“Okay, I know you think I’m sexy when I’m working in the Greenhouse –“ Neville began.

“I’m just going to avoid coming down here,” I offered.

“Thanks love,” Neville smiled slightly, kissing me very chastely on the lips as I hurried out of there to take a shower before meeting with McGonagall that evening. I was absolutely covered in dirt.

I waited for McGonagall in her office, sketching out the _T. rex_ on sheets of paper, my sheets on _Therizinosaurus_ close by. I was starting to perfect the series of transfigurations I would need to achieve the size of _Tyrannosaurus_ without impacting brain function, and it made me both nervous and excited at the same time as I started working out with arithmantic formulas the precise series of transfigurations that would give me the proper genetic changes.

_My god, what if I actually do this?_

The thought thrilled me and I pictured a giant rex towering above the castle, roaring and going after the giants – if there were still any left by the time I finished this.

Of course, the most surprising part of my arithmantic calculations was that it was ninety-nine percent likely that _Tyrannosaurus rex_ had feathers of some sort according to them – not something I had actually been expecting, given its size.

The world was a weird place.

The door to the office opened; I immediately shoved the papers in my book and turned around. McGonagall wasn’t alone, though; behind her were two adults in robes, both fairly pale with dark hair and stern facial expressions.

“What’s going on?” I asked immediately in confusion.

“These are two members of the Committee on Experimental Transfigurations from the Ministry,” McGonagall explained softly, looking furious at the situation, “They’re here to check to make sure your Animagus description matches that of your actual form.”

“Oh,” I breathed, hit with a ton of bricks at this statement. I vaguely remembered there being a chance of this, but with everything else going on I had completely forgotten about it.

“Please transform, Miss Johnson,” the first adult, a tall man with glasses.

I nodded and turned into a dragon, and both the man and the short woman without glasses started poking and prodding me, circling around me and looking at every detail of my dragon body.

They were muttering and Hmm-ing and looking into every single part of me, lifting up my tail to look at the underside, and opening my mouth to look inside of it. The woman began picking up my feet to examine my claws and the bottoms of them, and the man even lifted up one of my legs to look at the inside of it.

I was frozen with fear as they looked at me – they were authority figures – I couldn’t attack them without being in _serious trouble –_

But they were invading every aspect of my personal space and making me feel like I was on display –

“Is that really necessary?” McGonagall screeched.

“Standard procedure nowadays, Minerva,” the man responded, looking at my belly and underside and crotch as I fought every instinct inside me to not breathe fire in their faces.

Now they were just - just –

As he prodded at my underbelly, I couldn’t help but think the word _molesting_ me.

“You are invading her privacy and I must insist that you _stop,_ ” McGonagall yelled. As the man started looking at the underside of the back of my tail, staring right into my dragon cloaca and making me fight every urge to scream in terror, she ran up to him and pushed him out of the way.

“Minerva!” the man shouted.

“You get away from her! I’ll take the bloody fine if it’s not verified!” McGonagall roared. The woman looked terrified at this exchange.

“Fine, it’ll be twenty galleons for that and the late reporting,” the man sneered.

“FINE!” McGonagall shouted, reaching into her robes and pouring the large amount of money into the mans hands, “GET OUT!”

The man and the woman quickly scurried out of there as I transformed back, shaking from head to foot and unable to think clearly. I simply ran to McGonagall and shook in her arms, hugging her as tightly as I could.

“They sent me notice that they were going to check on your form today,” McGonagall whispered, “I insisted on being present so I had to arrange a time, but they said that you were not to be informed. The procedure is _not_ that invasive and I had no idea they would do that.”

I simply shook silently, floods of memories coming back and hitting me all over, panicked and terrified that they would come back and poke and prod at me some more – even as a dragon – it was like –

“I think they’re trying to intimidate you into staying silent past your punishment date,” McGonagall murmured thoughtfully, “Knowing what they do about your past.”

I swallowed and nodded – they had done a good job, even if it hadn’t worked.

“I assume you have no energy to work on the _Therizinosaurus_?” McGonagall asked quietly.

“No,” I muttered.

“Alright. Head off to whatever you have next,” McGonagall sighed.

I nodded, but first I went to my room and grabbed the flock, who were all still thankfully there. If nothing else, they made me feel safer – I’d just sic them on the man if I saw him again, or the woman who did nothing to stop him. We all trekked up together to the Room of Requirement, where no one was around; I sat on a couch and sobbed into my arms, the five of them leaping up around me and cuddling with me. Blue immediately went to my lap and nestled up against me, definitely not trying to hug me again, as I tried to block out the memory of that man prodding at my nether regions from my mind.

I cried for a long time up in the room of requirement, just covering Blue’s feathers in them, swallowing and sniffling and hiccupping as I tried to get over what had happened – but this was the kind of problem I needed Neville to fix.

The door to the Room opened; I immediately looked up hopefully to see Neville walking in, followed by all the rest of the Alliance DA members. I felt my face fall – I had hoped he’d be alone, as improbable as that was –

“Mags? What’s wrong?” Neville asked immediately, running to me and holding me tightly against him. Feeling his arms around me made me calm almost completely, resting against him and shivering in his arms.

“I can’t tell you now,” I whispered softly, “How did Alliance go?”

“Oh Merlin,” Neville groaned, “There was such a disaster – I wish you could have been there so I could take care of it while you keep the multisexual group going –“

“What happened?” I asked worriedly, looking up and around as people came in. Hermione looked like she had been crying and she sat with us, immediately taking Penny into her arms and scratching her gently.

“Some asshole – dammit, in the asexual group they were talking about sex repulsion, and some _dickwad_ in the group said you _couldn’t be asexual if you liked having sex_ ,” Neville hissed.

“No!” I gasped.

“Yup,” Neville grunted, “Said that unless you were sex repulsed in some way you weren’t a true asexual and you were an imposter in the community.”

“Oh _no_ ,” I growled angrily.

“I managed to throw him out but the damage was done – there was a lot of arguing and a lot of the younger ones were seriously scarred by the identity policing,” Neville groaned, “Hermione did most of the fighting –“

“It’s just not true! I’m not sex repulsed! I mean I don’t have any interest in sex whatsoever – if the person I was dating wanted to have it and I was emotionally on board I’d do it but I wouldn’t seek it out – he had no idea – how long it took me to realize I was _really asexual_ – because I wasn’t repulsed by the idea – it’s so damaging to say such things!” Hermione screeched, tears escaping from her eyes as she did so.

“I know, Mione, I know, don’t worry, he’s not allowed back in, the prick,” Neville hissed.

“Who was it?” I asked angrily, wanting to punch him for hurting Hermione, and so many others I cared about too.

“Terrence Vanders – fifth year Hufflepuff – little turd – we kicked him out of the bloody room and he won’t be let back in again,” Neville stated firmly.

“Good,” I nodded firmly.

“Now what’s this meeting about?” Hermione asked irritably, looking furious and upset still. Ginny came up to her and gently massaged her shoulders as Penny nestled up closer to her and rubbed against her stomach comfortingly.

“You’ll see,” I sighed softly as the rest of the DA filed in. Valerie, who was nonbinary but identified with straight sexually and romantically and as such didn’t attend the day’s meeting, had grabbed Harry by the arm and pulled her in with her, keeping him as far away from Hermione as possible.

Neville looked at me in concern but I simply shook my head sadly. I didn’t know how to tell him what had happened to me. 

Again.

Well, kind of again.

I squeezed Blue tighter and she chirped in surprise.

“Alright!” Ernie shouted, coming up to the front of the room, “Alright!”

“I think we should have a moment of silence before you start, Ern,” Sam muttered, “For Terry, Chris, and Vanessa.”

“Yeah,” Luna agreed sadly.

“You’re right – this is our first meeting since – yeah,” Ernie sighed, “Alright. Everyone, a moment of silence for our friends.”

Had that really only been a _week_ ago?

I hung my head in silence and remembered Terry’s friendly face, Chris’s excitement, and Vanessa’s youth. I could hear someone crying behind me – I looked to see Elena crying softly as Claire wrapped her arms around her and kissed her on the cheek. I looked away, swallowing with pain and squeezing my eyes shut.

“Alright,” Ernie muttered after a while, “Alright – er – I’m sorry but – we had kind of an urgent thing to discuss –“

“What is it?” Valerie asked quietly, still keeping Harry away from Hermione and even comforting him by holding him around the shoulders (she was taller than him by about three inches).

“The other day, the six of us,” Ernie gestured to Sam, Neville, Ginny, Nadia, and me, who were all standing with him in the front of the room, “Were at the Three Broomsticks –“

“Why?” Luna asked in surprise.

“Just hanging out, wanted a break from everything, so we snuck away,” Nadia shrugged.

“While we were there, Lupin, Sirius, Tonks, and Shae all came into the bar,” Ginny groaned.

“Oh no!” Pete gasped.

“I mean we hid under the table – the fact that they were _there_ wasn’t the actual problem, it was what they _talked about_ ,” I grumbled softly.

“Basically, according to them, the Backlash group that attacked us at Pride parade, are being sanctioned by the Ministry now,” Neville sighed.

“WHAT?!” a chorus went up around the room. Hermione even got to her feet, her fists clenched at her sides in fury.

“Yeah,” Sam nodded, “They have given them Ministry badges and everything.”

“So they’ve taken it upon themselves to attack rebel members – I can only assume they identify them cause of the whole lightening bolt scar thing,” Ernie continued.

“And so the rebels and the Backlash have been fighting in the street, but the Ministry is silencing all of this in the papers,” I murmured.

“Don’t want people to know that they’ve backed a _fucking_ hate group!” Nadia screeched.

“And the rebels still outnumber them, but they’re becoming afraid, between this and going to jail,” Ginny whispered.

“And no one is telling us this because they don’t want us to act or do something stupid,” Sam finished.

“Fuck!” Harry yelled despite himself from the back of the room.

“So what do we do?” Ron demanded, standing up and looking furious.

“I don’t know – we can’t schedule emergency protests this weekend, can we?” Nadia groaned.

“We have to do something!” Luna insisted.

“What if we wrote something in the Quibbler about this happening?” Pete suggested, “It’s like – well – they aren’t writing about it – _someone_ has to report it –“

“But we only have second hand facts,” Kat hissed next to him.

“I’m going to visit my dad this weekend – with – er –“ Claire stammered.

“She’s introducing me as her girlfriend,” Elena clarified, rolling her eyes and blushing.

“We can ask him about what’s happening and maybe investigate,” Claire explained.

“And I want to go out to London anyway – need some potions ingredients,” Katie offered.

“So we’ll send out small envoys to cities, see what the damage is and what’s happening?” I clarified.

“You shouldn’t, but yeah,” Kat agreed, “Then we can write the article. Would your dad publish, Luna?”

“Definitely,” Luna agreed, “He’s furious about all this stuff, same as us.”

“I don’t need to go out anyway,” I shrugged before I could stop myself. Everyone looked at me in confusion, especially Neville.

“Why not?” Neville asked.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to say that,” I mumbled.

“Maggie, you look upset – what’s wrong?” Hermione asked, frowning at me. Everyone around her murmured in agreement. I suppose they didn’t notice that Harry was a wreck, too, because he wasn’t at the front of the room.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I insisted quietly.

“Mags, you were crying when we walked in, I’m kind of going mental with worry right now,” Neville mumbled.

“I just mean that I already know the Ministry is pushing back at us,” I whispered softly, my fingers shaking madly and my heart beating loudly and painfully in my throat. Neville immediately wrapped his arms tightly around me, crouching slightly to be at eye level with me and facing away from the crowd while staring into my eyes intently.

“What happened? Mags, what happened?” he begged, his face white as a sheet and his hands shaking on top of my shoulders.

“I can’t say it,” I whispered.

“You have to tell me,” he begged, tears falling from his eyes, “Mags – Mags – please, if you don’t, you’ll spiral – please – I can’t have you spiral again, I can’t –“

The room was silent, tense and listening to every word.

“My meeting with McGonagall today was because the Ministry transfiguration people were checking to make sure what I said my animagus form w-was correct,” I mumbled.

“Okay,” Neville murmured, his eyes kind and desperate as he stared at me.

“And… they…” I swallowed heavily.

“What did they do?” Hermione asked in a deadly, growling voice.

“They started to molest me,” I began sobbing, “I was a dragon, but that’s what they were doing – they only stopped because McGonagall made them –“

The room went into a roar of fury and outrage. Neville looked at me with the most heartbroken expression on his face, as I burst into tears and collapsed against his chest.

I barely registered what they all were saying.

I was focusing too hard on not being destroyed again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *runs and hides and asks for comments because she knows everyone will be pissed at her and has literally nothing else to say about this one just please comment okay I need them thanks*


	107. Chapter One Hundred and Six: November 8, 1996, Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "There'll be some love makin', heart breakin', soul shakin' love   
> Love makin', heart breakin', soul shakin'... 
> 
> Runnin in and outta my life   
> Has got me so confused   
> You gotta make the sacrifice   
> Somebody's gotta choose   
> We can make it if we try   
> For the sake of you and I   
> Together we can make it right 
> 
> What's it gonna be (don't let go)   
> Don't you want to be (don't let go)   
> Hold me tight and don't let go (don't let go)."   
> ~ En Vogue, "Don't Let Go (Love)"

Chapter 106: November 8, 1996, Hogwarts

I couldn’t stay at the meeting after that. There was nothing more to discuss, and everyone around me was overwhelming anyway. Neville dragged me out of there as quickly as he could, basically picking me up from the ground and carrying me away, the raptors following quickly. No one even stopped us as we left, though I’m sure people wanted to say comforting things to me, I didn’t want to deal with it right then.

My mind was spiraling and I was trying my hardest to keep it from continuing.

I curled up against Neville’s chest and sobbed into it, clutching at his shirt so hard in my fist that my knuckles went white. Neville held me tightly against him, absolutely refusing to let go.

We reached our room and Neville immediately set me down on our bed, the raptors all going over to their own nests as Neville crawled up next to me. He immediately wrapped his arms as tightly around me as he could, squeezing slightly and looking at me with that same heartbroken face as before.

“Mags,” he whimpered, tears flowing from his eyes, “Oh Mags, I’m so sorry.”

“Thank you,” I mumbled quietly, swallowing heavily and squeezing my eyes shut.

“Mags,” he murmured, “We need to talk about it, now, so that you don’t spiral out of control, okay?”

“Okay,” I blubbered, finding it hard to control my tears.

“What happened? Tell me everything,” Neville begged.

“They made me transform into a dragon,” I whispered, “They then started circling around me – it was a man and a woman – and they counted my scales and my horns and looked at my coloration and everything.”

“Alright,” Neville nodded.

“The woman opened my mouth forcibly to look at my teeth – I suppose that should be expected – and they both were looking at my paws and toes and claws and everything,” I breathed in shakily.

“Stands to reason, if a bit invasive,” Neville sighed.

“But then the man lifted up my back leg and insisted at looking at my belly and underside and crotch,” I whimpered, “And McGonagall protested and he said it was standard and then he looked around at my tail and lifted up to look at my butt – with the back end that all it has is my damn cloaca, the one hole dinosaurs and things like them use to do shit with – and he was staring right at it without my permission, it was like staring at my butthole or my vagina and –“

“I’m going to murder him. Please. Please let me murder him,” Neville begged.

“I don’t even know his _name_ –“ I sobbed, crying heavily and holding my head in my hands. Neville immediately wrapped his arms tightly around me and squeezed as much as he could.

“And then McGonagall shouted at him to leave and forced him out, and reassured me a lot, but she thinks they were trying to intimidate me because of what happened to me with George, and – and – oh Neville I’m so scared,” I cried, sobbing horribly into his chest and balling up his shirt in my hands, “I’m so so scared –“

“I’m scared too – Maggie – Maggie I’m so scared too,” Neville agreed, holding me tighter, “I love you so much.”

“I love you so much,” I repeated, blubbering through my tears.

“Look, it’s going to be alright – I know it – I know it’s going to be alright –“ Neville repeated, clearly trying to convince himself.

“How? How can it be? This kind of shit is going to happen to me everywhere – because I’m a woman – of color – with mental illness – who’s queer – and I have the audacity to have pride and bravery and all that – I’m always going to be molested by _someone_ trying to gain power over me and – and – and – Neville,” I sobbed heavily, my breath coming out in short, pained gasps.

“Sweetie – Mags – Mags – please take a deep breath, please,” Neville begged, but I couldn’t comply, my breaths coming in short and fast and hard as I sobbed with overwhelming fear.

It was going to keep happening.

Someone was always going to have an excuse to assault me sexually, or just assault me in general.

I was never going to be free.

“What is it muggles do all the time – saw it on TV – bag, right, breathing into a bag!” Neville, meanwhile, was thinking fast; he got up and dug around in our cabinets in the bathroom to find a bag, running over to me and handing me the contraption. I grabbed the paper bag and put it over my mouth, breathing into it. My breathing began to slow, though my mind was still in a panic, as Neville gently rubbed my back and kissed my on the forehead.

“Maggie, I know, this is all _so shitty_ , and I don’t blame you for panicking, but right now you need to breathe,” Neville urged.

I nodded as I did so, returning to normal and sighing, pulling the bag away from my face.

“I love you,” he begged, reaching out and stroking my cheek with his fingertips.

“I love you,” I responded quietly, swallowing and crying again, the tears silent ones flowing down my cheeks.

“I know, I know this is scary, and you have every right to be scared – and I’m so sorry that I have no answer or solution,” Neville swallowed, “Short of you becoming a man.”

I hiccupped and smiled at him, almost managing a laugh but not quite.

“But I promise that I will always be here to help if it happens again. And you’ll never be in a position like you were in today again, and you know why?” Neville asked quietly.

“Why?” I whispered.

“Because from now on, and I promise I’ll run away with you if that’s the consequence of this so I want nothing to hold you back, from now on if someone from _any_ position of power does something like that to you you transform – if you’re not already – and you _snap their fucking neck_ ,” Neville hissed.

“Can do,” I mumbled.

“And if you don’t, just find me and I’ll do it for you. And then we’ll run,” Neville nodded firmly, “We’ll gather the flock and get the _fuck_ out of here.”

“Thank you,” I smiled weakly and watery before bursting into tears again. Neville gently rubbed my arm and kissed my forehead, murmuring again to me soothingly.

“I love you so much. I promise you’ll be safe. I promise you’ll be safe. We’re doing everything to make this world safe, Mags, and we’re going to succeed, if I have anything to say about it. I promise. It’ll be okay, my love, I promise,” Neville repeated over and over again.

I looked up at him and sniffled, “I can never transform again.”

“Oh Mags,” Neville lamented, “That’s just impractical, for one. Also, you worked so hard to be an animagus – you can’t give that up because some _dick_ did that to you.”

“But I’m so afraid – the thought of transforming – sends me into –“ I started breathing fast again. Neville immediately grabbed the bag and put it near my mouth; I took it and breathed into it, staring deeply into his eyes as he held me tighter around the waist.

“Mags, it’s okay, you’re here with me, he’s not here, I promise,” Neville insisted softly. I nodded and my breathing returned to normal again, me holding tightly around his waist and squeezing.

“I love you so much,” he murmured again.

“I love you so much,” I responded, amazed at how many times we had said this this evening.

“Look, you need to transform right now – like – this evening,” Neville stated calmly. I felt my eyes widen and I tried my hardest to not panic.

“If you don’t, you’ll let that association with your form lie, and you’ll have a harder time doing it. So,” Neville scooted back from me, much to my chagrin, and sat up on the bed, “Do it.”

“Nev –“ I mumbled.

“You have to do it or you might never do it again, and that can’t happen, you _know_ that Mags,” Neville shook his head sadly. I nodded, but I was frozen with fear in my spot, unable to transform or do much of anything.

“Mags, would it help if I wasn’t looking?” Neville offered.

“No, I’m not scared of you,” I mumbled.

“What would help, then?”

“Not transforming,” I whispered.

“Love, you have to, I’m not letting you go on like this,” Neville shook his head.

I sobbed heavily, holding my face in my hands. He scooted back over to me again and hugged me tightly, his arms squeezing around my shoulders and his lips pressed lovingly to my forehead. I sobbed and heaved in his arms, letting my tears fall all over his chest and holding his shirt tightly in my hands. He gently rubbed my arm with his hand, massaging it with his thumb rubbing small circles into my skin. His lips remained planted to my forehead as I felt his own tears fall into my hair. His other hand was tight around my waist, rubbing circles into my back with his other thumb, soothing me as he murmured soft sounds into my hair. My chest heaved and I felt every tear I had left inside of me force itself out of my body, my hands trembling like mad as Neville gently stroked my hair.

“I love you, Mags,” he murmured softly into my hair, “I love you, so much. So, so much.”

I sniffled and hiccupped in his arms, too tired to return the sentiment, though I reached up for his cheek to stroke it to reassure him that I wasn’t having another suicidal spiral.

“You’re going to be okay,” he murmured quietly, “You’re going to get through this and everything else life throws at you because you are the strongest person I know, and I love you so infinitely much.”

“How am I the strongest –“

“You are. Love, so many people would have done so much worse to themselves after what happened to you fourth year. But you _survived_. Dammit, you took some of your agency back – between your lifestyle and your decision to save yourself from this stupid war – it may not have been the smartest decision but it was a major and important one for you taking care of yourself and I am so, so proud of you for taking those steps at the time. You had no idea how self destructive you were even before then – Mags I don’t think there’s ever been a time in my life when I _haven’t_ been worried sick about you. Before you went off the deep end that summer, I was terrified that you’d nobly sacrifice yourself – then all last year I was terrified you’d destroy yourself because you couldn’t handle being alive – and then this year I just know that there’s a war going about our heads and we’re in the center of it – so I’m proud of you for realizing that you have a future that you’re fighting for, and that you should try and live to get to it, and dammit I’ll take worrying about you because we’re in a war over worrying about you because you’re self destructive _any_ day, and I just need you to hold on, Mags, I need you to hol don and stay with me and not spiral again, because last year – it tore me up – and this is a selfish reason but – I just – if it happens again – if you kill yourself again – Mags I won’t stay behind, I’ll follow you – and –“ Neville was rambling so much it was adorable, and I managed a weak and watery smile.

“Sorry,” he murmured sheepishly, “I’m desperate.”

“I know love,” I soothed, stroking his cheek, “It’s alright.”

I remembered that man peering at my ass.

And being too trapped to escape.

I began sobbing again and Neville pulled me into his lap, setting me there and soothing me. He cupped my face in his hands and stroked my cheek with his thumb and fingers, murmuring softly and pressing his forehead and nose to mine.

“Mags, it’s going to be okay. I promise. I swear it. It’s going to be okay. You’re going to be okay. You’re going to be _okay_.”

I nodded, still crying, my eyes starting to hurt and my hands and arms and entire body shaking from head to foot. He held me tighter, now pressing his nose and forehead to mine, murmuring soothingly and crying with me.

“Oh Mags,” he murmured, “Dammit, you don’t deserve this.”

“Thanks,” I mumbled.

“I mean it – this is insane – I would do anything to stop this from happening again,” he whimpered, kissing away some of my tears from my cheeks, “I feel as helpless as you do.”

I nodded, crying harder now, unable to stop the tears even though I so desperately wanted to. He pulled my face to his and kissed me deeply and desperately, and it comforted me rather than scared me – I was human, and there was no where in this world I felt safer than with him.

He pulled away slowly, his lips peeling away from mine delicately and gradually, his eyes never leaving mine as he rubbed his thumbs into my cheeks and chin. I looked at him desperately, hoping to just get lost in his gaze forever, where I would feel safe and loved and okay, but it was hard to forget that I was trapped in a world that wanted to hurt me every single chance it got.

“Mags, we need to – we need to do something to get your mind off this, yeah?” he whispered against my lips, looking desperate and needy as he did so.

“Like what?” I asked quietly, shaking and swallowing heavily.

“Right now we’re both feeling very helpless and hopeless,” Neville murmured, still very close to my face, which comforted me – he smelled like him, of flowers and plants and mist and rain, and it was the best smell in the entirety of the universe.

“Yes,” I nodded.

“You more so than I, of course,” Neville acknowledged. I smiled slightly, though that detail was unimportant to me.

“Well, okay,” he swallowed, “One of the problem is that we have adult responsibilities and expectations when we aren’t actually adults, so we feel like adults but aren’t treated like them, so we end up in situations like you did today where we’re helpless and trapped and have nothing we can do, so all of our agency is taken away in literally a split second.”

I nodded, my eyes filling with tears again as I squeezed him tighter around the waist. I wanted to bury my head in the comfort of his chest, but I knew it would just be better to stare into his chocolate eyes.

“Then let’s think about the future,” he murmured softly, reaching to tuck my hair behind my ear, “Let’s allow ourselves to indulge in thinking about what we would like to do and be and how we would like to live, _together_ , **when** we survive this hellhole. Because we’re going to survive, Maggie, and even if we don’t, imagining the future and preparing for a world in which we do, gives us something to live and hope for. We can feel hope, even if we feel helpless.”

I swallowed and stared at him, “You want to have that conversation now?”

“I do,” he emphasized softly.

“Alright,” I mumbled. Truthfully, I just needed to think about something other than what happened to me; the more I dwelled on it, the worse my feelings of panic and fear seemed to get.

“Alright,” he murmured back, keeping me close to him with his arms wrapped protectively around my back and shoulders. I remained in his lap, my legs curled up between his stomach and mine, his legs crossed around me. I was enveloped in him, and I could only feel and smell and hear and perceive _him_ , and it was the most comforting thing of all.

This was the place where I was loved.

This was the place where I was safe.

“Well, I want to be with you forever,” I murmured quietly. He laughed, his eyes still staring deeply into mine, his forehead and nose pressed to mine.

“Well good, because I want to be with you forever, too. I think we established that when we first kissed, though,” Neville grinned slightly.

“I know, but I wanted to say it again,” I whispered, “Because of how safe I feel right now, enveloped up in you.”

He smiled more, and it was a watery smile as tears formed in his eyes again.

“And I feel so safe with you wrapped up in me,” he reassured softly, “You might be smaller than me, but you can kick my ass, and the ass of anyone who might come close to me.”

“Yup,” I agreed, even managing some brightness to my tone. Neville laughed softly and kissed me lightly on the nose.

“Alright, so we have that bit settled. We’re in this for as long as we can be,” Neville nodded firmly. I smiled at him, already feeling cheered and the discussion hadn’t even really started.

“So… kids,” Neville continued softly, “We know we want them, but we kind of left the number vague.”

“We kind of have to,” I countered, “I don’t know how many kids I’ll have per pregnancy. Anywhere between two and sixteen!”

“You’re right,” Neville groaned, “Er… what _can_ we control on that, then?”

“I think pregnancies? We can’t control the number within each but we can control how many times I’m inseminated,” I laughed. Neville blushed and grinned slightly.

“Such clinical terms about me making love with you,” he laughed. I flushed with him now.

“I can’t help it, that’s my automatic way of handling an awkward conversation,” I giggled.

“Well, how many times would you be okay getting pregnant? Provided one doesn’t end up being… sixteen… as in obviously I don’t expect this rule to hold if you have an _insane_ pregnancy,” Neville clarified.

“Between two and three,” I answered honestly.

“Oh? What’s the reasoning?” Neville asked, smiling.

“Well, I don’t want to have just one. I mean I don’t want them to feel ostracized or not really have anyone else in the family. But I don’t think I could handle more than three pregnancies. So. Two being the smallest number, three the largest,” I shrugged.

“That seems reasonable,” Neville smiled slightly, “And is there a number cap, or no?”

“I don’t think we can have one,” I laughed, “You sure you want a big family?”

“Absolutely one hundred percent sure,” Neville breathed, lightly kissing me on the lips, his pressed gently into mine so softly that it was as though feathers were brushing up against them. He pulled back and swallowed, staring at me sadly, “Unless you don’t.”

“I do, I do want a big family,” I reassured, my heart getting warmer at the thought and everything tingling a little bit, “I want to see all the little kids running around and playing and being happy and safe and with us and looking like you and me and I just. Yes. Yes I do.”

He pulled me in for a longer kiss now, pressing his lips hard to mine, his fingers burying in my hair. I breathed sharply against his mouth, surprised by his urgency as his lips moved frantically against my own. He tightened his grip around my waist and pulled me up as close to him as he could, murmuring softly against me and making sure no inch of me wasn’t close to him. I sighed happily into his lips, unable to stop myself as I wrapped my legs around his waist, and my arms tightly around his shoulders. I could feel his muscles move underneath my arms as I held onto him, and I sighed as I felt his chest press into mine, everything just turning into him. I could almost forget what had happened to me today.

And then, of course, I started to remember again, just at that idle thought. I couldn’t stop the tears from escaping my eyes, so Neville quickly pulled back and wiped them from my eyes, murmuring softly and soothingly as he did so.

“Alright, alright – so we’ve established number – kind of – er – do we want to talk about names?” he asked softly.

“I’d actually rather not,” I murmured.

“Oh thank god,” he breathed.

“It just feels too much like jinxing it –“ I continued.

“Definitely,” Neville nodded.

“So we’re just going to wait until – when?” I asked.

“You get pregnant?” Neville offered, his hand resting on my stomach almost instinctually. I blushed and smiled weakly at him at that. He immediately flushed and moved it away to my back, but I reached around with my arms to put it back on my stomach.

“There’s nothing there, but eh, it’s soft and I enjoy feeling you touch my stomach,” I smiled.

He grinned back slightly, “Hey, no one’s tummy is as soft as mine.”

“Well, mine isn’t, I’ll give you that,” I beamed, leaning up and kissing him very softly. I ran my hands through his curly brown hair, enjoying how long it had gotten without this Gran breathing down his neck all the time, tugging on the soft curls to stretch them out. His beard prickled me as we kissed, short hairs tickling my cheeks and chin and upper lip, comforting me as our lips moved against each other again.

“So,” Neville breathed, pulling away but keeping his forehead and nose pressed to mine, staring into my eyes and breathing so close to me that I could feel it on my lips, “Er… we both still want to be professors, right?”

“Yeah,” I nodded, “If Hogwarts is still standing when everything’s done.”

“Cool… where do you want to live?” Neville began, “I mean, I think a lot of the professors live in Hogsmeade… I wouldn’t mind that…”

“I think I would honestly,” I frowned, “I don’t think I’d like having so many people around all the time. I dunno. It’s one of my least favorite parts of living in the city, when I have.”

“Ah,” Neville frowned, “I was kinda looking forward to us living in a little cottage on the street, but, I can understand that.”

“I’m sorry love,” I frowned, “We can try it, at least before we have a thousand children.”

Neville laughed appreciatively, “Well I dunno. My other thing is I don’t know where else we’d live, especially with the thousand children. Can’t exactly have them all in Hogwarts, can we?”

“That’s true,” I admitted, “I kind of… imagined… something else.”

“Commuting? I just don’t think that’s practical, especially when we have to go on patrol,” Neville frowned.

“No, I mean… er…. I thought about us building a cottage, out in the woods,” I admitted sheepishly.

“Oh, er,” Neville frowned, “I dunno, Mags. I mean I’m not as scared of it as I was but I wouldn’t want to _live_ out there.”

“Well maybe not in the woods, but, on the edge of the forest… I’ve been there so many times… it’s very safe, in this meadow place between the forest and the mountains. I like it there a lot, there’s lots of space, and we could maybe build a fence so when we have the thousand children they can’t escape – or the flock, at least – and then we’d have plenty of space far away from other people,” I explained quietly.

“And what about getting to work? You ran through the forest but I wouldn’t be able to do that so easily,” Neville laughed a little.

“Oh… yeah,” I lamented, “We could… crap.”

“Hogsmeade might be our best bet, Mags,” Neville lamented.

“But I don’t _want_ to live there,” I mumbled in annoyance, “I don’t like it there. They attacked my friends for being American and not white and dragons.”

“I know,’ Neville agreed sadly, “Presumably by then we’d have fixed a lot of the major problems.”

“If only,” I mumbled.

“Or, conversely, we could live on the edge of the woods, or just inside it,” Neville offered.

“I just don’t know how we’d have enough space for all of us,” I sighed, “This corner of the forest has _so much_ space. Much more than Hogsmeade could provide, too.”

“That’s fair,” Neville scratched the back of his head, “It’s just that commute.”

“Well we could apparate to Hogsmeade, and then walk up to the castle?” I offered.

“Huh,” Neville frowned, “I like that idea, actually. The circle of non-apparition doesn’t extend that far?”

“I don’t think so, since the Death Eaters probably apparate to there and then walk through the woods,” I nodded, “We’d have to talk to Dumbledore or McGonagall about it.”

“Alright,” Neville nodded, “Well I’m okay with keeping that as an option. Giant house at the end of the Hogsmeade street seems like the only other one.”

I laughed, “Alright, yeah, I can accept that.”

He gently kissed me again, running his hands and fingers over my face and murmuring softly as he did so. It comforted me greatly, making me relax even more in his arms.

“So,” he breathed, “Er… this is the big one, I guess.”

“The big one?” I asked in confusion.

“Would you want to get married?” he asked softly.

“Oh,” I murmured, my breath leaving my lips rapidly, “Er…”

“I know it’s very patriarchal,” Neville immediately interjected, “And kind of shitty in general, like, you are basically being transferred as property, and I don’t want you to change your name, and I don’t know what I want our kids’ last name to be but I wouldn’t ask them to just be mine, and I’d have to pose as a boy, which is shitty, but –“

“There’s actually a reason to do it?” I asked in surprise.

“But it’ll make us legally a family,” Neville murmured quietly, looking sad, “And I don’t want one of us to end up in a muggle hospital for whatever reason and not being able to visit each other. There are a lot of benefits by the government if you’re married, and I know that it’s terrible and it’s just a way to keep marriage alive, but I don’t want to miss out on any of them – what if the Ministry starts doing terrible things and we can’t see each other because it’s like Nazi Germany or something and the only way we’d stay together is if we were married – or what if we can’t find each other and no one will help us look for one another because we aren’t married – I just – I can’t have stupid government regulations keep me from being able to do everything in my power to stay with you and – I’m sorry, it’s less than ideal, but I’m picking my battles.”

I watched him for a long time. He had a point.

“Alright,” I smiled a little, “I don’t mind the idea of pledging my commitment to you, at any rate, so there’s that. It’ll just be gross for a day.”

“And then we’ll celebrate the security it brings in a very non-gross manner, I promise Mags,’ Neville nodded rapidly.

“On one condition,” I smiled wickedly.

“Oh no,” Neville groaned.

“We live in the woods,” I grinned. Neville groaned louder and held his head in his hands.

“Alright, I’ll give it more of a shot,” he amended, “But if it’s impractical with our jobs, Mags, it’s impractical with our jobs.”

“Fine,” I laughed, “Do we need to _plan_ this wedding, or can we just wing it?”

“I wouldn’t want it to be a big thing at all – no no!” Neville immediately interjected, “No I just want the marriage part. A giant party? Where we state what everyone already knows? I think just getting it done would be best.”

“So… when would we do this?” I asked in surprise.

“Er… I hadn’t thought through that. I thought you’d put up more of an argument, to be honest,” Neville admitted sheepishly.

“I mean I don’t like a lot of things about marriage but the things you mentioned were a good point – we will have more rights when it comes to each other and will have a safety net. Why not take advantage of that?” I agreed, “I don’t want to have to be kept apart from you dying in a hospital either.”

“Who knows what the Ministry will do to St. Mungo’s – we might not be able to use it – and –“ Neville began rambling, looking a little scared, as though I was going to change my mind with more thought on the subject.

“Neville, please,” I murmured softly, reaching up to hold his face in my hand, “I agree, we should do this. I’m legitimately just asking what you were considering for ‘when.’”

“Well, since I thought I’d have to persuade you more, I hadn’t thought of a specific time,” he sighed, “So, I have no idea. Er. We could just go do it now.”

I laughed out loud, “Don’t you think McGonagall would have a bloody heart attack if she found out?”

“Good point,” Neville laughed.

“I do feel the urgency though,” I murmured softly, “What if something happens to one of us now?”

I was reminded again. I began shaking from head to foot. What if McGonagall hadn’t been able to help? What if I had been alone with him? I knew from Ernie that Ministry employees weren’t above rape as an intimidation tool. What would have done to me? I could feel my fingers and arms and legs and feet shake like mad and Neville immediately squeezed me tightly, holding to me and murmuring softly. His lips were pressed to my forehead and he was crying, tears falling into my hair and onto my skin.

“Mags, it’s okay, Mags,” he murmured softly, “We’re too young right now anyway, yeah? I’m sixteen. I’m not sure what the age is for marriage but I’m sure they won’t let us get married now anyway. We’ll do it when we can, and until then we’ll just stick by each other as much as we can. I’m not leaving your side again.”

“Oh that’s ridiculous,” I sniffled, “I understand and appreciate that, but that’s ridiculous.”

“I know,” he whispered, before bursting into tears. I held his face in surprise as he fell onto the bed, falling with him while still tangled up in his arms and legs. He pulled me closer to him and held me tightly, pressing my face into his chest and sobbing into my hair.

“I can’t believe I wasn’t there to help. This happened to you in the same damn castle that I was in and I wasn’t around to help and to rescue you. I couldn’t help you. I promised I’d make sure nothing like that ever happened to you again and look – I broke my promise – I broke my promise – and you got hurt – Mags I’m so sorry – I’m so sorry – I’m so sorry –“

“Neville,” I mumbled, crying softly myself, “Neville, it wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have known that would happen. I didn’t.”

“I just want to keep you safe – why is that too much to ask?” he whimpered, “Dammit!”

I watched in shock as he got up from the bed, leaving me exposed and alone and sad instantly, so instantly that tears flowed from my eyes rapidly in shock. He then pounded his fists against the wall, crying horrifically and weeping as he hit the wall over and over again.

“I’m never going to be able to keep you safe,” he finally whispered after a while, the raptors all making sounds of distress and me watching him in fear, shivering in my spot without him there to hold me.

“Nev?” I mumbled.

“Yeah?” he responded quietly.

“Please come back,” I begged.

He immediately turned back around and crawled back into bed, holding me tightly to him again and wiping away the tears from my face, cupping my cheek in his hand and sighing.

“I’m sorry. I’m just. I’m at the end of my rope. Remind me why we aren’t running away again?” he whispered.

“Because we can’t abandon Harry,” I mumbled.

“Let’s take him too. Let’s take all of our friends. We’re all going to die if we don’t,” Neville whimpered, looking desperate, “I just want us to be able to be together.”

“I wish we could,” I whispered, “I wish we could.”

“Mags,” Neville mumbled, “I love you so much.”

“I love you so much, Nev,” I responded softly, reaching out to trace his lips with my fingertips, making him shiver beneath my touch, “And we’re going to do everything we can to have this future we want.”

“Okay, yeah, let’s keep talking,” Neville whispered, “So… _Draco prima_.”

“Draco prima,” I agreed, smiling slightly.

“I think that that’s what we should do in the summers. Go looking for that. We’ll need _something_ to do before we have kids, and why not that? And if we still want to when we have kids, we can just take them with,” Neville smiled, “Once they’re big enough.”

“Dino digs with the Longson family?” I laughed.

“Longson?” he giggled back, smiling at me.

“Well, I don’t want to change my name, and you don’t want to change yours, so I combined them,” I smiled.

“Longson or Johnbottom. Not sure which is worse,” Neville snorted.

“Or we can come up with something else, I dunno. I like the idea of our family having one name, but I don’t know what that name could be,” I admitted.

“That’s a good idea,” Neville smiled, “But I vote we make up an entirely new name, as Longson and Johnbottom are _terrible_.”

“Oh alright,” I giggled.

“But yeah, dino digs. And I dunno, we’ll have to study for muggle uni again – and soon – I don’t want to lose time on that because of a war,” Neville murmured quietly.

“I agree,” I muttered, “But there’s only so much we can do.”

“True,” Neville paused to kiss me softly on the lips, “Anything else you can think of, my love?”

“I like the image of us retiring at the same time,” I whispered hoarsely, “With us getting a small house by a loch somewhere – I dunno where – surrounded by a bunch of dinosaurs, watching the water go peacefully by, and reading books together. Occasionally we’ll get letters from our children; occasionally they’ll visit with _their_ children. But we’re at peace, and no one’s out to get us, and you’ll be holding my hand and they’ll both be wrinkly, and you’ll smile and it’ll still make my heart melt.”

Neville burst into tears again and pulled me in for a long kiss, holding to me lovingly and wrapping me up in his arms.

“I guess,” I breathed as I pulled away, absolutely breathless from the kiss, “I don’t picture specific details about what I would like in our lives. I just see images.”

“Give me another image,” Neville murmured desperately, “I want to see what you see.”

“We’ve had our first kids,” I smiled softly, and Neville started crying again, “And they’re adorable and small and so many different skin colors, between you being the palest person alive and me being as dark as you can be with my background. And you’re holding one of them in your arms for the first time and they grab your finger, and you can’t help how happy you are, you just watch them forever while they sleep and make small sounds in their sleep and fuss on occasion.”

Neville continued to cry, and he looked at me desperately again, so I knew I needed another picture.

“We’re in our house, and we have this huge room filled with books. They’re books on magic and science and everything in between, and it’s organized so carefully, and you can just get lost among them. One of our kids is reading them all the time, and keeps getting them out of order, but we don’t care because we’re so happy that our baby is learning so much and so voraciously. When we run out of space in the library, they let us start keeping books in their room,” I laughed weakly.

“I like that,” Neville smiled weakly, “I hadn’t thought about a library but I really like that idea.”

“I picture… before we have kids, us sitting on a couch together. I think I’m pregnant sometimes, other times not. And I’m just nestled in your arms, kind of lying on top of you, with you enveloping me as we watch the fire crackle in the fireplace. We aren’t saying much… when I’m pregnant in this one, you rest your hands on my stomach… occasionally you’ll turn my face to yours and I’ll stare at you lovingly before finally giving in for a kiss… and I’ll just be so at peace…” I murmured.

Neville kissed me again, and I sighed into his mouth, enjoying as he held to me tightly in the here and now.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you,” I responded, pulling him in for a kiss now, pulling him on top of me and letting me feel his weight interlock with mine. It was always a good feeling; sometimes I’d get a little scared, but right now after so much comforting and reassurance it was like having the softest, warmest blanket of all on top of me, and it was a blanket of him, kissing me and shifting a little as he did so, stroking my face and holding me with his other arm around the shoulders and back. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and I sighed happily, just allowing myself to get lost in his kisses and his softness and his goodness. That was all I needed, for the rest of my life.

“You,” he murmured softly, “Are my soulmate.” He was pulled back from me again, lips close to mine, nose touching mine, forehead touching mine.

“And you are my soulmate,” I responded softly, reaching out to gently caress his cheek beneath my fingertips, “And we’re in this together, forever.”

“Forever, however long that is for us,” Neville agreed.

“I wonder what it’s like to be a normal teenager,” I murmured idly. Neville laughed and pressed his head into my shoulder, making me giggle and scratch the back of his head lovingly.

“I have no idea, but at the very least I have the frame of mind to realize hey! Life is short, and you know what, I care about you more than I care about having these ‘life experiences’ people always talk about when they say why settling down fast is dumb. You know what I think? I think not spending as much time as possible with someone you love, if you’re sure about them, is dumb,” Neville snorted.

“I agree,” I murmured, kissing the side of his head, “Ah well. Their lost.”

“Indeed,” Neville agreed, now removing himself from lying on top of me, making me feel cold and lonely. I immediately sat up with him and dove into his lap, resting my head on his crossed legs and sighing as he gently stroked my hair.

“So… how are you feeling Mags?” Neville asked softly.

“Not fully better, but this helped a lot. Thank you Nev,” I murmured softly.

“Anything else you want to talk about for our future?” Neville asked quietly, stroking my hair rhythmically and tenderly.

“Just that as long as I’m with you, everything else is details,” I murmured.

“Same, Mags,” Neville smiled at me lovingly, “Same.”

I looked over at the clock; it was getting fairly late. The raptors had all fallen asleep, and I could feel my eyelids droop a little.

“Maggie, before we sleep, you have to transform,” Neville murmured.

“Really?” I sighed.

“Really. I know you’re scared, but the sooner you get back on the horse, the easier it’ll be,” Neville insisted.

I knew he had a point. I sat up from his lap and looked at him, so scared at the idea of transforming that I began to shake a little. He reached out and held my face gently, making me calm some.

“I’m here, you’re safe, and no one’s going to hurt you. I promise,” Neville whispered.

I nodded.

It was now or never.

“I love you, Neville,” I murmured.

“I love you, Mags,” he whispered.

I squeezed my eyes shut, fought the bile rising in my throat, and forced myself to take that form that I was all too familiar with. I opened my eyes and stared at Neville, him much more bright and colorful than when I was a human, with so many more shades of blue that it was a wonder humans didn’t die of boredom from their limited color range.

“Take deep breaths,” he murmured softly. I did as he instructed, forcing air in and out of my lungs as I perched on our bed, feeling my tail hang over the edge of it as I did so.

“Let yourself feel all of your parts,” he continued, not breaking eye contact with me. I forced myself to think of every aspect of my dragon body – my mouth, my muzzle, my horns, my neck, my head, my shoulders and back and spine and wings and four legs and paws and claws and scales and small protofeathers and long tail and underbelly and butt and small club at the end of my tail. I took ragged breaths when I thought of certain parts, but staring at Neville helped me regain my composure, focusing on how these things were a part of _me_ , and no matter what people did to them, that would not be taken away from me.

“You’re a very amazing person, Mags,” Neville murmured softly, “The most amazing woman on the planet, and the most awe-inspiring dragon.”

I laughed weakly, small puffs of smoke escaping my mouth.

“I mean it. You’re beautiful – in the sense that an animal is aesthetically beautiful,” Neville explained, “When I see you fight in the sky, I’m always mesmerized. It’s like watching a ballet of shining, ocean colored scales, just twisting around themselves and sparkling in the sunlight as you dive and destroy a giant. You are power and beauty and grace and ferocity and it is inspiring and terrifying all at the same time. Do you remember when you freaked out about the health care situation with magic?”

I nodded; that felt like ages ago.

“I knew I should have been terrified – you were on a murderous rampage, a blind one, and could have hurt me so easily – but I didn’t care. I trusted you, even though I was terrified. I stood in your path, knowing there was no other way to calm down, but I nearly wet myself,” Neville laughed a little. I laughed with him, coughing up more smoke that he quickly waved away with his hands.

“You are a monster, and a beautiful one, and you will easily destroy anyone who comes after you again. I don’t care if they’re from the Ministry. Nothing can be worse than what they’re already doing to you – might as well turn about, swipe at him with your claws, and break his neck in half,” Neville stated decisively, nodding his head firmly, “You must.”

I nodded again in agreement. I felt my fire return to my belly and overtake it in a storm of anger.

“You are not their submissive puppet. You saved the prisoners because they needed you, not because you had accepted defeat. And they will never, _ever_ , defeat you, because you are Maggie bloody Johnson, dragon animagus and dinosaur necromancer, the sister of Harry Potter, the best mate of Hermione Granger, the soulmate of Neville Longbottom, and you will destroy worlds if it means making sure that no one ever makes you feel like you did today again,” Neville stated firmly.

I nodded with him, my tail twitching and my legs spreading a little. I was getting used to my dragon body again.

“And if you can’t attack them for whatever reason, just let me know, and I’ll be on the case. No one – _no one_ – is going to touch you ever, ever again,” Neville hissed.  

I transformed back; I needed to hug him. I dove at him and held him in my arms, squeezing slightly as I did so. He sighed happily and wrapped his arms around me back, squeezing me with equal fervor and kissing me on the forehead.

“Thank you,” I murmured.

“You’re welcome my love. I’m going to do everything I can to help you through this,” he whispered.

I sat there in his arms for a long time, pressing my ear up against his chest and listening to his heart beat nice and steadily.

“If only I had opened up to you after what George did,” I murmured.

“You were scared, and there was so much going on,” Neville murmured, “If anything, I should have insisted on talking to you.”

“You wanted to give me space,” I reassured softly.

“That’s true," Neville admitted, “Well, it all worked out in the end.”

I looked up at him and kissed him, and he held to me lovingly as we kissed. He gently stroked my face and caressed my back, and I held to his waist and enjoyed feeling his fat under my hands, giving me something soft and warm to hold onto.

Soft and warm.

That was my Neville.

He pulled away, his lips lingering again, staring at me and smiling with devotion.

“Are you ready for sleep, Mags?” he asked quietly.

“Yes,” I murmured softly, “I can’t promise no nightmares, but yes.”

“That’s fine,” Neville nodded, “I’ll help you through them.”

We dressed into our pajamas and crawled into bed, him immediately pulling me onto his chest as he lied down on his back. I nestled up against it, listening to his heartbeat once more, lulled by the repetitive sound to sleep.

When I woke up with nightmares, he kissed me and soothed me and held me as tightly as he could.

I was strong, like he said, and I could always get through anything on my own, even if it took a while. After all, when I had been on the run, I was on the verge of making my way back home.

But it always helped so, _so_ much to have him on my team.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for being so understanding during the last chapter - and thank you for your comments! Please, please, please keep them coming! Thanks!


	108. Chapter One Hundred and Seven: November 9-13, 1996, Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "All the way at the bottom   
> Of the barrels we cry out   
> So ashamed of our tears that   
> We blame only ourselves   
> That's when they win   
> They keep us convinced   
> To lift up our chins   
> These playing fields are level   
> We all have a chance   
> With that they dismiss   
> The fast lanes they rode   
> In which access depends   
> On who you know   
> Or where you came from   
> Whose daughter are you?   
> Whose fortunate son?   
> We're told   
> To stick out our thumbs   
> They feast from the linens   
> While we settle for crumbs 
> 
> Is this an over-reaching arm?   
> Or is this compassion?   
> Is this a handout undeserved?   
> Or a just reparation?   
> (A just reparation) 
> 
> All the way from the towers   
> High above glass ceilinged tombs   
> Tell themselves   
> That they've earned this   
> By working hard   
> And playing by the rules   
> But this is only part true   
> A dangerous trick   
> Played on me and you   
> And so like a practical joke   
> We pulled on these bootstraps   
> So hard that they broke."   
> ~ Rise Against, "Disparity By Design"

Chapter 107: November 9 – 13, 1996, Hogwarts

That weekend I had the energy to do… nothing. I was still tired and dazed after what had happened to me, and the last thing I wanted to do was to go outside my room and do things.

Neville had helped me to not spiral, but that didn’t change the fact that I was just _tired_. Of _Everything_. Of the _world_ I was forced to live in.

I was mad, and too tired to do anything about it, so I just sat in my room. Neville sat with me and we did our homework, as the raptors cuddled with us and played with their toys, and it was in general a fairly relaxing day – something I desperately needed.

But I had to go to class eventually, and so that Monday I managed to force myself out of my room and back out into the school. I left as late as I could, and I let the Flock follow me for once, heading down to Defense with them and Neville by my side.

“Hey Maggie,” Harry greeted quietly at the Defense classroom. I swallowed and nodded at him, staring mostly at my lap.

“Maggie is very tired,” Neville murmured softly, “And while she is certainly doing better than in other certain times of her life, she still needs some space and some quiet, I think, and a general era of calm.”

“Can do,” Harry nodded, turning to his books and reading his potions textbook before class started.

I looked at Neville thankfully and he lightly kissed me on the forehead, rubbing my back lovingly as we sat and waited for class to start.

“Why are you studying potions?” I asked Harry softly, nestling under Neville’s arm as he wrapped it tightly around my shoulder.

“Oh, er,” Harry paused – he still looked halfway to suicidal, but he was trying for me, which I really appreciated, “I’m doing better in potions than with Snape, but still not excellently, and Dumbledore wants me to impress Slughorn.”

“ _Why_?” Neville and I demanded in shocked unison.

“No idea,” Harry paused, “Oh alright, I have something of an idea. Slughorn has a memory.”

“A memory of what?” Neville furthered.

“Basically he has this funky memory of Voldemort asking him about something. But he tampered with the memory, because whatever it was he was ashamed of it, or something. So I need to try to get the right memory back,” Harry explained softly.

“What else have you learned about good old Voldy pants from Dumbledore?” I asked curiously.

“Lot’s of things. I keep going to his office for extra lessons since… well, it’s a way for me to distract myself from everything,” Harry sighed and shrugged, “Even before the big blowup.”

“Yeah, I get that,” I nodded.

“And I haven’t wanted to share because… we haven’t made up yet,” Harry continued equally quietly.

“Do you want to tonight?” Neville offered.

“I’d enjoy that, if you’re up for it, Maggie,” Harry looked at me sadly, “I’ve been… pretty lonely these past two days, but I knew you needed your space.”

“I think I should be fine,” I reassured softly, “At the very least, I’d like to know what you know.”

“As would I,” Neville agreed.

“So… Room of Requirement? Tonight?” Harry asked hopefully.

“Definitely. After dinner,” Neville smiled. Sirius walked into the room, then, and we thus had class; everyone pretty much gave me space, which I appreciated greatly.

Hermione didn’t have much to say during Arithmancy; she just gave me a small, sad smile and we worked on our formulae, talking little and mentioning nothing of import.

But of course, next was Spellweaving, in which Neville would have to leave me.

“I’ve got her, Nev,” Hermione reassured quietly, “And the Flock is here, and Sam and Ernie are in this class, and –“

“No offense, Hermione, but Maggie can take care of herself enough. McGonagall couldn’t spare her from everything that happened to her, and the only person I trust to be an extra layer of protection is me,” Neville stated dully as we left Arithmancy, “But I can’t stay. I’m going to go work on my plants.” He left, and I felt cold and scared, but I knew we couldn’t stay by each other’s side all the time.

“I’m sorry you got attacked, Maggie,” Hermione murmured as we walked together to Spellweaving.

“I am too,” I murmured quietly, “But let’s just… let’s just get to class.”

Hermione sighed and followed me, looking sad as we entered the classroom and sat next to each other. She wrapped her arms around me for a hug, and it comforted me a lot, as the raptors all sat around me and enveloped me in a giant ball of fluffy warmth.

“Well, Ron’s on board.”

I looked up to see Ernie walking into the room, sitting down next to us and comfortingly patting me on the shoulder. I smiled weakly at him.

“What are you talking about?” Hermione asked curiously.

“First – sorry Maggie, I’m so sorry about what happened –“ Ernie began.

“I don’t think I want to dwell on it much anymore,” I admitted quietly.

“That’s fair. Shall I distract you?” Ernie offered.

“Yes,” I laughed softly, “So what did Ron agree to?”

“He agreed to Luna and my project idea,” Ernie beamed.

“Oh get on with it,” Hermione rolled her eyes.

“We want to set up health clinics around the country,” Ernie explained, “Just for wixen, but maybe when the war’s over for everyone.”

“I’m assuming these health clinics have a specific purpose?” I asked curiously.

“Yeah – to give back the trans resources,” Ernie stated softly.

“How will you have the money for that?” Hermione gasped.

“Well Ginny is going to run that charity drive for it, once we tell her what it’s for. And Dumbledore’s promised to donate a _lot_ to it – and we think we can get resources from other locations as well,” Ernie nodded firmly.

“Like?” I frowned.

“My… great aunt is quite ill,” Ernie admitted.

“Oh no,” Hermione sighed, “I’m so sorry Ernie.”

“I don’t care. She was a bitch,” Ernie shrugged, “When I was told I was trans she told my parents to ignore it and has been referring to me as a girl since I was a young child.”

“Bullshit,” I sneered.

“Well, she’s very wealthy, so, when she dies my parents have agreed to use the money she’ll give to them for… this,” Ernie grinned positively _wickedly_.

“Brilliant,” Hermione laughed.

“And until then we have our start up money from Dumbledore. We plan on just going from city to city with a booth, sticking in an advertisement – giving people discounted hormones, like they only have to pay us a small amount, and information on gender presentation and gender identity, so at least nonbinary people might have an idea of where to start. We can’t start giving surgeries yet, but if we get… well it’s one of our goals for the future, to start providing magical surgeries, and completely replace the Ministry in its role in this matter. Give the power back to us,” Ernie nodded firmly.

“That’s brilliant,” I laughed, “Truly brilliant.”

“Will you all be safe?” Hermione asked worriedly.

“Well the Order was in favor of the idea, so they’ll be sending security,” Ernie frowned, “But yeah, it’s a risk. I think it’s worth it though. My parents can _just_ cover the costs of my hormones – and what about those who can’t? So many people are going to get really, _really_ sick… we have to do something.”

“Hear hear,” Sam joked, grinning cheekily as he sat down next to us.

“Oh shove off,” Ernie stuck his tongue out at Sam.

“What is happening?” Hermione asked in utter confusion.

“They’re flirting,” I muttered very quietly under my breath. Hermione frowned at me, clearly not having understood me; Sam also clearly didn’t hear me and was raising an eyebrow at me. Only Ernie had heard, and he had proceeded to flick me in the arm.

“What did you say?” Hermione asked, looking chiefly annoyed.

“Just that Ernie says ‘hear hear’ a lot, and Sam was making fun of him,” I shrugged.

“I could have said that,” Sam rolled his eyes.

“Alright then,” Hermione rolled her eyes, looking still confused, “Well, still, Ernie, that’s a brilliant idea.”

“Hopefully Ginny will be on board with helping to organize the charity thing. Obviously I’ll be in charge but I am not as good as such social functions as she is,” Ernie sighed.

“You’re better than Ron and Luna,” Sam pointed out.

“Yes, and at what cost?” Ernie rolled his eyes.

“Your sanity, probably,” I grinned.

“I never had any of that, so are you saying I have negative sanity?” Ernie raised an eyebrow.

“That is _exactly_ what I am saying,” I nodded.

“Alright class, settle down, settle down,” Flitwick ordered, “Please, resume practicing with your non-dominant elements – you need to be able to manipulate them, as well, before we start inventing spells –“

I returned to work, grunting with effort as I moved water, earth, and air around. It wasn’t as hard as starting to manipulate, but it was certainly harder than fire was now.

As such, all five of us were concentrating extensively on that task, rather than discussing trans clinics or charity drives.

After class, Hermione retreated to the Library, Sam and Ernie to their common rooms, and I went up to the Room of Requirement, the flock following me and chirping happily. I needed to relax in a safe space and cuddle with them in a giant pile of fluff. Otherwise, I’d probably spiral and start thinking about things that I didn’t want to.

I reached the room and opened the door; however, I was not going to be the only person in there this evening.

“Oh! Hey,” Kat greeted, looking startled and sad, “Sorry, I can go –“

“It’s okay,” I smiled weakly, “You were here first –“

“I just wanted time alone. Everything’s been really overwhelming lately. But you need the room more than me, so –“

“Alone time is just as good a reason anything, and you were here first –“ I reiterated.

“Really, it’s fine,” Kat insisted, getting up and leaving the room before I could protest any more. I sighed and sat on the couch, the flock immediately surrounding me, now worried if she was doing okay. All of this – everything happening with the war – all of it was too much for any of us.

We were all just kids who weren’t allowed to have lives.

Kids turned into tiny soldiers without a choice or even knowing that that’s what we were getting into.

I sighed heavily again and stared out at the wall. What would I have been like, had I just been a normal teenager? What would Harry? Neville? Hermione? Any of us?

I was so overwhelmed that I lied down on the couch. The raptors cuddled around me and I had the Room produce a bigger couch, more like a bed now, for them all to surround me in floof. Blue got the prime spot of cuddling next to my head. Ave immediately went on the other side, while Deena and Mong both laid down on my stomach. Penny thus perched on my legs, and I was crushed a little bit, but they were dinosaurs and thus lightweight and I didn’t mind.

Blue chirped at me and I mimicked her sound, too tired to try and speak English to her. She chirped again and I was so tired that I just sort of devolved into making raptor sounds, though I didn’t understand them. Blue seemed to be amused, though, so I must have sounded extra stupid to her. I continued to converse with her, chirping and hissing though I didn’t know what I was saying, and she continued to try and get me to say things that made sense back.

 _I wonder if I could ever learn_ , I thought idly as we had a very one-sided conversation. It would be nice to talk to her for real.

“What _are_ you doing?”

I looked up – well, I struggled to, with all the raptors on me – to see Neville standing in the doorway, looking as tired as I felt but very amused. I _had_ just been chirping nonsense after all.

“Trying to learn the language of the _Velociraptor_ ,” I laughed.

“Of course,” Neville rolled his eyes, “Alright flock, get up, I get prime cuddle spot.”

I giggled more than I had in days as the shoved his way in, pulled me up from my lying down position, and held me against him. The raptors all reassembled on the giant couch, Deena taking her favorite spot in Neville’s lap and Blue settling into mine, with Ave between us and Mong on my other side and Penny on Neville’s. He made a small sound of happiness and we cuddled more, just resting against each other, my head in his shoulder and his on top of mine.

“I love you,” I murmured softly against his soft neck.

“I love you,” he responded equally quietly, and I knew that even if I had had my childhood robbed from me, at least I had been given this as a consolation prize.

“Hey guys.”

We looked up and saw Harry walk in, smiling apologetically, intense sadness written all over his face.

“No, that’s why we’re here – tell us everything you’ve learned,” Neville demanded instantly, shifting a little to look at him better as he sat down in a chair that he made across from us.

“Well, the first thing he showed me – Voldemort’s relatives again, the Gaunts,” Harry began, looking very tired, “Morfin was still alive, but Marvolo had died… he was living in filth and quite mental, too… very violent, tried to attack Voldemort straight away…”

“Not really a surprise, that,” I sighed.

“No,” Harry agreed, “Apparently he thought that Voldemort was, well, his muggle dad, since he looked a lot like him. So Morfin told him all about the muggle that had run away with his late sister, only to leave her and come back. In irony of ironies, Morfin called Voldemort’s dad filthy, since Voldemort’s dad was a muggle, but –“

“Morfin lived in a pigpen?” I offered.

“Exactly,” Harry rolled his eyes.

“Fucking purebloods,” Neville sneered.

“You _are_ one!” Harry and I protested in unison.

“Yes, and thus I am allowed to comment on how terrible we are,” Neville rolled his eyes.

“Anyway,” Harry sighed, “Apparently Voldemort’s mum stole Slytherin’s locket when she left. Voldemort stunned – or something – Morfin to steal Marvolo Gaunt’s ring. He then killed his dad and his grandparents. The muggles had no idea how they died, since Avada Kedavra doesn’t leave any signs or anything, but the Ministry knew what it was and convicted Morfin of it, since he was a known muggle hater and all. Apparently Morfin confessed to the murders, too? Voldemort probably implanted memories in his brain or something. He was sent to Azkaban for Voldemort’s murders and died there, so that’s swell,” Harry finished.

“Fan freaking tastic,” I groaned.

“Stole his wand to do it and everything. Voldemort’s smart, I’ll give him that,” Harry rolled his eyes.

“How’d Dumbledore get the memory then, anyway, if Morfin’s memory was modified?” Neville asked curiously.

“He used a lot of Legilimency,” Harry sighed, “And I mean, of course the Ministry didn’t, since he confessed and all.”

“of course not, that would be reasonable, to check up on a confession,” I rolled my eyes.

“Remember kids: the law is about solving a crime as fast as possible. Not about mundane things like ‘justice’ and ‘due process’,” Neville snorted.

“How old was good ol’ Voldy-Pants when he did this triple murder and framed his creepy uncle?” I asked.

“Sixteen,” Harry admitted.

“WHAT?!” Neville and I shouted in unison.

“Yeah,” Harry nodded, “And they couldn’t even tell that he had done magic outside of school, because he was around another wizard.”

“Of course,” Neville groaned.

“Bloody terrible piece of magic, the trace,” I hissed.

“My question is, how the _fuck_ did he do a killing curse when he was sixteen?” Neville asked in amazement.

“He was a powerful wizard?” Harry offered.

“I know I’ve felt like I had the power to kill someone,” I muttered darkly.

If I ever saw Umbridge again…

“That’s fair,” Neville also had a dark look in his eyes.

“Holy crap, I’ve never been more scared of two people in my life,” Harry commented.

“Sorry,” I sighed.

“Anyway, then we looked at another memory,” Harry paused, “He was still in school… and he was talking to Slughorn, with a bunch of other teenagers. It was the Slugclub but, you know, back in the day.”

“Ah yes,” Neville laughed.

“Slughorn’s hive of scum and villainy,” I rolled my eyes, “Of _course_ Voldemort was in it.”

“For Slughorn’s credit, he’s ashamed of that,” Harry offered.

“Fair enough, how so?” I asked.

“Gimme a minute to get there – basically Voldemort was flattering Slughorn a lot, and the rest of the club was fawning all over him, probably proto-Death Eaters – and then the memory got really weird,” Harry continued.

“Weird how?” Neville asked.

“You couldn’t see anything – it was all fog – just me and Dumbledore,” Harry paused, “Then there was this strange, loud voice – Slughorn’s but it was like, different than his voice when he had been talking, telling Voldemort that he’d go wrong –“

“Did he change the memory?” I asked sharply.

“Yup,” Harry nodded.

“Of course,” I groaned.

“Rather than admit to doing wrong, he just tries to cover it up. That makes perfect sense,” Neville sighed.

“And then the fog cleared up, and everyone left except Voldemort, who obviously wanted to talk to Slughorn – and then he asked about Horcruxes… and then the memory got foggy again, and Slughorn said something about how he didn’t know anything about them and wouldn’t tell Voldemort if he did or something like that,” Harry sighed.

“So…” I frowned.

“I need to try and get the real memory from Slughorn,” Harry lamented.

“ _That_ should go well,” Neville sighed.

“Just flatter the fuck out of him,” I asked.

“That’s the plan,” Harry groaned, holding his head in his hands, “I just can’t handle this right now – I don’t know how I’m going to do this with everything else going on in my fucked-up brain –“

“I’d offer to help, but Slughorn is afraid of me,” I grinned.

“And he thinks I’m a joke,” Neville rolled his eyes.

“I know. Honestly the best person to help me would be… well…” Harry had the most pained expression on his face.

“Yeah,” I nodded.

“Don’t worry about it, mate,” Neville shook his head, “Well, good to know Voldemort was a murderous little prick from the getgo.”

“I love all of this dehumanizing we’re getting,” I snorted.

“Really makes it easier to kill him,” Neville nodded.

“I wonder if Voldemort had hobbies _other_ than sniveling to superiors and murder,” I commented thoughtfully.

“That seems unlikely,” Neville laughed derisively, “Based on what Dumbledore’s telling us –“

“Okay, okay, I get the point,” Harry rolled his eyes, “I’m not going to fight with Dumbledore about how he’s dehumanizing Voldemort, alright?”

“Alright,” I grinned.

“Want to study?” Neville offered.

Harry nodded, and joined us in actually studying; though, admittedly, he was cramming potions into his brain, while we were actually paying attention to _all_ of our subjects.

The next day, I was beginning to feel a little more like myself. I was still down in a valley that I did not particularly enjoy, but I could see light at the end of the tunnel at least.

“Hey!”

I looked up at Ginny, who was _much_ too cheerful for the morning.

“Hello?” I asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

“Charity drive for the trans clinics on Friday. Will be whole day in Hogsmeade. I need volunteers to cover shifts for the classes I can’t afford to skip,” Ginny stated simply, her short hair in a messy, I’m-clearly-busy ponytail that would make Hermione envious.

“I’m assuming I’m being made into a volunteer?” I asked.

“Yes,” Ginny nodded.

“You know, that makes me a not-volunteer, since I didn’t… volunteer,” I laughed.

“Won’t you help though? We really need people to watch the booths and it’s in Hogsmeade, it could get dicey, and –“

“Yeah yeah,” I reassured, “Why are you waiting till Friday?”

“We want to get maximum publicity for the event. Also, part of it will be a bake sale, and we all need to bake, since we certainly aren’t going to make the bleeding house elves do it,” Ginny shuddered, “So there’s going to be a lot of work going on downstairs.”

“Oh dear,” I groaned, “I can’t help with that –“

“Which is why you’re volunteering for the sale part,” Ginny rolled her eyes.

“Alright,” I lamented, “I guess I can’t get out of it. But my god you owe me one.”

“Definitely,” Ginny grinned, “And just think, all the small kids who need their gender hormones will get them, because of the smile on your beautiful face.”

“You mean the grimace on my war torn façade,” I snorted.

“Those are synonymous statements,” Ginny giggled, “Anyway I better get to class – was just coming to rope you into that –“

“Lovely,” I rolled my eyes, but she was already walking away, “GLAD I MEAN SO MUCH TO YOU!”

But she definitely had an important point in that I didn’t have much to do during the day anymore. My research was well underway, I didn’t have many classes, and I was keeping up with my schoolwork. For the first time since… before I had started the Animagus process, so second year, I actually didn’t feel overwhelmed with everything I had to do, in addition to the looming threat of annihilation from outside forces. And I wasn’t allowed to help with rebellion activities, so I _really_ had a dearth of things to do.

I went to my room, grabbed my bow, and went out to shoot. I needed to get back into practice with it.

I needed to move on, from what I had done.

I went outside and found a good target tree and began shooting. It was colder now, nippier – I pulled up my sweatshirt tighter around my neck and face, and continued to shoot all the arrows in my quiver at the tree. After some good practice, I finally was hitting the bulls-eye again. It wouldn’t be long before I could accurately hit moving targets like I used to.

I kept practicing for most of my free part of the morning, and chose to continue rather than go to Transfiguration. After all, I knew everything in that class anyway.

I started shooting into the trees, looking for small mammals to hunt. I found it much harder to hunt birds after I had made Blue, but mammals were more common in the Forbidden Forest anyway. Or at least, easier to see.

I followed the rustling in the underbrush carefully, watching as small creatures ran through them and carefully shooting my arrow at them. As the morning waned, I finally began to hit them.

It was a good, relaxing day.

But then the rustling in the bushes was bigger than a small mammal.

I immediately shot without thinking, assuming it was a Death Eater. My heart leapt in my throat and I braced myself, ready to run back to the castle to try and warn people of their arrival – though I was so close to the forest that I didn’t stand much of a chance –

“Ouch!”

I lowered my bow in surprise – no Death Eater would have just said ouch, they would have attacked me back. From the bushes emerged two men and a woman, all dressed in fairly tattered and shabby clothing – hobo gloves, ripped scarves, dozens of layers. They had layers of dirt on their faces and I was taken back – back to living on the run with my friends, of seeing _them_ like this, and thinking nothing of it, since I looked like it too –

“Who are you?” I asked in surprise, my brain barely able to string two coherent thoughts together.

“We’re refugees,” the woman coughed, her body shaking with the force of it.

“You’re – what now?” I furthered.

“Refugees,” one of the men explained. Now that I could make it out, one of the men was very dark, the other very pale, and the woman in between – though it was hard to tell with all the dirt.

“From – from what?” I asked in confusion.

“The revolution,” the woman coughed again.

“Okay now I’m even more confused,” I admitted, walking forward to them and helping the arrow out of the paler man’s shoulder. The woman waved her wand and his wound healed up quickly, though it was hard to tell with all the layers.

“We’re rebellion members,” the darker man clarified, “Prominent ones.”

“We were at the burning of the Ministry –“ the woman continued.

“That’s why Bindu has that cough,” the pale man sighed, “Inhaled a whole bunch of smoke, Ministry did nothing to help of course, got worse in Azkaban –“

“But between our activities with the Rebellion and the way things are going, we think it would be best if we left, and as soon as possible,” the dark man interrupted.

“You see, we’ve been outspoken against the Ministry for years. We’ve written for the Quibbler, and the kind of article that makes people right angry, rather than amused,” Bindu rolled her eyes.

“They’ve been watching us. And we’re all muggleborns, so we don’t have a lot of legal protection,” the dark man sneered.

“Things are changing – since you kids – you’re Maggie, right?” the pale man clarified.

“Yeah,” I frowned.

“Sorry – I don’t mean to be intrusive – you just have a recognizable visage,” the man explained.

“Your picture was everywhere when you were on the run,” Bindu nodded.

“Like a wanted picture?” I grinned. I wanted to see it.

“At any rate, since you kids were forced out of school and tortured, something’s different – everything’s changed,” the dark man continued, “The people are rebelling, and no one is okay with this anymore – no one is just going to sit by, anymore.”

“Either they’re with the Ministry, or the Death Eaters, or with you,” Bindu explained.

“Everything’s tense, and it’s not going to take much to break… and while we think that history is on our side, well, as Jack so eloquently explains…” the pale man sighed.

“We’re the first people the Ministry will ‘make an example of,’ since they can’t touch you kids anymore,” Jack, the dark man, finished, “We are unknowns – nobodies – but those who do know us know enough. They will take us, and either throw us in Azkaban with no bargaining power – “

“Or because we’re unknowns, they’ll get rid of us in another way,” Bindu sighed.

“We’re not going to be the only ones fleeing,” Jack said calmly, “We’re here to ask Dumbledore to help.”

“We didn’t want to apparate. The Ministry is watching all magic – no magical transportation is safe, so we had to walk,” the pale man explained.

“Seth got the idea from you and your friends, actually. They are _terrible_ at tracking non-magical movement – no way they would find us,” Bindu grinned.

They all looked younger, the longer I looked at them – around Bill’s age. It was striking, and painful.

A bunch of twenty-something-year-olds on the run.

“We’ll help from the outside, of course,” Jack reassured, “Spread the word of what’s going on in whatever country we end up in –“

“But we can’t stay here. I like being alive,” Seth – the pale man – frowned heavily. 

“Shouldn’t other people flee? Like Pacifique?” I asked in fear.

“Probably, but he won’t,” Bindu frowned.

“He’s not a journalist. He’s a soldier. There’s a bit of a difference in temperament and ability to deal with hardship, there,” Jack snorted.

“Alright, well, let me get Dumbledore,” I offered. I didn’t know if they were really refugees – or actually Death Eaters in disguise, or something else similar. They all waited, not even looking confused as to why I didn’t invite them into the castle, as I ran up to it and went to grab him.

I sprinted up the stairs to his office, not even wondering if anyone was confused as to what I was doing, with my arrows on my back and running as though there was a fire in the woods. I banged on Dumbledore’s door, hoping that he would hear –

“Miss Johnson? Shouldn’t you be in class?”

It must have already been Charms.

“There are – refugees – outside,” I panted.

“Refugees?” Dumbledore asked sharply.

“Political ones. Seem to think they’re in danger and need to get out of the country,” I explained in my exhaustion, “Seemed to think you would help.”

“Bring me to them,” Dumbledore nodded. We went back through the castle, out to the grounds. The three of them were still there – I put my hand near my wand, just in case – you could never be too careful –

“Dumbledore!” Bindu shouted, looking thankful.

“Ah, Bindu – Jack – Seth – I had a suspicion it would be you,” Dumbledore greeted, now walking quicker. The fact that he recognized them made me less apprehensive, so I followed Dumbledore quickly.

“We gave Maggie quiet a fright – sorry about that, but we wanted to travel on foot to avoid the Ministry,” Seth explained.

“Good job,” Dumbledore nodded, “You all have made the right decision – I can set you up in Canada, I have contacts there.”

“I don’t think we’ll be the only ones, Albus,” Jack frowned.

“No, I don’t think you will,” Dumbledore agreed, before leading them all back up to the castle. I watched in amazement, but something about the exchange made me not follow – this was bigger than I could truly comprehend.

Whatever we had started, it wasn’t some small child’s rebellion.

It was much more than that.

I kind of knew that before – after all, people had gotten arrested – but something about seeing people flee the country solidified it in my mind.

I packed up the arrows I had left around the woods and walked back up to the castle, hurrying to charms, even though I didn’t have my schoolbooks or my bag. At the very least, I had to reassure Neville that I was okay. I sprinted into the classroom and sat next to him, him looking at me in fear and confusion.

“I’ll tell you about it later, can I have some stuff to take notes?” I hissed quietly. He nodded, and I could see his hand was shaking a little, but I really couldn’t talk when Flitwick was visibly annoyed that I was so late. I took as many notes as I could, but it was a lost cause. I was too distracted.

Neville dragged me out of class and pulled me into the corridor the minute Flitwick was done talking; Hermione followed quickly, and Harry awkwardly walked away, looking at us longingly as he did so. I frowned at him apologetically, but Hermione had gotten there first.

“So? What happened?” Neville demanded, his face paler than usual, somehow.

“I was practicing archery in the woods – I’m so out of practice, I need to get my aim back –“ I began.

“Did Death Eaters attack you?” Hermione asked sharply.

“Not this time – no a bunch of refugees came out of the woods,” I hissed.

“Wait _what_?” Neville gasped.

“Yeah – journalists – wrote critical stuff of the Ministry for the Quibbler – like, _good_ stuff – and now they are heavily involved in the rebellion. But they’re relatively unknown, so if the Ministry decides they want to make an example of someone, they’ll be the first ones they pick, so they traveled on foot since the Ministry is keeping track of magical transportations to get to Dumbledore so he can get them out of the country,” I explained very quickly.

“Bloody hell,” Neville whispered.

“Are you sure they were who they said they were?” Hermione asked desperately.

“Dumbledore recognized them – if they’re Death Eaters with Polyjuice potion, well, that was on him then,” I muttered.

“Where are they now?” Hermione furthered.

“Dumbledore took them into his office, probably to get the fuck out of here,” I explained.

“Should we check? Make sure they aren’t Death Eaters in disguise?” Neville asked worriedly.

“Yeah, let’s go,” I nodded. We all sprinted off to Dumbledore’s office together, my heart in my throat as Neville reached out and gripped my hand so tightly I felt he would entirely cut off circulation to it. We reached the office and I banged on the door, much as I had in the morning; footsteps quickly approached it and Dumbledore opened the door, looking at is curiously.

“Yes?” he asked in surprise.

“We were worried that the refugees were Death Eaters in disguise,” I explained, panting a little while Neville and Hermione panted a lot behind me.

“Do not worry, Miss Johnson, I asked them specific questions only they would know as we walked up to the castle,” Dumbledore smiled slightly, “I have been doing this a lot longer than you, you know.”

“Yeah – sorry – er – “ I stammered.

“Just wanted to make sure, Professor,” Hermione clarified.

“Well thank you for that. Now I suggest all of you go and do something much more fun than worrying about refugees,” Dumbledore stated calmly, “They are all on their way to Canada, now.”

“Okay,” I nodded, and we left quietly, looking at each other nervously.

“How many more people are going to flee?” Hermione hissed, wringing her wrists as she did so, “I mean, we _need_ people to have a movement –“

“I don’t think everyone will at first, but if things get really bad with the war –“ Neville stammered.

“They really seemed to think the Ministry would kill them,” I explained quietly, “Because they’re relatively unknown – I mean they wrote for the Quibbler and everything – but they were directly involved in burning the Ministry. One of them even had a cough from all the smoke they inhaled – but – they won’t be the last, I don’t think, no.”

“And yeah, if the war intensifies, people will leave in droves. A rebellion is one thing, but if the Death Eaters mean business, this will turn into a full scale civil war,” Hermione hissed.

“Will we leave?” Neville asked quietly.

“Even if we did, at this point, they’d follow us,” I muttered sadly.

“There _is_ nowhere to go,” Hermione agreed fiercely, “No, we have to stay. Frankly, we should help the refugees.”

“Probably,” Neville sighed, “Do you think they’ll _all_ come to Dumbledore?”

“I have no idea,” I frowned, “If the Ministry is tracking magical transportation –“

“It’s hard to get here without any magic at all, but, I guess we showed that it was possible,” Hermione commented thoughtfully.

“And if anyone can get people out of here, it’s Dumbledore,” Neville stated firmly, “No, we’re going to get a lot of them, that’s for sure.”

“The question is – what will set off the next round,” Hermione sighed.

“Maybe all the data people will collect for the Quibbler – I mean – the Rebellion _is_ planning a mass publication,” Neville frowned.

“The Backlash’s extensiveness will definitely scare people, but hopefully they’ll be scared into fighting back,” Hermione lamented.

“We can’t count on that – maybe we should just tell them to call off the article?” I hissed.

“No, Katie’s already out in London doing research, and Claire and Elena have gone off to Dublin. We really can’t stop them now, when they’ve risked so much to go to places and see what’s happening,” Hermione frowned.

“Fantastic,” I muttered in annoyance.

“They agreed to meet tomorrow night though – talk about what they found out – if you want to come to that? They decided this after you both left on Friday, and well, we agreed not to burden you if you didn’t want to –“ Hermione began.

“Yeah, I want to come,” I nodded.

“What else happened after we left?” Neville asked softly.

“Just everyone getting furious. People talked about burning down the Ministry ourselves, that sort of thing,” Hermione shrugged, “No one wants to see you hurt like that, Maggie, you know that.”

“I do,” I murmured.

“There was so much anger, it really was just – well, it was probably good you guys got out of there. It would have been much too much for you to handle. But I don’t think we are ever going to be quelled,” Hermione commented thoughtfully, “I don’t think there’s anything the Ministry can do to stop this, now.”

“Good,” Neville responded bluntly.

“If the refugees show anything, it’s that this is only going to get harder. So yeah, good. We need to be in this completely,” Hermione sighed, “I’ll see you both tomorrow.”

She walked away and I turned to hold Neville tightly around the middle, burying my face in his chest and just resting there. I knew he needed to feel my touch after a long day of being worried about me.

The next day, I practiced archery again; I continued to get better, back to where I had used to be, and I actually only spent the time shooting when I didn’t have class, so Neville wouldn’t have to worry. In fact, it was another better day – the more time that passed since what happened, the less disconnected I was from everything, though I was still so tired I could barely comprehend my surroundings. So, after classes and dinner, I went to the Room of Requirement to wait for the DA meeting, and napped on Neville’s shoulder as we did so.

The door opened and I shifted awake at the sound, looking nervously as Pete walked in, looking absolutely exhausted himself. He sat across from us and held his face in his hands, groaning slightly.

“What happened?” I asked tiredly.

“Went to Edinburgh. It went _so well_ , gents,” Pete rolled his eyes as he looked up from his hands.

“What’s happening there? I thought they were mostly on our side in that city,” Neville moaned.

“Oh they are. That’s why the Backlash is there. Apparently they’re sending people from city to city. There are a lot of non-natives holed up in muggle hotels and things, going to the wizarding places and attacking people with scars on their foreheads. I witnessed a whole group of people getting beaten down – not even with magic, just with fists. It was a lot of fun to witness,” Pete explained tiredly, “And the muggles didn’t miss it, either – they were talking about all the violence lately and how it was as though some sort of gang war had broken out on the street.”

“ _Great_ ,” I groaned.

“I wrote down as much as I could, but it’s definitely bad – I want to hear what everyone else found out,” Pete nodded firmly.

“Well hopefully they’ll be here soon,” Neville reassured.

“Yeah,” Pete sighed, “I’m worried about Kat.”

“She seemed tired, I ran into her earlier this week,” I agreed.

“She’s really afraid of everything that’s happening. It’s stressing her out a lot,” Pete frowned, “I think she wants to run away, but I don’t know how to –“

“Talk to her,” Neville stated firmly.

“But –“

“Talk. To. Her.,” he repeated, almost angrily.

“I don’t want to freak her out, or make her uncomfortable, or go beyond any boundaries,” Pete insisted.

“Trust me, Pete,” I sighed, “You gotta talk to her, or else she probably _will_ run away, and that won’t work out for anyone.”

“I sense this comes from experience?” Pete responded thoughtfully.

“Yes,” Neville and I responded in unison.

“Okay,” Pete sighed, “I just am afraid of –“

The door opened, then, and we never got to find out what Pete was afraid of. Claire and Elena walked in, looking very tired, and sitting on the floor. Elena wrapped her arm around Claire’s shoulder, and Claire rested her head against Elena’s chest, which was not a sight I necessarily needed to see. Yes, my sister was as well endowed as I had been at her age, but for the love of god, she was only thirteen.

The fact that I had been when I started to think about others sexually was _not the point_.

“So what happened?” Pete asked worriedly, turning to them immediately and seeming relieved.

“Oh Pete, it was a nightmare,” Claire groaned, looking up from Elena’s chest.

“Same,” Pete agreed.

“I mean, Dublin was already very anti- the rebellion, so honestly people saw us on the streets and started jeering at us,” Elena mumbled, looking terrified as though it had happened seconds ago.

“We didn’t have to do much reporting – the answer was right in our damn faces,” Claire grumbled.

“We basically saw that, went to her dad’s house, had a nice dinner, and then came back. The coming back we got attacked again, but we were quick about it,” Elena mumbled.

“Dad was good though. Worried for our safety, really happy to meet Elena, that sort of thing,” Claire flushed a little, looking happy but embarrassed.

“Brilliant,” Pete laughed.

“Sucked Valerie couldn’t come, it would have been a nice family dinner, but she has a lot of work to do for her classes – she’s taking way too many – plus she apparently is trying to write an essay on the Ministry’s treatment of Rwandan refugees or something?” Claire frowned.

“It’s alright, I really like Valerie, we’ve hung out plenty – I’m just glad your parents like me,” Elena murmured.

“Me too,” Claire nodded, “I wasn’t _really_ worried – I kind of came out to them last summer while we were all at school, because life is short and everything, but still….”

“I wonder what my parents would have said,” Elena mumbled sadly, tears appearing in her eyes. Claire tenderly wiped them away, something not necessarily sexual, but so intimate that I felt uncomfortable anyway.

“They would have loved you, and been proud of you for knowing yourself better, and loved Claire,” I murmured softly, “I promise.”

“I know,” Elena nodded.

“Definitely – Mr. Johnson was especially wonderful about this stuff,” Neville agreed, “He never called me a boy again after I came out.”

“That sounds like Dad,” Elena smiled weakly.

“And you have plenty of people looking out for you and being proud of you for coming out still here, with you,” Claire murmured softly and, once again, much too intimately for my comfort.

“Exactly – as Elena’s legal guardian, I must say that I expect you to treat her right, young lady,” I stated teasingly, trying to alleviate myself of my awkwardness.

“My god, you are, aren’t you,” Elena groaned.

“Ever since I turned seventeen!” I stated brightly.

“Dammit, I’m doomed,” Elena continued.

“Oi!” I shouted in protest. At that moment Hermione, Ernie, Ginny, and Luna entered, all sitting around us and smiling weakly.

“Did you guys go to cities?” Neville asked curiously.

“I didn’t –“ Hermione began.

“I didn’t either,” Ernie shrugged.

“I had to work on the charity drive,” Ginny explained.

“She was making me help her,” Luna laughed.

“It’s your charity!” Ginny rolled her eyes.

“Well that explains your cheerful demeanors,” Pete grumbled.

“It was bad,” Claire agreed. The door opened again, and Harry walked in – deliberately not looking at Hermione – with Nadia and Sam.

“We went to Glasgow. It’s a mess,” Nadia stated simply.

“Someone tried to rip off Nadia’s hijab again,” Sam agreed grimly.

“So I punched them in the face,” Harry muttered.

“And then I threw one for good measure,” Nadia agreed.

“Bloody hell,” Claire swore.

“Got lots of data about how they want all foreigners out of the bloody country, though,” Sam sneered, sitting next to Ernie, so close to him that I had to work really hard to fight my giggle at Ernie’s rapidly coloring face.

“Well that’s fun. This’ll be a long article,” Ginny sighed.

“I’m going to have to really persuade my dad to let it be so long,” Luna mumbled, “He wants to do a feature on the Kapotk and –“

“Your dad can run it another month,” I reassured.

“I’ll be sure to remind him,” Luna nodded fiercely.

The door opened once _again_ , and Dean and Kat came in. Kat didn’t say anything, but sat at the edge of the circle, staring at her hands and looking exhausted. Dean sat in the middle of the circle, running a hand through his afro and sighing.

“Liverpool is in chaos,” he muttered.

“You’ve _got_ to be kidding me!” I groaned.

“Nope – Backlash people everywhere, but they’re in a minority, so Liverpool’s been attacking them – so many people from the Rebellion live there, and they’re just, not letting the Backlash take over their city. It’s inspiring, but this is not going to end well for them –“ Dean continued.

“Fuck no it’s not, shouldn’t we be trying to calm this down?” Pete groaned, “Maybe there’s a peaceful way to –“

“Look, I wish there was, but if the refugees –“ Hermione began, before covering her mouth in shock.

“Refugees?” Elena demanded.

“Were we going to tell them?” I hissed angrily.

“Oh fucking –“ Ginny groaned.

“Just _tell us_ what the bloody hell is happening!” Dean roared.

“You can’t keep keeping stuff secret, it doesn’t work out, I _told_ you –“ Ernie agreed.

“Fine, we’ll tell you, I think we should anyway,” I muttered.

“Just would have been more gentle about it, come on Hermione,” Neville hissed.

“I’m sorry! I was thinking too fast again,” Hermione admitted.

The door opened and we all looked, waiting for the last people to join us. Katie walked in, looking so mad I was afraid for a few minutes; Seamus followed behind her almost timidly, sitting down next to Dean and hiding behind him.

“What… was London like?” Harry asked quietly.

“London was quiet. Nothing happening. Probably the Ministry covering all this shite up,” Katie responded bluntly.

“Okay…” Elena whispered.

“I wasn’t actually there to get potions ingredients, let’s just leave it at that,” Katie muttered angrily.

“Katie, you should tell us,” Sam offered.

“It would probably help,” Nadia agreed softly.

“Fine!” Katie shouted furiously, “Fine! I was there to – the Ministry does a lot of things on its own steam. It’s not completely in compliance with muggle laws, as we all know.”

“Obviously,” Pete rolled his eyes and muttered.

“I was hoping – with all the trans stuff they used to do – that they wouldn’t see gender as a huge fucking deal like the damn muggles do,” Katie continued.

“Oh no,” Kat mumbled softly.

“I went to see if they’d help me and Alicia get married even though in the muggle world that’s not allowed,” she hissed, “So that if she gets hurt in the war –“

It was then that Katie’s fury wavered. Her lip started trembling and she looked like she was going to burst into sobs; but she stopped herself, took a deep breath, and continued.

“Well they wouldn’t. They refused. Assholes. Assholes!” Katie roared, “Bloody dicks, the lot of them –“

“It’s not that much of a surprise,” Ernie murmured.

“I don’t care! If they’re so concerned with appearing like they actually give a shit about their civilians, they would practically bend over backward to appear fair – but nope – they have their heads so far up their anuses that their hair is getting boiled away in stomach acid. Oh that’s _it!_ ” Katie screamed, standing up, and clenching her fists.

“What are you doing?” Harry asked in shock, his eyes widening.

“I’m done. I’m not – I’m done. I am scared, every day, every _second_ , that Alicia has died out there, and no one’s told me, because her parents are homophobic and we’re not married and even if they weren’t homophobic they don’t talk to _my_ parents who would tell me because they’re decent human beings and I just – nope. It’s not happening anymore. You don’t have to help me if you don’t want to, but I’m going to go and demand that they let me marry her!” Katie screamed.

“What are you saying?” Nadia breathed.

“I don’t know if this is a part of our rebellion – but – but – I’m going to start campaigning for them to legalize gay marriage. Yeah, marriage is a stupid institution, but it’s all we have now, and I’m picking my damn battles. I pick this one. I’m not going to be the last to know that the love of my life is _dead!_ ” Katie finished, before getting up and slamming the door behind her.

We all stared at each other – though Hermione and Harry weren’t, that didn’t count – for a long time in stunned silence.

“So what sort of shit will hit the fan next?” Claire muttered after a while.

“We are _never_ going to clean all of this up,” Ginny sighed, and I found myself mentally agreeing with her.

It would be impossible. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for being gone for a while! I've been really swamped with schoolwork and stuff for my blog, plus some personal stuff (I gotta move soon, so, that's a thing I've been dealing with). PLEASE please please PLEASE comment! I really have had a dearth lately and I really need them to be inspired! More comments really and truly DOES mean faster updates, I swear!   
> Thank you all!


	109. Chapter One Hundred and Eight: November 14 - 15, 1996, Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "A has-been, a once was, the leftovers, an eyesore, bleeding, oxidising,   
> A few remaining, unloved, emotionally damaged, a waste of space,   
> A nuisance, I haven’t had time to become, unwanted!   
> What’s gone? I’m losing it   
> This is not what I stand for   
> This is not what I stand for   
> This is not what I stand for 
> 
> It was a perfectly good grand piano. 
> 
> Stop in the name of love! I’ve got just what you’re looking for!   
> I’ve got tree-lined interiors, where we can dine with the biosphere. 
> 
> If you’ll take care of me, I’ll take care of you.   
> If you be good to me, then I’ll be good to you. 
> 
> Oh… I’m a story in mourning, and you’re the author   
> So pour out your masterpiece. 
> 
> Entropy increasing, how long before I’m dust?"   
> ~ Imogen Heap, "Neglected Space"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for sexual content between the swirly lines

Chapter 108: November 14 – 15, 1996, Hogwarts

I decided to stay away from the actual writing of the article; the others seemed to have it covered, and besides, I still wasn’t fully recovered from what I had had to go through. Breakfast was almost a blur around me as Neville opened up the Quibbler to read, so I rested my head on his arm and closed my eyes.

His arm softly nudged me so I looked up groggily, and he nodded his head towards the paper. I followed his nod, reading on the page in my exhaustion.

 ** _A COUNTRY OF THE SICK  
_** **How I was left to recover on my own, and I am not alone**  
by Angelina Johnson

**During my Sixth Year at Hogwarts, I was chosen to compete in the Triwizard Tournament. This is an event well known for many, given what it lead to – the return of Voldemort to strength, as well as the ensuing corruption of the Ministry and destruction of the reputations of Harry Potter and Albus Dumbledore. However, my story is only related to these things inasmuch as they would not have happened without them.**

**During the third task, Voldemort’s henchman – a man named Barty Crouch Jr., disguised as Alastor Moody – put me under the Imperius Curse. While under the curse, I attacked many of my friends, put one of my close friends under the Cruciatus Curse, and killed the girlfriend of one of the other contestants. I had had no control over any of it, and when I woke up from the curse, I was horrified with what I had done.**

**The Ministry, not wanting to acknowledge exactly how much of a disaster the Tournament had been, or the return of Voldemort, offered me no support in this manner. The guilt I felt over what I had done, even though none of it had been under my control, made my mental health deteriorate in the following months. I grew very depressed, to the point of near catatonia at times – meaning I could neither move, nor react to my environment. Upon returning to school, I lost touch with many of my friends and all of my personal relationships deteriorated. I harmed myself on a regular basis, and no one had any avenue of how to help me.**

**I only came out of it when I began talking to someone else who had had a similar experience as myself. He helped me a little, but real change began when I started to see a therapist.**

**This is not normal. This is not okay. The situation I was in was not my fault, and it was not my responsibility to receive help solely on my own.**

**The way our world handles mental health is atrocious. There are only two therapists in the entirety of Wizarding Britain, and only one of those is native to this country in the first place. Muggle professions are highly discouraged for wixen, after all, even those that have no magical analogue – such as therapy.**

**Wixen, apparently, do not need healers for their minds.**

**Oh sure, there’s stuff for magical ailments that addle the brain, but nothing for common things that happen to muggles, too. And it’s not as though we are immune – it’s so complex and based oftentimes on environmental circumstance, that much like the common cold, wizards have not come up with some sort of magical fix for it.**

**Only therapy works, and often times no one ever gets it.**

**Multiple generations of wixen have lived through wars now in the UK, and yet, no one is around to help. Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder is a common response to such traumatic things as war and loved ones dying; it is not a weakness but rather a natural reaction. However, many people – perhaps dozens – probably suffer from the condition without treatment or aid. After all, a large group of children, after only one year of such trauma, require intensive therapy for PTSD now.**

**The wixen world is often backwards, but here decidedly people are in a culture of hate and misunderstanding. Many people treat mental ailments like they were treated before the eighteen hundreds – as characteristics of the other, as disturbing, and as something to be ignored or even put down. Indeed, famously, Dolores Umbridge called Maggie Johnson – a long term sufferer of PTSD, which often makes one lash out and behave erratically – an ‘animal’ as an excuse to ‘put her down,’ ie, execute her.**

**This may seem extreme, but it is the exact sort of treatment that comes about due to a fundamental misunderstanding of mental illness. Sensitivity training and a call for more trained, wixen therapists is needed – people who can understand what we are going through as a result of our world, and help us with it; as well as employers and fellow employees in our jobs who understand, rather than ridicule, our conditions.**

**I am slowly recovering, but imagine the good that could have been done if I had been treated immediately, rather than a year after my condition developed.**

I looked up at Neville in amazement and he wordlessly handed the paper to Hermione, who read it rapidly.

“So is it just a thing now for people to have their own side campaigns?” Neville asked curiously, “I mean, Katie – Angelina – other people who shall not be named –“

“Probably a good thing that the movement not seem homogenous,” Hermione replied, “Give the Ministry less of an obvious target, same with the Backlash.”

“Well, they’ll have an obvious target when that article comes out,” I muttered.

“It has to be done, the public needs to know exactly what’s going on with the Backlash,” Hermione shrugged, “There really isn’t another way to go about it.”

“Apparently Angelina is speaking tonight about what she wrote about,” Neville murmured, reading further in the paper when Hermione had given it back to him, “Word of mouth is good.”

“Shae should speak with her, talk about how ridiculous it is that wixen don’t have therapists,” I suggested.

“She should,” Hermione agreed, “Does she know Angelina’s doing this?”

“I’ll ask her today, my session is this afternoon,” Neville offered.

“Kind of want to see this,” I murmured, “I wish I could go.”

“Put a hoodie up?” Neville asked.

“Take Polyjuice potion?” Hermione offered.

“Hoodie might not be enough and Polyjuice is too drastic. It’s fine, one of you should go and fill me in,” I shrugged.

“I’ll go,” Hermione stated immediately, “Lord knows Neville would be too worried about you to do it.”

“That’s… fair,” Neville admitted sadly.

“I’ll tell you both everything, I promise,” Hermione nodded.

“Thanks,” I smiled weakly.

I spent the rest of the day in much of a daze, not really comprehending what was going on around me. I could only think of how Umbridge had called me an animal. It was mostly because of how rebellious I was, and my anger issues, but for some reason I was having trouble ignoring the fact that part of it was due to my mental health.

“You’re not an animal, Maggie,” Neville murmured during herbology as we worked together on the weird plant for the week, “At least, not any more so than any other _Homo sapiens_. I guess what I mean is that you’re not feral or anything stupid like that.”

“Thanks,” I muttered softly, leaning into his side.

“Are you spiraling?” he asked equally quietly, trying to not draw the attention of Sprout, who was giving us the side-eye during our public displays of affection (not surprising after last week’s events).

“No,” I murmured, “I’m just… I’m feeling hopeless about the war.”

Neville nodded silently, squeezed me again, and we went back to work on our plant.

It was hard to think of anything but the fact that Angelina would be speaking that evening in London; I tried to relax in the Room of Requirement with Neville, but I was simply unable to.

“Abstaining from the rebellion was a mistake,” I muttered softly.

“You had to do it though. Already Pacifique and the others have been doing good things. They’ve spread word about the charity drive this Friday for anyone who needs help with gender related medical treatment,” Neville murmured soothingly, kissing me on the back of the head.

“I’m restless and I have no idea what’s happening out there,” I murmured, resting my head on his chest. The raptors were… somewhere. Out exploring again. I let them, because I didn’t have much of a choice.

**~~**~~~*~~~*~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~***~~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

“I know, but we’ll find out soon enough. Hermione didn’t go alone and she’ll bring back a full report,” Neville nodded against my hair, kissing my ear softly. A shiver went up my spine and I turned in my seat to press my lips softly to his, wrapping my arms tightly around his waist. He moaned quietly and kissed me back more passionately, now holding me completely in his arms and as close to him as he could muster. I mumbled happily against his lips and all of my worries from the day were blissfully wiped from my mind; everything was him, his touch his kiss and his smell and his sounds. He gripped my side and my back and he pressed my chest against his and it was the hardest we had kissed since the Ministry had attacked me.

It was good.

He moaned quietly and I held tightly to his shoulders, comforted by his existence and closeness to me, gripping him tightly and pulling him down on top of me. We were now snogging horizontally on the couch, and while this position was usually guaranteed to make me a little nervous, the fact that I had pulled him made all the difference. He was comforting rather than scary, an envelope of love and protection rather than a monstrous body trapping me and torturing me. I ran my fingers desperately through his long hair, pulling on it somewhat and pressing him closer to me. His lips moved more urgently as he started shifting slowly on top of me, sending swooping sensations through my stomach that made my heart leap into my throat.

“Neville,” I moaned softly, unable to stop myself. He groaned at that and ran his hands underneath my shirt, even though Hermione could return at any time. I didn’t really care much; I enjoyed feeling his hands on my skin, lightly caressing my sides and my stomach as his lips left my mouth and trailed down my neck to my shoulders.

“Are you doing okay?” he asked quietly against my skin, looking up and at me with the softest eyes imaginable. I nodded, reaching out and stroking the outline of his chin and jawline with my fingertips, making him shiver almost violently beneath my touch. His lips returned eagerly to my skin, his hands now going up more into my shirt and gripping my breasts lightly. I moaned needfully and started unbuttoning my shirt, knowing that, given what happened, it was my job to initiate such things.

He pulled back and watched me lovingly as I watched him, slowly undoing the buttons of my uniform blouse and shrugging it off of my shoulders. He started tracing kisses all over my upper chest and shoulders, his hair tickling my skin as he did so. I groaned needfully and reached for his buttons, eagerly fumbling with them to get his shirt off as quickly as possible. He helped as much as he could, but was very distracted by kissing my chest and neck. Eventually his shirt was shrugged off of his shoulders and he resumed kissing my lips, hungrily moving them against mine and now holding my body as close to his as he could. We were pressed up tightly against one another, our bodies moving slowly and gradually against each other as I reached my hands into his pants. He moaned happily against my lips as I squeezed and massaged his butt, now reaching for the front of his pants to pull them slowly down off of his hips. His hips bucked lightly into my own, him clearly holding back as he caressed my face and just stared lovingly into my eyes. I smiled back at him and pulled his hands down to my skirt, helping him in pulling it off of my body.

“Where are we going with this?” he asked quietly, kissing all over my cheeks and chin lovingly.

“What we usually do, I think,” I murmured softly.

“Just making sure,” he reassured, kissing me more passionately and reaching to pull off my underpants. I eagerly wiggled my hips as I reached for his underwear, pulling it down as well and running my hand up and down along his length. He moaned loudly into my mouth and eagerly started rubbing me, gently but quickly running his fingers back and forth along my clit. I moaned with him and pulled back to stare lovingly into his eyes, pressing my nose and forehead into his as I pumped my hands up and down along him. He gently slid fingers inside of me, making me cry out louder and arch my body into his, my stomach and breasts pressing into his stomach and chest. He groaned softly and kissed my neck again, before looking at me while panting with the effort of our caresses.

“Still doing okay?” he asked nervously, reaching weakly with one hand to caress my hair behind my ear, making me shiver and moan as his other hand worked hard on my vagina.

“Yeah,” I whimpered, squirming happy underneath his touches and tugging eagerly on his penis. He nodded and kissed me again, holding my face desperately in his hand, rubbing me quickly and desperately and needfully as his lips eagerly pressed into mine. I kissed him lovingly and slipped my tongue in between his lips, making him moan happily again and lightly run his own tongue along mine. We gently rubbed our tongues together, moaning softly into each other’s mouths and rubbing each other as quickly and as tantalizingly as we could. His fingers moved rapidly against my body, sending overwhelming waves of pleasure throughout me and overwhelming me. I couldn’t think, I could only feel, and the only thing I could feel was him.

I was not afraid.

I moaned louder and ran my hand through his hair, holding tightly to his hair and rubbing him as fast as I could. He groaned in response, obviously surprised by my extreme increase in excitement, as I ran my hands up and down his back as eagerly and desperately as I could.

I wanted more.

I wanted _so much_ more.

The thought was not terrifying, it was thrilling; just the thought of him holding me as close to him as possible and being inside of me as fully as possible made me so excited and eager that suddenly I was climbing up the mountain; it didn’t take Neville many more drumming of his fingers to send me over the edge, crying out loudly into his mouth as I exploded around him and gripped his shoulders as much as possible. But it wasn’t enough. I needed more of him, I needed to feel all of him, his body pressed to mine and moving in unison with mine and basically combining with mine –

I kept moaning long after I stopped exploding. Neville pulled back and looked at me in amusement as I panted and stared at him lustfully, now blushing as he examined me.

“That good?” he laughed, kissing me softly on the forehead. I hadn’t even got him there.

“Sorry,” I breathed weakly, smiling at him. It had been good, but my mind was still wishing for more.

He was safety, he was everything, and I wanted to experience him as fully as I could.

“Don’t be,” he smiled a little more, “But I’m still – er –“

“Right,” I laughed, kissing him as I resumed pumping my hands up and down his penis, heavily rubbing it and touching every inch of it as delicately and pleasurably as I could. He groaned heavily and held tightly to me, wrapping his arms completely around my body and shivering in my arms. I rubbed and tugged, but my mind was still in my fantasy, making me work harder if only to match my desires and needs for him. He screamed into my shoulder as I rapidly got him over the edge, exploding all over my stomach and torso, collapsing on top of me and staring at me lovingly.

“Wow,” he breathed, “What’s gotten into you?”

I swallowed, staring at him. I was starting to climb back down, and fear and memories were entering and gripping my heart again – too tight – it almost hurt –

“I’m… I’m almost ready, I think,” I murmured, “Not quite yet, but close.”

“Oh,” he breathed, staring at me in surprise, “I… I figured after what happened you’d have been… less ready, if you will…”

“Yeah I know,” I breathed, “But – I dunno – I –“

I swallowed. How was I supposed to explain this?

Neville kissed me lightly on the forehead and waved his wand, cleaning up the semen from my body. He then got a blanket from the Room, pulling it over us and curling his body around mine. I looked at him as he held me tightly in his arms, kissing me lightly on the nose and smiling lovingly at me.

“It’s okay love, you’re safe,” he murmured softly, stroking my hair and tucking it behind my ear.

“Oh I know,” I responded, “That’s the point, I think.”

“Oh?” he asked.

“You’ve spent my whole life making me feel safe,” I smiled weakly, kissing him on the nose, “Which I thank you for by the way, given that my life since around we met has been terror filled.”

“Yeah,” he sighed.

“No time did you do that more than when you found me in London,” I continued, swallowing as I stroked his chin and jawline. He shivered under my touch and kissed the tip of my nose, wiggling a little with happiness against me.

“But when you took care of me after what happened, _directly_ after what happened,” I looked at him, “I just – it broke down a lot of those lingering – lingering fears. And I’m not – I’m still nervous but – absolutely none of that is – I have absolutely no fears that you will hurt me or that anything will happen in that regard. I never really did logically, but my illogical – my PTSD – it’s –“

“I understand, love, I’m not upset,” he whispered, kissing me on the nose.

“It’s just not there, my PTSD just doesn’t – not you anymore,” I continued, stammering nervously.

“I get it, really,” he nodded, kissing me softly and running his hands up and down my waist and chest. I shivered under his touch and I arched into it, gripping his shoulder.

“And I just – I want it – I want to – to feel you –“ I whispered, staring at him needfully. My heart was in my throat, but I couldn’t help it – he was close, very close, and I could feel every inch of his skin, and I remembered what it was like to have sex – it was a ghost, but I remembered it, from that time – it was good enough on it’s own – with Neville –

He swallowed, looking at me nervously. I felt my heart lodge in my throat.

“I just… I don’t think I’m ready yet, Mags,” Neville mumbled, looking upset with himself, “I just –“

“Of course not!” I immediately reassured, feeling horror clutch my heart, “Nev, you only just realized what happened to you. You’re still dealing with it, and I completely understand. I’ve had _years_ to move past what happened to me –“

“Not what just happened –“ Neville blubbered, having immediately started to cry.

“That’s – I mean yeah but the way everyone took care of me – Nev –“ I whispered. It was so hard to explain.

“I’ve never felt safer than in your arms,” I furthered.

“I know –“ Neville mumbled, now crying into my shoulder. I held to him tighter, gently stroking his back as he mumbled and cried, kissing him softly on the top of his head and just letting him rest and sob into my skin. He shook madly on top of me and I lovingly stroked his back, murmuring softly into his ear.

“I love you, I love you, it’s okay, it’s okay…”

After a while, he looked up at me, sniffling slightly and still looking horrified and apologetic.

“Nev,” I murmured firmly, “It’s okay. We all deal with things differently. Part of how you took care of me was extreme intimacy, remember?”

He nodded wordlessly.

“Meanwhile, part of you dealing with the toad was… a full year of bottling it up and not acknowledging it. That’s going to make you feel isolated and alone, even if you’re not – and scared of opening up more, because when you opened yourself up to that pain it was sharp… I think,” I whispered.

He nodded more, kissing me roughly on the lips. I squeaked with surprise and wriggled against him, still turned on from before; he kissed me so hard I practically felt as though he was bruising them. I reached roughly for his back and clawed at it, feeling his skin strain against mine as I groaned and whimpered into his mouth. I couldn’t stop my hands from running all over him, reaching across every inch of his back and his butt. He whimpered and held tightly to me, his penis pressed up against me and straining again. He pulled back from me, panting and shaking a little, tears coming to his eyes again.

“I’m just – I’m just not –“

“I know, love, I didn’t think you were,” I reached up and kissed his eyes, “I’m not really fully either, I just think – I’m close now.”

“Okay,” he nodded, sniffling. I kissed the tears away from his cheeks and we laid down together under the blanket, holding me tightly with his arms. We laid like that together for a while, our naked bodies pressed up against each other, our eyes locked and not leaving.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you,” I responded, kissing him on the tip of his nose. He giggled and kissed the tip of mine, laughing happily as my face burst into a wide grin. He squeezed his arms tighter around me, rolling a little on the couch, pressing my body up tight against his.

**~~**~~~*~~~*~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~*~*~*~***~~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

“Oh bloody _hell_.”

We looked up under the blanket to see Hermione opening the door, closing it behind her and rolling her eyes heavily. I squeaked with surprise and Neville wrapped the blanket tighter around us, blushing furiously.

“I’d say I’m surprised, but I’m not. I’ll look away while you both get dressed,” Hermione snorted, looking at the wall. We both quickly returned to being dressed, Neville even giggling a little.

“You both need to control yourselves but I know you won’t. At any rate, are you ready to hear about what happened?” she rolled her eyes as she turned around. I nodded, amused that she had turned around when I was still just in my bra and underwear. She rolled her eyes at me.

“I was giving Neville a chance to put on underwear. We shared a dormitory for four years, Maggie, I don’t give two shits about you,” Hermione snorted.

“Thanks for that,” I laughed.

“So what happened?” Neville asked, chortling as he shrugged back into his shirt.

“Well Angelina’s speech was actually pretty much just a transcript of her article,” Hermione admitted, “She seemed too tired to say much more.”

“Did anything interesting happen at the rally, then?” Neville asked.

“Yeah, you look kind of… disheveled,” I admitted.

“The actual rally was a _nightmare_ ,” Hermione sighed, “I mean the others were _not joshing us_. Everything was a bloody mess – people were fighting in the street, there was general anger and unrest, and most of the violence was Backlash folk against the Rebellion – they’d see someone with a lightening bolt scar and just savagely attack them. I couldn’t – I was so angry it was hard to watch.”

“I can only imagine,” I groaned.

“But the most interesting thing really had nothing to do with the politics,” Hermione grinned.

“Do tell,” Neville rolled his eyes.

“Well Shae was there. She gave a speech on the importance of mental health, which was good. Actually she talked about your journey, Maggie,” Hermione continued.

“Of course,” I groaned.

“You’ve become a real rallying point since the Ministry silenced you actually,” Hermione shrugged, “People are outraged that your freedom got limited like this –“

“I exchanged it for theirs!” I shouted.

“Yeah, I know,” Hermione rolled her eyes, “But that’s not the point. And then some of the Backlash people called you a savage –“

“My favorite racial slur,” I snorted. Neville rubbed my back comfortingly.

“And Shae got _pissed_. Like _really_ pissed. Like, she basically threatened to kill them all if they didn’t leave immediately,” Hermione grinned, “It was _awesome_. She was basically a tropical storm just _destroying_ them.”

“Nice,” Neville grinned.

“That’s not all – Tonks was there too, acting as a body guard, right? Well she was just overwhelmed with how much Shae defended you and the war and the revolution and – oh man I want to do this speech justice,” Hermione was laughing.

“Oh bloody hell,” I rolled my eyes.

“Get on with it, woman!” Neville snorted.

“Tonks basically explained that she didn’t think that Shae could really be a part of the war because she was from America and not invested in it,” Hermione explained, “Tonks apologized for being so closed minded – and Shae said it was okay – given the climate she understood, and all that –“

“And then what?” I raised my eyebrows.

“And then – _on the podium, no less_ – Shae was just basically like, ‘Well I’ve found many reasons to fight as though I am one of you,’ and I mean I’m no sexual, but I could tell what sort of look Shae was giving Tonks, and –“

“Oh boy,” Neville laughed.

“Tonks basically tackled her and they started snogging, and Angelina just had the _best_ facial expression she was so shocked, and a lot of people cheered, and it was brilliant,” Hermione laughed.

“Why do we always miss the good things,” I sighed.

“I am sorry – it was brilliant, you should have seen it,” Hermione agreed. I rolled my eyes and flicked her in the arm.

“So have you guys gotten any homework done while I was gone?” she continued, smirking slightly. Neville and I groaned in unison, and she essentially forced us to keep working the rest of the evening.

Still, that was alright – the scratching of the quills kept me at peace, and I enjoyed nestling in Neville’s arms and resting my legs on Hermione’s lap. Eventually she fell asleep, exhausted from the day’s events, resting her head on my knees and snoring softly. We were a literal rainbow – pinkish pale, reddish dark, and orangeish tan, queer and queer and queer all around, at peace with each other and with our lives for once. Neville gently stroked my hair as we read our textbooks on muggle science together, but I couldn’t help but feel like we were incomplete without Harry there.

There was no convincing Hermione though – she was still clearly furious with Harry, and Harry was too ashamed to approach her.

“I’m beginning to think we’re never going to get our family back together,” Neville muttered, his anger echoing my thoughts as we sat together in Transfiguration class.

“Hermione can’t go on like this forever,” I muttered stubbornly.

“You know how tenacious she is,” Neville rolled his eyes, “The only person who’s more stubborn in the world is you –“

“Oi!” I shouted in protest.

“I am not wrong!” Neville hissed angrily.

I stuck my tongue out at him in annoyance, but I didn’t actually have an argument. He returned to studying his transfiguration and I stared around the room, my eyes landing on Malfoy.

His eyes were red and puffy.

 _Bloody hell_ , I thought in annoyance. What the _fuck_ was wrong with him?

 _I’ll show you stubborn_.

I kept my eyes more or less trained on Malfoy for the rest of the class, since I didn’t need to pay any attention. When it was dismissed, I kissed Neville goodbye – after all, he had work in the Greenhouses – and slowly followed Malfoy out of the room and down the corridors. I followed carefully, making sure to not draw attention to myself, hiding behind corners and walls and listening intently. His footsteps kept moving, so I kept following the sound, determined to try and get an answer out of him.

The footsteps stopped; we were near the dungeon, but in a side passageway. I listened curiously as I heard a thunk-ing sound, and sobs – lots of sobs. It honestly sounded a bit gross, he was snorting up snot and heaving and blubbering as though his mother had just died. The sobs were absolutely hysterical, louder than anything I had ever heard – and the voice making the sobs was _definitely_ Malfoy’s.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” I demanded angrily, turning the corner and looking at him. He immediately leapt to his feet, staring at me furiously, pulling out his wand and pointing it at me.

“Go away!” he shouted back, “You raving lunatic –“

“If anyone is a raving lunatic here, it’s you!” I snorted, “You’ve been sobbing on the floor! What’s up with that?”

“Leave me alone, you have no business asking me this,” Malfoy sneered, some of his usual anger and vitriol returning, “Like I’d ever tell _you_ , you animal –“

“Oh please, you’re terrible at throwing racial slurs, your heart’s not in it,” I rolled my eyes, “I’ve dealt with _Umbridge_. Whenever you fucking did it it was like a child playing at grown-ups, you didn’t know what you were saying or what it meant or what power it had. Now I’ve met actual adults who call me these things and I know the power they hold, the true meaning – it’s like if a teenager tired to use an Unforgiveable Curse, you have no idea what the fuck you’re doing.”

“Go away!” Malfoy roared.

“You know you can get out of whatever situation you’re in just by, I dunno, talking to someone about it? Bloody hell you’re going nutters,” I snorted.

“Fuck off!” he roared, shoving past me and bumping into my shoulder. He stomped through the corridor away from me, and I sighed.

So much for not being stubborn.

I followed him angrily, stomping through the corridors myself, as the whole building started to shake.

_Not again!_

I whirled on my feet, transformed instantaneously, and dove towards one of the lower level windows. I smashed through the glass – it barely harmed my scales – and managed to wriggle outside. I was by the lake, so I quickly ran along it, going out towards the front of the castle.

The Grounds were filled with trolls – a troll army, all swinging clubs and approaching the castle, with a large group of Death Eaters in toe. I hissed angrily and stalked them as the Order started attacking them, DA members joining them out on the grass as spells cracked and filled the air. I continued to slink through the grass as stealthily as I could, my heart in my throat, hoping I could reach one of the trolls before they noticed me. Their hides were nearly impervious to spells, so I was our only chance against the large group of the creatures.

One turned and definitely could spot me in the grass – or at least he recognized that something was moving towards him. He roared and lifted his club in the air and I immediately followed into the air, shooting above his head and diving back down on top of it. He shouted – grunted, really – in surprise as I landed on top of his head and spun it around, snapping his neck. The troll fell to the ground in a broken, dead huff as I flew off in the air, staring out over the Castle and looking to see what further horrors would follow the Trolls.

Mostly, it was just more Death Eaters – there were no giants, no other types of beasts. I growled and dove through the crowd, puffing air through my lungs so that I could blow back fire onto the crowd of Death Eaters. My elementalism was good enough at this point that I could mostly use fire, and so it hurt my lungs considerably less as a large wildfire escaped my lungs and took over the field.

The Death Eaters shouted in surprise and fear, scattering away from the large explosion of flames. Curses started trailing after me in the air and I flew away as fast as I could, diving through the air and spinning about on my spine. My wings curled with me as I did so, allowing me to fly faster as I dived at another troll, knocking it to the ground and clawing at its back. It roared in surprise as I dug my talons into its leathery skin, pulling them back out and letting immense amounts of strangely colored blood (I couldn’t _describe_ this color if I wanted to) spill from its body. I leapt up again and dove through the scores of fighting children and Death Eaters, dive bombing more Death Eaters in fury.

The Death Eaters started sending more curses my way and I narrowly dodged them, one hitting my thigh and sending burning pain through my person. I roared angrily and dove at the Death Eater, him screaming in terror at the sight of a dragon heading straight for his head. I knocked him to the ground violently before spinning about to go up into the air quickly, going as fast as I could through the sky before hovering there, looking at the proceedings.

There weren’t a lot of trolls or Death Eaters – were their numbers dwindling? Was Voldemort killing off his Death Eaters one by one on some fruitless crusade? The students were fighting valiantly, perhaps remembering the end of the last battle – shield charms were the most numerous spell I could see, though I was very high up.

A large crowd was out fighting back by the lake, so I took my chance and dove towards them, the wind whipping through my horns and across my wings, me falling quickly through the air to reach the group. The Death Eaters were not ones I recognized, fighting against the students violently and almost crudely. They were using the most basic of curses and the most deadly, and no one even attempted to use Elementalism. I quickly transformed and swept my arms over the grass, a wave of fire going over it and spreading amongst the Death Eaters. They all shouted in surprise, but given the moisture in the dirt beneath it the fire quickly dulled in intensity, which the Death Eaters recognized. One of them tried to take water up from the lake but failed, grunting with the effort at his failed Elementalism.

With none of our elements available to use, we immediately turned to spells.

Dean and Seamus were there too, as was Sam and Hermione. We all fought together, our spells filling the air as I pulled out my wand and dance don my feet, dodging curses and sending my own back at the Death Eaters. It wasn’t how I usually fought anymore, but I still remembered my basics from Harry, his nagging voice filling my brain as though he were teaching the DA again.

The Death Eaters were clearly more scared now, with another student fighting them and all five clearly knowing what they were about. They began to retreat and resort to more desperate curses, angry and violent ones filling the air and heading towards us. Hermione, almost desperately, cast silencing charms on them, forcing them to perform the spells nonverbally. Many just ran at that point, but the few who seemed able to perform nonverbal spells were angrier than ever, only the most terrifying curses filling the air and coming towards us.

“Why is it,” I grunted angrily as we fought them, my spells filling the air as much as I could cast them, “The most terrible at magic join Voldemort?”

“No idea,” Dean muttered angrily.

“I mean there are plenty who are _good_ at magic, but hasn’t it occurred to you that most of the newer recruits are people who are actually quite bad at it?” I shouted, making eye contact at one of the particularly terrible fighters, who fought more aggressively – but still, terribly – in response.

“Well the reasoning is twofold,” Hermione shouted in response, her hair everywhere and frizzier than ever, “First – Voldemort obviously think these people are dispensable –“

One shot a killing curse that was way off the mark; Hermione easily dodged it, even rolling her eyes.

“Second – who are the people who always feel the most threatened when a marginalized group fights for power?” Hermione shouted.

“No idea, Mione, bloody hell,” Seamus shouted.

“It’s always those that are second tier – almost equally disenfranchised, with the most fragile power in the society – they fear those small numbers of groups below them rising above them because then they lose their only power. The most vehement racists in America? Usually the poorest whites. Of course, poor education contributes, but –“

More angry spells came for us to deflect and dodge, so Hermione was distracted from her explanation.

“So these people,” she shouted over the fray, dancing around and easily missing all the spells, her small body proving a major asset, “Are afraid of losing the little power they have – they might be bad at magic, but at least they’re _pure blood_. At least they’re _white_. So it doesn’t matter that they’re bad at magic – they were at least born correctly, and they have to keep it that way –“

The particularly angry Death Eater sent more killing curses at Hermione. She dodged around them, but then he started sending purple curses. She grunted angrily and stunned him, just looking annoyed with the whole proceedings.

Hermione stopped talking then, the five of us fighting the Death Eaters vehemently and furiously, trying to push back their assault. They were still silent, which was helpful – Sam was hit with a stunner, but only remained out for about a minute before coming to and fighting again. Increasingly the Death Eaters retreated away across the field, but still some stubborn ones kept trying to push forward, almost desperately – now their dangerous spells were just needful and haphazard, going every which way and dangerously so at that. I saw across the field one Death Eater fall due to another’s stunner; the other ran, looking horrified, as the stunned Death Eater was left to the Order members that had finally arrived.

One purple spell careened through the air – it went quickly, if weakly – towards Dean. Dean shouted in shock and horror, but Seamus would have none of it, leaping in front of Dean to take the purple spell in the shoulder. Sam started shouting in horror as Dean screamed, me running towards Seamus immediately as Hermione sent large numbers of boulders towards the remaining Death Eaters, sending them away at last.

“No! No!” Dean shouted in terror, tears streaming down his face as he reached to grip Seamus’ arm.

“It’s alright, he still has a pulse,” Hermione reassured, reaching for Seamus’ wrist, “The spell was nonverbal – he’ll be alright in a few days –“

 “What was that spell?” Dean demanded in terror, tears now blubbering up all over his eyes, “What was it? What would have happened to him?”

“We don’t know for sure but we think it damages internal organs,” Hermione muttered, “Come on – someone – get him to the Hospital Wing –“

The Death Eaters were leaving now, and many were lying in the field – the trolls were retreating with the Death Eaters. Still, there were lots of students on the ground too, and my heart leapt in my throat with worry. I hadn’t seen Neville the whole battle.

“He’s going to be okay?” Dean begged, shaking from head to foot as Sam levitated Seamus and started leading him back towards the castle.

“Yes, don’t worry, I promise,” Hermione whispered. Many students were crying all over, and I ran through the field away from Dean and Hermione, looking around wildly for Neville.

On the other side of the Grounds I saw him with Harry – Harry was shaking violently, his arms wrapped around his head. I sprinted towards them, running to Neville and leaping into his arms. He held me tightly to him, soothing me and gently rubbing my back.

“Did anyone die?” I whispered, my voice coming out hoarsely.

“I don’t think so,” he reassured, kissing me passionately with his arms still locked tightly around me, “No, I think there’d be more of an uproar – last time people were _screaming_ because they’d died – “

“What’s wrong, Harry?” I asked immediately, turning to him and reaching out for him, still staying in Neville’s arms.

“He thinks he’s responsible,” Neville whispered, “He thinks this is all his fault –“

“It is! It is all my fault!” Harry blubbered, rocking back and forth in his seat on the rock, shaking and holding his face in his hands, “Voldemort wouldn’t be attacking if it weren’t for me – how many people have been injured, trauamatized –“

“Voldemort is looking for something in the Castle, he’s not looking for you – he’d be attacking no matter what,” Neville reassured softly.

“It’s all my fault, it’s all my fault, it’s all my fault –“ Harry repeated over and over again.

“Oh my god,” I whispered.

“I don’t think he can take much more of this,” Neville agreed quietly.

“Dr. Wilson isn’t working is she?” I hissed angrily.

“I have no idea, it hasn’t been much time…” Neville murmured thoughtfully.

“Still, he just seems to be getting worse and worse – Harry – Harry take a deep breath,” I begged. He only kept sobbing instead.

“They’re going to close Hogwarts,” Neville muttered. I looked up sharply at him, my heart lodging in my throat.

“After all of this? They have to,” Neville shook his head sadly, “They can’t keep letting students be here when their lives are in danger – no – I don’t know which attack number will lead to the end, but eventually they’re going to shut downt eh school – why not now, when plenty of people have been greatly wounded but none die –“

“Because no one died,” I muttered.

“They’ll argue it’s preventative. Never mind we’re in just as much, if not more, danger in our own homes,” Neville muttered darkly.

Harry was still shaking back and forth with guilt and muttering and sobs. I reached and sat with him, holding him tightly against me, stroking his back soothingly. Neville joined me, holding Harry from the other side and staring at me over his shoulder in fear.

“Look, we need to find Shae, and she’ll talk to you, okay?” I whispered, “But you need to see someone now.”

Harry just continued to sob. I sighed and let him sob, simply rubbing his back and trying to keep him as calm as possible. It wasn’t working at all.

“We need to get him to the Hospital Wing, he’s breaking down –“ Neville muttered.

“Okay, let’s get him up,” I nodded, helping Harry and forcing him to his feet with Neville. We wrapped his arms around both of our shoulders, moving slowly towards the front of the castle.

“LISTEN UP!”

We turned in shock to Hermione, standing on top of some boulders, looking out around the Grounds and the exhausted, war-torn kids.

“I GET IT. YOU’RE AFRAID,” Hermione continued. I could see Sam had returned, and he had many cuts on his face that I hadn’t noticed before, oozing blood down his pale face. Ernie had walked over to him, covered in dirt and blood himself, his eyes dark as he stared up at Hermione with determination.

“YOU’RE AFRAID – AND YOUR PARENTS ARE GOING TO BE AFRAID – AND THE MINISTRY IS GOING TO BE AFRAID AND WHO KNOWS WHO ELSE,” Hermione furthered.

Muttering went up around the Grounds. I could see Elena was sitting with a fallen Claire, who was conscious but unable to get up – simply sitting up weakly, her hand gripped by Elena’s.

“BUT YOU’RE NOT SAFE ANYWHERE, OKYA?” Hermione continued, and I could see the glistening of tears in her eyes, “THE DEATH EATERS ARE EVEYRWHERE, AND THEY’RE ATTACKING EVERYWHERE – AND THE BACKLASH IS EVERYWHERE, ATTACKING REBELLION MEMBERS IN THE STREET – OUR WORLD HAS DEVOLVED INTO CHAOS –“

The students were muttering and shouting in surprise. The article hadn’t come out yet, and Hermione had forgotten that the Backlash were not yet common knowledge.

“Shite,” Neville groaned.

Hermione continued, though, as though she had done nothing wrong.

“YOU ARE NOT SAFER OUT THERE! THE DEATH EATERS SIMPLY WILL TAKE THE CASTLE, GET WHAT THEY WANT – AND AN UPPER HAND OVER ALL OF US – AND MOVE ON TO ATTACKING HOMES AND CITIES INSTEAD. THEY’LL ATTACK ALL OF US – NONE OF US WILL BE SAFE – AND THERE IS NO SAFER PLACE THAN HOGWARTS,” Hermione shouted.

People around her muttered in disbelief, though many were still stunned from before.

“THE CASTLE IS WELL FORTIFIED. HERE WE HAVE THE STRENGTH OF NUMBERS – THERE ARE SO MANY OF US FIGHTING THAT THEY CAN’T GET PAST ANY ONE OF US. WE HAVE MEMBERS OF THE ORDER AND AURORS WHO WILL COME STRAIGHTAWAY. HERE WE HAVE _DRAGONS_ ,” Hermione breathed deeply, clearly shaking from head to foot as she shouted at everyone, “NO WE’RE NOT COMPLETELY SAFE – BUT WE AREN’T SAFE ANYWHERE – AND HERE WE HAVE HELP.”

People were muttering, but many looked more convinced.

“WE WOULDN’T HAVE THIS WAR IF THE MINISTRY HADN’T FUCKED UP – THEY IGNORED VOLDEMORT AND NOW THEY BARELY HELP US. WE MUST DEFEND OUR CASTLE ON OUR OWN BECAUSE THEY REFUSE TO SEND THEIR AURORS OR OTHER OFFICIALS – WE MUST FIX THEIR BLUDNER BY IGNORING VOLDEMORT – BY HAVING THEIR HEADS IN THEIR OWN ASSES – AND THEY WOULD HAVE US _LEAVE OUR SCHOOL_?” Hermione screamed.

People screamed with her, angry and furious at being reminded of the Ministry’s blunders with Voldemort.

“THEY MISLEAD YOU, THEY SILENECED ME, THEY ARE TRYING TO SILENCE ALL OF US NOW – AND WE WILL NOT LET IT STAND!” Hermione continued.

Everyone screamed in approval with her, fury burning through the crowd as though I had started a magical wildfire – except it wasn’t me, it was Hermione.

“THEY’RE GOING TO TRY TO CLOSE OUR SCHOOL – ONE OF THE LAST SAFE PLACES,” Hermione screamed, “WE CAN’T LET THEM. WE CAN’T LET THEM CLOSE THE SCHOOL. WE WILL NOT CLOSE THE SCHOOL. DO YOU AGREE?”

A chorus of yeses went up around the grounds.

“I CAN’T BLOODY WELL HEAR YOU!” Hermione roared.

“ _YES!_ ” almost all the students out on the field agreed.

“DO NOT LET THEM TELL US WE CANNOT DEFEND OURSELVES! DO NOT LET THEM DENY US A PLACE IN OUR OWN WORLD!” Hermione furthered, “DO NOT LET THEM RELEGATE US TO THE ROLES OF CHILDREN AND NOBODIES – WE MUST TAKE CHARGE OF OUR OWN FUTURES – ITS TIME WE STOP LETTING THEM CONTROL US AND HOW WE MUST ACT –“

Mutterings swelled in angry agreement.

“WE WILL STAY OPEN – WE WILL STAY HERE – WE WILL NOT CLOSE!” Hermione finished.

“WE WILL NOT CLOSE!” everyone responded, and they began chanting, angrily rising up in a unified voice. Harry had been mesmerized throughout this process, but now was crying again – presumably because he figured everyone chanting would die, and due to him.

Hermione raised her fist in the air, and her appearance was practically iconic. Covered in scars, clothing torn and bloodied, her hair a mess around her face as her new scars dripped hot thick blood over her eyes – she was a revolutionary symbol. Sam already had a pad out, and I watched in amazement as he quickly sketched in his small sketchbook, staring at Hermione not with lust or romantic attraction but with pure admiration. Hermione kept her fist in the air and everyone chanted with her, rising up and screaming at the top of their lungs.

I looked over at Neville over Harry’s head, and he looked back at me.

His face of terror reflected my own emotions.

“WE WILL NOT CLOSE! WE WILL NOT CLOSE! WE WILL NOT CLOSE!” the crowd chanted. Hermione pumped her fist in the air, chanting with them, as the students got angrier and angrier – most left on the field were fourth years and up, furious and frustrated with the world they were stuck in and the war they had been given.

I did not blame them, but I also could not control my own terror at what would come next.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment guys. Most of my major commenters have left and honestly I need feedback in order to write. I put a lot of effort in this story; it really doesn't take much to leave a comment, even one saying 'nice chapter.' Thanks.


	110. Chapter One Hundred and Nine: November 16 - 23, 1996, Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I don’t want to be here anymore   
> I don’t want to be here anymore 
> 
> On hand and foot we answered every single call   
> And weathered every day like passing storms   
> But when they break, we will all be gone 
> 
> WE WILL ALL BE GONE 
> 
> Won’t back down   
> Won’t take no for answers anymore   
> These walls close, we pace back and forth 
> 
> I don’t want to be here anymore (be here anymore)   
> I know there’s nothing left worth staying for   
> Your paradise is something I’ve endured   
> See I don’t think I can fight this anymore (fight this anymore)   
> I’m listening with one foot out the door   
> But something has to die to be reborn   
> I don’t want to be here anymore." 
> 
> ~ Rise Against, "I Don't Want To Be Here Anymore."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for slurs, violence, hate speech, and extensive mentions and discussions of the Holocaust

Chapter 109: November 16 – 23, 1996, Hogwarts

The castle wasn’t much affected from the battle, so most of the damage to the school was psychological. No one had died, but enough people had been seriously hurt that everyone was scared and nervous. Hermione’s words, however, had made a major impact.

As I walked down to breakfast, I saw a large group of adult wixen – all in Ministry robes – arguing with some of the professors. I quickly crouched behind the wall of the banister, peering around to watch as they all argued with one another.

“The parents are scared, Albus, we cannot let the school remain open –“ one Ministry official hissed.

“I am sorry, Rufus, but the students simply will not go. If a parent wishes to take a student from school that is that parent’s prerogative, however, I cannot allow the school to close at this time –“ Dumbledore insisted.

“Why the bloody hell not?” hissed, of all people, Amelia Bones, “These are _children_ , Albus, and I understand that –“

“It has nothing to do with the children, Amelia. To be completely frank, Voldemort is trying to get something within the castle,” Dumbledore stated simply.

There was a long, heavy silence.

“Isn’t he trying to get Potter?” another, male voice said gruffly.

“No, I am afraid not,” Dumbledore sighed.

“It appears they’re after – a possession – of Voldemort’s,” McGonagall stated irritably, “Though I do not know what.”

“Nor do I, Minerva, though you do not believe me,” Dumbledore sighed.

“Where in the name of Merlin could there be an object that The Dark Lord hid that you wouldn’t know what or where it is to remove it yourself?” Rufus shouted.

“Keep your voice down!” Amelia Bones hissed.

“You know that I do not know all the secrets of Hogwarts, no one does. There are plenty of places where he could have hid the object in question, maybe even in plain site,” Dumbledore stated tiredly.

“Then scour the castle! Destroy it, and tell him you have!” the gruff male voice hissed.

“That’s precisely what I’ve been doing – my main task, at the moment, is determining what the object in question _is_. Further inquiry as to location will come later,” Dumbledore sighed.

“Then while you determine that we should evacuate the school!” Rufus insisted.

“Voldemort is attacking families across the country. Here, they have the safety of the castle itself and numbers. Furthermore, major population centers have erupted into violence… which you are all aware of,” Dumbledore muttered.

There was a _palpable_ awkward silence at that.

“We are doing what we have to do, Albus,” the gruff man stated.

“I disagree,” Amelia hissed.

“You were overruled by the Wizengamot –“

“And I can see that I will continue to be so. What am I, then? A puppet Minister? Someone you can hold up as a voice of reason to your _insanity_ –“

“Amelia, please, control yourself,” the gruff man hissed.

“No!” Amelia roared, “What you’re planning is –“

“What is happening?” McGonagall insisted.

“That’s classified Ministry business,” Rufus stated in almost a grunt.

“Besides, we’re not going to put it into place unless we have to. Relations right now are strained, but nothing… more has happened that would warrant it,” the gruff man

“You do not trust that it will remain this way, though, if you are already plotting out new steps to take,” McGonagall hissed.

“No, they don’t,” Amelia muttered.

“It is simply a precaution, a way to ease the burden on Aurors and Law Enforcement agents –“

“It’s profiling –“

“This is not the place to discuss this,” Dumbledore stated firmly, “The school is not going to close, and that is final. The students are still safer here than anywhere else.”

“Fine,” Amelia stated calmly, “The Governors trust your judgment. We will go now.”

Footsteps lead away; I remained crouched behind the banister, hoping that McGonagall and Dumbledore wouldn’t come up the steps. I heard more footsteps lead away, and I hesitantly got up from behind, looking around at the empty Entrance Hall. I breathed a sigh of relief and wandered down towards breakfast, shaking a little as I did so.

I sat down across from Neville, who was happy eating bacon and toast, and smiled lovingly at me. Hermione had her hair in a ponytail and was writing things down in an angry scribble.

“So what’s happening?” I asked softly, trying to act normal as many non-DA members were close by.

“Well we successfully organized the Trans Bake Sale for today – damn battle put it off but everyone was free to do it today,” Ginny shrugged.

“Saturday might be better for people being free anyway,” I pointed out.

“True!” Ginny agreed, “And let’s see – Seamus is recovering well –“

“So that’s where Dean is,” Ron frowned.

“Yeah, they’re in the Hospital Wing, but he should wake up today they hope,” Hermione sighed.

“And the article should go out in the Quibbler tomorrow,” Ginny shrugged.

“So where have you been, love?” Neville asked, beaming at me. Next to him, Harry ate in silence, his face pointedly looking away from Hermione and the rest of us. I frowned at him in worry.

“Well… I er… overheard something on the stairs,” I sighed.

“Oh?” Hermione asked sharply.

“Well the Ministry wants to close the school, but Dumbledore won’t let them,” I shrugged.

“There’s clearly more to it than that,” she rolled her eyes.

“They have… they’re developing something, I think, I dunno – something if the rebellion gets worse,” I muttered.

“You’re… I’d demand that you’re kidding but I’m honestly not surprised,” Ginny sighed heavily.

 “What sort of thing?” Neville asked worriedly.

“I honestly have no idea – something about – they mentioned the word profiling?” I frowned, “No idea what they mean…”

Hermione looked especially troubled, her entire face falling at the words.

“I’m – should we put out the article?” she asked very quietly.

“Yes,” Ginny stated calmly, “It might be dangerous, but we need to.”

“Okay,” Hermione whispered.

“Everyone’s with you, Hermione, it’s going to be okay,” Neville reassured softly.

“Well I’ve always been a target, don’t suppose I could make that any worse,” she shrugged, getting up and leaving the table. Harry swallowed and stared more pointedly at his food.

“We should definitely have Queer Club party next weekend, lighten the mood and the tension?” Ginny suggested.

“Sounds good – how about Friday?” Neville asked.

“Probably, we could do it instead of the meeting, unless you –“ Ginny began.

“No, we need some time to let off steam,” Neville shrugged, “I’ll send out a message to everyone telling them plans had changed.”

“Thanks Nev,” Ginny beamed, “I’m going to go get ready. I’ll see you all out in Hogsmeade?”

“At noon,” Neville nodded.

“Great!” and she was off, her ponytail swinging behind her. I rolled my eyes and rested my head against Neville’s arm.

“Are you worried?” he asked softly. I shook my head quietly.

“I mean, I’m always worried, but… I dunno,” I sighed, “Not about the fundraiser.”

 “Well we’ll see what happens. Let’s go get ready,” Neville urged.

The square of Hogsmeade was fairly lively – it was actually a Hogsmeade weekend for once, so we were allowed to be out there, and most students were. Outside of the Hog’s Head Ginny had set up many tables laden with baked goods; small magical fires were going underneath the tables to keep the baked goods warm. There was a small container with hot chocolate in it, and another with warmed butterbeer. And at the till was Ginny, who’s face instantly lit up at seeing me.

“Oh brilliant! You can do this part now,” Ginny beamed.

“I have no idea how money works,” I rolled my eyes, walking up to her and shivering a little in the cold. I had brought the Flock with me for a walk and this was clearly a mistake; all five were shivering now near one of the fires, but still far away enough to be safe. Neville immediately walked over to the baked goods and started trying to sell them to passerby; plenty of students came up and bought food, beaming and laughing with us.

Ernie was happily calling for people to come to the stand as I quickly worked out exchange rates for the money in my head.

“Ernie stop getting people to buy food!” I shouted irritably as I tried to do the maths to convert Knuts to Sickles in my head.

“But if we’re selling things then we’re golden, Mags!” Ernie grinned.

“I don’t bloody care, Wixen money makes no logical sense – sorry –“ I grunted at the customer waiting, quickly exchanging change for them.

“Step right up folks! If you buy just the right combination of baked goods you will be _guaranteed_ to annoy _the_ Maggie Johnson!” Sam laughed next to Ernie, who was grinning at him, “Yup! You can have a unique chance at making her explode _today_ if you buy – three muffins and a hot chocolate!”

“Maggie is used to doing maths on paper, not in her head, and thus this is a true nightmare for her – so why not take advantage of this unique opportunity!” Ernie agreed, grinning literally from ear to ear.

“I’m going to murder the both of you,” I grunted as some fifth years bought exactly that combination, all chortling maniacally.

“Want to support a good cause? Buy some baked goods! Annoying Maggie Johnson is an important task, but we all must do our part!” Neville started joining in, beaming at me. I flicked him in annoyance as more people bought biscuits.

“Every year, there are _countless_ days in which Maggie Johnson goes unannoyed. But we are all doing our part to make sure this problem no longer goes unnoticed!” Ernie shouted, “With each donation you are _ensuring_ that Maggie will be annoyed for days to come –“

“Oh for the love of Merlin –“

“Plus you will get to help out trans people,” Hermione rolled her eyes, walking up to the table.

“ _Thank you_ –“

“I wasn’t saying that for your benefit, I don’t want to mislead people buying baked goods,” Hermione snorted, standing in between me and Neville and reaching down to give Penny scritchles.

“Yes, we’re actually running this bake sale to help trans people get the resources they need following the Ministry reforms,” Ernie admitted, now looking serious, “If you would like to help people young and old maintain their mental health and their physical health, _please_ consider buying even just a biscuit for the cause.”

The day waned on – cold but not horrifically; the raptors got used to it over time and eventually were playing in the snow, even, fluffing up their feathers to trap air underneath them for warmth and thus becoming even more poofy than usual. Plenty of people bought baked goods and warmed drinks, and our money till was growing fuller by the second as droves of people came by. Most people buying good were students, but plenty of adults did too, and quite a few adults with lightening bolts on their heads didn’t buy any goods but just threw money in the till.

“How are you guys doing?” Luna greeted cheerfully later in the afternoon. She and Ron came down together, Ron looking disgruntled and keeping his hoodie up around his head. Luna was basically dragging him with her.

“Things are going really well! How’s the tally of how much we’ve earned going?” Ernie asked.

“I was supposed to be keeping a tally?” I grimaced.

“Oh my god,” Hermione groaned, holding her face in her hands.

“Mags you had _one job_ ,” Neville bemoaned.

“No one told me I had to do that! I just knew I had to take people’s money!” I shouted.

“And keep account of it!” Sam snorted.

“It’s fine, I’ll do it,” Ron stated gruffly, grabbing the till and starting to count out all the money.

“Thanks Ron,” I sighed.

“Is anyone coming down to help for the rest of the evening?” Hermione asked curiously.

“I think Maria was going to come down at some point?” Ernie suggested.

“It’s freezing out, I can’t feel my fingers,” I grunted.

“Then you should wear gloves with actual fingers, love,” Neville giggled.

“If someone attacks me I’d like to be able to shoot fire from my hands without burning my clothing thanks!” I grunted.

“Fingerless gloves really are better for elementalism, she has a point,” Hermione shrugged.

“We’re at a bake sale, not a battle,” Sam sniggered.

“You never know when things will happen,” I rolled my eyes.

“Alright then, come on, we’ll go warm you up somewhere,” Neville snorted, wrapping an arm around my shoulder.

“Oh for the love of Merlin, please don’t go off shagging for hours and not come back,” Hermione groaned.

“Oi!” I shouted.

“Go with them, Hermione, make sure they actually just warm up and don’t shirk their duties,” Ernie rolled his eyes.

“Oi!” Neville shouted.

“Come on you two,” Hermione rolled her eyes, dragging us away from the booth forcibly.

“We weren’t going to shag!” I shouted in protest.

“I mean, taking off clothes seems downright counterproductive!” Neville agreed.

“Bloody freaking hell,” Hermione groaned.

“We were just going to snog a bit, I think!” I continued.

“Snogging is scientifically proven to be good at warming people up,” Neville grinned.

“No – no snogging for you,” Hermione rolled her eyes, “You’re going to go into a pub and drink butterbeer and chat and then leave in a reasonable amount of –“

A loud, high-pitched scream filled the air from behind us. We all whirled on our heels and ran back to the booth as fast as we could, hoping it was nothing –

There was a large crowd of adult men, and one of them had apparently tossed over one of the booths. The raptors were all snarling at the tops of their lungs and the screamer had been Luna, now trapped under the booth.

“Fucking f-“ began one of the men.

I roared over the man before he could use a slur and transformed, diving at him and knocking him to the ground as a dragon. He screamed a pathetic scream in surprise.

“Get out!” Hermione screamed.

“We’re here to put a stop to this _f***otry_ once and for all –“

“Shut up!” Neville roared.

“You’re the King of them – “ the man shouted at Neville, “Don’t think I don’t know what you are, with your girl makeup and long hair – breaking all the laws of nature – you’re a man and you need to accept that, you queer f***** -“  

“Hey!” Ginny screamed.

I quickly turned on the new man, who was swinging a punch at Neville. Neville dodged out of the way as I tackled the man to the ground, whacking him in the head with my tail club. Another man swung at Neville and managed to hit him in the face, making me scream loudly in fury. Neville immediately got up and shoved the man into the street, knocking him violently to the ground. He had blood running from his nose but I was concentrating on keeping the other man pinned to the ground, hissing loudly. The man Neville knocked from the ground hissed more slurs at him, making the raptors hiss and run out behind Neville, snapping at the man angrily.

“GO AWAY!” Sam screamed at everyone.

“We have a right to be here just as much as you – and who’s going to stop us from –“

The raptors, who were agitated and territorial beyond belief at this point, were approaching the men with their teeth beared, feathers on all ends, claws snapping against the ground.

“Get your savage out of here, freaks –“ the first man I had knocked down yelled breathlessly.

“You’re the fucking coward, attacking a bunch of children,” Ginny hissed.

“Queers and freaks, the lot of you, don’t deserve to live – “ another one growled.

“FUCK OFF!” Hermione screamed, before transforming into a raven and pecking at him violently. The man shouted in surprise and tried to shoo her away, to no avail – Hermione was tenacious. She flapped madly while digging into his skull with her talons, and I watched with a sense of pride.

“What the fuck is wrong with you rats?” another man shouted, as many of them began backing away from the scene.

“What is wrong with _you_ , attacking some kids because you don’t think they have a right to an identity?” Ernie roared.

“You are how you were born, end of story – and some of you were born more worthless than others,” one man sneered at me, and I hissed angrily.

“They’re all worthless – bunch of f*** and queers and filth,” another man laughed, “Look at them all, trying to act like things there not – girl with a beard, man with breasts –“

“SHUT UP!” Ernie screamed, “JUST SHUT UP!”

“Not like you could fight me, you’re just a girl in man’s clothing!” the man responded.

I roared but Ginny was roaring too – she leapt over one of the tables and suddenly transformed into a large, feathery bipedal creature, knocking over the man and stepping on his face. She panted in pace, and as I looked I began to identify what she was – tall, with a long tail, feathers everywhere, wings, and huge claws on her feet –

I transformed back into a human and screamed, “You’re a fucking _Utahraptor?!_ ”

Ginny roared in the man’s face and he screamed, and the Flock were now even more agitated, running towards Ginny and snarling at the man behind her.

“GO AWAY!” Neville roared, “Or else – apparently a shitton of dinosaurs are going to come after you –“

I transformed for good measure. Now the flock, Ginny, Hermione and I were all in a line, hissing at the men as they finally packed up and ran away. The flock immediately chased after them, running as fast as their little legs could carry them, the men running and screaming at the site.

Ginny transformed back and collapsed against the ground, holding her face in her hands in shock.

“SINCE WHEN WERE YOU BECOMING AN ANIMAGUS?” Sam shouted in amazement.

“Since I found out Maggie could do it – started at the literal beginning of last year, I’ve always wanted to, and –“

“We were on the run for half a year!” Hermione shouted, transforming back into a human herself.

“Yeah I had to do catch up but it wasn’t hard, I’ve always been good at transfiguration you guys know this!” Ginny panted as I transformed back to a human and shouted after the Flock. Neville had already began running after them. Ron was busy helping Luna up from her position trapped under the table, Luna looking shaken and as white as a sheet.

“So is that your final form then?” I demanded in amazement.

“Probably – McGonagall said I was close –“ Ginny admitted.

“Three fucking dinosaur animagus I can’t get over this,” Sam groaned.

“You’re absolutely terrifying, Ginny, holy shit,” Ernie breathed.

“BLUE FOR THE LOVE OF MERLIN!” I heard Neville shout in the distance, so I quickly followed him, my legs pumping behind me as fast as they could.

“WHERE ARE THEY GOING?!” I shouted after Neville, but I could see that the five of them had managed to grab ahold of one of the men, pulling him to the ground by his robes and snarling and attacking him.

“BLUE!” I screamed. Blue looked up from her position, poised to leap onto the man’s head and start clawing at it.

“ _NO!_ ” Neville and I shouted in unison. Blue and the others immediately ran towards us almost sheepishly, the man screaming, getting up and running away.

“They could have used magic on you, Blue, what were you thinking?” I demanded, panting slightly. Neville rubbed my back comfortingly, though I could see tears in his eyes. I immediately turned to hold him tightly in my arms, soothing him softly with murmurs. He started sobbing into my shoulder and the raptors immediately circled around us, chirping in distress and rubbing up against his legs.

“Come on, we have to go back to the others and help clean up –“ I murmured. Neville nodded, wiping off his face with his hands and sniffling somewhat. The raptors eagerly came with us, all chirping madly and trying to comfort Neville even though he was standing.

“What in the name of Jesus Mary Joseph and all the saints happened?” I heard Maria shout as we approached the area.

“Some bigots decided to attack us,” Ernie muttered as we reached the clearing.

“Holy shite –“ Maria breathed, seeing the disheveled appearance of Neville as he walked up to all of us.

“Oh, and my little sister is a _Velociraptor_ now apparently,” Ron grunted.

“ _Utahraptor_ ,” I corrected tiredly.

“An animagus, right, because I’d be really confused otherwise –“ Maria demanded.

“Yeah,” Ginny sighed, “Guess I better register –“

“That’ll _totally_ go well,” I grumbled in annoyance.

“I’m sure it’ll go better than when you registered,” Hermione said nervously.

“I’m not sure of anything anymore. Those were totally Backlash members,” Sam sputtered in fury.

“Well the article should come out tomorrow,” Ginny huffed in fury.

“How much did we collect before this happened?” Ernie asked tiredly.

“By my count, nearly three hundred galleons,” Ron muttered.

“Holy shite,” we all shouted in unison.

“People like hot chocolate,” he shrugged.

“Then I guess we better pack up – it’s late at night and no one else is probably going to come down,” Ginny sighed.

Neville was clearly trying to not cry, and Ernie also looked defeated.

“I think Ernie and Neville should go back to the castle,” I murmured quietly.

“Yeah, take them – and the Flock – back up,” Ginny agreed. I grabbed onto both of their arms and lead them back up to the castle, exhaustion filling every one of my cells. The flock followed in a hurry, all of them looking distressed still, as we went up the castle steps and through the staircases, reaching the Room of Requirement and the couch in a defeated heap.

“Well you guys got a lot of money?” I offered tiredly as Neville immediately curled up into my lap and cried against my jeans.

“Yeah,” Ernie admitted as the Flock surrounded him and Neville on the couch.

“Can we leave?” Neville asked softly, his tears soaking through to my skin.

“If things keep going like this we might have to,” Ernie responded softly.

“We can’t abandon Harry,” I muttered.

“I like living,” Ernie stated simply.

“I know,” I agreed sadly.

“It wouldn’t be any better anywhere else, anyway,” Neville mumbled.

I sighed heavily and held him tightly to me, and we didn’t really say much else for the rest of the evening.

In fact, I couldn’t really sleep that night. I don’t think any of us could.

Because the next day the article would come out.

We got up early and ran to the Great Hall, terrified and eager all at once to see the aftermath of the Quibbler article. The Great Hall seemed normal as always, except all of the professors were muttering amongst themselves, and almost all the DA members were congregated at the Gryffindor table, everyone reading Quibbler papers and passing them amongst themselves.

I grabbed Neville’s hand and dragged him to the table, the two of us running quickly towards everyone. Harry immediately got up and gave us his Quibbler, the two of us holding it open together to read it.

**MINISTRY’S MISHANDLING**

**_How the Ministry of Magic is punishing its citizens for demanding change_ **

**By Katie Bell, Seamus Finnegan, Kat Everett, Pete Marlow, Elena Johnson, Claire Dewar, Nadia Hamidi, Sam Lee, Harry Potter, Dean Thomas**

**It is no secret that there are currently protests occurring in the United Kingdom. The people are fed up with the Ministry of Magic’s treatment of its citizens. Following the gross abuse of Hogwarts Students, Harry Potter and his compatriots in particular, people are disillusioned with the idea that the Ministry is keeping us safe.**

**“It became clear that all the Ministry is interested in is keeping things the way they have been,” said one rebellion member, who wished to remain anonymous, “And not in keeping us safe. If they were more concerned with that, they would have followed up on Dumbledore and Potter’s warnings, but they did not.”**

**This has become increasingly apparent in recent weeks. Many rallies and meetings held by those calling for Ministry Reform have been attacked by a movement known as the “Backlash,” a group of Ministry sympathizers who resort to violence, both verbal and physical, to intimidate rebellion members. What’s more, it appears that they are sanctioned by the Ministry itself.**

**“One of them was shouting about how it was impossible for him to get into trouble,” Pacifique Rolland commented, “As though it were impossible for there to be repercussions to his actions.”**

**Many other rebellion members seemed to agree. During a rally in Dublin, many Backlash members opened physical violence on the Rebellion, attacking them and engaging in fistfights in the middle of the muggle street. In Liverpool, similar situations arose, and some muggle bystanders got hurt in the process.**

**“There’s no way the muggle government will let this go for long,” Georgia Yavanesh explained, “The only question is when we will have to address it.”**

**One would think the maintenance of the statute of secrecy would be a concern for the Ministry, but this seems doubtful. In almost every major city in the United Kingdom there have been riots and fights. These fights often leave muggles in the crossfire, never mind rebellion members.**

**“It appears that the Ministry is either instigating or encouraging this violence,” Pacifique continued, “as a method of controlling the rebellion.”**

**There have not yet been reported deaths due to these attacks, however it will not be surprising when there are. Many have been seriously injured, with over thirty reported individuals admitted to hospitals as well as St. Mungo’s. Some admitted to St. Mungo’s, however, have apparently not been treated for their injuries.**

**Much of the violence against rebellion members has been verbal as well as physical. Slurs are commonly thrown at protestors, especially ones dealing with blood purity, race, and gender and sexual orientation. These hateful words have caused a major psychological toll on the protestors, and many reports feel unsafe even when not at rallies or rebellion functions.**

**“It’s creating a culture of fear against the other, and soon it won’t matter if you’re not even in the rebellion – if you aren’t white and pureblood, you’ll be attacked,” said one rebellion member who also wished to remain anonymous.**

**Though Hogwarts has not itself been targeted, just yesterday many writers of this article were also attacked, as well as their friends and associates, in Hogsmeade. The students were organizing a bake sale unrelated to the rebellion, and did not provoke the attackers. The attackers used homophobic and transphobic slurs against the group of children, physically attacking them.**

**“Whatever the Ministry is doing, it’s not doing it to keep us safe,” Pacifique explained.**

**If you have seen evidence of attacks or hate speech, please send letters to the Quibbler. We will keep you updated on the situation as it continues, and inform everyone of individuals to watch out for.**

**Stay safe.**

I looked up at Neville and he looked down at me before I turned to Harry.

“When did the stuff about yesterday get added?” I asked curiously.

“Originally it was a play by play of all the riots in the cities, but we figured this was much more potent,” Harry explained quietly.

“Well you’re not wrong,” I agreed tiredly.

“So what happens now?” Neville asked, looking still depressed from the day before. I quickly wrapped my arms tightly around him and squeezed as hard as I could.

“Nothing. We wait,” Harry shrugged.

That day, though, many students came up to us demanding if it was true – to which we had to be honest. A general sentiment of fear settled on the castle, enveloping everyone and clutching at our hearts.

I looked forward to Spellweaving class the next day to take my mind off of it – McGonagall was going to start teaching that day, and we’d get started actually making _spells_ rather than just pushing around elements. Granted, the latter was why I was in the class, but making spells would be what I was actually decent at, if my transfiguration was any indication.

“I’m just so tired,” Hermione sighed as we sat down together, staring out at the blackboard. Malfoy was no where to be seen.

“Same,” I agreed. Sam and Ernie walked in together then, and they were holding hands.

I immediately got up and started clapping. Hermione’s jaw dropped open as I shouted, “It’s about bloody time!”

“Oh shove off,” Sam blushed furiously, but Ernie beamed at me.

“So what brought this on, then?” Hermione asked, rolling her eyes as I continued to clap extremely enthusiastically.

“Well I’ve been _trying_ to get Sam’s attention in this way for _months_ ,” Ernie rolled his eyes.

“And I’ve been slowly gaining feelings for him,” Sam blushed furiously, an _extremely_ amusing sight on his face.

“And then between the battles where we’ve almost died and the bake sale eventually he just gave into his feelings,” Ernie beamed.

“More like ‘he’s extremely cute and he keeps almost dying I better kiss him before he dies,’” Sam muttered in annoyance.

“Why do you gotta make it sad?” Ernie pouted.

“Because that’s what I do, I’m your brooding artist boyfriend,” Sam rolled his eyes.

“Well I am very happy for you two, and very amused that Maggie is still clapping,” Hermione snorted.

“What? I’m excited!” I grinned. Malfoy still wasn’t there as McGonagall walked in.

“Alright, settle down, the lot of you,” she demanded. I immediately sat down, as did they, still holding hands under the table.

“Do you _realize_ what you all have done?” she snapped.

“What the –“ Ernie gasped in surprise.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about, MacMillan, that bloody article is going to get all of us killed!” McGonagall hissed.

“You’ve got to be exaggerating,” Hermione frowned.

“I am not,” McGonagall hissed, “Since that article came out there have been riots and fights all over the country. The Backlash people have been identified by Rebellion members and now they’re counter attacking. Violence is everywhere and the only reason you all don’t know about it is because you’re safe in here, but that’s obviously not going to last forever –“

“Fuck!” Sam shouted.

“Why – _why_ – did you all have to report on it?” McGonagall demanded.

“The rebellion members deserved to know! They have to be safe!” I insisted.

“And now none of us are!” McGonagall shouted.

“We had to do something! Did you _hear_ what happened on Saturday?” Hermione begged.

“Of course I did, and that was horrifying, but this is the _exact_ kind of rebuttle that the Ministry is not going to tolerate at all – don’t you know what the climate is there –“

“Are they going to put into place their Profiling measures?” I asked quietly. McGonagall looked at me sharply, her mouth thinner than I had ever seen it.

“How the bloody hell do you find these things out, Johnson?” she hadn’t used my last name in _years_. I actually _gulped_.

“Lucky… guess?” I offered.

“First the Backlash, now this – where did you hear that word?”  McGonagall demanded.

“I overheard your conversation with Ministry officials the other day,” I admitted tiredly.

McGonagall sighed, sitting at her desk and running her hands through her hair.

“Where the hell is Malfoy?” Sam asked after a while.

“I do not know,” McGonagall admitted.

“Probably avoiding me,” I sighed. All of them looked at me at once.

“I er… found him crying in a corridor right before the battle and confronted him,” I admitted sheepishly.

“Bloody hell, Maggie –“ Hermione groaned.

“Well never mind all that,” McGonagall stated promptly, “Let’s talk about the basics of inventing a spell.”

“I wonder when they’ll put in their measures,” Hermione stated sadly as we left the class.

“Probably not for a while, I mean, they’ll need to get the measures passed through the Ministry and all that, and Amelia Bones will probably stop it before it gets too far,” I suggested.

“You’re much too much of an optimist,” Ernie rolled his eyes. I sighed, and did not press the issue.

But of course, I was wrong.

“All students today must come to the Great Hall between the hours of eleven o’clock in the morning and four o’clock in the afternoon. It is required,” Dumbledore stated, but I could hear masked fury in his voice, “Failure to do so _will_ result in disciplinary action. Have a lovely day.”

I looked over at Hermione and Neville in terror, and they looked back at me with equal fear – the fear etched clearly upon all of our faces.

“Well, here it is,” Hermione sighed.

“It might not be –“ Neville stated timidly.

“When has our luck ever turned out better?” I groaned.

And so we all went to the Great Hall together, along with many of our friends, to find a bunch of tables with Ministry members, and lines of students heading up to them. We all entered a line, me heading the charge, my hands shaking madly from stress and fear. Neville wrapped his arms tightly around me from behind, but it wasn’t enough to calm me down – especially since he was shaking too.

Reaching the front of the table, the Ministry member pulled out a form, smirking a little when she saw my face.

“Name?” she asked in a sickly sweet voice.

“Margaret Natalie Johnson,” I stated calmly.

“Parents?” she continued.

“Nathaniel Mohe Johnson and Melinda Coira Keith Johnson, both deceased,” I continued.

“Parental blood status?”

“Pureblood and Muggleborn, respectively,” I mumbled, and I could hear Hermione breathe in sharply behind me.

“Race?”

“Cherokee, Inuit, Scottish, Norweigan,” I muttered.

“Gender?”

“Female…”

“Have you been given gender reassignment surgeries and hormones?”

“No…”

“Sexuality?”

“Pansexual,” I whispered, “Why do you need to know that?”

“It’s all for the official records,” the official smiled even more evilly, making me gulp harder.

“Religion?” she asked.

“Wasn’t raised with any,” I shrugged.

“Any mental health disabilities?” she continued.

“Not disabilities, just conditions, I have Depression and PTSD,” I whispered.

“Any history of drug or alcohol abuse?”

Neville squeezed his arms around me tighter.

“Yes,” I whispered.

“Any physical disabilities?”

“No,” I muttered.

“Last one,” she grinned so wide I could see all of her much too white teeth, “What would you say your political affiliations are – are you loyal to the Ministry, sympathetic to the so-called Death Eaters, or sympathetic to the current anti-Ministry Rebellion?”

“You know full well it’s the last one,” I whispered.

“Thank you,” she smiled wider, waving her wand on a strange piece of cloth. A bunch of empty boxes were suddenly filled with colors. She then took the cloth and slapped it on my right arm, and I heard the sound of the two fabrics sealing together.

“Please take that off and put it on your arm every day. Failure to do so will result in Ministry disciplinary action. Next!” she beamed. I moved to the side and watched as Neville answered the same questions as me and get different colors in his boxes, as did Hermione.

“Fucking hell,” Hermione whispered as we left, tears streaming down her face.

“Hermione –“

“This is the Holocaust! This is the Holocaust again! They’re labeling us like they labeled my people! Maggie!” Hermione sobbed hysterically.

“Hermione –“

“We’re all going to die! They’re going to pick us off one by one and stick us in a gas chamber and kill us!” Hermione broke down in the middle of the corridor, sobbing loudly and curling up into a ball.

“Mione,” Neville whispered, immediately reaching down and pulling up Hermione into his arms. We ran off together to the Room of Requirement, and I pulled out my Galleon to send a message to the DA.

_EMERGENCY MEETING NOW. SKIP CLASS._

Neville carried Hermione all the way to the Room, while I stopped off and grabbed the raptors from my room. I quickly followed with them in confused toe, reaching the Room to find Hermione crying in a ball on the couch, Neville sobbing into his hands next to her.

“I bring floof – guys, go,” I begged. Deena leapt into Neville’s hands and Penny reached Hermione, her holding onto Penny so tight that I knew it must have hurt her, but I doubted that Penny minded much. I reached Neville and held him in my arms, crying into his shoulder, my tears staining his own badge.

“What are we going to d-do?” Hermione sobbed hysterically.

“We run,” Neville whispered.

“We can’t run,” I insisted.

“Then they’re going to kill us all!” Hermione roared.

“Fuck if I’m going to let them,” I growled, “I will die before I let them do this to us.”

“Don’t you dare die – we’re leaving –“ Neville hissed.

“No, we have to stay and fix this,” I snapped, “You know we do.”

Hermione just sobbed and sobbed into Penny’s fur as DA members started coming in, talking to us hysterically and rapidly.

“Compare badges – look – “

“These colors match – what do we have in common –“

“Let’s figure this out –“

Most of the DA members were deciphering the code of the badges on blackboards they made appear in the classroom, and I helped them. Neville assisted as well, but Hermione was too busy crying. Ginny stayed with her on the couch, holding her tightly in her arms, trying to sooth her while crying herself.

“Okay so green is, you know, the good color –“

“Of bloody course –“

“Fucking Slytherins –“

“Oi!”

“Sorry…”

“But yes, it appears green is default – the top badge is blood purity, then race, gender orientation – “

“No differences based on male or female, just cis, trans and nonbinary –“

“Sexuality – no real indication of romantic orientation – religion, mental health, physical health, and politics –“

“Okay let’s reason this out –“

“Green is Pureblood, white, cis, heterosexual, Christian or Atheist or Agnostic, Neurotypical, Healthy, and loyal to the Ministry…”

“None of us are loyal to the Ministry, how’d you figure –“

“Saw some students in the hall on the way up –“

“Okay, cerulean is Halfbood, red is muggleborn –“

“Saw Filch, this isn’t just students, and his top one was fuchsia –“

“So squib is fuchsia –“

“Black is black –“

“Of _fucking_ course.”

“Yellow is East Asian –“

“Racist bastards.”

“Brown is Indian, purple is Jewish –“

“Stop the madness this is _horrifying_ –“

“Orange is Arabic or Persian, they didn’t seem to care about the difference –“

“Fuckers.”

“Olive Green is Latino…”

“We only know this because of me, one of three Latino kids in the fucking school,” Maria hissed.

“And red is Native American, Aboriginal, and Pacific Islander…”

“Hey Maggie,” Kat said dully, “We match.”

“Yahoo,” I grunted, “Racism is fun for the whole goddamned family.”

“Blue is binary trans, pink is nonbinary, purple is multisexual, pink is homosexual, grey is asexual…”

“Fuckers.”

“Purple is Jewish, olive green is Islamic, orange is Hindu, yellow is Buddhist, and red appears to be other…”

“WHY DO THEY EVEN _CARE?!_ ” Nadia screamed.

“Okay the mental health box appears to be divided up – the others were all just one color even if you were mixed race, but mental health appears to mark anything you might be –“

“Want to know who the craziest people are, no doubt.”

“If you have orange, you have – depression or anxiety or bipolar, it’s hard to figure it out –“

“Probably one of the three –“

“Aqua you have PTSD… Light purple a personality disorder… dark blue, Autism… Fuchsia OCD… goldenrod a substance dependence, thanks for that Maggie…”

“Fuck you too,” I grunted in annoyance.

“Not meaning to be rude – and lime green is another condition.”

“This is so much fun!” Ernie hissed sarcastically.

“If you have cerulean in the physical health box you have a minor physical disability… fuchsia a moderate one… red a major one…”

“Lost my god damned leg as a kid and it’s a _major disability_ –“

“And of course, blue is rebellious against the ministry, and dark green is ministry loyal. Any idea what a death eater would have?” Sam finished, drawing out all the colors on the board with different shades of chalk.

“Probably lime green or something like the Dark Mark,” Harry sighed. He was actually at the front of the room for once, and everyone turned to look at him, even Hermione.

“What do we do, mate?” Anthony asked. He looked as shaken as Hermione, and no wonder – he was also Jewish.

“I have no idea,” Harry groaned.

“Like you need to care, you only have three different boxes and one of those is being halfblood,” Maria snapped before she could stop herself.

“Hey!” Harry shouted, “Look, I obviously am more privileged than most of you – I get that – you _know_ I get that!”

“I know,” Maria sighed, “I’m sorry.”

“I’ve not been doing well lately,” Harry swallowed heavily, tears filling his eyes before he wiped them away, “And I know you’re all freaking out because this is –“

“This is the Holocaust!” Anthony screamed.

“Yes,” Harry whispered, “Look, this is bad. But we can’t run away – I don’t think we can run away.”

“Why the bloody hell not?”

“Because we’re safe in the castle… imagine what’s happening to rebellion members on the streets,” he whispered.

A deathly silence went up over the group.

“They’re looking to us,” Harry swallowed, his voice shaking somewhat, “They’re looking to us, and our example. How would it look if we abandoned them?”

Everyone watched him; many were crying, but no one spoke out against.

“This is terrifying,” Harry paused, “And I’m not saying that you don’t have a right to be scared. And if you want to run, you can – but I don’t think we all can. I’ll stay, at any rate. Yeah, I have a lot of privilege – but I’m in danger too. Just not as much. I will stay, and make sure the people know there’s still someone on their side… someone with them… we have to make sure that they aren’t abandoned…”

“You’re right, Harry,” Nadia whispered.

“What if they start rounding us up?” Anthony muttered, his voice shaking with every word.

“Then we’ll defend each other. This isn’t the muggle world. They’re not going to just – have guns – when we don’t,” Harry stated firmly, “They don’t have any more of a fucking army than we do. We have wands, and they have wands, and we’ll fucking _fight back_ if we have to, but we’re not going to let them take _anyone_.”

“What do we do about the streets?” Sam stated calmly, but he was clearly sweating with terror, “Look, part of this is _bound_ to be so Backlash people can identify rebellion members easier if rebellion members stop putting the lightening bolts on their heads –“

“We have to do rallies again, and they’ll have ministry loyal on their badges, identifying them just as much as ours identify us,” Harry stated calmly, “If we see them approach our rallies –“

“Wouldn’t we want to convert others? And what if the Ministry gives them disguise badges?” Ernie whispered.

“Well for that we’ll find out – and if we see someone get violent or verbal and they’re surrounded by a lot of other ministry loyal people –“

“At the very least, yes, we should give more speeches again – show our support – show we stand with them, when the Ministry has all but killed them,” Nadia agreed.

“So what do we do now?” Pete asked quietly.

The silence hung over the air for a long time.

“I… don’t know,” Harry admitted quietly.

“We go back to life,” I sighed, “We go back to life, and ignore that we have things on our arms literally pointing out that we’re different.”

“Sounds great,” Neville muttered. Everyone slowly left the room, but Hermione was left crying, and nothing anyone could say would quell her.

In fact, she remained that depressed for the rest of the week.

“Come on, Hermione, Ginny’s putting on a party, and it’s a Queer Club party, so I _highly_ doubt Harry will be there,” I muttered, sitting with her in Neville’s and my room as Neville left to go help Ginny set up the party.

“No,” she muttered irritably.

“Hermione…” I sighed, “You need to stop thinking about it.”

Frequently she would claw at the badge, but it wouldn’t come off as long as the clothing was on her arm. The badges would then remove themselves when we took off the clothing, and would start glowing read hot and burning through things until we put them on whatever we were wearing – if we were naked, you’d have to put it against your skin for it to register that there was no clothing to bind to – and even then, you’d have to periodically put it against your bare right arm for it to stop turning back on, for lack of a better term, again.

“I can’t,” she whispered.

I sighed, “Alright, I’ll stay with you.” I didn’t much want to go to the party anyway. I didn’t feel like celebrating much either. I sat with her on Neville’s and my bed, the raptors all crowding around us in a pile of comforting floof.

“I only have two green boxes,” Hermione mumbled.

“I mean, I only have three,” I reassured quietly.

“Only two, Maggie. I only have two,” she started crying again, “They’re going to kill me first.”

“You don’t know that –“

“Of course I do. I’ve lead the rebellion. I’ve become a symbol. Sam has _literally_ drawn posters of me leading a rebellion chant that are up in every Quibbler on the Thursday edition,” Hermione sobbed more, tears streaking down her face, “And I’m Jewish, and they’re going to kill me –“

“Look, they might be _pulling_ a Hitler, but they are _not_ Hitler – you being Jewish is not what they actually care about.”

Hermione nodded, but she was shaking from head to foot. I knew her anxiety didn’t believe me, so I wrapped my arms tightly around her and squeezed.

“You’re not going to get gassed.” I whispered, “You’re not. You’re not going to get gassed, I promise. I promise, Hermione.”

She sobbed into my chest and I held her tightly, crying a little into her bushy, huge hair.

“I don’t want to die,” she whispered.

“I know, but I’m not going to let them kill you,” I stated calmly. She looked up at me, tears streaking down her cheeks and face, sniffling a little as she did so.

“Look, you’re my best friend. At this point you’re my sister, and if they try to kill you I’ll burn the whole fucking place down,” I whispered. Hermione smiled weakly, before wiping away the tears from her eyes.

“I’m just so scared – this is the kind of thing they teach you growing up Jewish – they warn you – they warn you you’ll always be implicitly labeled – just watch out for explicit labels –and I – I can’t – I’ve had so many anxiety attacks. This has been the main source of my anxiety since I was a little kid – I’ve always been convinced that – that this would h-happen!” she sobbed.

“I know, but I’m not going to let them, okay? Worst comes to worst, we run away,” I reassured softly. She nodded, crying against me again, her hair bouncing all over her face.

“I just can’t deal with this. The stress, the constant fear – everything is overwhelming. My thoughts have been in a whirl since everything started and each new thing just – my mind is a tornado, Maggie, I can’t think straight,” Hermione mumbled.

“I know,” I sighed, “I’m so sorry Mione.”

She nodded, sniffling heavily.

“You’re under so much stress – you need to – I think you need to let some things go,” I suggested quietly.

“Like what?” she demanded angrily.

“I don’t know,” I sighed, “Maybe take a step back in the rebellion?”

“How can I do that?” she muttered, “They need me.”

“I don’t know,” I agreed softly, “I… I don’t know. But you’re clearly under too much stress and you’ve been acting irrationally.”

“I know,” she muttered quietly. We sat there like that for the rest of the night, her crying and me holding her, hoping that nothing she feared would come to fruition.

I wouldn’t be able to live on this planet anymore if it did.

She slept in our room that night, and Neville didn’t ask any questions – I think he understood, given how evocative this was, especially for the Jewish students. I curled up around Neville, and she curled up around me, and we all held each other as we slept,

“We’ll just stay in today, okay?” Neville offered as she woke up and began crying again, having cuddled with her immediately, as did I.

Hermione nodded, her hair moving wildly about her face. We stayed in the room and read together, doing our homework quietly and not really talking or saying much.

Before the screaming started.

“Not _again_ ,” I groaned, holding my face in my hands. Hermione got up and immediately ran out of the room, Neville and I following quickly. We ran out to the grounds, and it was so late at night I could barely see in front of my face – but I could see shadows moving about in the darkness, Death Eaters coming up to the Castle.

“We’re _baaaack!_ ” I heard a distinctive, horrid voice call out.

“Fuck,” Neville hissed.

“Fucking Lestrange,” Hermione snapped. More students were joining us on the grounds, congregating in huge groups, wands out and lit.

“See if you can stop us now,” Bellatrix cackled.

“Oh for the love of god, we can stop you _whenever_ ,” I rolled my eyes in pure annoyance.

“FINE!” she screeched, and the battle began, spells going out wildly and brilliantly in the night, lighting it up in the darkness as we all started running about the fields, spells whipping about and overwhelming us. I chased directly after Bellatrix, shouting at the top of my lungs and shooting endless spells at her, unable to control myself or my anger that she would dare disturb our peace after such a long and terrifying week.

She cackled and turned on me, and we started fighting extensively, spells firing through the air and whirring past our heads, filling my ears with heat and sound. Neville joined me and we fought hard together against the bitch, our faces shining with sweat in the light of the spells. It was such a dark night that no stars or the moon shone above our hells, and everything was tense.

The screaming, it appeared, had been from fourth years joshing around on the grounds – they all ran back into the castle, screaming still, as all the older students (and some younger ones) came out to fight again.

“LEAVE OUR SCHOOL ALONE, _DAMMIT!_ ” Neville roared.

“We need something in there little boy, and you’re not going to be the one to stop us!” Bellatrix roared.

“Bellatrix, stop taunting them, we have to move forward – the Dark Lord is frustrated with our sheer lack of progress!” another death eater hissed.

Bellatrix snorted, and suddenly pulled out a wave of elementalism fire, overwhelming the grounds with it. I shouted and pushed it back at her, Neville immediately sending bursts of water towards her as well. She tried to fight back but we overwhelmed her, having practiced extensively, probably more than she had. I flipped around on my feet and danced about in the air, swirling my arms around me as I flung fire towards her as rapidly and heavily as I could. She screeched with fury, flinging the fire back at me, but Neville immediately countered with his own water, spinning it about his head and shoving it in her direction.

She was quickly getting overwhelmed and tried to use fire to escape, riding on it like a rocket, but I pushed back with fire directly in her face. She screeched with surprise and fell hard to the ground, coughing and sputtering up dirt as she crawled towards us angrily. Neville shot her back with a blast of water, sending her flying through the air and landing farther away with a sickening crunch.

“Think I finally killed her?” Neville asked tiredly, but almost immediately after she started to weakly get to her feet. The grounds were now alight with fires everywhere, and I groaned in sadness that the horrid human was still alive.

“After her?” I hissed. Neville nodded and we chased after Lestrange, running towards her as she turned on Harry and Ron, who were fighting together. Harry shouted at us to keep back but we didn’t listen to him, running quickly towards the scene as Order members started showing up around the castle, fighting against Death Eaters as well. Sirius ran over to us from the castle, as did Lupin, all of us fighting against a crowd of Death Eaters together as Bellatrix was joined on her side by a gaggle of them.

I shot spell after spell at Bellatrix as some more DA members came over, including Hermione, but she still pointedly ignored Harry, fighting against Bellatrix on her own. Lestrange started shouting and turning on Hermione, sending endless curses towards her, ones that were deadly and she narrowly missed.

“LEAVE HER ALONE!” I screamed. Lestrange turned on me again, sending endless curses after me, hitting me in the shoulder with sectumsempra. I fell to the ground in pain, blood pouring from the wound as Lestrange turned on other targets and Neville ran to me, waving his wand over me and muttering the incantations we had now learned almost by heart from all the times this spell had been used against us.

“VISCERAVULNO!” she screamed. A purple spell shot from her wand, and I screamed in shock as it flew through the air and hit Harry in the side, sending him instantly to the ground, blood shooting up horrifyingly from his mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heheh... heh... heh... heh! Thank you all for your comments, and actually I've already written most of the next chapter, so that should be up soon. PLEASE comment! They were SO HELPFUL for me to write more you have NO idea!


	111. Chapter One Hundred and Ten: November 23 - December 1, 1996, Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I won't sleep again til' I hear it come to the end   
> I remember now, how it all turned out 
> 
> It used to be fun, but we were young   
> I feel so bad, we were had   
> It used to be fun, but we were young   
> This used to be fun, now we're in love 
> 
> You set me up when you wake the ghost in me,   
> as you shake the ghost in me   
> You said enough to wake the ghost in me   
> No mistake, this ghost in me has found a home." 
> 
> ~ Silversun Pickups, "Tapedeck"

Chapter 110: November 23 – December 1, 1996, Hogwarts

I started screaming.

Or Hermione started screaming.

Or Neville was screaming?

Someone was screaming.

Someone else was stunning Lestrange, and someone else – Sirius – was getting to Harry as quick as he could. I got up and crawled over to him, my heart in my throat, my eyes swimming with tears as I actually saw the sight I had feared for so much of my life –

“Maggie get back!”

The voices were disembodied and I could barely think straight as Sirius worked hard on Harry’s corpse –

It had to be a corpse –

“Get her out of here!”

“All three of them – now!”

There was so much blood coming out of Harry’s mouth that I could barely think straight – I could even _smell_ it – so the smell literally filled my nostrils, and suddenly, I was passing out in someone’s arms.

When I woke up, I was in the Hospital Wing, in the same bed as Neville – either they had given up on even attempting to keep us apart, or he was awake –

“Hey,” he greeted quietly.

“Hey,” I whispered.

“Are you okay?” he asked, wiping the hair from my face and kissing my forehead lovingly. I nodded, looking up at him and kissing him on the lips.

“How are you?” I asked softly.

“Shaken, but alright. You fainting was terrifying, not as terrifying as – but terrifying,” Neville sighed.

“Where –“ I began quietly.

“Over there,” Neville pointed to a bed.

“He’s still alive?” I asked in shock. Neville nodded.

“How?” I whispered in shock.

“Sirius got to him in time,” Neville murmured, “He’s over there, he’s in a coma though – his internal organs were heavily damaged, I mean his lungs were basically filling with blood –“

I started sobbing horrifically and Neville held me tightly to him, soothing me softly and rubbing my back calmly.

“You got hurt too, Maggie, you need to take care of yourself. Just sleep,” Neville whispered. I nodded, and curled up against him, eventually falling asleep against his chest and nuzzling there calmly. The soothing sound of his heart beating steadily lulled me to sleep as always.

However, the next day, when Madam Pomfrey told me to leave, I couldn’t. I stayed the whole day, and when night fell and it was time for us to go, I couldn’t leave Harry’s side as he slept – indefinitely – on his bed.

I couldn’t force myself to leave the Hospital Wing.

“Mags, we should sleep,” Neville murmured sadly, sitting next to me and holding me in his arms as we sat in the awkward hospital wing chairs.

“Nev, I don’t want to leave,” I mumbled. I swallowed heavily and turned to cry into his chest, and he squeezed me tighter.

“What spells did Bellatrix even hit him with?” Neville asked quietly, “I was too busy trying to help you to even see –“

“That purple spell again, and it wasn’t nonverbal, unlike with you and Seamus” I managed to sniffle, “I – I – I thought he was dead.”

“Good thing Sirius was there, fixed him up quickly,” Neville reassured.

“Yeah,” I nodded. I didn’t know what was worse – that Harry had nearly died, or that the pain I had felt at the thought that he was dead was _nowhere_ near the pain I had felt when I had thought Neville dead. It was still pain, but it was pain I knew, in that moment, I could live through – not like –

I let out a sob and held to Neville tighter, shaking slightly with horror.

“Alright, we can stay here,” he sighed. Harry was asleep on his bed, and wasn’t moving much, and he honestly looked dead. His skin was paler than I had ever seen it, and his chest was barely moving.

“What would we do if he died?” I asked after a while of watching him. Neville made a choked sound.

“I don’t know. I don’t think it would be a good omen for the war if he died, honestly,” Neville whispered.

“No, it wouldn’t be,” I agreed. I briefly looked down at my sleeve, and the badge on it. I looked away, shutting my eyes tightly.

“It would basically mean – according to the prophecy – that no one defeated Voldemort,” Neville continued.

“Yeah,” I acknowledged, my heart in my throat.

“Mags, I… We’d run,” Neville stated simply. He looked down at his own badge, his face paling considerably as he did so.

“We would,” I agreed quietly.

“We’d _have_ to, just to bloody _live_ ,” Neville mumbled. I nodded more fully, thinking of Hermione’s panic – of everyone’s panic –

It would be a mass exodus –

In so many different potent ways –

“Good thing Harry isn’t dead, then,” I whispered.

“Yeah,” Neville agreed, holding me tighter. I watched Harry barely breathe and gripped Neville’s leg tightly, the darkness of midnight engulfing the Hospital Wing.

The door to the Wing opened quietly; we looked up in shock and I immediately pulled out my wand, expecting someone to try and attack Harry while he was still vulnerable. The battle had only ended this morning, after all – the Death Eaters had been spurred on by the falling of Harry, and they almost pushed through to the castle, but luckily almost all the Order members arrived to fight them off and the castle was held –

But it was Hermione.

Neville’s mouth literally dropped open as I gasped as quietly as I could, “ _Hermione?!_ ”

“Hey,” she greeted in a whisper, sitting next to Harry’s bed on the other side. She didn’t look at him, or at us, just out the window. I could see tears on her cheeks in the moonlight. This wasn’t new, given the week, but I figured they weren’t about the usual thing.

Neville and I remained silent – I knew if she wanted to talk, she would start herself. And the silence lasted a long time – Neville holding me, her staring out the window and crying, me watching her cry, Harry barely breathing.

His lungs had been badly damaged, after all.

Each breath went in and out raggedly, so raggedly that it pained my soul – I swallowed heavily and tried to not think about it too much.

“Have you –“ Hermione suddenly whispered, but she soon became overcome with sobbing again, and I wanted to reach out for her but I couldn’t do it without jostling Harry, and I _certainly_ didn’t want to do that.

“Have you ever regretted – everything?” she finally managed to gasp out.

“Hermione –“ I responded, my voice breaking.

“I thought he’d died. How stupid I was,” Hermione sniffled, “How stupid I was, to think that I could go on being mad at him, when any day he could –“

“In a normal world, you’d be able to be mad at him,” Neville reassured.

“And if you really couldn’t reconcile what he had done, then you had not obligation to be with him, Hermione, no matter how you felt,” I furthered.

“I know, I just – oh god, the feeling – that feeling I had when he –“ Hermione began sobbing more, holding her face in her hands.

“It was like getting crushed under a hundred elephants,” Neville offered. Hermione nodded rapidly.

“It felt like your soul was getting sucked out of your body and you were left with only pain?” I furthered. Hermione nodded even more rapidly.

“I don’t know what I was thinking – his BPD was bad, I knew this, why did I get so mad at him –“ Hermione whimpered.

“Because mental illness doesn’t excuse mistreating you and not allowing you the freedom of choice, Hermione,” Neville murmured.

“Wasn’t it his choice, though, as well? He didn’t want to date me, why doesn’t he have a say?” Hermione whispered, and I could tell all of the insecurities she had about her anger were pouring through like a river.

It had been a horrible week – she did not deserve this on top of everything – she couldn’t handle _any_ of this –

“That still didn’t give him the right to be rude, or controlling, or not talk to you directly about it,” I reassured. She needed peace – her mind needed _peace_ –

“I still shouldn’t have been so mad – oh god – oh god, what if he had _died_?” Hermione sobbed, now leaning against the bed and shaking. She fell from her chair with the force of her emotions, collapsing on the floor and gathering the top sheet of the bed into her hands and sobbing into it. I immediately ran around the bed towards her, helping her up, Neville coming to do so as well. We returned her to her chair, her still sobbing horrifically, her tiny little body shaking with each sob that came up from her lungs and out through her mouth and nose.

“Well he didn’t,” I reassured quietly.

“Hermione, you’re a human being, worthy of respect and decent treatment – do not blame yourself for seeking that from someone who claims to care about you,” Neville reinforced.

Hermione just sobbed louder.

“Look, it’s not too late,” I continued.

“Yes it is! Oh he must hate me now, for being so –“ Hermione cried.

“He could never hate you, Mione,” Neville whispered.

“Never,” I agreed.

Hermione sniffled, and wiped off her face with her hands. She took a long, deep breath and pulled herself more firmly onto her chair as we returned to ours, her shaking slightly but swallowing in determination as she did so. I immediately curled up into Neville’s arms, holding to him tightly. He held back, rubbing my back comfortingly and kissing the top of my head.  

“The price of great love is great misery when one of you dies,” I murmured softly, “He didn’t go about it the right way, _at all_ , but he was trying to protect himself from that misery, that’s all he was doing, Hermione.”

“You’ve punished him enough, I think,” Neville agreed. Hermione cried harder and held herself tighter.

“But do I want to be with someone who would treat me like that?” she demanded, looking furious, “You were emotionally abused, Maggie, is this abuse?”

I swallowed, my mind entering something of a panic at that. I opened my mouth wordlessly and closed it again a few times.

Thinking of George was too much right now.

Thinking of how George had made me feel afraid and trapped for _months_ before – violently – horrifically – letting me go was too much right now.

I started shaking in my seat from all the memories and Neville held me tighter.

“Mags doesn’t –“ Neville began.

“No I – I’m okay,” I took a deep breath, regaining my composure, “Hermione, Harry wasn’t trying to control you – not in an abusive sense, at any rate. George wanted to control my life. Harry just wanted you to _be_ alive, which I don’t think anyone would think is _abusive_. He just went about it the wrong way. And briefly got jealous, but hell, that happens to everyone – Neville’s gotten jealous, I’ve gotten jealous, _you_ certainly have – and he didn’t know how to express it right.”

Hermione nodded, sniffling heavily.

“I think if Harry acknowledges that his behavior was wrong – which he will – then you’re good,” I breathed. Hermione nodded and sobbed more heavily, holding her face in her hands as tears streamed down her face again. I could tell that she just needed to cry, so I let her be, nestling up against Neville closer and breathing in his scent. I wanted to mutter that I was glad we hadn’t been idiots, but I didn’t want to make Hermione more upset. I instead snuggled up into his arms and fell asleep, after a time. Hermione must have slept in the chair – at any rate, none of us left, mostly because none of us found that we could.

We kept our vigil by Harry’s bed for days. We left, of course, to go to class, and to eat, but most of the time we just spent there. Given the extent of his injuries, it was uncertain when he’d wake up.

“But he will wake up,” Madam Pomfrey reassured, as Elena and Claire came to join our watch for a few hours.

“Is this a coma?” Hermione asked, sniffling somewhat. Claire and Elena were holding each other’s hands so tightly their knuckles were white.

“No,” Pomfrey responded firmly, “Mr. Potter just needs his rest while his internal organs recover. I’ve been giving him potions, as you are all aware, and he has been recovering steadily and as expected.”

“You just don’t know when he’ll wake up,” Elena whispered hoarsely.

“No, I do not,” Pomfrey admitted, “But it shouldn’t be long, now.”

“Isn’t that the definition of a coma?” I demanded sharply. Pomfrey sighed heavily.

“Yes, I suppose – but I know that he will wake up, most comas you don’t –“

“You don’t know that, not for sure,” I muttered mutinously.

“Maggie, she’s doing her best,” Elena sniffled.

“Sorry,” I sighed.

“it’s quite alright,” Pomfrey responded immediately, “I understand the stress you are all under. This has been terrible to deal with – all of it.”

Hermione wrung her wrists nervously. I had no idea what to do or say.

“Just… relax, all of you,” Pomfrey ordered tiredly, before wandering off to other people in Hospital beds – Harry hadn’t been the only injured person in the battle, after all. Seamus was only _now_ coming out of the Hospital Wing – and the spell had been nonverbal for him –

Who knew when Harry would be allowed to leave, much less when he would wake up.

So a full week went on like that – Harry unconscious, the rest of us barely present in our lives. Frankly, the time was so painful for me that I can barely even think of it to this day – for a while there, I thought that Harry had _definitely_ died, and was just holding out for a while as his body finally conked out – no matter what Pomfrey said. I went to class, I learned how to invent spells and how to do complex arithmancy and I worked on my transfigurations and how to make _Tyrannosaurus,_ but I wasn’t present for any of it.

None of us were.

I was sleeping in Neville’s lap, the two of us lying on the available bed next to Harry, Hermione still in her chair but perched in it like a bird, staring out the window. Given her form, this wasn’t surprising – still, the similarities were striking. Elena and Claire were elsewhere. As I fell asleep against Neville’s warm chest, I remembered thinking that at least I had him still, and when we ran away after Harry’s funeral, we’d have each other. And Hermione, and probably most of the others, too – we’d all leave together – a mass exodus to freedom –

But now I was being shaken awake – Neville was holding me by the shoulders and shaking me gently.

“Wh – what?” I asked groggily, stirring against him and nuzzling my face into his chest.

“Harry’s moving,” Neville murmured. I immediately sat up with a start, staring at the bed and scurrying over to it. Hermione was gripping the nightstand in terror, her knuckles white against the wood. Harry was moving slightly in his sleep, and I could feel my breath catch in my throat.

“Harry?” I asked, my voice croaking somewhat with the effort of talking, “Harry?”

Harry mumbled groggily, shifting even more.

“Madam Pomfrey!” Neville shouted, “Pomfrey! He’s moving!”

Hermione was sobbing now, wringing her wrists and shaking as she stood next to his bed, shifting so much that she might as well have begun pacing. Pomfrey quickly came over and checked on him; as she did so, he went still again.

I sobbed loudly and Neville wrapped his arms as tightly around me as he could, squeezing. Pomfrey looked up at us and sighed.

“Getting there, but not quite. May I please suggest you all go out and get some – some fresh air? Leave this room for longer than necessary, even? This is not good on your health,” Pomfrey shook her head.

“We want to be here if –“ my words stopped and I sniffled softly.

Pomfrey sighed, but said nothing more.

I returned back to my perch on the other bed, curling up and falling asleep. I was tired. I didn’t feel like being awake. Neville held me again, and I didn’t know what he did, but I wasn’t really aware of much of anything really.

Eventually I woke up again; I had to pee. I shifted and moved out of Neville’s arms – he was asleep too. Hermione had also fallen asleep in her chair. This was all fairly reasonable, as it was getting late, and none of us had much energy anymore. I walked slowly to the bathroom, did my business, and walked slowly back, rubbing my arms.

“Maggie?”

I turned on my heel in shock to see Harry sitting up in bed, rubbing his eyes and looking around in confusion.

“Wha –“

“POMFREY!” I screamed, running to Harry and reaching for his arm. Neville and Hermione both stirred awake as Madam Pomfrey quickly came over and began checking on Harry, him just sitting there in confusion.

“What is going on?” Harry asked groggily. Hermione had begun sobbing again and Neville was too – hell, so was I.

“You were hit with a spell that damages and destroys your internal organs, and your lungs as a result filled with blood. You nearly died, and Sirius helped to patch you up,” Pomfrey answered brusquely, “And you have been unconscious for around a week.”

“Wha – what spell?”

“The one we do not have a name for yet – the purple spell – the one that damages your internal organs – the one that hit your friend Seamus and Neville, so I hear at one time – so please _sit still!_ Your friends here have refused to leave this whole time, they’ve been anxious for you to wake up, but you _must keep resting!_ ”

“The whole time?” Harry asked in confusion, his eyes briefly darting to Hermione’s before turning back to his lap.

“Yes, the whole time – let me just do some tests and I’ll leave you lot alone. _Honestly_ ,” Pomfrey sighed. Harry sat still, letting her work, while Hermione cried into her hands and Neville and I calmed somewhat – Harry was looking embarrassed and nervous, probably at Hermione being so close to him specifically (rather than just in a crowd) for the first time in, what for him anyway, was three weeks.

“Alright, you seem to be recovering as expected. You lot don’t stay for too long, he needs _rest_ ,” Pomfrey ordered. We all nodded silently as she walked back to her office. I turned to Harry and smiled at him weakly.

“We’re so glad you’re alive,” I murmured.

“Thanks,” Harry responded, shifting somewhat, “So I really almost died, huh?”

“Yeah,” Neville nodded, “It was right terrifying, mate.”

“Sorry for that – I mean, inevitable in war, right?” Harry sighed.

“Seems to be,” I agreed softly. The elephant in the room was bigger than ten sauropods combined.

“I,” Harry swallowed visibly, shifting somewhat in his seat, “I… er…”

“Don’t – Harry, you just recovered, you shouldn’t exert yourself too much,” Neville stated calmly.

“No,” Harry shook his head madly, “No, no, no.”

I looked at him and frowned heavily.

“No, I nearly died, and I didn’t – no,’ Harry shook his head. He then took a long, deep breath, and turned to Hermione. Hermione was crying openly, and she opened her mouth to speak.

“Hermione, I’m sorry,” Harry stated calmly before she could, quickly looking away from her, “I know you’re about to say something about regret, or what have you, because of the fact I almost died, but I have to say this first, because – because you wouldn’t be saying this if I hadn’t nearly died, and I just – you deserve to hear this. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I was a prat. I’ve been – I’ve been going through so much lately. That’s no excuse, none at all, I just – I just can’t control my BPD lately. I just can’t. It’s been bad. Shae’s been having trouble helping me. Dr. Wilson can’t seem to help me either. I’m un-help-able. I’m a disaster. This is what broke me up with Ginny, I’m a grenade, I’m horrible around people – no wonder – and you didn’t deserve to be mistreated by me, because of my shit, and I’m sorry, I’m so – I’m so ashamed with how I treated you – how I took away your own agency in your life – how I wouldn’t be with you but also wouldn’t let you go – oh god – I was the worst kind of person – I’m so sorry – I’m so ashamed of myself that I can’t even look you in the eye right now – that’s why I haven’t tried talking to you since our fight – I knew I did everything wrong – I’m so sorry – I just wanted you to know that I was sorry,” he said very fast to his hands in his lap, “I’m so sorry. I’ll regret it for the rest of my life, but of _course_ you don’t love me anymore – how could you – I’m – I’m – I’m amazed I don’t push _everyone_ away nowadays, but beyond that, I treated you terribly, and I’m so sorry I did that, I’m so so so so sorry, and I just can’t stand that we aren’t talking anymore, I accept that you don’t love me anymore, but I can’t stand not being your friend, it breaks me up inside, it’s worse than anything I could have ever imagined, it’s completely your choice, but I have never been more miserable than I have been the past few weeks, and I just – I feel so manipulative right now, dammit, dammit I’m sorry, you don’t owe me anything, I’m sorry, I’m a grenade, I meant it, I don’t know why you’re all here, I’m toxic, I –“ Harry rambled.

“Harry, calm down, this is the opposite of what Pomfrey said to do,” I urged, reaching out and holding his arm.

“It’s alright mate, we understand the pitfalls of mental illness, we do,” Neville nodded.

Harry was sobbing horrifically into his hands. Hermione looked horrified.

“I’ve ruined everything, I ruin everything, dammit, dammit, dammit,” Harry sobbed into his hands.

“Harry, please, please, please calm down,” I begged, “It’s alright, you don’t ruin everything, I _promise_ , Harry –“

“Hermione, I don’t know why you’re here, you have every right to hate me, and you have no obligation to be here for me, I’m sorry, I’m sorry I’ve hurt you for all these years, I’m so sorry, please let yourself be free, I don’t want to hurt you anymore, I hurt everyone around me, oh God, please, please let me stop hurting you,” Harry sobbed, now curling up around himself despite me trying to get him to relax. He couldn’t have been helping his internal organs doing that, never mind everything else.

“Harry I don’t hate you –“ Hermione finally managed to interject.

“Why not? Why do any of you – why – I’m not worth of anything – I –“ Harry stammered.

“Harry, take a deep breath,” I begged. Harry looked at me and did breathe in deeply, tears still streaming from his eyes in rivers, his eyes and face red and blotchy.

“Good, keep breathing deeply, okay?” I demanded. He nodded and kept doing so.

“Harry, you’re spiraling. I promise that no one thinks that you’re a grenade,” I murmured.

“You don’t?” Harry whispered.

“We don’t,” Neville agreed, “Harry, mate, we all love you – care about you – whatever. Being you is _hard_. None of us blame you for your BPD, and we understand what it entails.”

“Okay,” he gasped, wiping his eyes off hurriedly, “I still – I don’t know how to say what I was saying without having a breakdown –“

“Just say you’re sorry for being a dick,” Neville offered. I laughed weakly. Harry managed to smile somewhat.

“I’m sorry for being a dick,” Harry stated calmly, still not looking at her – I wasn’t sure he could.

“Harry, I forgive you,” Hermione murmured, crying softly, so soft that you could barely tell, just see streams of tears running down her face.

Perhaps she was just out of tears.

“Thank you,” Harry murmured, “I don’t deserve it.”

“Harry, you – you’re sick,” Hermione finally settled on, “And I don’t think the severity of it ever dawned on me. I’m not happy with what you did, but I understand what motivated it, and that a lot of it wasn’t really in your control.”

“Thanks,” Harry mumbled, “That means a lot.”

“Harry, when I thought you had died – I – I regretted everything. Everything. Every single thing,” Hermione sniffled, “I thought that I had fucked it all up because I wasn’t willing to be more understanding about your BPD –“

“You shouldn’t have to be, if you can’t keep up with it then –“

“Harry, can you please look at me?”

Harry looked up and at her, his whole face pained as he did so.

“I’m sorry, it just hurts to look at you – I –“ Harry swallowed. Hermione was speechless, looking heartbrokenly at him.

“It’s like my heart is getting smashed with a hammer, but I can, I can do it,” Harry nodded.

“Harry –“

“I just know I screwed everything up because I took too long to feel the same way about you, and when I did I was a prick,” Harry sniffled, “So I both – I see you and I – regret, and self loathing, and longing, and it’s hard, but I can, and I can get used to it, I’ll have to, if I want to be friends – do you want to be friends? Please can we be friends – not talking to you is worse –“

“Harry please, I know you’re panicking, but can I please talk?” Hermione begged. Harry’s mouth immediately flew shut and he nodded, looking even more guilty than before.

“It’s okay, I understand,” Hermione reassured softly, “Harry, when I thought you had died, it was as if – someone had torn my heart out of my chest. It doesn’t matter that I was mad at you – it didn’t matter that I thought I had convinced myself I no longer cared for you – it was that pain, it was that very fresh, very sharp pain. I thought you had died. And I was regretful too. So regretful. You screwed up. I didn’t really give you a chance to apologize – and now you have – and – “

“What are you saying?” Harry whispered, his face paler than a sheet.

“I’m saying – I’m saying I love you,” Hermione managed to gasp out, looking terrified as she did so – after all, she had spent the better part of four years actively _not_ saying that.

“You – you still do? After everything?” Harry gasped. He looked genuinely shocked and awed – and disbelieving.

“I do,” Hermione mumbled, “Harry, you’re a broken person – but I knew that already. I always knew that. And I’m a broken person too, so there’s that.”

“Not as broken as me,” Harry shook his head.

“You’d be surprised,” Hermione smiled weakly, “At any rate, yeah. I do. I love you.”

“I love you,” Harry immediately responded, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I fucked everything up.”

“You didn’t fuck everything up,” Hermione shook her head.

“I don’t – I don’t see how we can be – after what I did –“ Harry mumbled sadly.

“You underestimate the pain I’ve been in,” Hermione whispered.

“I don’t think I do, since I’ve – I’ve also been in pain,” Harry whispered back.

Neville and I were literally hanging on the edge of our seats on the bed.

This was the most captivating thing that had happened _since they stopped talking_.

“But how could you – how could you be with someone like me – I’m a grenade – I’m going to hurt you again – I’m going to hurt everyone again – I know it – I know it – Hermione you’re not doing the right thing, you need to leave, you’re –“ Harry began rambling, tearing a little at his hair as he panicked. I wanted to call for Pomfrey – he was getting much, much too agitated.

“Harry –“ Hermione tried to interject.

“I’m toxic, I’m going to hurt you again, and I won’t be able to – to stop it – and I don’t _want_ to, because I _love_ you, but I can’t help it, I’m so terrified of losing people – and I’m losing you right now – I lose everyone – I’m self destructive – I’m going to die in this war and it probably will be because I’m reckless – you deserve someone better – better than me – you deserve better than me – you deserve the world – I fucked up – I’m sorry Hermione – I’m sorry you fell in love with me – I’m so sorry – I’m worthless –“ Harry rambled.

“Harry!” Hermione shouted. He shut up again and looked at her, sniffling again and pursing his lips together as tightly as he could to get himself to stop rambling.

“Would you just – just –“ Hermione stammered.

“What?” Harry asked quietly.

Hermione let out a loud, angry grunt of frustration, and before any of us knew what was happening, she bounded forward and grabbed his face in her hands. She then pulled him in for a long kiss, one that felt much too private for me to be witnessing. My eyes widened in shock as I saw the proceedings, my mouth dropping open with similar emotions. Harry made a small sound that sounded much too intimate for me to be hearing, and he weakly wrapped his arms around her, and pulled her onto the bed without thinking, probably. She took it in stride, though, and now the two were definitely just. Full on snogging. In the Hospital wing. When Harry was injured. Her on top of him. Basically straddling him. In. The. Hospital. Wing.

“I’d celebrate right now but I’m slightly disgusted,” Neville whispered.

“I think this is how _we_ make others feel,” I responded quietly.

“Fair,” Neville nodded.

Harry and Hermione broke apart from each other, and Harry was laughing weakly and so was she, and he pulled her in for another kiss that she happily returned, both making happy intimate sounds that I _really did not need to hear_.

“Should we, er, come back later?” Neville offered.

They pulled back from each other and both were laughing weakly still. Hermione was pressing her forehead to Harry’s, and both had their eyes closed, their noses touching. She nodded, not even turning to face us.

“Alright then,” Neville nodded, and we left the wing quickly, reaching the outside and turning to each other.

“Party?” I asked, grinning.

“What do you mean?” Neville laughed.

“The evil is defeated! The chaos is over! Dance!” I laughed, pulling on his arm and dancing in the hallway with him. He laughed eagerly and joined in, as happy as I was.

“We never have to hear about them pining after each other again!” Neville cheered.

“Oh don’t say that – you’re jinxing it!” I laughed, but I was too happy to dwell on that, pulling him in for a long kiss in the hallway. Neville eagerly wrapped his arms around me and squeezed me as tightly as possible.

“Oh I’m so happy for her – she really really deserves this,” Neville breathed.

“It’s not going to be easy for either of them, though,” I bemoaned, “Harry really hasn’t improved much.”

“They can do it,” Neville nodded firmly, “She knows what she’s getting into and Harry is getting into a groove with Dr. Wilson.”

“Indeed,” I agreed, pulling him in for another loving kiss.

“I’m so happy our family is back together,” I explained against his lips, smiling lovingly at him.

“Same,” he nodded rapidly, holding as tightly to me as he could.

“Oh I’m just so glad. I’m just so glad this is over. I’m so glad our family is back together and we don’t have to relay between them anymore and I’m glad that they’re happy and that they’re snogging and god knows what else right now and I’m just _so freaking happy_ , Nev!” I laughed, pulling him down to me for a long and passionate kiss. He squeaked in surprise, grinning against my lips.

“I’m also happy, really, but you’re absolutely adorable right now,” he laughed.

“What?” I demanded teasingly, my face breaking out into a wide smile.

“Just – I’m happy you’re happy. And I’m happy too, but who knows what them being together romantically will mean,” Neville chortled.

“It means we can be a family again – yeah they’ll want time to themselves for a while, and I won’t stop them, but eventually – eventually we can all hang out again, unlike the past three weeks from _hell_ ,” I insisted.

“Fair point,” Neville agreed. We both looked at the Hospital Wing door.

“Do you think they’re done yet?” I asked softly.

“Remember how much _we_ snogged our first day together?” Neville insisted.

“Right,” I nodded, “Well McGonagall has been taking care of the Flock this whole time… let’s go relieve her of that task and come back tomorrow?”

“Sounds good,” Neville laughed, kissing me on the forehead again. I skipped down the corridor – it didn’t matter that we still had these stupid badges on our arms, or that the war was waging about our heads, or that everything was _literally_ going to shit – all that mattered was that this terrible thing was _finally_ over.

I slept more soundly in our bed than I had in ages, and waking up and going back to the Hospital Wing I was just absolutely giddy –

“Please don’t be too disappointed if they agreed to not do anything, Mags,” Neville sighed.

“Yeah,” I sighed, forcing myself to come down some. After all, I didn’t want to be disappointed. I just wanted to be glad that we could all agree to get along again.

We entered the Wing and Hermione was still there – good sign – and was lying on Harry’s bed next to him – also good sign – and his arm was wrapped tightly around her – great sign.

“Hello,” I greeted, smiling at both of them happily.

“Hi Mags,” Harry laughed weakly before coughing a little. Hermione immediately reached for a bowl, into which Harry coughed up some rather brown looking blood.

“Just getting out all the blood still left in my lungs, don’t worry,” he reassured softly.

“It’s going to be a long recovery,” Hermione lamented.

“Still, Pomfrey is confident I’ll be okay,” Harry nodded.

“How’d you both sleep?” Hermione asked.

“Good,” I smiled.

“It was nice to be in a full sized bed again,” Neville agreed.

“That’s good,” Harry nodded. We all stared at each other in poignant silence. Harry and Hermione just grinned at us expectantly.

“Well?!” Neville and I finally demanded in unison. Hermione and Harry both burst out into laughter, and I had trouble restraining myself from flicking them or even whacking them in the head.

“Yes we’re a couple,” Hermione finally managed to gasp out, and Harry held her by the shoulder even tighter.

“We had a lot to discuss last night,” Harry murmured softly.

“What I had gone through, what _he_ had gone through – our various mental health difficulties and what they would mean – our fears and obligations for this war – “ Hermione rambled.

“But we knew after these three weeks that not being together was much worse than anything bad that could come from being together,” Harry nodded.

“Oh thank god,” I breathed.

“So – you talked all night?” Neville asked.

“Most of the night,” Harry grinned.

“After that we cuddled a lot,” Hermione said matter-of-factly.

“Cuddled,” I raised an eyebrow.

“So _that’s_ what the kids are calling it these days,” Neville laughed.

“Yes, we also snogged,” Harry rolled his eyes.

“I enjoy snogging, and Harry enjoys snogging, ergo…” Hermione giggled.

“Wow you two are adorable,” Neville snorted.

“And completely different from your very recent angst-filled selves,” I rolled my eyes.

“Well what do you expect?” Hermione laughed.

“We’re finally not being stupid, as you would put it,” Harry pressed his nose into Hermione’s face, his eyes closing and a large smile spreading across his own face.

“Yes, and I’m very happy, it’s just a jarringly rapid transition,” I smirked, sitting on the foot of the bed and rolling my eyes. Neville quickly joined me, wrapping his arms around my shoulder and waist.

“So we can stop all avoiding each other then?” Neville laughed.

“Yes,” Hermione sighed, “I’m really sorry you guys had to deal with that.”

“Thank you for being so patient,” Harry agreed.

“You both are going through a _lot_ ,” Neville reassured, “It’s perfectly understandable.”

“We’re just glad it’s also over – not the going through a lot but the not talking thing,” I furthered.

“Definitely,” Hermione agreed, “And things will be better – I always – whenever we hung out there was a noticeable hole, without Harry.”

“Same, but without Hermione,” Harry nodded. Hermione kissed his forehead and he smiled widely, resting his head on her shoulder and nuzzling against it.

“Oh god, this is what we’re like isn’t it,” Neville groaned.

“Yup,” Harry nodded.

“Get used to it,” Hermione giggled.

“This is fair,” I sighed.

“I remember when life was simpler…” Neville bemoaned.

“Oh come off it!” Harry snorted, “The first time I saw you two snogging I was traumatized for life –“

“You’re both quite… shall we say… er….” Hermione paused.

“You are two very horny teenagers. Very horny. Disturbingly horny. Like I am a sexual person but holy crap, you two, calm the bloody hell down,” Harry finished for her. I stuck my tongue out at him in amusement.

“I can’t help it,” Neville grinned.

“That grin is not helping the situation either!” Hermione shouted.

I started giggling uncontrollably and Neville wiggled his eyebrows happily at me.

“At any rate,” Harry rolled his eyes, “Yes, we’re a couple, and yes, we can be a family again, and yes, the horrors are done.”

“Yay!” Neville and I cheered together.

“So how long till you get out of here?” I asked him, now more serious.

“Not for a while,” Harry sighed, “Mind staying here to hang out?”

“Not at all,” we agreed, and we spent the rest of the day playing simple card games on the bed, Hermione and Harry constantly snuggling and occasionally kissing, and even though it was a sight I didn’t necessarily want in my life, I was still glad I was seeing it.

Frankly, I didn’t think there’d ever be a time when seeing them happy and together would _not_ make me happy.

‘It was the best thing that had happened since Neville and I had first kissed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOOOOOOOOOOO HARMONY AT LAST! LET'S ALL CELEBRATE AND COMMENT! WOOOOOOOOOOOO! But seriously comment on both of the last chapters, thanks xD


	112. Chapter One Hundred and Eleven: December 2 - 5, 1996, Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "If home is where the heart is   
> then we're all just fucked   
> I can't remember   
> I can't remember   
> And I want it so bad   
> I'd shoot the sunshine into my veins   
> I can't remember   
> The good old days 
> 
> And it's kind of funny   
> The way we're wearing anchors on our shirts   
> When being anchored or bored   
> just feels like a curse 
> 
> My mind is a safe   
> And if I keep it in we all get rich   
> My body is an orphanage   
> We take everyone in   
> Doing lines of dust and sweat   
> off last night's stage   
> Just to feel like you 
> 
> Milligrams in my head   
> Burning tobacco in my wind   
> chasing the direction   
> Chasing the direction you went   
> You're a bottled star   
> The planets align   
> You're just like Mars   
> You shine in the sky   
> You shine in the sky."   
> ~ Fall Out Boy, "27"

Chapter 111: December 2 – 5, 1996, Hogwarts

It would be a while before Harry would leave the Hospital Wing. His inner organs had all basically ruptured, and his lungs were caked with blood on the inside.

“It’s okay,” he grinned cheekily, “I could use some time off.”

Hermione being back in his life – especially as his girlfriend – had done wonders for his mental health. He would still have major freakouts, however overall he was much improved from before, which was good enough for all of us.

Constantly on the verge of a major breakdown was _so_ much worse than about half the time on the verge of a mental breakdown.

“How are you handling it?” Neville asked softly as we sat by Harry’s bed a few days after he woke up, him sleeping off the pain and effects of Pomfrey’s medicine.

“I’m doing okay,” Hermione reassured, still sitting on Harry’s bed, stroking his hair lovingly with the tips of her fingertips.

“It’s just – you know – when I took care of Mags –“

“You weren’t a couple yet, I know,” Hermione nodded, “But this is a bit different I think…”

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“Harry isn’t… he’s very bad, but part of that was due to thinking that he had lost me in his life at all forever,” Hermione shrugged, “I mean, it’s BPD, right? So he’s going to be constantly afraid of pushing people away.”

“Fair point,” Neville nodded.

“So just having me _talk_ to him again set him forwards leaps and bounds,” Hermione shrugged, “And honestly… being able to talk to him has set _me_ forward leaps and bounds.”

“I’m glad,” I frowned, looking down at the badge on my arm, “How are you doing anyway?”

“I have wanted to be with Harry my entire life. Even if – even if my life isn’t much longer, at least – yeah,” Hermione whispered.

“Mione…” I sighed.

“I know, I know. I’m going – I’m going to be okay,” Hermione took a deep breath.

“I mean, there’ve been riots in the street against Backlash people, so there’s that,” Neville rolled his eyes and shrugged.

“What now?” Hermione demanded in shock.

“You really haven’t been outside of the Hospital Wing, have you?” Neville asked, grinning teasingly.

“Er… no,” Hermione admitted sheepishly.

“Hermione!” I laughed in amazement.

“Oh just tell me already,” Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Basically no one is happy about the badges – only the Backlash, and even then there’s general unrest for people who have been outed for not being the Ministry’s idea of perfect. So rebellion people are fighting back against the backlash wherever they turn up and it’s been nuts,” Neville explained.

“There have been riots throughout the country and everything’s basically up in flames,” I said cheerfully.

“How is this _good news?!_ ” Hermione practically shrieked.

“Because it means the Ministry is losing authority,” Neville shrugged.

“Literally no one is happy. The _Daily Prophet_ has even started publishing editorials criticizing the government, even though usually the Ministry has a tight lid on them,” I grinned.

“You’re _kidding!_ ” Hermione basically screeched. Harry started to stir and she groaned softly.

“Shit – Harry – I’m sorry – please go back to bed,” she murmured soothing.

“Wha –“ Harry grunted, his eyes blinking open as he looked around the room, “What’s going on?”

“Nothing, love, go back to bed,” Hermione whispered.

“Oh no you don’t – you’re not going to use your cuteness to quell my curiosity,” Harry grunted. Hermione just pulled his face into her hands and kissed him again, making him make one of those sounds that though I was now familiar with, that didn’t make me any less uncomfortable. He didn’t seem able to help it whenever she kissed him.

“Ahem,” Neville coughed in amusement. Hermione slowly pulled back from the kiss, her lips visibly peeling away from Harry’s, as Harry’s eyes remained close and a happy grin remain plastered on his face.

“Are you quite done yet,” Neville rolled his eyes.

“You’re one to talk,” Hermione muttered.

“Harry has a right to know, Hermione,” I sighed.

“But he’s still not recovered, we should wait –“

“Tell me,” Harry demanded, pulled from his lovestruck reverie to look at us intently.

“The Ministry is crumbling,” I grinned.

“You’re kidding, they just –“

“Yeah, well, the Rebellion is pissed and is attacking the Backlash whole-hog. It’s basically a civil war,” Neville sighed.

“Fuck,” Harry groaned.

“The Daily Prophet is even pissed,” I explained, “All the fighting and unrest – plus the badges – they’re actually publishing pieces against the Ministry, meaning that there government has no control over anything right now.”

“This is probably not as good as it seems,” Harry muttered.

“No,” I agreed, “But it’s better than them gaining _more_ power.”

“Remember what that one Ravenclaw said? Back at the beginning of term?” Hermione responded, “We can’t let there be a power vacuum.”

“So what do we do?” Neville asked nervously.

“We… try to put our own people in there?” I answered halfheartedly.

“Yeah that’ll _totally_ work,” Harry sighed.

We all stared at each other for a while, our faces equal expressions of dread.

“Well at least the current Ministry will be gone,” I suggested.

“Yeah, and something more terrible will take its place. But we’ll try and stop that,” Hermione frowned.

“They wouldn’t be in this position if they had actually tried to change?” Neville offered.

“This is correct,” Hermione sighed.

“What has everyone been doing? Saying? Have there been rallies?” Harry asked tiredly.

“Mainly the rallies have been about how we need to put up our own government,” I explained, “We can’t let the Backlash take over and everyone knows that.”

“How has that been working?” Harry grunted.

“No idea,” Hermione sighed.

“Everything’s been rather chaotic, and we’ve all been… well, with you,” I admitted.

“Come off it guys –“

“We haven’t been a family in ages, don’t make us leave,” Neville muttered.

“Fair point,” Harry sighed, “How has the trans clinic thing been going?”

“Ron and Luna have begun the initial stages of setting them up, with Ernie’s inheritance broadening their scope immensely,” Hermione nodded.

“Soon they should have enough volunteers from the Rebellion to start staffing them and providing treatment,” Neville agreed.

“Oh good,” Harry smiled weakly, “I was worried that things would have broken down after the last attack.”

“It was brutal,” I lamented.

“Luckily no one died!” Harry offered.

“Harry,” Neville rolled his eyes.

“You literally fell to the ground coughing up a river of blood,” I furthered.

“We all were _convinced_ you’d died,” Hermione choked out, tears flowing freely from her eyes. Harry weakly wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer to him and soothing softly.

“Well I didn’t,” he murmured quietly into her neck.

“It sure looked like it, mate,” Neville countered.

“It crushed moral, like a giant or just a huge animal had stepped on it –“ I continued.

“And you still haven’t left the Hospital Wing, so it’s not like people know you’re definitely okay except us, and it’s not like we’re leaving much –“ Neville explained.

“So everyone’s thinking that you’re close to death, or are dead and we’re keeping up appearances, that sort of thing – the farther you get away from the castle, the worse the rumors and suspicion get,” I shrugged.

“Fantastic,” Harry grunted, immediately shifting as though to get up, “Well I suppose it’s time to leave –“

“No, Harry, you’re still recovering, you can’t,” Hermione shook her head rapidly, gently pushing him back down to the bed.

“I have to get up and walk around! I have to show people I’m alright!” Harry protested, struggling against her – the strongest of us, he was so weak he couldn’t lift _Hermione_.

_Hermione was practically an elf._

“Harry come on,” Neville groaned.

“Please try and conserve your strength,” I rolled my eyes.

Harry grunted and laid back again, folding his arms (weakly) across his chest in annoyance. Hermione kissed him lovingly on the forehead, and he visibly relaxed.

“How have people been reacting to the badges?” Harry asked tiredly.

“General uproar and fury,” I nodded.

“Everyone’s been angry – even Backlash people, though they generally still pretend to approve. They don’t like that they are easily identified now,” Neville grinned.

“It’s backfiring on them all around,” I chuckled.

“Still have the badges, though,” Hermione mumbled. Harry soothed her softly, rubbing his hands up and down her arms as she nestled deeply into his.

“Very few people approving of them is a good thing at least,” Neville offered.

“It is,” Hermione mumbled.

“Let’s not dwell on it anymore,” Harry declared, “Anything else new?”

“Not really,” I shrugged.

“Increased security detail of Order members,” Neville reminded.

“Ah, yes – there are more Order folk here in case they attack again,” I explained.

“Probably a good thing,” Harry agreed.

“In class, let’s see – we’ve been learning Aguamenti in Charms which seems redundant after learning elementalism –“ Hermione began.

“Oh bloody hell,” Harry groaned, covering his face in his hands.

“In Defense we’ve been covering the Imperius curse again, so nothing new there,” I shrugged.

“Come off it guys – “

“In transfiguration, we’ve been learning how to cast simultaneous transfigurations – so like, turning two mice into water goblets at once instead of one, and for _once_ this isn’t something Maggie already knew how to do –“

“Why would I have _ever_ needed to know that in my research?!”

“I dunno, turning an army of ravens into _Velociraptor_ in a single second –“

“Well _now_ I know how to do it!”

“In _Herbology_ ,” Hermione interrupted, rolling her eyes, “We’ve been cultivating Venomous Tentacula –“

“Hermione, please, I nearly died, I should be getting kisses, not homework –“

“Gross,” I muttered.

“Maggie how many times have I had to witness _you_ –“

“I’m a hypocrite, I’m aware –“

“And in Potions we’ve been working on our Amortentia,” Hermione continued, “And Slughorn’s been asking after you –“

“That’s… good, probably…”

“What’s Amortentia?” I asked curiously.

“The most powerful love potion in the world,” Hermione rolled her eyes.

“It basically puts you in an enraptured stupor,” Harry nodded.

“Are you actually studying potions, mate?” Neville asked, laughing.

“Again, I want to get that _bloody memory_ from the slug, I have to,” he grunted.

“Why are you making Amortentia? Sounds illegal at Hogwarts,” I shrugged.

“And basically a raping drug,” Neville sighed.

“It basically is, but it’s on the NEWT curriculum,” Hermione explained.

“Have to be able to make it when we sit our exams,” Harry nodded.

“That sounds fucked up,” I snorted.

“There have been _more_ fucked up things in our lives,” Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Fair point,” Neville acknowledged.

“And that’s everything – so you’re doing okay in terms of not falling terribly behind,” Hermione nodded.

“Well that’s good – I should go to class – I gotta suck up to the slug –“ Harry muttered, trying to get up again, but Hermione gently held him down.

“Come _on_ Hermione!” Harry begged.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t,” Hermione sighed, “Pomfrey means it, you _have_ to stay and get well –“

“Bullocks! They need me!” Harry shouted.

“Harry, your BPD is getting in the way of _reason_ ,” I muttered.

“Everyone will understand if you take care of yourself,” Neville agreed.

“No one is going to abandon the rebellion because you took a couple days off to get well,” Hermione murmured soothingly.

Harry swallowed heavily, but nodded. Hermione kissed him softly and held him in her arms, gently soothing him by massaging the hair on his forehead.

“It’s going to be alright, Harry,” she murmured softly, “You’ll be well enough to leave soon enough.”

Harry nodded, but he didn’t look very convinced by her words.

“We should really start letting in other people to see him,” I lamented to Hermione as we headed to Herbology the next day.

“I know,” Hermione agreed sadly, “I’m just – I’m scared. No one can hurt him right now, he won’t survive it –“

“There’s plenty of security all over the castle,” I reassured, “He’ll be fine – we have to let in people that aren’t Elena and Claire – spread rumors that he’s fine once and for all.”

“But –“

“It’ll make _him_ feel better too,” I reminded. Hermione sighed and nodded, running a hand through her hair, which was extra frizzy today.

“What’s wrong?” I asked immediately. She looked up at me rapidly.

“Nothing,” she responded immediately.

“Come off it,” I rolled my eyes.

“I have some concerns with Harry’s return to the real world, that’s all,” Hermione muttered softly.

“Okay, lay them out for me,” I smirked.

“I am worried that Ginny will be upset,” Hermione stated immediately.

“She’s happy with Nadia – I significantly doubt that,” I reminded.

“I know I just – it was such a huge rift between us. I mean we had a _catfight_ ,” Hermione shook her head sadly, “I don’t want to ruin our friendship any further –“

“Seriously, I think she’ll be fine. She knows that you two love each other already, you being together just means the awkward social situations are finally over which is a good thing,” I insisted.

“Yes but – Ginny and I haven’t really – I mean we’ve _talked_ but she hasn’t brought it up,” Hermione stammered, “The love thing, I mean.”

“Then you should go talk to her,” I offered, “Explain what’s happened since Harry woke up and you wanted her to hear it from you before she saw you two snogging or even just holding hands or whatever –“

“Yeah, I know, I’m just – not looking forward to it, if it goes bad,” Hermione sighed.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” I paused, “Other concerns?”

“I… erm…” Hermione blushed furiously.

“What?” I laughed.

“I – well you’ll of all people understand this, I’m just – embarrassed,” Hermione continued blushing.

“Alright Granger, you have to tell me,” I rolled my eyes.

“I like sleeping next to him, alright?” Hermione sighed, “It’s comforting, it makes me feel safe – which I really, _really_ need right now –“

She absent-mindedly clawed at her badge again.

“Ah,” I nodded, “Okay, I get that.”

“We don’t have a room like you two do –“

“Talk to McGonagall?”

“I doubt she considers herself to be in the business of giving her students love nests –“

“Yeah but you guys aren’t doing anything sexual yet are you?” I offered, “Nev and I weren’t when we started –“

“No, but we _are_ a couple, and – I mean – we enjoy snogging a lot,” Hermione blushed furiously.

“I have noticed that you enjoy a good snog,” I rolled my eyes.

“I can’t help it – it’s an expression of intimacy that isn’t too sexualized, everything about it is perfect –“ Hermione mumbled.

“I’m not teasing you, calm down,” I snorted.

“At any rate, yes, I feel much safer sleeping next to him, but I doubt that McGonagall will do the thing again – it’s not like I’m homeless on the streets, or was raped, or –“ Hermione rambled.

“It’s still important for you – talk to her about how the badges have made you feel and how scared you’ve been?” I offered.

“I – maybe, yeah,” Hermione sighed, “I just – I don’t want him to leave the Hospital Wing since there I can just sleep next to him…”

“He needs to come out at _some_ point Hermione,” I sighed.

“I know,” Hermione mumbled sadly.

“Alternatively, you could sleep in the boy’s dormitory,” I grinned.

“Oh Merlin – can you imagine the horror –“ Hermione groaned.

“Well that _would_ be your other option,” I giggled.

“I’ll talk to McGonagall,” Hermione sighed, “Soon he’ll be coming out and I won’t be able to do anything about it.”

“You both could sleep in the Room of Requirement?” I offered, “Until you talk to McGonagall and everything.”

“That’s… not a terrible idea,” Hermione nodded, “I just – what if someone comes in?”

“Make it so no one can,” I shrugged, “This is the Room of Requirement we’re talking about.”

“True…” Hermione frowned, “I’ll talk to Harry about it.”

“I’m sure he’ll be happy to do it,” I grinned.

Hermione flushed madly, “What if he isn’t?”

“Then he’s nervous or scared or whatever – I mean – he’s happy sleeping next to you now, right?” I asked slyly.

“I – yes – he loves it too – but permanently living together –“ Hermione stammered.

“Don’t frame it as permanent. When he comes out suggest you start sleeping in the Room of Requirement – because you’re still scared from the badges,” I offered, “Then after that’s been working out for a while, suggest doing a permanent thing like Nev and I do –“

“And then go to McGonagall?” Hermione finished.

“Yeah,” I nodded, “If he’s still uncomfortable, _then_ talk to him about it – and he might not even be uncomfortable if you suggested it now –“

“Yeah, that seems like a good idea. Thank you,” Hermione blushed furiously.

“Are… _you_ uncomfortable?” I laughed.

“N – No!” Hermione squeaked.

“Hermione –“

“It’s a big step and we just got together, but we’re not a normal couple, are we?” Hermione offered.

“No,” I laughed, “No you are not.”

“Did you ever think we’d _actually_ get here?” Hermione asked softly as we finally reached Herbology class.

“I did – I always thought you two would get together, I really and truly did,” I reassured.

Hermione smiled weakly at me, “Really?”

“Yeah, of course – you’re really good together as friends, when you’re not both being jealous asshats –“ I grinned at her and she rolled her eyes.

“And you care about each other a lot. I didn’t really think that anyone else could make either of you as happy as you could make each other,” I shrugged, “At least, when I got older I thought that. Obviously I didn’t have these thoughts like, second year.”

“Yeah,” Hermione flushed, but smiled at me, “Thanks.”

“Of course – I was always rooting for you. No offense to Gin,” I shrugged. Hermione smiled wider and hugged me around my shoulders.

“Woman!” I laughed.

“What? I have a lot of insecurities,” Hermione mumbled, making me laugh.

Neville joined us in the classroom then, kissing my forehead and staring down at the plants, looking troubled. He ran a hand through his hair and frowned more. His hand was even visibly shaking, making me sick with worry.

“What’s wrong Nev?” I asked softly, reaching up for his shoulder and massaging it gently. He smiled down at me lovingly, clearly trying to calm me down, but the pain in his eyes ruined the effect.

“I just – Dr. Wilson was my therapist today,” Neville explained, running a hand through his hair again.

“Where’s Shae?” Hermione asked worriedly.

“I don’t know – I need to find out,” Neville frowned, “Dr. Wilson just said Shae was unavailable and she was covering her shifts…”

“That’s not good,” I pursed my lips together tightly.

“No – no it’s not,” Neville agreed.

“We’ll investigate after class,” I offered. Neville nodded, us turning to the Tentacula to grapple with it together.

Luckily, there were Order members on duty – well, there were always Order members on duty. We ran to Tonks, who was standing in front of the castle, chewing a piece of gum and staring out into the forest. Lupin was with her, looking disgusted with a piece of gum she doubtlessly had lent him.

“Hello you three – how are things?” Tonks asked cheerfully. Her hair was bright blue today, sticking up in a Mohawk.

“Oh fine –“ I began.

“How is Harry recovering?” Lupin asked, finally spitting out his gum.

“He’s doing well, thanks,” Hermione flushed. Tonks grinned at her cheekily.

“Just well, you say?” she laughed.

“Oh please –“ Hermione begged.

“Nah I think I’m going to tease you more,” Tonks laughed.

“ _Tonks please_ ,” Lupin groaned.

“You have no fun Remus,” Tonks grinned, sticking her tongue out at him. Lupin rolled his eyes.

“What’s up, you three?” Lupin asked.

“Why is Shae gone?” Neville asked, running a hand through his hair nervously – I could see it shaking and I quickly reached out to hold his arm tightly in worry, “I just – I had therapy today and Dr. Wilson was there instead of Shae and it’s hard to – to get the right rapport with a new person and – yeah –“

“Oh dear, we should have warned you kids –“ Lupin sighed.

“It was very last minute, don’t beat yourself up Remus,” Tonks reassured.

“What’s happening? Is there something wrong?” Hermione asked nervously.

“Well… er…” Tonks stammered.

“Not – _wrong_ – exactly –“ Lupin frowned.

“Oh come off it – there is _definitely_ something wrong – basically – as you’ve noted, there have been… a strangely large number of giants attacking us,” Tonks continued.

“Yes,” Hermione frowned.

“It’s been weird,” Neville agreed.

“Well we have reason to believe that they found another giant population in Siberia,” Lupin sighed.

“They’ve been using the giants they know from the Alps but so liberally we had suspicions they had found another colony,” Tonks continued.

“Well at the end of the month there were giant attacks in the North – near the Orkney Islands,” Lupin explained.

“ _Lots_ of them – and there’s no where they could really hide out in Scandinavia so we’re pretty sure they’re from Siberia,” Tonks scowled.

“How’d they even _get_ here?” Hermione shrieked.

“Giants are resilient. Frankly I wouldn’t be surprised if they had swum,” Lupin sighed.

“So they have swum up to the north and well – there are a lot of them,” Tonks sighed.

“A _lot_ of them,” Lupin agreed.

“Basically all Dragons, Halflings, Riders – you name it – had to go up there to fight them. They’re still there now and this will probably be a persistent condition,” Tonks continued.

“We have no idea how many giants are in Siberia or how many are coming over, but for now they need all hands on deck –“

“Should I be up there?” I immediately offered, my eyes widening in fear.

“No,” Tonks and Lupin answered in unison.

“It’s far too dangerous –“

“I’m not a child anymore, I haven’t been since I was fourteen,” I muttered angrily, “If they need me to help they need me to help, so do they?”

“They do not,” Lupin said sternly.

“Look, Maggie, I understand, but you need to stay here where it’s safe,” Tonks sighed.

“You’re a student. That means you are still a child,” Lupin said firmly.

“Right,” I rolled my eyes, walking back into the castle without another word.

“Where are you going?” Neville asked worriedly.

“Going to write to Shae and ask her directly if they need me up there,” I grunted furiously, stomping towards our room.

“She’s going to say the same thing –“ Hermione mumbled.

“So? I have to try,” I hissed.

“I don’t –“ Neville whispered, looking terrified, “I don’t know if –“

“They’re not going to let me so you don’t have to worry about it,” I sighed. Neville wrapped his arms tightly around me and squeezed quite hard as I grabbed parchment and a pen in our room, Hermione standing by the door and frowning, her arms crossed over her chest.

“And what will you do if they call you up there immediately?” Hermione asked.

“I’ll go,” I said immediately. Neville held me tighter.

“I don’t want you to go,” he whispered.

“I know,” I murmured, “I’m sorry, but –“

“I know,” he repeated, and he sat at the foot of the bed, sobbing horrifically into his hands. I immediately sat next to him and wrapped my arms tightly around his wait, kissing him softly on the arm and murmuring lovingly into his skin.

“It’ll be okay, it’ll be okay, it’ll be okay,” I whispered.

“We’ll just have to come with,” Hermione offered.

“You’ll get crushed,” I frowned.

“You forget we’re all masters of elements,” Hermione grinned. Neville looked up from his hands and down at me desperately.

“Fine, you can come,” I nodded. Neville beamed at me through his tears and kissed me passionately, making Hermione cough uncomfortably.

“Sorry just – seeing you, knowing what’s happening with you – it would make me actually be able to bear it,” Neville mumbled as he slowly pulled away from me.

“I completely understand,” I nodded, “And I know things are difficult to process when you haven’t had a good therapy session –“

“Everything feels like the end of the world right now,” Neville mumbled.

“Oh love,” I sighed soflty, not even caring that Hermione was there, kissing him on his lips reassuringly, “I know, I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too,” Hermione interjected awkwardly.

“Thanks guys,” Neville sighed, “I’ll be okay after a while – and knowing I can come too –“

“Don’t worry, I won’t stop you,” I agreed, staring at the finished letter in my hands, “I have to mail this to Shae, come on –“

I hadn’t been to the Owlery in ages. Usually Darwin would just fly down at breakfast, get affection from me and food from the table, and fly back. We wandered up the steps into the tall tower, heading together to where Darwin was usually perched.

He hooted at me in shock – again, I was never up there, not since my parents had died.

“Hey,” I smiled weakly at him, giving him scritchles in embarrassment, “I actually have a letter for you!”

Neville was greeting Hedwig, who hooted in disgruntlement – Harry hadn’t been up there in weeks after all.

“Hey, I know, but he’s hurt, it’s not his fault,” Neville rolled his eyes. Darwin took my letter and soared out of the window, wings flapping against the cloudy sky. Hedwig kept hooting in annoyance.

“I think we should tell him to come up here right away,” Neville rolled his eyes.

“Yeah… we should really let him go out soon,” Hermione sighed.

“We?” I laughed

“Let?” Neville snorted.

“Er – ask Pomfrey, then,” Hermione clarified, blushing horrifically.

“Yes,” Neville responded, frowning at her with suspicion.

“What?” Hermione asked defensively.

“What have you been up to?” Neville asked, raising both of his eyebrows at her.

Hermione opened her mouth and closed it a few times, blushing furiously as I smirked at her stammering. She was in _trouble_. Neville reached out and flicked her in amusement as the door to the Owlery opened, Sam and Ernie walking in together and holding hands. I turned to greet them as Sam grabbed Ernie and pressed him against one of the owl-free walls fairly violently, snogging with him rather ridiculously.

“OI!” the three of us shouted in unison.

“Oh bloody hell I’m going to be sick,” Hermione groaned.

“What the fuck?” Neville demanded, laughing.

“What happened to the Room of Requirement? Or bloody _broom closets?!_ ” I demanded.

Sam broke back from Ernie with a squeak, his face coloring rapidly. Ernie was already as red as his hair.

“Er –“ Ernie stammered, looking both flustered and embarrassed.

“Nadia and Ginny are in the Room of Requirement,” Sam began, his voice very high pitched, “And usually there’s no one in here –“

“Broom closets are too cramped,” Ernie managed to stammer out.

“Amazing,” Neville groaned, covering his face in his hands.

“We officially lost, Neville,” I nodded.

“Lost – what now?” Neville looked up and at me in confusion.

“You’ve lost the gross competition,” Hermione sighed.

“This won. This – this objectively wins,” I grimaced, sticking my tongue out.

“Oi!” Sam shouted.

“We didn’t know you were here!” Ernie begged.

“Doesn’t matter, this is ridiculous,” Hermione rolled her eyes.

“I don’t know, Mags, we _did_ get caught by Pomfrey –“ Neville reminded.

“Oh god I blocked that from my memory,” I groaned, holding my face in my hands.

“And I did walk in on you two _naked_ ,” Hermione murmured thoughtfully.

“We’re safe!” Ernie cheered.

“Not for long, you’ve only been going out for a little while and if you’re already _roughly snogging in public places…_ ” I grinned.

“You both have to be careful or someone’s going to catch you shagging,” Neville chortled.

“Thanks for that,” Ernie groaned as Sam flipped the bird at us, sending Neville roaring with laughter.

“On that lovely note, we’re going to _go_ ,” Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Have fun,” I winked, making Sam flick me off again.

“You killed the mood, so –“ Ernie groaned.

“Happy to help!” Neville cheered as he closed the door to the Owlery behind us, rolling his eyes as we started walking away.

“I had no idea that Sam was like that,” Hermione frowned.

“What? Into rough stuff?” I grinned.

“Yes,” Hermione nodded.

“We learn new and horrifying things every day, let’s wipe it from our brains since we don’t have space for it,” Neville rolled his eyes.

“Agreed,” Hermione and I sighed in unison.

The next day, then, Harry left the Hospital Wing, still quite banged up – apparently Pomfrey had wanted him to stay for longer.

“At the very least he should stay in this muggle wheelchair until his lungs are finished clearing,” she snapped as we came to take him away, glaring at all of us and Hermione in particular.

“They need to see he’s okay,” Hermione insisted quietly.

“They do – people are panicking –“ Harry managed to stammer out, coughing up dried blood into a bowl as he did so.

“Hmmph!” Pomfrey responded, before wheeling and walking into her office.

“I love pissing off adults!” I sang as I pushed Harry’s chair forward.

“You know I’m strong, right, I can –“

“You have to work on coughing up dried blood from your lungs,” I explained.

“Please Harry, take care of yourself,” Hermione murmured.

“Oh alright,” Harry sighed, Hermione reaching to hold his hand tightly as we all walked. Of course, the school was the exact opposite of handicapped-friendly, so we often had to levitate Harry down the stairs.

“This is fun,” he said sarcastically as Neville and I tried to keep him aloft without wobbling him.

“Sorry!” I sighed.

“Blame Hogwarts for shoddy construction,” Neville grunted.

“Oh trust me, I do,” Harry muttered.

“I can’t believe we have to somehow get you down to the bloody Great Hall,” Neville moaned as we finally reached another floor.

“Wait!” I screamed. They looked at me in alarm as I ran down the corridor, reaching a portrait and opening it, grinning at them.

“ _Finally_ my time with the Weasley Twins has paid off,” I laughed, “I know all the passageways, remember? And they’re all _ramps_. None of them are stairs!”

“It’s a miracle!” Harry cheered as Neville pushed him through the passageway, Hermione and I following and reaching the ground floor in no time.

“Maggie you are a bloody genius, thank you,” Harry grinned at me as we walked out into the Entrance Hall.

“No problem,” I laughed.

“It’s Harry!” Ginny screeched, running over to us and beaming, “You’re okay!”

“Yeah,” Harry laughed, coughing up dried blood into his bowl. Ginny grimaced as Nadia came running over as well, smiling at all of us.

“Oh this is good news – just the sort of news we need –“ she sighed.

“What happened _now?_ ” Neville groaned.

“Er…” Nadia frowned.

“The muggles have started reporting on things,” Ginny grimaced.

“Things?” Hermione asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” Nadia sighed, “Mainly they’ve reported disturbances in the north –“

“So like those giants coming in and the dragons fighting us like you told us,” Ginny nodded.

“And the riots in the street – they’ve reported on the badges, too,” Nadia frowned.

“How do we know?” Neville asked worriedly.

“Colin Creevey got a letter from his mum,” Ginny sighed.

“Fantastic,” Harry grunted, forcing himself away to wheel himself into the Great Hall.

“What’s… gotten into him?” Ginny asked.

“He’s frustrated that things keep going to shit. Can’t blame him,” Hermione sighed, following after him immediately.

Nadia sighed, kissed Ginny on the cheek, and went into the Great Hall.

“How are you?” I asked her softly, students now moving into the Great Hall from the dormitories as the day began.

“Good,” she grinned, “I – er – told Nadia I loved her yesterday.”

“Brilliant!” I laughed, high fiving her as Neville grinned too.

“It was kind of a big deal… I hadn’t – well – she’s the first person I’ve felt strongly about besides Harry, no offense Neville,” Ginny smiled weakly.

“Absolutely none taken,” Neville laughed.

“Sometimes I forget you dated, to be honest,” I grimaced.

“Blocking it from your mind or legitimately forgetting?” Ginny giggled.

“Both,” I admitted.

“Anyways, yeah – I was afraid I’d fuck it up but – anyway I’m going to go be with her now,” Ginny beamed, skipping off to the Great Hall.

“Well that’s adorable,” Neville laughed.

“I enjoy seeing good things happen,” I agreed.

And indeed, the next day started out wonderful as well.

“Guys!”

I looked up at breakfast, Harry eating awkwardly from his wheelchair, to see Nadia running over to the Gryffindor table. This wasn’t really new – no one cared anymore about that sort of thing – but it was still startling as Ginny wasn’t even up yet.

“What’s happening?” Neville asked tiredly, having been up the whole night working on his genetics and studying muggle genomes he had acquired extensively. I, in turn, had studied the _Tyrannosaurus_ anatomy as much as I could.

“Where’s Ginny? I want to tell her first,” Nadia begged.

“Er – asleep?” Hermione offered.

“You don’t know?” Nadia frowned.

“Er – none of us were in the Gryffindor Common Room last night,” Harry admitted sheepishly.

“What the –“

“Harry’s still in the Hospital Wing at night,” Hermione explained, “Though tonight should probably be his last night?”

“Yeah,” Harry nodded, now writing in his lap.

“What are you writing?” Hermione asked quietly, reaching for him.

“Just – something,” Harry frowned, “What’s up, Nadia?”

“I really want to tell Ginny first – Hermione why aren’t you in the Gryffindor Common Room?” Nadia asked irritably.

“Er… making sure Harry’s looked after,” Hermione admitted.

“Right,” Nadia frowned, “Are you two –“

“Yes,” Harry said softly.

“But I’d like to talk to Ginny before we went public for reasons that should be obvious, and, well, I haven’t been able to get to her alone,” Hermione sighed.

“Well, let’s go exploring to find her together, I want to tell her the news first,” Nadia nodded firmly.

“I –“ Hermione looked over at Harry, who smiled at her lovingly.

“Go, it’s alright,” Harry beamed. Hermione nodded and left with Nadia, the rest of us looking at each other in confusion.

“So what are you writing?” I asked Harry, rolling my eyes.

“Er – a letter for the Quibbler to publish, since I can’t really go out and give speeches,” Harry admitted.

“What… is the letter on?” Neville asked nervously.

“I’m questioning the value of the Statute of Secrecy,” Harry muttered, looking at us furiously.

“ ** _WHAT?!_** ” we screeched in unison.

“Keep your bloody voices down! I talked to Hermione and she agrees,” Harry hissed.

“What the fuck, Harry?” Neville whispered.

“What are you thinking?!” I agreed

“I’m thinking that this is bullshit! All of it!” Harry hissed, “Guys, think about it – think about what the muggle government would be doing if they actually could do something about the war –“

Neville frowned in acknowledgement.

“Or about these,” Harry pointed angrily to the badge on his arm.

I sighed, running my hand through my hair.

“But – they’re going to be – no one is going to go along with this,” Neville mumbled.

“Who knows. No one’s ever _suggested_ it,” Harry paused, “And I mean, think about muggle technology you guys.”

“Yeah?” I frowned.

“They’re getting better and better at surveillance – eventually someone’s going to notice and capture on – what’s that one show on the telly – America’s Funniest Home Videos? Someone is going to record their child doing something weird and then magic’s out of the bag – eventually too many people will notice it and make it public for people to ignore it anymore – and our world needs _help_ ,” Harry hissed.

“They are noticing the riots…” I paused.

“And the giants,” Neville agreed reluctantly.

“I’m not saying in my letter that we definitely should get rid of the Statute of Secrecy. Only that the things that put it in place – muggles persecuting wixen – aren’t necessarily a problem anymore, I mean the world is weirder now, and – and – and we might not be able to avoid it, and we might even need the help,” Harry explained.

“Alright mate,” Neville sighed.

“Go for it,” I nodded, pursing my lips together tightly.

Harry finished writing his letter and gave it to Hedwig, who happily nipped at his finger in an affectionate way before taking off. Harry watched her go with apprehension and satisfaction written on every inch of his face.

“I don’t care if I’m making a mistake. Someone had to say something,” he murmured after a while.

“Yeah,” I agreed.

“When do you think Hermione will get back?” he asked, looking at the door to the hall in worry.

“That lovesick, huh?” Neville grinned.

“Oh shove off, you’re worse than I am –“

“I’m not denying it!”

“She should be back soon, they’re just looking for Ginny,” I reassured, “Don’t worry bro.”

“Thanks,” Harry sighed, “She just… makes me calm.”

“Awww,” Neville teased.

“I will punch you in the crotch –“

“Why the crotch?!”

“I can’t reach your face!”

“Oh dear, what are you arguing about?” Hermione sighed, walking up to us. Ginny and Nadia were behind her, and all three had huge grins on their faces.

“What’s happening?” Harry asked, his eyes widening.

“Oh just –“ Hermione began.

“First, before we get to the good news, I will say on record that I’m _really_ happy for you two,” Ginny beamed.

“Oh? Oh thank Merlin,” Harry gasped.

“Of course! We broke up because I realized I couldn’t handle being your girlfriend, Harry, and honestly Hermione can,” Ginny shrugged.

“It’s a role I’m well suited for, in fact,” Hermione flushed.

“You are,” Harry murmured, reaching for her and squeezing her hand lovingly.

“And I’ve moved on anyway,” Ginny beamed, leaning in and kissing Nadia, who flushed madly.

“I totally win, Potter,” Nadia grinned at Harry, who grinned back.

“Agree to disagree, which I suppose means everyone wins,” Harry laughed.

“At any rate, guess what!” Ginny laughed.

“Yes, _please_ enlighten us,” I rolled my eyes.

“I told my parents about how Ginny and I told each other we love each other, because I figured they ought to know,” Nadia beamed.

“And her parents want to talk again! They want to reconcile!” Ginny squealed.

“YOU’RE KIDDING!” Harry, Neville, and I cheered.

“Nope!” Ginny beamed.

“Apparently they’d been thinking of contacting me since Hogwarts started… well, getting attacked all the bloody time,” Nadia rolled her eyes, “That plus the rebellion – they still love me and everything, they wanted to make sure I was okay. But my dad was still stubborn about the whole I-am-bisexual bit. But apparently us being in love reinforced how serious we are – how we’re not kidding, or in it for the debauchery, or what have you – at any rate in the current war climate my dad agreed that he would rather be in touch with me, especially since he _does_ think that love can’t be sinful – so –“

“Nadia and I are going to meet her parents this weekend! I’m absolutely terrified,” Ginny’s eyes widened at the thought.

 “It’s still not _normal_ , of course,” Nadia frowned, “I mean, usually I’d meet a nice Muslim boy and our parents would marry us straightaway. But they knew sending me to Hogwarts that my life wouldn’t be traditional anyway.”

“Oh I’m so happy for you,” I beamed, getting up and hugging them both.

“Really and truly – this is wonderful news,” Neville agreed.

“We should celebrate!” Harry cheered, before coughing up dried blood into his bowl.

“How about _after_ you recover,” Ginny rolled her eyes.

“Fair point,” Harry nodded.

“Well Maggie and I should go to Spellweaving –“ Hermione interjected.

“I got him, no worries. I should work on genetics anyway,” Neville reassured.

“Thanks,” Hermione breathed. I gently kissed Neville goodbye as Hermione did the same with Harry, Nadia and Ginny having already left to go celebrate, no doubt.

Sam and Ernie blushed almost immediately upon seeing us, making the two of us laugh in unison.

“We are never speaking of what you saw!” Sam insisted.

“Don’t worry about it,” Hermione laughed.

“Are you kidding, Mione? This is perfect blackmail!” I giggled.

“You _wouldn’t_ ,” Ernie groaned.

“Oh I totally would,” I beamed.

“I’m doomed,” Ernie sighed.

“Same,” Sam nodded. McGonagall walked in then, though, and we all quickly dropped it. Malfoy followed her, skulking and sitting in a corner of the room far away from us.

“Today you all will finish up inventing your first spells. I will be going about the room to help you with your progress,” McGonagall explained, “Please work _quietly_ , thank you.”

I set to work on my spell, weaving my hands in the air to unite water, air, and earth. Hermione was busy with fire and earth in her corner; Sam with earth and water in his; and Ernie with air and fire in his. Malfoy was working with fire and air and was not seeming to get anywhere.

“Why are you not working with your mastered element, Maggie?” McGonagall walked up to me, frowning as I moved around water, earth and air together in specific ways, my brow furrowed in concentration.

“Because I have an idea,” I explained cheerfully.

McGonagall rolled her eyes and moved on to the others as I kept working. I molded and worked and started translating it into wand motions, muttering to myself and writing everything down as I worked. Eventually, I felt ready to try it out, moving towards the fireplace with my wand aloft.

“What is your spell designed to do, Maggie?” McGonagall asked immediately, walking over to me from the other side of the room.

“Quell out of control fires,” I explained, beaming at her. She frowned, but stepped back as I used elementalism to make the fire spread wildly through the room. Everyone shouted in protest, jumping back, but I waved my wand immediately, muttering, “Seimteine!” under my breath. The fire immediately began growing smaller and smaller, before shrinking back into the fireplace.

Hermione, Sam and Ernie all immediately started clapping.

“Wonderful job – I enjoy the use of Scottish Gaelic rather than Latin, nice touch,” McGonagall praised, “Why did you use the three other elements, though, rather than just fire control?”

“Because I’ve learned that sometimes you need all four to keep balance,” I smiled. McGonagall nodded, clearly pleased, and I kept practicing the spell on fires I created until class ended.

Having my family back together was better than I had imagined.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW! Thank you all for your great comments on the last two chapters - man I REALLY have appreciated it and have been pushed to write more! Right now I'm pushing through this chapter and the next one before I do some MUCH NEEDED other people POV stuff - trust me, it'll be obvious why I picked the next chapter to pause at when I post it. But then I'll do Harmony from Harry or Hermione's POV (probably Harry), and then another scene from the end of the next chapter from multiple people's POVs for reasons that will also be clear - never fear!   
> I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and please comment! Thank you so much!


	113. Chapter One Hundred and Twelve: December 6 - 8, 1966, hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "'Cause I'm one who will survive  
> The ones you eat alive  
> And nobody puts up a fight  
> They die!  
> They die!  
> Rolling dollar bills  
> And popping all these pills  
> But I'll do what I wanna do  
> 'Cause I wasn't built to lose 
> 
> You keep making the rounds  
> You push me to the ground  
> Making you feel bigger than real  
> But I'm so fucking sick of your face  
> I'm not running a race  
> I'm running away  
> I'm running away  
> While everybody else  
> Is happy on the shelf  
> And I want it messily wrestling everything down  
> Everything down  
> Down, down."  
> ~ Sick Puppies, "Survive" 
> 
> Note: For the ending scene, you should REALLY listen to "Heir of Grief" from Homestuck. Trust me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for slurs and violence

Chapter 112: December 6-8, 1996, Hogwarts

“Well, I have good news and bad news.”

I looked up apprehensively from my breakfast, swallowing down my bacon quickly as Elena ran over with the _Daily Prophet_ in her hand, the _Quibbler_ in the other.

“Good morning to you too,” Neville greeted groggily.

“Sorry – just – I’ve been up since the early morning – have you read the papers yet?” Elena demanded.

“No,” I frowned.

“Let us wake up, bloody hell Elena,” Harry groaned. Hermione nodded next to him, also looking quite sleepy – a rarity for her.

“Sorry, I can’t,” Elena paused, “Do you want the good news or the bad news first?”

“Let’s go with bad,” I frowned.

“Well, Harry, your letter to the Quibbler was published,” Elena explained.

“Okay?” Harry offered, “That shouldn’t have any negative affects _yet_ , though, right?”

“Er – no, it does already,” Elena sighed.

“Oh no,” Harry groaned.

“The person who published your article wrote a commentary below it, saying that the Statute of Secrecy promotes Wixen peace of mind and of livelihood, and though things might be grim we shouldn’t jump to any rash decisions – I mean you can read it yourself but if the _Quibbler_ doesn’t even think it’s a good idea –“ Elena sighed. Harry took the paper from her and read it, groaning softly as he did so.

“You’ll probably get a lot of different opinions coming your way for it, Harry,” Hermione sighed.

“You thought it was a good idea!” Harry protested weakly.

“I do – I’m just saying it’s controversial,” she reminded tiredly.

“Why are you both so exhausted?” Elena asked curiously.

“I was up all night coughing,” Harry admitted, “The amount of blood still stuck in my lungs is – not good.”

“Pomfrey wants him to take it easy but it’s basically impossible to get him to do so,” Hermione lamented.

“So I was coughing, and keeping her awake. It was loads of fun,” Harry sighed.

“Well at least you were there to help him?” Elena offered.

“This is true,” Hermione agreed, rubbing her eyes sleepily.

“At any rate, I just thought I’d warn you,” Elena paused.

“What about the good news?” I asked desperately.

“The good news is that the Ministry is in turmoil, everyone is fighting with each other in the Wizengamot, the _Daily Prophet_ is reporting on it, and evidently about half the Wizengamot members might get deposed,” Elena beamed.

“Wait _what_?” Hermione gasped.

“Yeah. Amelia Bones is furious because _apparently_ the Wizengamot voted to impose the badges when she wasn’t there – you don’t need the Minister to hold a meeting, but she had tabled the discussion, I think?” Elena read back over the paper, “Yeah, she tabled the discussion until her next meeting, but they brought it up and voted on it anyway. So it’s a law, but it was dirty play – she dismissed almost all the people who voted on that.”

“Oh thank god!” Hermione cheered.

“But now there needs to be people put in place – are they holding elections?” Harry asked worriedly.

“Since a lot of them were Pureblood families, sadly, they’ll need to be replaced by someone from their family. We can try to get good people in there – I think Sirius’ cousin Andromeda needs to go in for the Blacks, for example – but,” Elena frowned, “The replacements are not going to be much better.”

“I think the real significance is that Bones just threw everyone out?” Hermione offered, “I mean, the Ministry doesn’t go through upheavals like that.”

“No it doesn’t,” Harry agreed quietly.

“So now that it’s possible – “ Hermione frowned.

“There’s going to be a power struggle. We just have to hope that our side comes out on top,” Elena frowned, walking away from the table thoughtfully. I looked over at the others, all of us with equal expressions of fear.

“Let’s not worry about that now,” Hermione sighed.

But unfortunately, we were not given this luxury. Almost immediately after Hermione declared this, owls started pouring into the Great Hall; they were a huge swarm of feathers flying over our heads, diving down towards us and dropping letter after letter in Harry’s spot.

“Oh no,” Neville groaned, reaching for one and opening it.

“This feels like the old days,” I offered, grimacing as I grabbed one myself.

“Dear Mr. Potter,” Hermione began, already reading one aloud, “I have respected everything you and your friends have worked for since being exonerated, however –“

“You were always crazy, and this simply proves it – gross,” Neville grimaced.

“Your letter simply reinforced how much of a child you are, and why children should never lead movements for change – thanks,” I muttered.

“Well here’s one that agrees with me at least,” Harry breathed in relief.

“Here’s another!” Hermione cheered, reading through another letter.

“Argh, this is another person against,” Neville groaned.

“This person thinks you should be locked up in St. Mungo’s so that’s pleasant,” I moaned.

“This other person agrees but only cautiously – like they wouldn’t want to get rid of it if they didn’t think the world was shit –“ Neville sighed.

“This one’s the same, and thinks we should only tell them for the war and then wipe all their memories when it’s over,” Harry grunted.

“That’s really nice, thank you random stranger,” Hermione rolled her eyes.

“This one thinks the branding has been a good thing and that you should really recognize that some people need to be treated differently from others and oh god – I can’t believe I had to read that with my own eyes – why – why –“ Neville screamed, dropping the letter like a hot potato.

“And we have another bigot over here – ugh,” Hermione groaned.

“We have another supporter! They say they’ve wanted to tell their muggle neighbors about magic for ages apparently, since their five year old kid can’t control their magic and keeps blowing stuff up – glad _some_ people see the benefits to this…” I beamed.

“We have another detractor but at least they acknowledge that I have a point,” Harry sighed.

“Another detractor who thinks you should be locked up – in Azkaban this time, Harry,” Neville sighed.

“That’s pleasant,” Harry groaned.

“What time is it?” I asked irritably.

“No idea – do we even want to go to class after this?” Neville grumbled.

“We have to go to class,” Hermione rolled her eyes.

“And have everyone stare at me for being crazy?” Harry sighed.

“It’s nothing new!” I offered cheerfully.

“The fact that you are _not wrong_ is what annoys me the most about this moment,” Harry muttered.

“Maybe people haven’t read it – it’s from the Quibbler…” Neville suggested nervously.

“Everyone reads the Quibbler now,” Hermione sighed, “It’s one of the few trustworthy news sources left.”

“Great,” Harry grunted.

We went to Transfiguration together, Harry dreading people coming up to him, visibly tensing in his wheelchair.

“At least Pomfrey said you can walk today!” Hermione said soothingly.

“Small comfort when I’m still coughing up my lungs,” Harry muttered, “And probably will be forever.”

“Not forever, mate –“ Neville interjected.

“Probably forever,” Harry responded grimly, “It was the full force of the spell. My lungs were fucked up. I’m going to have trouble breathing for the rest of my life.”

“Well at least your main element is _air!_ ” I grinned, snapping and pointing my fingers at Harry. Harry glared back at me in annoyance.

“What! It is!” I cheered.

“I am never speaking to you again,” Harry grunted.

“You’re welcome!” I beamed as we entered the classroom.

“Hey Harry,” Ernie greeted, waving us over as we wheeled inside.

“Hey Ernie,” Harry greeted tiredly.

“I loved what you wrote in the Quibbler today – I’m sorry you’re getting hate for it,” Ernie reassured.

“Same,” Sam agreed, sitting next to Ernie and nodding at us.

“Thanks, that really means a lot,” Harry sighed.

“People have been truly terrible,” Hermione rolled her eyes.

“What else is new?” Sam asked seriously.

“I am apparently insane – which I knew – and need to be locked up – which I also knew,” Harry grunted irritably.

“Come off it,” Sam rolled his eyes.

“You do not need to be locked up, don’t be ridiculous,” Ernie agreed.

“Fine, but I _am_ crazy,” Harry muttered.

“We all are,” Neville reminded.

Harry let out a long sigh and muttered, “Fine.”

No one else came up to us, and McGonagall started the lesson right away, so we managed to keep away from the anti-Harry sentiment the rest of the day.

“I’m glad I’m finally getting out of the Hospital Wing,” Harry cheered as we wheeled him up there to gather his things.

“You should practice walking I think?” Hermione muttered nervously, shifting in her spot, “Before –“

“I’m fine,” Harry reassured, weakly getting to his feet and limping over to the bed, using the railings as support. His every move was forced and weak, him taking noticeably deep breaths as he moved.

“Oh love – are you sure –“ Hermione fretted.

“I’m absolutely sure. I want to get out of here,” Harry nodded.

“But – you’re still coughing up blood –“ Hermione whispered.

“It’s _dried_ blood,” Harry reminded, looking over at her and frowning, “What is it, really?”

Hermione flushed like mad and I sighed.

“Just talk to him, Hermione,” I urged.

“I – oh alright,” Hermione groaned, “Harry I – Harry I’m scared. About so much.”

“So am I – love so am I,” Harry weakly reached out for her and pulled her close to him, her resting her head in his chest and burying it there.

“What are you scared about in particular?” he asked softly, pulling her back from his chest to look into her eyes. She blushed furiously and I once again felt uncomfortable for being present for a private moment.

“I – I’m scared about this,” she pointed to her badge.

“Of course,” Harry nodded, gently wiping the hair away from her face.

“And – and – and I’ve slept a lot better with you than I was alone,” Hermione mumbled.

“Oh!” Harry’s eyes widened, “Oh! Um – I can stay an extra night –“

“I actually… thought of a solution?” Hermione offered timidly.

“No need to be scared – I’m all ears,” Harry reassured.

“We could sleep in the room of requirement?” Hermione offered.

“That’s brilliant – yes – yes we can do that – I just want to get my actual pajamas from the tower,” Harry nodded.

“Okay,” Hermione beamed widely, leaning up and kissing him.  He made that sound _again_ and wrapped his arms tightly around her, pulling her close to him even though he was very weak on his feet as it was.

“Okay you two, you’re in front of us,” I rolled my eyes.

“You’ve done the same to us _countless_ times,” Hermione rolled her eyes as she pulled away.

“That’s not the point,” I smirked, “We need to get moving if Harry has to go to the Gryffindor Common Room.”

“Right,” Harry nodded, breathless again, weakly pushing himself back on the chair.

“Good plan, baby steps,” Neville nodded, pushing him out of the Hospital Wing and through the secret passageways up to the Gryffindor Tower, where Neville helped him up to the boy’s dormitory to get his things.

“Happy?” I asked Hermione cheekily. She flushed and nodded, dancing a little in her spot.

“I can’t help it, he _makes_ me happy,” she murmured, smiling widely.

“Yay!” I beamed, hugging her as the other two came back downstairs, Harry laden with some clothes.

“Come on,” Neville rolled his eyes, and we pushed Harry out of the Common Room, down a passageway, up another, to the seventh floor with the Room of Requirement.

We helped Harry into the room and placed his stuff around – it turned into a modest bedroom, and Hermione blushed furiously as she stared at the bed.

“You guys going to be alright?” I asked seriously.

“Yeah, just an adjustment,” Harry nodded.

“We’ll be fine – I can help Harry out with this sort of thing,” Hermione reassured.

“Alright – sleep well, you too,” I nodded. Neville and I left then, Neville grinning a little at me.

“I remember when you asked to sleep with me,” Neville laughed.

“Yeah?” I giggled.

“I was so nervous – but I was so focused on making sure you were safe that I had to do it. As the night waned I got more and more used to it and I was so – so happy about how right it felt,” Neville murmured lovingly as we walked down to our room.

“Yeah,” I smiled, “I mean I was focused on withdrawal –“

“Obviously,” Neville laughed.

“But sleeping with you is and always has been one of the most wonderful things we do,” I murmured as we reached the room, wrapping my arms tightly around his stomach and squeezing as the raptors trotted up to greet us.

“Definitely,” Neville agreed, kissing my forehead and stroking my hair from my face, “I love you.”

“I love you,” I murmured, leaning up to kiss him lovingly, enjoying the feeling of his body against mine, wrapped all around me and enveloping me in warmth and safety.

There was no where I’d rather be.

The next day we had to get up early, though, and all go together to Aberdeen to visit one of the Trans clinics.

“Ron and I have managed to put up _fifteen_ across the country!” Luna cheered as we all headed out to the Floo in the Hog’s Head together in the snowy landscape, “We have one in London, Edinburgh, Glasgow, Aberdeen, Birmingham, Leeds, Dublin, Cork, Belfast, Manchester, Liverpool, Cardiff, Swansea, Bristol, and Leicester!”

“Luna that’s brilliant,” Ernie beamed, “I’m so happy it’s been working out!”

“Yes, Ron and I got them all set up easily, didn’t we Ron?” Luna asked, beaming over at him. He smiled back at her, always a rare sight, and nodded.

“Yeah, I’m actually glad we’ve been doing it. Each time we set up a clinic people come in rather quickly and they’re always really happy to see what we have to offer and how we can help – there have been loads of parents bringing in their kids to keep receiving their hormones and that sort of thing. I actually feel like I’m doing something good,” Ron smiled weakly.

“Nice job bro,” Ginny grinned, elbowing him playfully in the arm.

“Will you be able to keep this going for a while?” Elena asked curiously.

“We have to keep collecting donations and I know no one’s eager about having another bakesale, but…” Ron frowned.

“I really do think it’s worth it,” Luna explained, “You should have seen it you guys.”

“Definitely – we’ll keep raising money don’t you worry,” Ernie nodded.

We were a large group of people headed off together – Harry was walking weakly with a walking stick, Hermione, Neville, me, Ernie, Sam, Nadia, Ginny, Elena, Pete, Kat, Claire, Ron, Luna, Dean, and Seamus all heading out together, talking and laughing and enjoying ourselves as we traveled to Aberdeen.

It was a relatively small city, but the third largest in Scotland and the only fairly large one in the north, so it was placed there for convenience for surrounding areas. The clinic was hidden from muggle eyes (like, sadly, all of them were) and relatively small, so that when we all crowded in together there wasn’t exactly enough room for all of us.

“Hello!” greeted a Scottish woman, running up to us, “Here to check on our progress?”

“You were the first clinic we set up,” Luna beamed.

“Want to see how you’re getting on,” Ron nodded.

“Oh splendidly – come see some of our clients, come come!” the woman urged, leading us to the back of the room. There were some children there with their parents, all receiving hormone shots for a galleon or less.

“We tell them it’s all up to what they can pay – we list the price of the drug as it is normally, but we aren’t making anyone pay more than what they can afford,” the woman explained, “We know in theory they’re all free, but we figure emphasizing that this is a place that runs on donations is helpful –“

“No that’s good, as long as you’re not making people pay,” Ernie nodded.

“Not at all,” she reassured, “Plenty of people have not donated money and we don’t fault them for it. But we have managed to get a return on some of the cost which should help out your efforts in gathering funds, should it not?”

“Definitely,” Sam nodded.

“Thank you, we’ll send that message along to the other clinics,” Harry nodded, weakly leaning on his stick.

“How are you doing?” the woman asked immediately, looking alarmed, “I’m sorry Potter – I should have offered you a seat –“

“I’m fine,” Harry smiled, “These gents need it more.” He nodded to the kids, who all looked at him in awe and shyness.

“Mr. Potter?” one asked curiously. He raised his eyebrows at them, smiling.

“Yeah? What’s your name?” he asked.

“Bertrand,” he responded, swallowing, “I don’t like this thing on my arm.”

Bertrand pointed to his badge.

“Ah, yeah, neither do I,” Harry nodded, looking horrified but trying to hide it, “See? I have one too.”

Bertrand nodded, frowning at his badge, “I’m colored differently from my parents in this box, see?”

He pointed to his gender orientation box, which was dark blue, like Ernie’s and Luna’s and Ron’s.

“Yes – yes I do see,” Harry swallowed.

“It makes me feel different,” Bertrand continued.

“You’re not,” Ernie said with a strangled voice.

“You’re different,” Ron frowned, “But you’re not better or worse than anyone else. Just different. We all have differences – for example I have red hair, and you have black.”

Bertrand nodded, looking thoughtful.

“But – Mr –“ one of the other children began.

“Weasley,” Ron offered.

“Mr. Weasley, why do they mark this on our badges? I mean, we have different hair but that’s not on the badge,” the child stammered.

“It’s – because – “ Ron stammered, unable to get it out.

“It’s because the people who govern us are a bunch of poopy heads,” Neville murmured soothingly, pointing to his badge, “See? Mine’s labeled pink.”

“Why are you pink?” the second child asked curiously.

“Because I’m neither a man or a woman,” Neville responded cheerfully.

“For some reason I am too,” Kat offered, looking nervous and pointing hers out.

“The poopyheads who lead us think that this makes us lower than they are for being green in the box,” Neville scowled, “But we’re not. They’re wrong.”

“Thank you,” the child murmured sheepishly.

“What’s your name?” Neville asked kindly.

“Helen,” she responded shyly.

“Helen, you’re going to be okay. I promise,” Neville nodded, looking torn.

“Thank you,” she nodded, blushing a little.

“Well I think we should all go, unless you’d like help?” Hermione offered the woman.

“I think I’ve got it covered, thank you all for coming in. I’m sure it meant a lot, right children?” the woman asked. All the kids nodded, smiling at us.

“We were happy to stop by. We’ll set up another charity run sometime soon,” Ernie choked out. We were all shaken from the exchange, and quickly walked back out to the streets.

“Fuck the Ministry for giving kids badges,” Ron hissed angrily.

“Fuck them,” Ginny agreed.

“I can’t fucking believe this,” Claire screeched.

“How can you label _children?_ They don’t even know what _sexuality is!_ ” Pete roared.

“They had their boxes marked green – can you believe that – what if we have these badges by the time their teens – imagine knowing that you’re going to have to get your box changed. Imagine going to the Ministry and asking them to change it – willingly subjecting yourself to that pain – imagine everyone seeing after you do it – is there a test in place for lying? I feel like a lot of people would just stay in the closet –“ Hermione rambled.

“I have no idea,” Harry frowned, “but that still can’t be good – I wouldn’t know but I can get an inkling from you lot and –“

“Stay in the closet or subject yourself to ridicule and possibly worse? It’s my worst nightmare!” Sam screamed.

“I can’t believe this – I can’t believe they’re torturing children – did _babies_ get the badges?” Hermione moaned.

“Who knows – fuck – who knows,” Neville hissed.

“Come on, let’s go to the pub – there’s a wixen pub down the bend, we could all use a bloody drink,” Dean offered. We moved together into the pub and piled in, walking up to bar in a huddled mass of cold and fury.

“Can we have some butterbeers, please?” Harry asked tiredly.

The bartender just ignored us, wiping off glasses and organizing some of his shelf.

“Excuse me? Hello?” Harry asked. The bartender continued to work. Another customer came up, asking calmly for a firewhiskey. The man poured the drink without another word, working hard on his cleaning.

“Excuse me? Sir?” Harry demanded.

The man kept ignoring us, and I was getting mad.

“SIR!” Harry shouted, coughing immediately afterwards, blood coming up out of his lungs and onto the ground. Hermione immediately fretted, looking scared and reaching out for his arm.

The bartender was forced to look up at Harry, glaring slightly.

“Can we have –“ Harry began.

“No,” the bartender stated gruffly.

“No?” Harry asked, now looking even more angry.

“I see a lot of not green on your badges, and I have the right to refuse service to anyone,” he explained.

“I have plenty of green on mine –“ Harry insisted.

“I know who you are,” the bartender sneered, “And you’ll just give drinks to all your little friends. That one holding onto you there has only two green badges – no right to have _my_ alcohol.”

“Oi!” Harry shouted.

“You bigoted prat,” Ernie sneered.

“And you appear to be a girl in men’s clothing. Go home, little girl,” the bartender sneered.

“Oi!” Neville shouted.

“Fuck off!” Sam screeched.

“What are you going to do to me, ching-chong?” the man laughed.

Sam roared in fury and dove over the bar. The bartender shouted in shock as Sam threw him to the ground, his hands roughly around the bartender’s neck, squeezing tightly.

“Fuck off!” a man in the back shouted.

“Oi! Get them – they’re those queers who are causing all this trouble!” another person screamed.

“Those fuckers!”

I turned around in shock as the entire bar seemed to get up, sneering at us with hatred and fury. Some people slipped out of the bar, but this seemed to be as much of a Ministry/Backlash sympathizing hellscape as there could possibly be.

“Fuck,” Harry whispered.

“Sam, get off him!” Ernie urged. Sam was still strangling the bartender, but he pulled back at Ernie’s words, staring at the bartender in fury.

“Can’t even hurt me, you f –“

“NO,” Sam roared, “I WILL NOT BE CALLED THAT FUCKING WORD AGAIN!” He swung his arm back and punched the bartender roughly in the face, his fist making a cracking sound as it came into contact with his nose. The man passed out, blood pouring from his nostrils, as Sam got up from behind the bar and glowered at the Backlash.

“What the fuck do you want?” he hissed.

“You lot want us to get rid of the Statue of Secrecy now!” one hissed.

“You are trying to ruin our lives and make us equal with _muggles!_ ” another screamed.

“We’re all just people!” Neville hissed.

“Oh yeah? Prove it!” another laughed.

“Wizards and witches are obviously above the muggles. You are messing with laws of nature and always have been!” a backlash member cackled.

“You’re wrong!” Neville roared, reaching forward to punch one of them. His knuckles also made a crunching sound, and I roared and dived at another Backlash member who was reaching for Neville, tackling him to the ground and punching him in the face.

An all out brawl began at that, everyone fighting each other violently and brutally. Elena, Kat and Hermione were shepherding Harry out of there, Harry clearly unable to participate. The man I was punching managed to throw me off of him, him being quite larger than me, and I was flung back into the bar, hitting my head hard. I groaned with pain but turned around, hissing quietly as all the people fought around me.

I immediately spread fire across the alcohol on the shelves behind the bar, which all immediately began burning ridiculously. The Backlash people shouted in shock and fury as the fire exploded in front of us, most of them leaving quickly in terror. Only the bartender stayed, and I made sure to keep the fire far away from him. Once I was satisfied they were all gone, I pulled out my wand and muttered, “Seimteine.” The fire quelled immediately, barely any of the alcohol having burned away, just the stuff on the outsides of the bottles.

“Alright,” I muttered, “Let’s go.”

Everyone looked at me in amazement as I stepped through the tipped over chairs and tables, a furious glare on my face. Hermione, Elena, Kat, and Harry said nothing at my display, only wordlessly following as we reached the Wixen Waystation – a floo spot for wixen coming up north – and flooed back to Hogsmeade.  

“I am done,” I hissed as Neville and I made our ways up to our room, “With this backlash _shit_.”

“Same,” Neville muttered, “Our Rebellion is being torn apart by Harry’s declaration enough as it is – we don’t need them being… them.”

“I’m not going to just stand by and let them abuse the people I care about,” I nodded.

“And by fucking god I am going to _prove_ that we are no different than muggles,” Neville hissed.

“I believe in you Nev,” I nodded, looking up at him and lovingly stroking his cheek, “Do you want to work on that tonight?”

“Yes,” he sighed, “I need to – mind working on your dinosaurs?”

“Never,” I laughed. Neville kissed me lovingly and we spent the night working, though I was quite distracted – the sight of all those hateful people turning on the people I cared about most was not one that would leave my head quickly.

The next day, no one was up for anything interesting. We ate breakfast, got the usual hatemail, and said very little amongst ourselves.

“How are things, you two?” I asked Harry and Hermione tiredly, only halfheartedly poking at my food with my fork.

“Good,” Hermione smiled weakly.

“Sleeping next to her is the best thing ever,” Harry agreed.

“I’ve never slept better,” Hermione blushed.

“I’m glad,” I smiled.

“I know this feeling well,” Neville nodded.

“I wish we could make it a permanent thing, actually,” Harry offered, blushing nervously and running a hand through his hair. He looked at Hermione sheepishly, fully colored all over his face, “As long as – you’d want to –“

“Yes,” Hermione answered immediately, looking more relieved than she had since we’d gone to Aberdeen, “Oh Merlin, yes – oh yes – yes –“

Harry looked overwhelmed, his eyes widening greatly.

“I was dreading the day we’d stop – I’m sorry – I’m just glad you feel the same,” Hermione stammered.

“Of course I do – come on Hermione, we’re together now,” Harry smiled lovingly at her, gently stroking the hair from her face and kissing her on the forehead, “You don’t have to be afraid to tell me these things. We’ll talk to McGonagall today.”

Hermione nodded, smiling and reaching to hug him tightly. She rested her head on his chest, and had the most blissful expression on her face. It made me happy, and just a little bit hopeful after the day before.

“I think I’m going to go do some transfiguration lessons with McGonagall,” I murmured, getting up, “I’ll see you all later.”

“Have fun,” Neville beamed, leaning up to kiss me from his seat. I kissed him back lovingly, walking out into the Entrance hall, thinking maybe I’d encourage someone to write a piece on how the Backlash was nothing compared to us –

The ground was shaking again.

I whirled around and ran out to the grounds, pausing in front of the lake. Many students followed me, coming from breakfast and now mentally prepared for more attacks. We were ready for this sort of thing now – we were siege veterans.

However, what greeted me wasn’t the usual Death Eaters, or B-list Death Eaters, or even trolls.

No –

There were three giants – how were there three giants – weren’t all the giants coming from the north? Weren’t they coming from _Siberia_?

How did they get through?

Where did they get these new giants?

Where did they come from?

Everyone around me was panicking – most people who had come out to fight at the shaking, with me, were now running back inside. There was no way we could fight huge, fully grown, burly giants without the dragons, and the dragons were in _the northern islands_.

“Maggie!”

I looked around wildly to see McGonagall run towards me.

“Maggie, _get inside now!_ ” she shrieked.

“We have no one to fight them!” I screamed in response.

“I know – I know – just – go!” McGonagall insisted.

“But who’s going to fight them?!” I begged.

“I’ve sent word via patronus out to Shae and the others – hopefully they can spare some fighters – inside, _now, Margaret!_ ” McGonagall roared. I turned on my heel and ran back inside the castle as McGonagall followed me, the giants facing literally no opposition except for some of the few Order members still guarding the castle, now fighting against them valiantly as all the students escaped back inside.

“In the basement! Now!” McGonagall ordered, having apparently followed me inside to make sure that I _went_ inside, “I must go and help them –“

“No!” I screamed, “You’ll get killed!”

“Do as I say!” McGonagall roared back, and I made a move to go into the dungeon, turning back to watch her run back out with tears streaming down my face.

_No –_

“Maggie?”

I turned around to see Harry, limping slightly and looking at me in terror. Hermione and Neville followed him closely, clearly having helped him get up from the table at the first rumbles of the ground.

“Giants,” I gasped out through my lungs that seemed to be crushing with their own weight, “Giants, and no dragons –“

“Harry, you stay here,” Hermione ordered.

“Yes, we’ll fight – anyone who is able to, come on!” Neville urged.

“But –“ Harry protested.

“You’re still weak after what happened to you, Harry, you can’t go out there,” Hermione shook her head rapidly, “I’m sorry.”

Harry reached out for her weakly, his arm visibly straining with the effort. The other older DA members were escaping from the basement, running out to fight, not being held back by any professors. Neville hung back from following them, looking at me desperately.

“Hermione please,” Harry begged.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, reaching for him and kissing him passionately, “I love you.”

“I love you,” he mumbled, backing up into the dungeon and watching her run with an exceptionally heartbroken face. I could see tears start to form in his eyes as he watched the sillouhette of Hermione disappear into the distance.

Neville reached out and grabbed my hand, obviously to pull me with him, but I shook my head.

I knew what I had to do.

“What?” he asked, now his face mimicking Harry’s from before, as Harry walked into the basement dejectedly.

“I need to get something – I’ll be back,” I reassured.

“Mags – “

“I need to do this, we need help,” I explained.

“What are you going to do?” he shouted, but I had already turned and ran, running up the stairs and towards McGonagall’s office.

“WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO?!” he screamed after me.

“WHAT I HAVE TO,” I shouted back, not even turning around as I went into the stairs. I ran up them as students panicked and ran down around me, sprinting off to the correct floor, my feet flying behind me as I tapped into that useful dragon energy. I quickly broke down the door, not even pausing, and I grabbed the two ravens we had been prepping to be _Therizinosaurus_ , running with their cages back down the stairs.

They both squawked loudly at me but I ignored them, thinking through formulae and body shape and anatomy in my head.

_You can do this you can do this you can do this you can do this_

I sprinted past the dungeons, out the the grounds where everyone was fighting. The students were putting up large numbers of shields against the giants, and the Order members were doing everything they could, but it was clear the giants were advancing. I couldn’t see Hermione or Neville anywhere.

I ran out along the fray, moving as close to the shield as I could until I finally got out from around it. The giants paid no attention to me as I fumbled to get the cages open, sweating heavily so that my hands could barely get a grip on the metal latches. There didn’t seem to be many Death Eaters, at least – in fact, I didn’t see any. Perhaps they thought three giants against a literally dragon-less castle would be enough.

The ravens were extremely agitated and tried to fly off but I shouted, “ _NO!_ ” and they looked at me expectantly. I swallowed, hoping my training in multiple simultaneous transfigurations from class would work, and waved my wand while muttering.

The giants noticed me and started walking towards me.

I muttered faster.

The ravens grew more scared with every thundering step of the giants.

The giants roared in excitement.

I shouted out the final word, stepping back rapidly as the ravens began transforming in front of me. The giants looked down at the proceedings in confusion, the ravens growing larger and larger, their legs getting stockier and more muscled, their feathers thinning at the tails and legs, becoming shaggier and thicker around the torso, the beak being replaced with a scaly snout and teeth, the black feathers becoming reddish brown and bright read on the snouth, the eyes turning from black to yellow –

They kept growing bigger

And bigger

And bigger

I screamed in shock and ran backwards as the two giant animals roared at each other, their boxy toothy heads so huge and terrifying that I could barely think straight, and I had _created_ them.

The two ravens had become two _Tyrannosaurus rex_.

And they were _mad_.

The female roared at the male, and the giants were too dumbstruck to do much of anything. The male roared back, but was still smaller and less aggressive than the female –

Alpha and Omega –

I would call them that –

The female stopped roaring at the male and turned on the giants, screaming at them in anger and aggression. The giants immediately started backing up in fear, faced with an unknown and terrifying challenger. The male – Omega – turned around rapidly, his tale swishing over my head. I screeched and ducked, crouching low against the ground as it shook horrifically beneath my feet.

The female roared and charged at the giants, and the giants were forced to charge back, clubs swinging at my new giant children, but the female ducked deftly from the club. The male charged during the giant’s distraction, grabbing the giant’s arm in his maw and shaking madly. The giant screeched in terror and stumbled forward, making Alpha – the female – back up in surprise.

The two rexes were now working together, lunging and ducking from the giants, roaring and biting and chomping at the ugly humanoids. The giants were regaining their composure, screaming and swinging at them, but the rexes were the same height and more than a match for them. Omega managed to grab ahold of the giant’s arm, biting it and shaking it violently, the giant roaring in protest. Alpha came around to the other side, grabbing onto the giant’s hand, but the giant managed to fling her off, roaring in fury at the pain and blood pouring from his hand.

The giant lunged forward and the rexes scattered around him, the giant turning about to go after the male. Omega roared and lunged as the female backed up again, hissing and trying to keep track of the giant’s position at all times.

The female – Alpha – roared and roared as she backed up erratically, her feet moving in not a logical pattern at all, me just watching her to try and avoid her feet as I backed up with her, the rexes and giants all moving towards me when –

Everything was a blur –

I could only see the back of a very bird like foot –

I couldn’t react fast enough –

_Pain_

And then all was black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *CACKLES MADLY*
> 
> Please comment 
> 
> Side stories coming out soon
> 
> Art by my friend Ryuukiba


	114. Intermission One: December 8, 1996, Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Yeah, here we go for the hundredth time  
> Hand grenade pins in every line  
> Throw 'em up and let something shine  
> Going out of my fucking mind  
> Filthy mouth, no excuse  
> Find a new place to hang this noose  
> String me up from atop these roofs  
> Knot it tight so I won't get loose  
> Truth is you can stop and stare  
> Bled myself out and no one cares  
> Dug a trench out, laid down there  
> With a shovel up out of reach somewhere  
> Yeah, someone pour it in  
> Make it a dirt dance floor again  
> Say your prayers and stomp it out  
> When they bring that chorus in  
> I bleed it out  
> Digging deeper just to throw it away  
> I bleed it out  
> Digging deeper just to throw it away  
> I bleed it out  
> Digging deeper just to throw it away  
> Just to throw it away  
> Just to throw it away."  
> ~ Linkin Park, "Bleed It Out"
> 
> I do reiterate that the real theme is "Heir of Grief" from Homestuck

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for Violence

INTERMISSION ONE: DECEMBER 8, 1996, HOGWARTS

**NEVILLE POV**

** **

Why must there always be fighting

Why must there always be another attack

Why are we not allowed to be safe again

Harry was struggling to his feet, shaking with every movement as Hermione and I helped him up. Everything was a blur as students ran out around us.

Where was Maggie?

What was happening?

We limped out into Entrance Hall, everyone running about – too chaotic – too many people – what was happening –

Harry limped forward on his own, leaning on his stick and staring around in horror.

“Harry –“ Hermione called out

What was happening

“Maggie?” Harry asked. Maggie was running in front of us. She looked scared and disheveled. She looked like everything was going to shit and there was nothing anyone could do.

My heart lodged in my throat.

“Giants,” Maggie gasped, and my heart remained lodged, “Giants, and no dragons –“

“Harry, you stay here,” Hermione urged. He had to get to the basement.

To safety –

“Yes, we’ll fight,” I urged, shouting out to the running students. Without Harry, we had to band together. They were everywhere, screaming and running into the dungeons, to safety, where Harry needed to go.

“Anyone who is able to, come on!” I begged our peers, looking after them desperately. Many came back, nodding at me with fierce determination in their eyes. They were ready.

We would die to defend our home.

The thought chilled my spine.

So many dead children.

“But –“ Harry protested. His voice was weak. It sounded scratchy still. He’d been coughing too much. His words were almost muffled – did he have blood in his throat again?

“You’re still weak after what happened to you, Harry, you can’t go out there,” Hermione urged. Her voice was desperate.

I looked over at Maggie, who was poised to run. She was watching the exchange, only half present. Her hair was falling out of its hair tie again. She was biting her lip too hard and I could see blood.

I needed to calm her

But we were in a war

“I’m sorry,” Hermione shook her head so fast her hair was a great blur.

Harry reached for her. His arm was shaking. He looked to be in pain. More people were leaving the basement, running to fight. Ernie nodded at me, his face contorted into a fierce glare. Sam followed him quickly. Ginny and Nadia were sprinting, not sparing us a second glance.

No one was stopping them.

Who would?

I looked over at Maggie. She looked at me. Her eyes matched mine.

We should have run away.

“Hermione pleased,” Harry begged.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured. They kissed, passionately, desperately, lovingly – it would have warmed my heart had the situation not been so dire – “I love you.”

“I love you,” Harry responded. He eased himself into the dungeon. I knew he needed help, but I couldn’t wait to help him.

I reached out for Maggie. I wouldn’t let her out of my sight for once, at least. Not this battle. Not this time.

She was shaking her head – too much – her hair was flopping about everywhere – her eyes were glinting –

Oh no –

What was she planning –

“What?” I asked. I had to stop her – I had to keep her safe – with _me_ –

“I need to get something – I’ll be back,” she promised.

I hated when she did this.

“Mags –“

“I need to do this, we need help,” she insisted.

“What are you going to do?” At least tell me how you’re going to strangle my heart this time, Mags. At least tell me how you’re going to sacrifice yourself for the greater good.

She was running away, though.

Dammit Maggie.

“WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO?!” I roared. She needed to tell me.

“WHAT I HAVE TO,” she responded, and she was gone up the stairs. Harry was already in the dungeons. Hermione was already out fighting.

Three giants.

Three.

Giants were basically impervious to spells.

How were we to fight them?

How were we, on our own, to fight them?

Maggie obviously had an idea – what idea could I have?

I swallowed and ran through the castle, my heart pounding in my chest. I was getting out of breath since I was very out of shape. I didn’t care much usually but right now I did.

What could kill giants?

The grounds were shaking. The giants were attacking. Who knew what was happening.

I was in the library. I knew this was a terrible idea, but I didn’t have any better ones. I ran to the giants section, and to the magical creatures section. The castle shook around my head.

I hoped Maggie was okay.

I quickly flipped through the books, skimming as fast as I could. Ages of studying advanced muggle genetics techniques had made me an amazing speed reader.

I could do things, so long as I practiced.

_Basilisk venom –_

_Lethal to most creatures –_

That’s unhelpful –

I went to the giants book –

_Impervious to most curses –_

_Susceptible to certain spells, such as Fiendfyre, and certain toxins, such as basilisk venom, though only in high concentrations –_

Excellent.

I slammed the book shut and ran, ran through the castle, to Dumbledore’s office. I didn’t even try to pretend to be polite. I pulled out my wand and shouted, “ _BOMBARDA!_ ”

It was time to get my old sword out again.

Great… great… infinite greats grandpa would be proud, I supposed.

I ran through Dumbledore’s office, up to his books, where hanging above them was my sword. I grabbed it, twirling it about in my hands.

_“Oh, be careful with that when you do practice, Mr. Longbottom,” Dumbledore had said._

_I hated that term but I ignored it._

Back then I had no idea why. How young I was.

_“Why, sir?” I asked nervously._

_“Because it becomes strengthened by any material it comes into contact with that would strengthen it – rather than those that would weaken it – so it now has basilisk venom integral to its blade,” Dumbledore explained._

_“Oh,” I looked down at it with newfound awe, “Thank you.”_

I ran down the steps again. The shaking was continuing. I could hear roars in the distance –

They were not the roars of giants –

Were the dragons back, at least? Was I off the hook?

I didn’t know.

I had to run out, sprinting again, my heart pounding much too fast as I reached the grounds.

_HOLY SHIT_

There were two _Tyrannosaurus rex_ – that’s what they had to be – fighting on the grounds. They were attacking a giant. The giant was no match for them as they roared and bit at his arms and hands.

I couldn’t focus on that now –

_God dammit Maggie –_

I ran up to a giant. Everyone was putting up shields though the chaos due to the rexes was making people panic – the shields were faltering. I ran out to the giants and screamed in fury, raising the sword above my head. I swung it forward, ramming it into a giant’s foot.

The giant screamed in pain, and I could see sickly green blood trail up from my sword.

I hacked it again, jumping about the giant’s foot as it moved forward, screaming with ever slice my blade made with its skin. Its skin was so thick and hard to cut through, but I fought anyway, sweat pouring from my forehead down my face.

I had to keep cutting.

I lunged forward, running the sword through the giant’s leg. The giant screamed in pain but didn’t fall.

It wasn’t enough venom.

_Should have gone down to the Chamber of Secrets itself and grabbed some fangs._

I should have.

Fuck.

One of the rexes roared in pain. I looked over at it in confusion, the rex seemed to be shaking out its foot and limping a little. The other rex roared in confusion.

What was happening?

The giant suddenly swung it’s club above my head. I ducked just in time.

I had to pay attention.

I had to be careful.

I ran out, swinging my sword again, following the beast. I swung it over and over again into his ankles. Each swing hurt him, but none killed him. I roared in frustration and fury, screaming at the top of my lungs.

“WHY,” I screamed as I swung the sword into its calf.

“WON’T,” I begged as I ran it through its heel.

“YOU,” I yelled, chopping it into one of its toes.

“ _DIE!”_ I roared, whirling it about my head and stabbing it through its other calf. The giant screamed again and I could see a lot of basilisk poison in its veins, but it wasn’t spreading any higher than its knee. I ripped the sword out, twisting as I did so, allowing for a large amount of blood to flow out of the wound. It hadn’t been my intention to do that before – I wanted the poisoned blood to stay _inside_ – but the poison was clearly being blocked somewhere, or there wasn’t enough of it, and now I just had to weaken the thing.

I stabbed it again. I twisted the sword. Doing so lifted me off the ground as the giant stepped forward, but I would not relinquish my grip on the handle. I dug the sword around as hard as I could before pulling it out once more.

The giant roared in fury and swung its club again.

I grabbed my sword and readied myself.

The club swept over my head and I ducked again.

Everyone was screaming.

The rexes were still fighting the other giant.

I couldn’t see Maggie

Or Hermione

I roared and lunged at the giant, stabbing it again. The giant screamed and swung its club.

I saw the brown wood fly towards me.

The giant was sweaty, though, as it fought off the poison and blood loss and the spells being thrown at it.

So sweaty that it lost its grip on the club.

I ducked, as though it would swing over me like normal.

The club instead came careening towards me.

It ran into my stomach, forcing me backwards, me grunting in pain –

So much pain –

I was thrown – I didn’t know how far –

Far enough –

I fell to the ground –

The ground slid beneath me as I skated through it –

The club was heavy against my stomach –

My head hurt –

It had hit something else –

And then all was black.

**HERMIONE POV**

** **

I ran away from Harry. His face was etched with pain. Every single bit of it was etched with pain that I could not bear. I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to hold him. I had to help him. I couldn’t help him. I had to fight, and he could not. He was too sick. Why was he sick? Why did he have to be sick? Why couldn’t I help him to not be sick. Well I would do my best to do so. Just had to live through this first. Maggie was fretting about something. Her hair was sticking up everywhere and her eyes were flashing. She was plotting. Didn’t she know by now that we all knew when she was plotting? I hated it when she plotted. It hardly ever turned out well. Neville was worried. Neville could tell. Why couldn’t Maggie make things easier on Neville? I suppose no one would ask her to change that much. If she didn’t plot to help save the day she wouldn’t be Maggie anymore. Her and her damn brother had that in common. No Harry you could not come with me. Harry you have to stay. Stop looking at me like that.

Thank G-d he loves me.

Thank G-d he loves me.

Thank G-d he loves me.

If I was to die today at least I got to feel his lips and be held in his arms and stroke his hair and hear those words and stare into his eyes and have everything I’d dreamt of for years and years and years. If only now I could see my parents again. They were safe in America at least. Not here in this hellscape. They would be dead here, eventually. We would all be dead. Sometimes I wished we were all dead. It might be better than this. Than getting branded like my people and thrown out for the slaughter.

I ran out to the Grounds. There were giants everywhere. Well just three of them. They were huge. They were forty feet tall and burly and sweaty and gross. They had the palest, almost see through skin, perhaps from living in Siberia. They looked like they were too hot. They were not used to the relatively warmer Scottish climate. Scotland was an island, it was more affected by the sea – the sea made temperatures more mild and precipitation heavier. Siberia was drier and colder. They were not used to the humidity and the warmth. The light snow wasn’t enough to keep them comfortable. Good. Maybe I could use this to my advantage.

“GRANGER GET BACK IN THERE.”

It was McGonagall. I turned to face her, glaring. Kids were coming up from the castle. They were coming in droves. Who else would fight? I saw all my friends, except for my main family. I didn’t know where Maggie was, or Neville, and I sure to G-d hoped Harry was in the dungeons. He needed to stay where he was safe. His lungs could not take combat right now. He was coughing up fresh blood again and we didn’t know what to do or who to tell or how to fix it but we weren’t going to go for help unless it got worse and combat would _definitely make it worse and –_

“You can’t make me, Professor!” I answered. McGonagall glowered at me, but the fighting was too much. The giants were advancing on Hogwarts. McGonagall turned to make a huge shield blocking us all from the danger. I couldn’t get around it. It was almost impossible to fight from behind the shield. She knew what she was doing, I could give her that. McGonagall really wanted to protect us.

But that wasn’t her job anymore.

We were already doomed.

Everything was happening as fast as my thoughts did which was rare and new. I was overwhelmed. Colors everywhere images everywhere movement everywhere sound everywhere _screaming_ everywhere smells everywhere the giants smelled too much I couldn’t think I couldn’t breathe I couldn’t focus spiral spiral spiral spiral –

I fell to the ground and pressed my palms flat against the grass. I knelt there breathing hard. I tried to remember how to breath. I had to remember how to think. How did humans think? One two three four five six seven eight nine ten. I couldn’t have a panic attack. I had to fight instead.

Screaming. Screaming everywhere. People were afraid. The giants were going to kill us all. There were too many of them and two few of us and they didn’t really respond to spells. The Death Eaters had known what they were doing. They distracted us. They made us think that the giants had only come from the North. But no, somehow, some Siberian giants had swum further south. Perhaps to the bays near Aberdeen. That hive of scum and villainy. No one would miss it.

The giants had come from somewhere. The giants had snuck through while all the dragons were occupied. What a rooky mistake. Why had none stayed behind? We must not let this happen again. How were we to defend ourselves?

I helped McGonagall in making the shield. Someone had to. The kids were fighting – some were older than me though but they were all kids – and the Order was fighting – good on them for being around – but it would not be enough. There were too many of us. Too many too many too many.

Do not panic.

Take a deep breath.

I breathed as deeply as I could and focused. McGonagall needed help. She glared at me again but said nothing. She knew she needed help too. Her hair was falling out of its bun and everything was getting torn up in the wind and the humidity. The giants were not used to it. They were sweating everywhere.

There was roaring.

I turned in shock to face the roaring. Two _Tyrannosaurus rex_. Covered in feathers but I could still recognize them from my picture books. What were they doing here? How were they here? What –

_Maggie –_

McGonagall was groaning next to me. The rexes were attacking a giant.  The rexes were huge and more than a match for a giant and holy crap how many teeth did they have? I had to go see if she needed help – controlling them had to have been impossible –

The giants were advancing again. Closer up I could see how leathery and sweaty their skin was. Their stench filled the air and made my nostrils feel like they were on fire. I gagged, my chest trying to heave up something that wasn’t there. What if I vomited/ Vomiting would not be good. Vomiting would be bad. I should try to not vomit. Vomiting would distract me and make me vulnerable to attack and then vomiting would be the least of my problems. I tried to calm myself down. I still felt ill. I still felt too ill. I looked up at the giants as they got closer.

One of the giants was screaming. The rexes were roaring. There were too many sounds. Why was the giant screaming? I looked over, there were too many people, I couldn’t make any of them out. They were all a blur. A blur of pain and screaming and chaos and fear.

I was panicking

I was panicking

Panic

Panic

Panic

One two three four five six seven eight nine ten

Screaming just to do it again

One two three four five six seven eight nine ten

I blinked and looked around. The chaos was still going on. One of the rexes was shaking their foot in pain, roaring loudly and laughing at the giant. The giant was screaming in what had to be terror, running away as the rexes charged. Another giant was screaming and I didn’t know why. The third one was advancing steadily, unperturbed by its comrades, only focused on tearing Hogwarts down. McGonagall was nowhere to be seen – where did she go? I couldn’t hold off the giants on my own. Though I wasn’t alone. There were plenty of people fighting including Order members but somehow I felt safer with McGonagall here.

The one giant running away was so focused on the rexes that they weren’t looking around in their surroundings – the giant advancing towards us was so focused on the ground that they weren’t looking at theirs – I had an idea –

I ran around the shield and out behind the giants, scattering – too many feet – too many huge feet – run run run run run – I skirted around one of the legs and slid in the muddy snowy grass and kept running, my feet were practically flying across the grass, I had to move faster, I had to actually fly, I had to get behind them, I had to help everyone –

I was finally behind the giants. They paid no attention to me. Figures, I was too small to be on their radar. Well that was good. I sneered at them – they were horrible and hugely and I wanted them gone and not hurting the people I loved anymore. I braced myself, snarling somewhat – was I becoming Maggie? Who knew.

I was being tapped on the shoulder. I looked over, it was Ginny. Ginny grinned at me a little bit, her hair was all over the place, sticking up around her head. She had a cut down her face that looked like it was bleeding too much. I frowned at her.

“I think I know what you’re going to do,” she offered, “And I want to help.”

“You can’t fly –“ I pointed out.

“Yeah but I’ve been experimenting, and I’ve seen the Flock do this, so I was going to try it for myself,” she laughed. How was she laughing in the middle of this? We were getting trampled, literally, and there was no way we could fight back all three dragons. The rexes were occupied with just the one.

The flock – were they okay?

They better still be inside.

“Come on!” Ginny cheered. I watched her go in fascination. She transformed into a _Utahraptor_ again. She was brown in coloration, with a red crest on her head and dark purple feathers on her wings. She had a tail fan that was also dark purple, almost iridescent in its sheen. Her tail was long and rigid for balance. She was taller than a person and had a long, terrifying maw with sharp teeth. Her legs were strong and muscular, though short; her wings were full and fluffy with long claws emerging from the feathers. Her feet supported huge sickle claws, like the Flock’s, but so much bigger that looking at them made me gulp. She growled softly and flapped her wings. Before I knew what was happening, she was running forward, her short legs not able to run fast but her wings were splayed out as much as they could, her wingspan was enormous, and she actually seemed to run faster as she did this. Suddenly she was on the giant’s leg. She was running up the leg. _Up the leg_. The wings were generating just enough lift that she was _running vertically._

My eyes widened more as I watched her climb up the giant’s side. The giant was confused, and didn’t know what to do. They swung their club around madly and roared in frustration as Ginny kept up her momentum and ran up the body. She managed to reach the giant’s shoulder and began attacking the giant’s ear and jaw, slashing and biting and hissing at the giant.

I regained my composure. She needed my help. I transformed myself, flapping my wings hard and souring up into the air. I was even smaller now. How was I supposed to help when I was so small? Oh G-d my vision was different as a bird – did Maggie or Ginny ever get confused by their dinosaur-vision – everything was much more blue and there were many more colors and it hurt my eyes but I flapped and adjusted and dove at the giant.

Good. I was too small. The giant was distracted by Ginny and the people on the ground. I flew above the giant’s head and dove. The giant wasn’t even paying attention as I reached the giant’s eyes, pecking – peck peck peck peck peck. Keep pecking Hermione. Use your raven beak to gouge out this creature’s eyes. Ginny chirped appreciatively and kept slashing and clawing at the giant’s neck. I pecked and pecked and pecked and the giant tried to swat me away but they couldn’t grasp at me. I was like a gnat or a mosquito attacking a human, but I was smarter than a gnat and a giant was dumber than a human. I had a target and I was going to stick to it. I could taste blood in my beak but I ignored it, I was too busy pecking, breaking apart the membrane of the eye and ripping it to shreds. The giant screamed and lifted their arm to clutch at their eye which was now flowing with blood.

The action knocked Ginny from the giant’s shoulder. I screamed in shock as Ginny tried to flap but of course it did no good, she was too big and her wings too small. She fell to the ground with a _thunk_ , but thank Merlin, she was getting up again, limping away and hissing at the giant. She transformed back into a human and rubbed her arms and shoulders, visibly broken arms everywhere, but she was conscious, she was alive, and she was walking back around the giants, presumably to get help.

I turned and started pecking the giant’s other eye, but the giant was focused. The giant was very focused. The giant knew I was here and they knew what I could do and they knew they had to stop me. I now had to dodge their hand as they focused on me, swatting every which way with their giant paws to try and knock me out of the air. I squawked in terror and flitted about, flying high above the giant’s head. The giant’s hands were covered in blood and their eye was a river of it, and the giant appeared to be growing disoriented. Good, maybe it would –

_Swat –_

I was flying through the air –

Their hand had made contact with me –

Everything hurt, my body was too small for this –

_Ow –_

Flying flying flying –

I hit something hard –

Was that the castle?

Now everything was pain –

Everything pain where were my friends were my friends okay was Harry okay I hoped he was staying in the dungeons he was too hurt for this oh G-d was everyone okay oh G-d –

Falling, I was falling, I was supposed to fly not fall –

I crumpled to the ground, my wings bent at odd angles –

The pain was too much, I transformed back, now I was a human, with broken bones everywhere, everything hurt everything hurt everything hurt and –

And then all was black.

**MCGONAGALL POV**

** **

These kids were going to be the death of me.

Maggie – I had sent her down to the dungeons.

Harry – better be in the dungeons, he wasn’t well.

Hermione – where was she now – she was probably with Harry, in the dungeons, good.

Neville – with Maggie – definitely – in dungeons.

My kids were safe.

At the very least my kids were safe. Now to fight the giants. I had to do the trick I had been dreading. But first a defense. I ran out to the grounds. I could see Sirius, Tonks, Lupin, Kinsley, Albus, and Pomona all fighting. Good. We all needed to be here – I was glad Albus wasn’t out on one of his dozens of crusades. He needed to be at the castle more, especially now.

I ran out to help with the shield. Wave swish flick wave and done. Shield is up, at least, protecting the kids – oh no

They were running from the dungeons

_Children –_

I spun on my heel and made the shield higher. How dare this war turn children into soldiers. They should be hiding for safety not fighting for their lives. The shield was good and high and the giants would have trouble breaking it. Good. Though they probably would think to move around it.

I sighed and took off my hat. It was useless right now and I needed to fight. Stun confund stun confund stun confund stun confund. My wrist was moving at breakneck speeds just to fight them. The spells were doing no good, their skin was too thick, too rubbery, to hard to get past, and Merlin did they smell.

I saw a literal bush of brown curly hair fly by me –

“GRANGER GET BACK IN THERE!” I screamed.

I thought my kids were safe.

I thought the four of them were safe in the dungeons where the giants could not go –

Hermione faced me. She looked terrified but certain, her face was shining with sweat and she was glaring at me. I knew I wouldn’t persuade her. There was no talking Hermione out of that face.

Why were my kids all so _stubborn_.

“You can’t make me, Professor!” she shouted, confirming what I already knew. I sighed and allowed her to help with the shield. She was a brilliant witch, it wasn’t like stopping her was a bad idea, apart from her safety. She waved her wand and the shield grew taller.

_That’s my girl._

I helped her in this task, many other Order members taking the cue to go and fight the giants on the other side of the shield. Spells were flying everywhere and I looked around wildly for casualties – the students had to be brought to safety if it came to that. I could feel my hair get loose from the bun but at this point, if I lost my hair, it wouldn’t matter much to me.

I would take no hair over more dead kids.

Children screaming – I whirled around madly, looking for the source of the screaming. I couldn’t see anyone falling, which was good at the least. Perhaps we’d get out without any dead kids this time.

Hermione had fallen to the ground. She was probably having a panic attack. I moved over to her, hoping to help her up, but she got up on her own, breathing deeply and regaining her composure. Oh good – I backed away and kept the shield up, wondering when I should put my next plan into place.

Hermione was helping with the shield and even though I made one last attempt to try and get her to go to safety, glaring at her desperately, she stayed. Well there was no way to fix this problem now. I returned to shooting curses –

Stun confund stun confund stun confund stun confund –

Again they were doing no good. What could we do without the dragons?

_You need to put your plan into place._

I made a move as though to go back into the castle, when I heard roaring.

I looked over – two dinosaurs. Two, huge dinosaurs, ones I only mildly recognized. They were covered in feathers and had huge skulls that looked like they could snap me in half and swallow Hermione whole.

I groaned.

_Margaret Natalie Johnson you are receiving a month’s detentions for this._

I hadn’t even seen her leave the castle.

How had this escaped my notice? It did not matter. How did her planning to make – whatever those were – escaped my noticed?

The two dinosaurs were attacking the giant, their teeth digging into the giant’s flesh, blood pouring from the giant’s arm and hand. They were moving about erratically and dodging and running about the giant, clearly not paying attention to their surroundings. One of the dinosaurs lunged at the giant and fell back, stumbling over its own feet –

 _Why_ would she make these things for _combat_? They needed to get acclimated to our world first – climate air what have you, they were going to be disoriented and frightened and not able to follow simple commands –

Well, she had a point, I supposed, in the fact that those dinosaurs were the only things nearby large enough to actually fight the giants. It was a pretty good plan all things considered – if she had run it past me first we could have worked on it together and created them ahead of time.

Why must she assume that I was against her?

I had _always_ been on her side.

No matter – I had to help her now. Hermione had the shield under control and I didn’t know if Maggie had her dinosaurs under control. I sprinted over there as sudden one let out a loud, pained roar. It lifted up it’s foot and shook it out as though it had –

Stepped

On

Something

I ran faster. I wasn’t built for running, not at my age, but someone had to. I sprinted across the grounds, through people, towards the dinosaurs and the giants – they paid no attention to me. The dinosaurs were focused on making sure the giant was being chased away, so they chased it. At least instinct was on our side for now. I tripped over my own robes but I kept moving because I had to –

There was a body on the ground.  

I sprinted over to it, luckily the dinosaurs were far away. The body was crumpled into a heap, there was blood all around it, and the limbs were spread at odd angles.

And, of course, it was Maggie.

I wailed before I could stop myself.

Not Maggie.

How would I tell anyone? How would I keep fighting?

I had lived a long time and had suffered an immense amount of loss. I had learned that sometimes caring about my students too much put me in danger – I had learned that the most when Lily and James had died. Too many children, too many innocent and brilliant children, were being killed because of Lord Voldemort –

I would have shuddered before but now I had more pressing issues on my mind.

Not another one.

 _I’m sorry Melinda_.

I had failed her. I had not taken care of her daughter – her daughter that was also mine by now.

I ran to Maggie and knelt beside her, examining the damage. Her limbs were at odd angles, the blood was pooling from her head, I could see bones sticking up out of her limbs. I quickly checked her pulse – it was weak, but still there. I pulled out my wand and waved it over her, and at least the blood stopped flowing. I couldn’t do much else, not with the battlefield the way it was. The giants and the dinosaurs were fighting viciously in the further portion of the grounds, and the other two giants were still advancing on the castle. I gently picked Maggie up in my arms – I wasn’t going to risk levitating her, not with everything happening around and all of the chaos from the battle. I quickly ran her inside, going through a side door, sprinting up stairs and panting – I was too old for this. I was much too old for this.

But I had to get her to safety.

Eventually, after having maneuvered through the secret passages known only to professors – we had to stay at least _somewhat_ ahead of the students, after all – I managed to weave my way to the Hospital Wing. The building was shaking fiercely, causing me to nearly lose my footing more than once, but I pressed on. I had to press on.

“Minerva!” Poppy shouted in shock as I ran and placed Maggie on a bed.

“Poppy, she got stepped on by a dinosaur, please tend to her – I – I do not know how bad the damage is,” I panted, resting against the wall and wheezing.

“You should get rest – you’re barely breathing –“ Poppy protested, already getting to work on Maggie.

“No, they need me out there. I’ll be back soon enough,” I promised. I sprinted out again, running down the same passages, going out to the grounds, my heart running so fast I was briefly concerned that it would give out.

I looked around the grounds wildly – and once again I saw that one of my children had fallen.

It was Neville, and he was crumpled in a heap on the ground, a pool of blood around him too.

_No_

I ran to him as fast as I could push my limbs to do so, everything weak and shaking as I moved, running to see if he too was alive. He had the sword of Gryffindor next to him – what had he been doing? Why had I been so focused on Maggie’s safety that I neglected Neville? Oh no –

Good, he was alive. I weakly picked him up – he was much heavier. I’d have to levitate him –

A bird was soaring through the sky above my head, crashing into the castle wall and falling down the ground. I screamed in horror as the bird crumpled to the ground in a heap of wings and feathers, before transforming back into Hermione – bones broken, blood everywhere, body limp. I kept Neville aloft and ran to check on her – she was alive, thank Merlin.

I picked her up in my arms and continued levitating Neville, my heart lodged in my throat and tears in my eyes. How was I supposed to keep my children safe?

I couldn’t cry now. Now was not the time. I stopped myself, gritted my teeth and ran them up the stairs again, transfiguring two pillows to keep Neville safe from bumping into walls. Luckily Hermione was quite small – she needed to eat more, I thought – and managed to reach the Hospital Wing again, though I was definitely too out of breath now.

“Minerva! Take _care of yourself!_ ” Poppy screeched, quickly taking the children from me.

“I couldn’t – they were in danger – it is a blood bath out there, Poppy, you’re going to have more than just them!” I panted.

“Minerva – don’t go out there – _Minerva!_ ” she screeched after me as I ran away again, sprinting back down the stairs.

Well at least now all my children were somewhere safe. I could put my plan into motion at last, which I did need to immediately. I quickly ran out to the front of the castle, looking up at the two unoccupied giants, who were getting closer and closer to the walls. One had a bloody eye, blood pouring from it, while the other had a sickly green leg.

Well. My kids did something good, at least.

In the distance, the third giant was being chased away by the dinosaurs, one of them managing to cut off the giant from the front. The two were surrounding it now, roaring and biting, and it couldn’t escape from their onslaught.

I turned back to the castle and waved my wand, shouting at the top of my lungs, “ _PIERTOTUM LOCOMOTOR._ ”

I could hear them move within the castle. I couldn’t help the satisfaction that came over me – after all, I had always wanted to to use that spell. I moved out of the way as the vanguard came out, watching happily as the stone knights marched out of the castle and towards the giants. Other stone statues followed, as did suits of armor, all moving across the grounds towards the giants.

“HOGWARTS IS THREATENED,” I shouted at the top of my lungs, “PROTECT US! ATTACK THE GIANTS! DO YOUR DUTY TO OUR SCHOOL!”

The soldiers followed my order, marching through the grounds towards the giant with the bloody eye. Without depth perception, the giant resorted to wildly flinging about its club. The other giant was also getting mobbed by the stone statutes, and the clubs were flinging about, knocking the stones every which way and sending them souring through the sky. Statues were getting broken apart violently but some were making it through, slashing and attacking the giants with swords and maces and axes and any manner of medieval weaponry.

I watched them nervously, waiting for the vanguard to be demolished – I would need another plan at that point, but for now they seemed to be doing well –

One of the statues was broken apart, stone flung back everywhere, wheeling and careening in the air –

It hit me in the stomach –

I was thrown backwards –

I couldn’t breathe, the wind was knocked out of me –

I hit something with my head, hard –

And then all was black.

**HARRY POV**

** **

I had to help. I was worthless down here.

 _You’re worthless all the time_.

No I wasn’t – I wasn’t – I wasn’t – I wasn’t worthless I had to help why was I in the dungeon?

I had been here too long. I had been listening to the fighting for too long. I was worthless down here. I was worthless all the time. I was no help to anyone, not now, not after that spell – I’d be a deadweight on Hermione for the rest of our lives –

I was sobbing horrifically and I could feel blood come up out of my lungs again so I coughed it all over the floor. It was fresh blood. Hermione and I weren’t telling anyone that part. We knew we should but we were hoping it would go away.

At least thinking of Hermione made me feel not-useless. The feeling of her lips on mine made my heart lodge in my throat and my stomach swoop with happiness. The feeling of her in my arms as we slept made me warm and tingle all over. I knew she was sleeping better thanks to me. I wasn’t totally useless. I was useful for her.

I swallowed and sat back. If I went out there I’d die. That’s what they all said and it was probably true.

_You’re useless, a lump, no help to anyone –_

Stop that.

You are plenty of help.

You’re _Harry Potter_.

And you’re going to help now.

_You can barely move or breathe –_

Someone needed to help. I was not built for sitting out here in the Dungeons with the smaller kids. I needed to aid the others, they needed me. No one was better at defensive magic than I was.

_You got hit with that spell –_

It was impervious to the shield charm, you had put one up. Try again, inner voice of self-loathing. You’ll need to try harder than that.

I weakly limped out of the Dungeon. I would not stand by. I would not stand by and let my family die. Nope. Nope nope nope.

_The only thing you exist for is defeating Voldemort and you can’t even do that right –_

Oh SHUT UP

NOW IS NOT THE TIME

RUN

I couldn’t run, of course, even though I desperately wanted to. I heaved myself onto the stairs. Every inch of my body hurt but that didn’t matter. My friends could be in trouble and I had been down there for long enough –

I couldn’t help the pictures in my mind. Maggie, crumpled in a broken heap. Neville, thrown to the ground, much the same. Hermione, in a pool of her own blood –

My throat choked on a sob. I would not let that happen. I forced myself up the stairs, one step at a time, everything hurting, my limbs protesting, but I would not let that stop me. I had to keep going. I had to help. I had to help. I had to help.

I reached the top of the stairs. Well. That was exhausting. Time to go to bed.

I shook my head madly, holding it in my hands as I leaned against the wall. I took a deep breath. I coughed back up blood.

_Well at least your main element is AIR!_

Maggie was a little shit but she _had a point_ …

My arms were the things that hurt the least, though they still hurt of course. I weakly waved them about me and pulled air into my lungs, spreading it through my body. I felt almost _instantly_ better. It wasn’t the same as breathing properly, but at least there was oxygen going to my tissues. I did it again.

_Thank you Maggie_

Where would I be without my sister?

Who knows

Who knows where I’d be

Probably dead at this point

And she’d probably be dead without me

That’s how it went

We took care of each other all four of us and I wasn’t going to let them die for me. Not today. Not ever.

Not my family.

I kept breathing, my arms gaining more and more movement as I pumped air into my body. I was still weak, I was still in pain, and I knew I could have a coughing fit any minute, but at least now I could go outside and – do what? How could I help? What could I –

Air

Okay

I limped outside. The place was a bloodbath. There weren’t a lot of people left standing and there was – stones? Everywhere? There were stones everywhere they were covering the Grounds.

Where had the stones come from?

I could see now – the statues – from the castle – they had come to life and had come up to fight the giants. They were doing a good job. In the distance I saw two _Tyrannosaurus rex_ –

God dammit Maggie –

They were cornering one of the giants. I watched in pure fascination as they tore down the giant to pieces – an arm was removed, blood was everywhere – a leg was broken, blood pouring from teeth marks – the two rexes literally – pulled – the giant – apart –

Blood everywhere –

The giant’s head falling to the ground as one of the rexes ripped it from the giant’s torso, head wrapped around it, squishing it, crushing it, you could hear the crack of the bone as the dinosaur bit down as hard as it could and ripped, sinew and blood and muscle ripping from the body, bones breaking apart, cartilage torn everywhere –

Oh man I was going to be sick –

I moved more air in my body to calm myself down as the rexes started chowing down on the dead giant. Well. That was one down.

I looked around the grounds to see what was happening – I saw McGonagall, crumpled on the ground, surrounded by her own blood –

Fuck

Fuck fuck fuck fuck

Not McGonagall

She was basically our mom now –

Not McGonagall _no –_

I weakly limped over to her. She still had a pulse. I had no idea how to take care of her –

_Worthless worthless worthless worthless_

STOP

STOP STOP STOP STOP STOP

I forced more air inside of me. I stretched my limbs and wheeled them around. One of the giants was weak with blood loss from their eye. The other seemed to have a poisoned leg – it was all green and kind of gross – but they weren’t here to _survive_. They were here to break down the castle, and they could still do that, even if they were dying.

Some of the younger student fighters were screaming and running back inside. I limped past them, walking slowly forward. The Order members and older students were still around. They weren’t paying attention to me, which was good, I didn’t need them telling me to go back inside.

I swirled my arms around my head –

_OW_

God fucking dammit why didn’t I have complete range of limb motion –

Keep swirling, keep moving you can do this you’re not worthless you can do this you’re not worthless –

I spun my arms around me and I tapped into the air. It filled me up. It was me. I was air, I was freedom, I was aimless, but I didn’t need aim, I needed freedom. I moved the air forward in a huge gust. It was big enough to send the two of them backwards. They didn’t fall, they only grunted, and the other fighters looked at me in confusion.

“HARRY! GO BACK INSIDE!” Sam roared at me.

“NO!” I roared back.

Where were my family? Where was Hermione? Maggie? Neville? Where were my family? I knew Elena was inside – I knew she had protested when I left the dungeon but had not stop me – where were the others?

I grunted with pain, forced more air in my lungs, and swung my arms back and forth. I kept swinging. I had to keep swinging. The giants kept advancing, not perturbed by the wind from before anymore. I kept swinging and swinging and swinging, gathering up as much air behind me as I could.

It was taking too long.

They were getting too close.

But I kept swinging because I had to –

_You’re no use, go back inside and be an invalid like you are –_

_No one needs your help you worthless sack of garbage –_

NO

NO

THEY NEED ME

I kept swinging as they got closer. People scattered backwards. They were almost close enough to knock down parts of the castle now. I swung faster –

Fuck –

Fuck that hurt, my arms were burning –

Keep swinging Harry, come on –

Finally there was a storm of air behind me. I could hear people shouting in protest but I didn’t care. I swung the air forward and it enveloped the giants in it’s clutches, grabbing them, twisting them, sending them backwards –

Generating lift –

Huh –

I began moving the air slightly underneath me. I was being lifted up and surrounded by a cushion of air. Now it was easier to move my arms and legs again. I moved a little faster, and though it still hurt

_Ow ow ow ow ow_

I ignored the pain – worked through it – spun my arms around – made a tornado – sent the tornado towards the giants –

It spun them around like mad. As it went I gathered more air, now there was basically a whirlwind behind me, and I moved it forward. The air wooshed by me and blew through my hair, sending it all over the place, my cloak trying to drag me with the wind but I wouldn’t let it. It ran into the giants and they were knocked back again, but I wasn’t done yet. I knew we needed more. It wasn’t enough to just send them back, we had to kill them –

God I hated killing things –

And the rexes were preoccupied with dinner and wouldn’t fight another one.

I raised myself up more in the air. I needed a better view. I sent one of the tornadoes around one of the giants, swirling it about their body, confusing them with a storm of leaves and dust and rock from the stone army below. It helped – the giant was coughing, madly, disoriented from the rock. As it went, I swirled air around the other giant’s head. This was the giant with the green leg but not the bloody eye – I had to make sure to attack the bloodied eye with the dust. The giant with the dust storm was screaming in pain – good.

I swirled a whirlwind of air into a ball and surrounded it around the giant’s head. All the air around me was moving about madly because of what I was doing – even air I wasn’t directly using was being affected, and I was basically in a storm, floating in it, my hair blowing about and my cloak blowing about with it. I ignored this, grimacing in pain. I had to cough. Blood came pouring out of my mouth – that wasn’t good – but I ignored it. I had to focus.

I had to save everyone.

What good was I if I didn’t?

I kept swirling the ball of air around the giant’s head, gaining momentum. The giant began to choke, holding onto their neck, gagging as I started to use the energy and the pressure differences to pull air out of the giant’s lungs –

Out –

Out –

Out –

The air swam out of the lungs in a stream, going into my air ball, and I started removing the air around the giant’s face, until finally there were two spheres – a sphere of no air around the giant, and then a sphere of air around that, swirling about like crazy.

I kept moving my arms around me and gritting my teeth.

_You’re not going to succeed, you’re worthless, the giant’s not going to die, you sack of crap –_

NO

NO

NO

I kept pulling out air, the stream going through the airless pocket, until finally there was no air left. The giant was left, suffocating, in the airless pocket, until finally it collapsed, falling over. I kept the pocket around it, until I was sure the giant was dead – they weren’t breathing, moving, or even twitching. I managed to gently move myself down to check – no pulse, no heartbeat.

My heart was pounding ridiculously fast and I knew I had to cough again or even through up but I had to keep going because there was _another fucking giant_.

I felt sick and dizzy but I had to keep working –

I swirled the dust faster around the other giant, lifting myself up into the air to stare at it closer. It was coughing like mad and weak, falling backwards and stumbling over itself. I quickly moved a gust of air into it, sending it backwards towards the grounds rather than the castle. The giant stumbled but remained aloft, coughing and gagging on all the dust.

Time to suffocate it.

I created the ball quicker this time, but the energy was taking so much out of me. I couldn’t think straight anymore. I was sweating like mad and holding back a million coughs. I could barely keep myself aloft.

_Worthless invalid –_

SHUT UP

JUST SHUT UP

I kept focusing, creating the vacuum inside the air bubble, air coming out of the giant’s lungs, tainted with dust and rocks – the giant actually coughed from the pain, making it go faster, which was good, because I was going to fall at any second, I could barely focus –

I kept moving the air out as I started tumbling to the ground

_COME ON, DIE_

I flew through the air, crashing into the ground, but I managed to use what little energy I had left to soften my fall. I crumpled against the ground, looking up hopefully. The giant wasn’t dead yet and my air ball was gone – but it was clearly suffocating – coughing and falling backwards and sputtering –

_Oh please oh please oh please oh please –_

I could see the remaining stone army advance on the giant. They pushed it back. Blood was pouring from its legs and feet and eye and it was coughing too much, but it wasn’t falling. It was overwhelmed – it wouldn’t take much –

I summoned the last of my energy and sent air swooping towards the giant, a giant tornado again, and it spun the giant about, sending it back from the grounds, flying through the grounds –

Into the lake –

It sunk and did not come back up.

I watched, leaning on my hands, kneeling against the ground, my hair plastered all over my face. I coughed – so much blood came out of my lungs.

I squeezed my eyes shut and kept myself in the present.

People were cheering all around me and I could feel someone trying to help me up.

I coughed again, blood dribbling out of my mouth, but I managed to weakly open my eyes and look around. The dust was clearing, the sky was shining, there was sun over the bloodied and destroyed grounds –

And everything was light

**NEXT CHAPTER WE WILL BE BACK TO MAGGIE**

** **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Most other POV stuff will remain one shots and deleted scenes, but this was so critical to the plot that I felt it needed to go in. So really critical other people POV things will be Intermissions - there won't be many, but this won't be the last. 
> 
> PLEASE COMMENT
> 
> Thank you!
> 
> (Also I added the sims of the characters to help with the fact that it was transitioning between POVs. I have tons more on my Deviantart.)


	115. Chapter One Hundred and Thirteen: December 23-24, 1996, Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Day after day I'm waiting  
> Sitting around here poised and ready  
> Why do I feel so numb?  
> Heal me now  
> Still when I feel most lonely  
> There will be people all around me  
> Shuffling past my eyes  
> So I love in my head  
> Regrets  
> Leave 'em on the floor  
> Wrap 'em In an old black sheet  
> I'm gonna set it all ablaze  
> Watch it burn to ash and dust  
> Looking for a sign  
> Karma's coming back for us."  
> ~ Tinashe, "The Leap"

Chapter 113: December 23-24, 1996, Hogwarts

**MAGGIE POV**

Everything hurt.

Everything.

Holy shit everything hurt so much.

I could barely seem to move – ow – ow ow – crap – what had _happened_ to me?

Right, Omega had stepped on me. God dammit Omega. I could feel my arms ache, my chest ache, my legs ache, my hips ache, everything ached – my head ached _especially_. How long had I even been unconscious? Everything was so stiff as well I could barely move.

Right, opening my eyes – probably the first thing to do. Probably a good idea. I shifted somewhat, but it was hard to do anything – I could barely move any of my limbs. Eyes. Eyes had to open first, of course. I knew that.

I couldn’t hear much of where I was – was I still in trouble? Was the battle still going on? I could barely feel my limbs, so I really hoped the battle wasn’t happening – where was I?

Well whatever I was lying on was comfortable at least. Was I on a bed? I hoped I was on a bed. I shifted and tried to listen more, but I still couldn’t hear much. Despite the pain literally coursing through every inch of me, I managed to finally, weakly, open my eyes.

The light in the room was blinding; I could barely handle it, so I quickly shut my eyes again. I didn’t really need more pain. However, my curiosity as to what had happened, and where I was, was too great. I weakly opened my eyes again, squinting into the light of the room –

I was in the Hospital Wing.

Figures.

I looked around tiredly, though my neck hurt so much it was almost impossible to move it. Was I in real pain or was it just stuff? I looked over to the chair next to me – no one was there. I weakly looked to the other side – no one was there either.

Where… were… they?

Panic entered my soul and crushed my heart – had Neville died? Did Neville die? Oh god no, no, no – no – did Neville die – no – did Hermione and Harry die too? Did everyone I love die? Oh no oh no oh no oh no –

I started crying, but to do so hurt much too much. I couldn’t stop it though, as the tears streamed down my cheeks and onto my shoulders. I could barely move, but I knew I had to try. I had to get up and throw myself from some high height. Oh god no –

“Miss Johnson!”

I looked up, tears still streaming down my face, to see Pomfrey running over to me. Great.

“What _are_ you doing?” she demanded.

“Trying to get up,” I managed to weakly say – my throat felt much too weird. Why did my throat feel so weird? How long had it been since I talked?

“No no, you need to stay put,” she scolded, gently pressing me back down onto the bed, “I need to check on your head –“

“My – my head?”

“You hit your head extraordinarily hard when you were stepped on –“

“How did I _hit my head_ when –“

“You were pushed into the ground, and there was an unfortunate rock. Please sit still,” she urged.

“What about the battle – is it still happening? What’s going on?” I demanded. My heart was still clenched. Where were they? They were dead. They had to be dead.

“The battle ended _weeks_ ago. You’ve been unconscious for more than two weeks,” Pomfrey explained brusquely.

“I – what?”

“You hit your head fairly badly. The rest of your body is mostly just stiff – you being unconscious has allowed you to recover fairly well.”

“I hurt everywhere…”

“I didn’t say you were _recovered_ , just that you were recovering _well_. Unlike your fool of a brother you need to keep up that progress –“

“Where is he? Where is everyone?” I demanded, my heart lodged in my throat.

“I made them all get dinner. They hadn’t been eating for days,” Pomfrey explained, “I forced them to start leaving for meals about a week ago.”

“Why wouldn’t they – couldn’t you have fed them here? I thought they were dead,” I choked out.

“It was more healthy for them to leave the Hospital Wing. They have absolutely refused to leave the entire time you’ve been in here,” Pomfrey snapped.

I didn’t argue further, I just swallowed as she continued to wave her wand over me. I had to stop panicking – they were okay. Pomfrey wouldn’t lie about that.

“Well you seem to be doing well. I’m pleased you’ve woken up – we were – we were all a bit worried. I didn’t know why you hadn’t woken up, and, well, there isn’t exactly a doctor on hand – your injury wasn’t magical based and non of my spells or tests could explain what was wrong,” Pomfrey explained.

“I… do you know now that I am awake?” I asked, frowning.

“No, but I’ll continue to do tests,” Pomfrey reassured.

“I… er…” I swallowed, “When can I get out of here?”

Pomfrey let out a heavy sigh.

“Well your bones are nearly completely mended. I want to pinpoint what happened in your head but in theory you should be able to leave fairly soon, though you’ll be in pain for a long while, and I don’t know why you would,” Pomfrey glared at me.

“I have been in here for two weeks?” I suggested. Pomfrey humphed, but said nothing further, just continuing to check up on me.

“MAGGIE”

I looked up and I could feel tears feel my eyes – it was one thing to be told they were okay, it was another thing to see it. Neville was in the doorway, looking like he had been crying for weeks, and he immediately ran to me. He had a noticeable limp though, and was grimacing with every step.

“What – Nev – what happened to –“ I managed to choke out, but before I could finish he had thrown himself on me on the bed, wrapping his arms tightly around me. Pomfrey let out another sound of disgruntlement before walking away, clearly having given up. Neville practically crushed me as he threw himself on top of me, but that was okay, because I couldn’t even begin to imagine how he had felt for two weeks. He was sobbing extremely hard into my shoulder, and I weakly wrapped my arms around him, soothing him and rubbing his back. I could see that Harry and Hermione were sobbing behind us, Harry holding Hermione tightly too him. He looked sickly – and Hermione also looked like she had been through hell.

“What’s happened?” I asked weakly, “I’m so confused –“

“Oh Maggie it’s been awful,” Hermione managed to choke out.

“You’ve been out for two weeks, and – and –“ Harry started coughing. Hermione immediately reached for a bowl at the foot of the bed next to me, and Harry coughed up – _fresh blood?_

“Harry what –“ I demanded. Neville was still sobbing.

“Give Neville a minute,” Harry urged. I held Neville as tightly as I could as he sobbed heavier and heavier, before pulling back to look at me and stroke my face.

“I thought you w-were d-d-dying,” he choked out.

“Oh Nev, I’m so sorry,” I whispered, weakly reaching to hold his face in my hands, “Oh Nev –“

“I thought you were d-d-dead and the last thing we had said was – was – shouting about – what you would d-do – I – I love you I love you I love you I love you –“ Neville rambled out.

“Nev,” I breathed, kissing him passionately, him still sobbing horrifically, “Neville I love you, but you need to breathe.”

He nodded, sobbing still, wiping his eyes off on his hands and climbing into the bed next to me. I immediately shifted, though every bit of me was stiff and in pain, to rest my head on his chest. He wrapped his arms tightly around me and squeezed as much as he could.

“So – what happened?” I asked weakly.

“It was a bloodbath,” Hermione sighed, sitting at the foot of my bed, Harry joining her. All of them looked to be in immense pain.

“To be honest, Maggie, you weren’t the only person to be knocked out, but for some reason you stayed so, which is – well – why we’ve been worried sick,” Harry admitted.

“Pomfrey doesn’t know why –“ I muttered.

“Still? Bloody hell,” Harry grunted.

“So – what happened?” I asked softly.

“Well you were stepped on by one of your rexes,” Hermione sighed.

“Yes, I’m aware,” I rolled my eyes, before suddenly panicking, sitting up slightly, “What happened to –“

“Well, McGonagall got knocked out too,” Harry grimaced.

“So at first – I don’t know – Harry was the only one of us to stay conscious, somehow…” Hermione sighed.

“Well yeah, because he was in the dungeon, right?” I asked.

“Er…” Harry frowned.

“Harry did the dumb thing and left the dungeon. Luckily he did, otherwise we’d all be dead,” Neville murmured softly in my ear, apparently having managed to finish crying.

“Okay I am so confused,” I groaned, holding my head in my hands.

“Sorry,” Neville mumbled, kissing the top of my head.

“Basically this is what happened, as far as I am aware – you made the rexes. The rexes knocked you out. They continued to fight one of the giants, eventually killing that giant and eating it,” Harry explained, coughing a little, though no blood came out, “In the meantime, Neville was literally hacking at one of the giants with the sword of Gryffindor –“

“ _What –_ “

“It’s infused with basilisk venom which is one of the few things that can actually kill a giant? So he managed to weaken it but for some reason –“

“Basically the giant was sweating a lot because of how hot it was,” Neville sighed, “So its club slipped out of its hand, hit me, and sent me flying into a wall.”

“So then Neville was out. Hermione meanwhile had transformed into a bird and was literally gouging out the other giant’s eye, with Ginny attacking the giant’s neck,” Harry continued, “But the giant managed to swat both of them off – Ginny’s okay, but Hermione was knocked through the air and –“

His voice choked and Hermione gently held him closer to him, squeezing her arms around him.

“It’s okay – I’m okay –“

“Hermione hit the wall of the castle and fell. So then she was out,” Neville explained quietly.

“McGonagall meanwhile had collected all of our bodies – for lack of a better word here – and had _enchanted the stone statues_ to attack the giants, so they were doing that, but one of the giants knocked the statues with its club and the dust and debris went everywhere, so McGonagall was knocked out too…” Hermione sighed.

“So then,” Harry managed to regain himself, sniffling and wiping off his eyes, “I managed to pull myself out of the dungeons – I just – I knew things were going to hell and I needed to help – “

“You were really stupid – and really brave,” Hermione murmured, gently nestling against his chest, him wrapping his arms tightly around her.

“I managed to use air elementalism to breathe – basically forced oxygen through my body and I felt loads better – but turns out I did too much of it and too aggressively? So… I er…” Harry flushed madly.

“Idiot nearly killed himself,” Neville muttered.

“I aggravated the progress my lungs had made and accidentally broke open a lot of wounds,” Harry admitted, “So I was coughing up a _lot_ of blood.” Hermione squeezed him tighter, crying somewhat.

“But anyway – I used wind to – to knock the giants back a bit, and then I suffocated one of them by removing their air, but I was too weak to do that to second one, so I just threw a shitton of dust into their eyes, and that seemed to blind them, so I just knocked them back with air and they died too… I actually didn’t pass out! Which was good!” Harry offered.

“You just nearly coughed up all the blood in your body,” Neville sighed.

“So then I was taken to the Hospital Wing too, and Pomfrey revived McGonagall quickly because the rexes were now eating… _all_ the giant bodies, and there was apparently a lot of blood and guts out on the Grounds and it was smelling horrible,” Harry grimaced.

“So then McGonagall – who was super weak and needed to rest but no one else knew how to calm your damn dinosaurs –“ Hermione rolled her eyes.

“She went down to the grounds and basically yelled – crap – what did Ginny say,” Harry frowned.

“Apparently she shouted, ‘DOWN. NOW. GO TO THE OTHER SIDE OF THE LAKE. NOW,’” Neville offered behind me.

“And they did! They totally walked to the other side of the lake and sat down! And since then she’s been making sure they behave and everything – they won’t eat the students for whatever reason,” Harry frowned.

“It’s cause,” I grunted, I was still in a lot of pain and horrifically stiff, “It’s cause they aren’t hungry. I’m assuming she’s feeding them well.”

“Yup,” Hermione nodded.

“Yeah, they aren’t hungry, and given that humans smell like rodents to them, since they don’t have eggs or anything that would be threatened by rodents, you’re not worth chasing after,” I grunted.

“What happens if they have eggs?” Neville asked worriedly.

“Er… all hell breaks loose because now they have to protect them,” I admitted.

“And you transformed a male and female raven _because?_ ” Hermione demanded.

“Those were the two we were training, any others would have been out of my and McGonagall’s control,” I murmured softly.

“Alright,” Harry sighed.

“Yeah, okay, fine,” Hermione rolled her eyes, “But why were you training them?”

“To be an herbivore – _Therizinosaurus_ ,” I explained sheepishly, “I bet McGonagall is right cross with me.”

“Oh you have no idea,” Harry chortled.

“When the new term starts you have detention for a month,” Hermione explained.

“Wanted to wait till you woke up and were recovered to assign it,” Neville sighed.

“So then… what happened?” I asked tiredly.

“Well whenever she wasn’t wrangling the rexes, McGonagall would rest in here. And I was stuck here too,” Harry continued, “Hermione and Neville were out too, but only for a week…”

“When we woke up, that was when Pomfrey was getting really worried about you,” Neville mumbled, “She was fretting all the time. Even though we could leave – and so could Harry – we refused, because…”

“Because we were all worried you’d die at any moment,” Hermione whispered, before bursting into tears in her hands.

“McGonagall only got out yesterday; she’s been trying to get the rexes to carve out an obvious territory, though we thought you would die which would…. Well, render it moot,” Harry sighed.

“Moot?” I asked tiredly.

“All the spells cast by someone reverse when that person dies,” Hermione explained softly.

I sat up in a panic, “How do you make a spell permanent – like – Hogwarts has all these ancient enchantments – how do you –“

“Why are you freaking out? You’re alive,” Harry looked at me in shock.

“Not – I mean – I am – but I could die – this is war, this isn’t the first time this has happened and it won’t be the last –“ I rambled.

“The rexes reverting is _probably_ a good thing,” Hermione frowned.

“The _Flock_ ,” I sobbed.

“Oh,” Harry whispered.

“We’ll figure it out – I’m sure McGonagall will have an idea –“ Hermione reassured.

“We won’t let that happen, Maggie, I promise,” Neville whispered softly. I started sobbing more heavily, crippled with the idea that I could have died and left them all confused and back to being ravens, disoriented, without me, crippled me with terror –

The thought of having left Neville alone, without me, crippled me with terror –

I couldn’t stop sobbing; Neville wrapped his arms tighter around me and held me as close to him as he could. Hermione and Harry were crying too, scooting over to hug us and join the cuddle pile. It was different when all of us were paired up – Hermione and I had never shied away from cuddles, and now Harry was cuddling extensively with Hermione, and Neville with me, so somehow it was the closest cuddle pile we had achieved to date.

“It’s okay, we’re all okay,” Hermione managed to whisper.

“Just barely,” Neville mumbled.

“Let’s – let’s stop focusing on that. What’s happened while I’ve been out?” I asked tiredly.

“Yes,” Hermione agreed, “Yes, let’s talk about anything else.”

“Well,” Harry paused, “Hermione and I have our own room now.”

“Oh Merlin,” I laughed.

“McGonagall didn’t even ask why, she just made the room and told us to keep bloody quiet about it,” Harry snorted.

“I think she doesn’t want to have every couple asking her for the same,” Hermione giggled.

“Where is it?” I asked curiously.

“In a different hallway from you two – didn’t want to attract suspicion. It’s up on the same floor as Dumbledore’s office, actually – Dumbledore requested it in case he needs me immediately,” Harry shrugged.

“Voldemort missions?” I asked tiredly.

“Voldemort missions,” Harry nodded.

“Let’s see… well the defeat was a crushing blow, actually,” Hermione grinned, “Because all the rest of the giants are being held back in the northern islands. So they can’t get any giants through, and there’s no way the Death Eaters can get through to the castle. So we actually think – they might be stopping their fight for now?”

“You’re kidding – the siege is over?” I gasped.

“Well, for now anyway,” Hermione sighed, “They’re attacking cities and towns across the UK instead.”

“Oh _no_ ,” I groaned.

“Isolated incidents of violence are breaking out everywhere – they’re trying to increase the fear that’s been brewing since the Ministry went through that power turnover, and the badges, and the Backlash versus Rebellion conflicts got worse…” Harry sighed.

“What’s – been happening in the Ministry?” I asked worriedly.

“Well there has been _some_ new of the elected positions who are sympathetic to our cause – even one rebellion member apparently got elected, from the Edinburgh district, Ernie’s dad,” Hermione beamed.

“He got elected because he was pureblood and rebellion, and the Edinburgh area is sympathetic to us on the whole. Most Backlash insurrections are quickly chased away,” Harry continued.

“Wouldn’t he have been a pureblood permanent member?” I asked in confusion.

“The official MacMillan representative is Ernie’s great-aunt, Wilfrid,” Hermione shrugged, “She’s Dumbledore-sympathetic but not Rebellion – though she’s sympathetic? At any rate she was already in office.”

“Ah,” I frowned, “Anyone else?”

“Just people who side with Dumbledore but aren’t outright Rebellion members,” Harry sighed, “Other than that, most of the people elected are just the same as the people they replaced.”

“Well, a little victory,” I groaned.

“No new policies have been enacted, but at least Amelia Bones released a formal statement saying it was illegal to discriminate based on the badges and anyone found doing so will be heavily fined – and we’re not in trouble for the bar fight, either,” Harry offered.

“That’s… good,” I grimaced.

“But no one appears to be following it and a lot of the time it doesn’t get reported – and sometimes when the discrimination is reported the person who it is reported to doesn’t care because the Ministry is still filled with shitheads,” Neville muttered into my hair.

“Yeah,” Hermione sighed.

“Well, a little change is better than none,” I mumbled, “What else has happened?”

“Oh, well, the Trans Clinics were actually not reaching out to muggleborns – who are actually the most vulnerable, since usually the Ministry sweeps in, does all these changes, and explains nothing or very little to the bloody parents – just ‘your kid’s a wizard’ and ‘this will help them be happy in the future. They are a boy or a girl now.’ So Justin Finch-Fletchley’s been going round – got the list of trans pre-Hogwarts kids from Ernie’s Dad – and since he’s a muggleborn and trans himself he’s been explaining to new parents of trans babies what’s happening, and taking kids who were going through therapy and surgeries to the clinics. So he’s become way more involved because of that,” Harry explained.

“Yeah, we forgot about the muggleborns, I’m honestly ashamed,” Hermione sighed.

“Well at least it’s being fixed now – but is there enough money for surgeries?” I frowned.

“We help as much as we can, but that one we usually need the parents to help out some,” Hermione admitted.

“We’re holding another bake sale to raise more money for it – magic makes it cheaper at least,” Neville explained.

“I also confess I forgot Justin was trans,” I admitted.

“It’s easy to forget when you’re so completely made to pass,” Hermione rolled her eyes.

“How are Ron and Luna doing with the clinics?” I asked.

“They’re a flawless team, actually,” Harry frowned, “It’s weird – I thought he thought her weird and she thought him mean.”

“I think they still do, but they work well together on this,” Hermione rolled her eyes, “At any rate, yeah, they’ve been doing great work in gathering funds and keeping order, so there haven’t been really any problems with the clinics.”

“Ernie’s been helping too, but mostly he’s been with Sam,” Harry rolled his eyes.

“Really? Not that I’m surprised,” I snorted.

“Yeah, they’re nauseating,” Hermione sighed, “More so than any of us, it’s official, you and Neville are _not_ the grossest.”

“Oh thank god,” I giggled.

Neville just held me tighter, burying his face further into my hair.

“I keep running into them snogging everywhere in various states of undress,” Harry muttered, “Look, I’m a straight bloke, I do _not_ need to _see_ that.”

“As an asexual I agree,” Hermione sighed.

“I haven’t really left enough to notice much,” Neville mumbled.

“Course not,” Harry agreed.

“So… what else?” I asked.

“Er… well, Malfoy got seriously injured in the battle,” Harry offered.

“You’re kidding,” I frowned.

“Nope,” Harry sighed, “Like, he was in the Hospital Wing with us for a good portion of the time.”

“I think he was in shock that the Death Eaters didn’t warn him about the attack or try to help him,” Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Also – confirmed, Death Eater sympathizers and those associated with them have lime green boxes for the last on the badge,” Harry explained.

“I bet he didn’t say he was a Death Eater,” I muttered.

“Nope, but his dad’s in jail, and his mum’s been attacking Hogwarts, so he gets branded,” Hermione snorted, “Sorry, I just don’t have any pity for him.”

“Obviously not,” I agreed tiredly. My head hurt from all the light and new information.

“So he’s been in shock that he got so violently hurt – I think some of the debris from one of the giants smashing a stone statue knocked him out – and he actually has finally opened up to someone,” Harry admitted, looking still shocked by the information.

“Really? Who? I thought I had fucked that up permanently,” I frowned in amazement.

“Valerie actually,” Harry explained, “Makes sense, since she doesn’t associate with _us_ much.”

“She tried to talk to him when she came by with Claire to visit us, and he actually agreed to,” Hermione paused, “I think they’ve talked before.”

“Claire said that they didn’t outright _hate_ each other when doing prefect stuff,” Neville muttered.

“Claire _also_ won’t reveal what they talk about – only that Malfoy has told Valerie what’s happening with him, and that they’ve been talking a lot about it in private,” Harry grumbled.

“She doesn’t know what’s happening I think, either,” Hermione sighed.

“That’s fair,” Harry agreed, “Valerie has been extremely secretive about it. I don’t think she wants to lose Malfoy’s trust, and who can blame her.”

“Well I guess that’s good?” I offered.

“Yeah. And that’s still going on because neither have left the castle for the holidays,” Harry shrugged.

“Oh right – I guess – it _would_ almost be the holidays wouldn’t it?” I asked.

“Maggie, it’s December 23rd,” Hermione smirked.

“It _is_ the holidays,” Harry rolled his eyes.

“Bloody hell,” I groaned.

“Most people have stayed behind because of all the attacks in other cities – it’s actually safer to be here now, somehow,” Hermione frowned.

“I think the threat of the rexes, plus the fact that we managed to fend off three giants without any dragons, scared the shit out of the Death Eaters,” Harry beamed proudly.

“You’re probably right,” Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Were there any casualties?” I asked worriedly.

“No, actually, which is _also_ why we scared the shit out of them – plenty of people _nearly_ died, but none of them had a mortal blow,” Harry explained.

“You finished the fight rather quickly, Harry, there wasn’t time for them to kill anyone,” Hermione snorted.

“You’re _welcome_ , Hogwarts,” Harry cheered, before coughing madly. Hermione grabbed the bowl and, as Harry coughed up more blood, flicked him.

“Take it easy, we want your lungs to bloody well _heal_ ,” she scolded.

“Yes Mione,” Harry sighed.

Hermione looked over at the clock, frowning, “It’s getting rather late. Perhaps we should go, Harry.”

“Yeah, alright. It’ll be nice to sleep in a full bed rather than in one of these. Goodnight, guys,” Harry hugged both of us. Hermione quickly followed suit.

“I’m so glad you’re awake, Maggie,” she murmured softly.

“I am too,” I nodded tiredly. They both left the room, turning out most of the candle lights behind them. I immediately started to grow very sleepy, but Neville was actively sobbing into my hair.

“Nev – Nev it’s okay, I’m alive,” I whispered, weakly turning around in the dark. I was in so much pain as I did so that I actively grunted with it, making Neville sob harder.

“Maggie – Maggie – Maggie I thought you were _dead_ ,” he sobbed, “For _two weeks_.”

“I know,” I whispered, gently holding his head against mine and wiping away the tears from his eyes, “Oh I know, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I didn’t know that that would happen –“

“I kn-know,” Neville whimpered, “I kn-know. I’m not m-m-m-mad.”

“I – then – let’s celebrate that I’m alive, okay? Please, oh Nev, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry –“

He just held me as tightly as he could and sobbed into my shoulder, shaking with emotion and running his hands over every inch of me. I sobbed with him, thinking of him having also nearly died and me not even _knowing_ – I could have very easily woken up and have all my friends _actually_ be dead.

“Neville, it’s okay, it’s going to be okay,” I promised, kissing the top of his head as he nestled against my chest.

“Maggie?” he whispered quietly.

“Yeah?” I answered, stroking his very long curls – he must have been neglecting to cut them, they were now down to his shoulder blades.

“Can we promise to have the last words we s-s-say to each other before a battle be I love you? Please? I can’t – I can’t handle – I couldn’t handle that the last thing I h-h-had done was yell at you,” Neville mumbled.

“I promise,” I agreed softly, kissing him on the top of the head, “I absolutely promise, from now on, whenever a battle starts we’ll say it right away.”

“Thank you,” he whispered. I held him tighter again, rubbing his back with my hands soothingly.

“How are you doing? For pain?” I asked him softly.

“Probably better than you,” he actually managed to laugh weakly, but he was still obviously sobbing heavily into my chest, my hospital robes soaked through with his tears.

“Still,” I mumbled, “I – I wasn’t – I briefly thought you had died when I woke up and you weren’t here –“

“Oh _no_ ,” Neville moaned, “Oh no oh no oh no – I knew it – I knew this would happen if I left for even a second – damn Pomfrey –“

“It’s okay, I know you’re okay now,” I reassured softly.

“Oh god – oh god Maggie I’ve been so scared – s-s-so scared,” Neville whimpered, “I actually – I only left to check on the Flock. And I’d always – be t-t-terrified – that they’d transform into ravens right before my eyes –“

“Well they didn’t, I’m here, I’m alive,” I whispered.

“Don’t leave me,” he begged, sobbing somehow even more, his tears so numerous and thick that I was actually soaked on my skin.

“I’ll try, love, Neville I will try, I promise, I will do everything I can, you know this,” urged, holding him as tightly as I can.

“D-Don’t leave me,” he begged again, sobbing so hard I was worried his eyes would fall out, “P-please please don’t – please don’t – I don’t know what I would – what I would do without you Maggie I know this is unhealthy I just I can’t I – please – please don’t die –“

“I promise, Neville, Neville I promise, I love you, I promise,” I whispered.

“I love you,” he responded, and he was clearly trying to calm himself down, breathing slowly and crying softly and silently against my chest. I resumed stroking his hair, murmuring softly, “I love you, I’m not going anywhere, I love you, I’m not going anywhere, I love you, I’m not going anywhere.”

It didn’t matter if that was a lie, or something I couldn’t promise – I had to say it. He needed to hear it, and I had no other comfort to give.

It was a long time that we sat there like that. I was so overwhelmed with everything that had happened that day that I was almost falling asleep against him, gently nestling him against my chest and resting my head on top of his.

“Maggie?” he asked after a while, his voice quiet and hoarse.

“Neville?” I responded softly, pulling his head up to look at him, the light from the stars and the moon and the few candles left lit around it illuminating his puffy eyes, tear streaked face and tired expression. He looked so tired. I reached out to stroke his face, gently massaging his cheek with my thumb.

“Carpe diem,” he whispered. I felt my eyes widen in shock; my heart pounded loudly in my ears.

“N- _now?_ ” I asked.

“No – not – now,” Neville shook his head madly, “No just – when you get out. Unless you don’t –“

“Yes,” I whispered, “Yes, I want to try.”

“Okay,” Neville nodded, leaning in to kiss me lovingly, his arms tight around me. I squeaked in pain and he loosened his grip, but remained tightly coiled around me, crying again now.

“I’m sorry – that was inappropriate – I swear my only thought when I though you’d die wasn’t that we hadn’t – in fact I don’t think I thought about it _once_ , only losing you –“ Neville whispered.

“I didn’t think it was the only thing on your mind, Neville, don’t worry,” I reassured softly, “I understand completely. You just spent hours sobbing over me – obviously I don’t think that was the only thing you thought.”

“Thanks,” Neville whispered weakly.  

“I love you Neville,” I murmured. He kissed me again, gently stroking my hair and staring into my eyes.

“I love you Maggie,” he whispered, “We should – sleep.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. I gently nestled up against him, him curling up around me as close as he could as we lay down together, and I very quickly drifted off to sleep again.

I was very relieved when I woke up – the last thing I needed to do was fall unconscious again. Neville refused to let go of me as I shifted awake in the morning, looking around weakly as Pomfrey ran over with breakfast.

“Good, you’re up – eat, eat, you need to eat,” she urged.

“What – what’s wrong?” I asked nervously.

“Nothing, I just think I have a breakthrough on why you were unconscious for so long – one moment – eat while I do tests,” she insisted. I nodded, nibbling on the toast and bacon she had brought, and I realized at last how hungry I was – it made sense, but my stomach felt more empty than it had ever been. I quickly scarfed down the bacon and toast as fast as I could, disappointed to see that it was all gone when I had finished.

“Yes – yes – thank Merlin I figured it out. Took some muggle textbooks to do so, but finally figured it out,” Pomfrey breathed. Neville was stirring awake next to me.

“So – what happened?” I asked nervously.

“Sometimes the mind does weird things to protect itself – your body – you weren’t in a coma, I tested for that, but your mind shut down to allow your body the time to heal its injuries,” Pomfrey explained, “You didn’t hurt your head much at all but the rest of you was _so_ under stress that you had a sort of self-induced, near-coma to protect yourself.”

“Would I have woken up or is this a miracle?” I asked tiredly.

“Yes,” Pomfrey nodded, “You just took your time.”

“When can I – when can I leave?” I asked softly.

“Tomorrow, after you’ve practiced walking today,” Pomfrey paused, “Most of your injuried have mainly healed, now it’s about getting used to moving around again, and becoming un-stiff.”

“Gotcha,” I nodded, swallowing. I was overwhelmed with everything and tired.

“For now get rest, we’ll practice later on,” she reassured. I nestled up against Neville, who held me tightly to him, resting his head in my shoulder.

“I love you, and I’m so glad you’re okay,” Neville murmured.

“So am I,” I agreed, “I was worried.”

“Let’s not think about it anymore, I – I can’t. I have to – move on,” he whispered.

“Okay,” I agreed again, “Okay, Nev, okay.”

We laid there together, as close as we could, for most of the rest of the morning, before the calvary came in.

“YOU’RE UP!”

I looked up weakly to see Elena, Claire, Ginny, Nadia, Sam, Ernie, Harry, and Hermione all run in, beaming at us excitedly.

“We managed to keep them out this long but there was no holding them back anymore,” Hermione sighed.

“They _saw_ how much of a wreck Neville was and yet –“ Harry rolled his eyes.

“Come off it, she’s our friend too,” Ernie snorted.

“Lots of people want to see you, but we had to keep it limited – don’t want to overwhelm you,” Hermione continued.

“I’m glad to see you all, and that you’re okay,” I smiled weakly, hugging all of them as they came over. Neville sat up, clearly disgruntled that our infinite cuddles had been interrupted. His hold around me tightened as we shifted so I was sitting in his lap.

“I mean, we just hid underground while the fighting happened,” Elena rolled her eyes, pointing at herself and Claire.

“I fell from a giant! But I did run up one like the Flock will run up walls – man, I gotta thank them for that,” Ginny grinned.

“Nearly died doing it,” Nadia muttered.

“But I’m fine!” she beamed, kissing Nadia rather passionately in front of all of us. Nadia squeaked in surprise, immediately blushing furiously as Ginny pulled away, fixing her hijab and looking as red as a tomato.

“Nadia did _not_ almost get killed,” Sam rolled his eyes.

“Because I was just fighting with normal spells like a normal witch, unlike the rest of you nerds,” Nadia rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, we were using elementalism to help Harry out,” Ernie shrugged, pointing to himself and Sam.

“It worked, too – didn’t notice at the time, but thank you,” Harry nodded.

“You were delirious and dying, of course you didn’t notice,” Sam snorted.

“But we used water and earth to weaken the giants further. It was a huge team effort all around, really. None of us could have defeated them without each other,” Ernie beamed.

“Yes it was a jolly good time in which we all nearly died,” Neville muttered.

“Excuse your partner’s sullenness, he’s been a wreck for two weeks,” Elena sighed.

“I don’t mind at all,” I whispered, holding to him tightly.

“Er, news – anything you gusy didn’t cover?” Nadia asked Harry.

“No, we got most things about general news,” Harry shrugged.

“Oh – met Nadia’s parents!” Ginny beamed.

“Right, didn’t get to that,” Hermione rolled her eyes.

“How’d it go?” I asked tiredly.

“Pretty well – I mean – it was obvious that if I was a boy and non-Muslim, or a Muslim girl, her dad would have been _much_ less sullen – but he was clearly trying, which is good,” Ginny nodded.

“And mum was great – very accepting and happy. And my younger siblings were happy to see me, too,’ Nadia smiled, tears coming from her eyes and smearing her glasses.

“We had a dinner that… did not agree with my white-person stomach, and we talked, and I told them about myself and my family, and then we said goodnight, and no major incidents arose!” Ginny beamed.

“It was a real success,” Nadia nodded, “Next challenge – I’ve already met Ginny’s mum and the family members I could at the time…”

“When was that again?” I asked, frowning, “I don’t remember…”

“Oh early on,” Nadia admitted, “When we were keeping the relationship relatively quiet actually.”

“Or at least when we were just flirting, actually,” Ginny frowned, “I remembered I wanted to introduce you before I told Mum we were dating, and I knew it was coming…”

“Right, right,” Nadia nodded.

“Anyways, the next challenge is having both of our families in the same room, together,” Ginny grimaced.

“It’ll be… interesting,” Nadia agreed.

“Oh dear – good luck,” I sighed.

“Yeah. We’re going to for New Years we think,” Ginny nodded.

“A holiday that matters little to both of our families,” Nadia snorted.

I rolled my eyes and smiled, “Anything else?”

“Nope,” Sam shrugged, “It’s been quiet. Most people have just been recovering.”

“That’s good,” I agreed softly.

“So when do you get out?” Ernie asked.

“Tomorrow,” I explained, “Just have to walk around some today.”

“Might as well start now when there are a dozen people watching so you won’t fall!” Elena urged.

“Right, that’s a great idea,” I rolled my eyes.

“Actually,” Pomfrey peeked her head out of her office, “You just need to make sure she goes slowly. I’d appreciate the break.”

“Alright! Let’s do it!” Ernie cheered. I squeaked in shock as Ginny helped me off of the bed, gasping in pain as I placed my weight on my weak legs and knees. Ginny quickly held me aloft, amazingly muscled from years of Quidditch – unfortunately, cancelled this year, with all the giant attacks – and helped me slowly shift my feet forward.

“That’s it, easy, baby steps,” she urged.

Throughout the day, everyone but Elena and Claire helped me take turns walking, even Neville – well, especially Neville, who insisted on helping me to walk most out of everyone, practically carrying me.

“Oh you’re not helping her like that!” Hermione scolded, taking control even though she was short, “You’re not letting her practice at all!”

Neville grumbled in annoyance and sat down again.

After a long day of practice, my legs hurt more than when we had started, so they let me lie down again and curl up with Neville, who gently held me to him.

“Well, you can’t walk on your own, but you should be able to soon,” Harry nodded firmly.

“And then we can finally get out of this hellhole,” Hermione pointed to the Hospital Wing around her.

“I’m looking forward to it,” I murmured, nestling further into Neville’s arms.

I was scared – I wasn’t going to not be, not in any universe – but I knew I wanted this. I knew I wanted him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And next chapter is entirely sexy time stuff - well that and the emotional intimacy and vulnerableness and general mental health stuff that has to come with it. So that's fun! Yay! 
> 
> See, I didn't kill off Harry. Sorry for any confusion! 
> 
> PLEASE COMMENT


	116. Chapter One Hundred and Fourteen: December 25, 1996, Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You know you need a fix when you fall down  
> You know you need to find a way  
> To get you through another day  
> Let me be the one to numb you out  
> Let me be the one to hold you  
> Never gonna let you get away 
> 
> The shoulder you cry on  
> The dose that you die on 
> 
> I, I can be your painkiller, killer, killer  
> You'll love me till it's all over, over  
> 'Cause I'm the shoulder you cry on  
> The dose that you die on  
> I, I can be your painkiller, killer, killer"  
> ~ Three Days Grace, "Painkiller"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Pretty much the whole thing is about two naked people being intimate. Some of that is sex. Some of it is other things. All of it is R and up (lots of the up). It has a lot of emotional development, so try to read if you can, but there will be no warnings for the sexy times since it is most of the chapter.

Chapter 114: December 25, 1996, Hogwarts

I was glad to finally leave the Hospital Wing. Granted, I hadn’t exactly been aware of being in there for as long as I was, but between Harry’s time there and now mine, I had spent the better part of the past month in the Hospital Wing in varying states of consciousness. So I was glad to leave.

“Can you walk?” Neville asked softly as I weakly got up from the bed, leaning against the frame and gently stumbling forward.

“I – yeah, yeah, I can walk,” I nodded.

“Are you sure?” he fretted, reaching out to me and pulling me close to him, refusing to let go of me as I rested tiredly against his chest.

“Nev, Pomfrey’s only letting me out so I can practice moving around,” I reminded softly, leaning up to kiss him. He gently stroked my cheek, his fingertips trailing every inch of skin there, breathing softly as he did so.

“I know I just – I can’t lose you,” he murmured quietly.

“I can’t lose you,” I agreed, “I just – if you don’t want to lose me then I have to remember how to walk.”

“Right,” Neville sighed softly.

I weakly wrapped my arms around his shoulders, leaning up to kiss him as always, but I wasn’t strong enough to get on my tip toes. Neville bent down to kiss me instead. I sighed happily and wrapped myself around him tightly, unable to stop myself from being as close to him as possible. I had almost lost him. He had almost lost me.

“Happy anniversary,” he mumbled softly against my lips. I laughed weakly, pulling back and staring up at him.

“Happy anniversary,” I smiled weakly, “Doesn’t really feel like it.”

“Given we were practically a couple for months beforehand,” Neville laughed weakly.

“That, and just, I dunno. It doesn’t feel like Christmas… last time did,” I frowned.

“That might be because you were unconscious for two weeks,” Neville sighed. I kissed him again, feeling sorry for something I hadn’t even had any control over.

“Well Happy Christmas then,” I murmured. He kissed me again, enveloping me as tightly as he could, crying a little against my head as he did so.

“I’m sorry I just – I j-just genuinely did not believe you’d l-live till t-t-today,” he whimpered, now crying harder as he squeezed me as tightly as possible, “I-I thought – I thought – you’d die and – and we never even – made it – one year – without –“

“Neville, Neville, I’m okay. We’re here, together, and I’m okay,” I whispered softly, pulling his face to look at me again, kissing him as lovingly as I could, “Neville, we’re here, together, and it’s going to be okay, I promise.”

Neville nodded, still weeping extensively, still holding me as tightly as he could muster.

“Come on, let’s try walking,” I urged softly. Neville nodded weakly, letting me actually slowly move forward across the room, using all of the beds for balance as I did so. Neville watched me with the most worried expression on his face, doubtlessly expecting me to fall or trip over myself. I moved extra carefully, my legs not moving much at all, especially because of how in pain they were. I just wanted to lie down again, but I kept moving forward until I reached the door. Neville immediately wrapped his arms around me as tightly as he could, but he was also in significant paint, wincing as he did.

“I’m so proud of you,” he mumbled softly.

“Thank you,” I whispered, “Let’s keep moving.”

He nodded, helping me through the door to the railing of the stairs, kissing me on the side of the head and gently tucking my hair behind my ear.

“You’re doing great, my love,” he whispered softly. I nodded weakly, slumping against him, my heart racing in my chest from the effort of moving so much. He held me close to his chest, kissing me on the top of my head; I could hear his own heart race ridiculously fast, and I knew he was also struggling against his injuries.

“Well this is going swimmingly,” I joked.

“We don’t have to go far…” he paused.

“It’s two floors and the opposite side of the castle away!” I rolled my eyes.

“Still, could be more than that. Let’s keep going,” Neville urged, pressing his hand into my back and aiding me down the stairs. We moved down them slowly; the castle was quiet, the student here for the holidays either out having fun in the snow or in their respective common rooms. Each step downwards only added to my pain – my joints ached with every movement, my bones felt weak and my muscles almost nonexistent. It would take ages for me to build them up again.

Eventually, however, we managed to reach our floor. I groaned as we climbed down the last step, leaning against the wall of the corridor and mumbling tiredly.

“Maggie, come on, we don’t have much farther to go,” Neville whispered softly.

“I can’t move anymore,” I grumbled, weakly wrapping my arms around his neck and holding onto him.

“Alright,” he grunted softly, and before I knew what was happening he had picked me up, carrying me down the corridor.

“But you’re hurt too!” I protested as he grunted in pain, his face torn into a horrifying grimace as we finally reached our room and he set me down.

“Worth it,” he muttered, wincing and massaging his arms. I pulled him to me for a soft kiss, feeling terrible for having complained – I could have walked that far and spared him.

“It’s fine, Mags,” he murmured softly before opening our door.

I was immediately bombarded by a wall of fluff; I screamed in surprise – though I suppose I should not have been surprised – as the Flock ran up to me and started all trying to cuddle with me. Since there was only so much space around my legs, they resorted to jumping and trying to snuggle with me by pushing me to the ground. It worked, given my general state of extremely-in-pain, and I fell to the ground in surprise. Neville shouted in protest but I was okay, taking Blue closer into my arms and soothing her with as many pets as possible. She was chirping loudly in distress, so I actually kissed her on the snout, which calmed her some.

“Hey, I’m okay, okay?” I whispered softly. Blue chirped again and nestled closer to me as the rest of them piled on after her.

“They really missed you,” Neville murmured.

“I figured,” I whispered softly, looking up at him. His eyes were filled with tears.

“Nev –“

“I missed you,” he mumbled.

“Nev,” I repeated, now crying myself. He joined me on the floor and held me tightly despite all the fluffballs in the way, sobbing heavily into my shoulder and getting it soaked.

“Mags please –“ he hiccupped.

“Neville –“ I whispered.

“Mags don’t leave, just don’t, don’t die, please don’t –“ Neville rambled, sobbing so hard that he was barely breathing at this point. I swallowed heavily and reached out for him, holding him tightly as he held tightly to me.

“Neville I promise I’m doing everything I can to not die, okay? I promise,” I whispered softly.

“Okay, okay, okay –“ Neville mumbled.

“Nev,” I breathed, holding his face in my hands and rubbing his cheeks with my thumb, “Nev, please, please breathe, you aren’t breathing right, and I love you so much but you’re being hysterical –“

He kept breathing erratically, so I weakly got up from the fluff pile. I hobbled painfully to the bathroom as Neville kept sobbing, gripping the wall tightly both out of need for the support and out of pain. I managed to reach the bathroom and I weakly rummaged under the sink, grabbing the brown bag and dumping everything from it. I hobbled back, handing it to him. He grabbed it from me roughly and started breathing heavily inside of it, looking at me over the top of the bag with more tears streaming down his face. I quickly kissed away the tears as his breathing slowed, holding him to me and stroking his shoulder and arm.

“I love you, Nev, you need to just be in the present, okay? You just need to _be_ , and be with me here, now, alright? And here, now, I am alive, and in your arms, and kissing you, okay?” I begged.

He nodded, slowly, removing the bag and staring at me.

“It’s hard, Mags – I almost lost you. You nearly died. I nearly lost you and you nearly lost me and – and – this isn’t the first time this has happened, nor will it be the last, and I want it to _stop_ , I want it to _stop happening_ , but it won’t, and I can’t – I can’t live like this anymore,” Neville mumbled, “Please don’t make me live like this anymore.”

“I wish I could make it stop,” I murmured, “I really wish I could. I’m really sorry that I can’t.”

He sobbed again, much more calmly but they were still sobs, resting against me and crying heavily into my chest. I lifted up his face so he would be looking at me, his tears making his eyes turn red and puffy, his face splotchy, snot kind of coming out of his nose. I reached for a tissue and wiped away the grossness, making him smile weakly, before sobbing again. I found it impossible to not sob with him – after all, he was right. All of this – all of it – was temporary. We were, in a way, doomed.

Dead on arrival.

I swallowed down my tears and reached out, roughly, to grab his face. I pulled it close to me into a kiss, kissing him passionately and heavily despite the tears streaming down both of our faces. He squeaked in response but quickly started kissing me back, his lips moving furiously against mine. The flock all quickly scurried out of the way as he wrapped his arms tightly around me and pulled me as close to him as he could, situating me in his lap and running his hands all over my back and shoulders. I mumbled softly against his lips as I ran my hands up and down his sides, pawing at his shirt and attacking his mouth. Neville whimpered softly, reaching to entangle his fingers in my hair and pulling me closer to him. I managed to grab ahold of his shirt and finally pull it up and off of him, holding tightly to his torso and running my hands all over his now exposed skin. There was so much of him – his stomach was ample, his chest was a little flabby too, his back was broad and long, that I couldn’t stop touching every inch of him. He whimpered again under my touch, gripping me so tightly that I squeaked in surprise and pain. He loosened his grip at that, and I pulled back from him, panting heavily and staring tiredly into his eyes. Everything ached – all my bones, all my joints, all my muscles. Everything was sore, stiff, and out of use.

“I’m sorry love,” Neville whispered, “Pain?”

I nodded silently, tears filling my eyes again. I wanted to do this. I really, really did. I just didn’t know how to when I hurt this much.

“Here,” Neville murmured softly, “Here.” I looked at him curiously as he took my shoulders into his hands, gently kneading them with his fingers. I let out a sharp intake of breath and relaxed somewhat as he started to massage my shoulders, helping to relieve some of the pain and tension there, though I was still sore. I mumbled sadly at that and nestled up against him, closing my eyes and breathing deeply.

“Sore?” he asked softly. I nodded, tears filling my eyes again.

“Love, it’s okay. I’m trying to stay in the present, and right now all I want is to make you feel better,” Neville murmured, kissing me on the nose, “Give me a second.”

I watched him sadly as he got up and went into the kitchen. I felt cold without him, and it scared me to not have him close by – after all, I had, however briefly, thought him dead as well. He quickly came back with a towel, and waved his wand over it, muttering to himself.

“What are you doing?” I asked quietly.

“Read somewhere that warm things help alleviate soreness? I dunno,” Neville shrugged, draping the towel over my shoulders. It definitely felt good, but I couldn’t get the full effect with so many layers of clothing on. I handed it back to him and shrugged out of my sweatshirt, t-shirt and bra, him taking the garments away and watching me curiously. I then pointed the towel while looking at him, the very thought of reaching for it pain-inducing. Neville smiled slightly and put it back over my shoulders, and I moaned softly with relief. I nestled back into his arms with my back pressed against his chest, resting my head against his neck and closing my eyes.

“I love you,” I murmured.

“I love you,” he whispered back, gently massaging and rubbing my arms in his hands. I sighed happily, nuzzling against him and mumbling nonsense. He continued to massage my arms slowly and gently, making me sigh more and nuzzle more against him, enjoying the feeling of his skin against mine in so many places and the warmed towel against my shoulders.

“Would it help you to lie down at all?” Neville murmured quietly. I nodded, my butt and lower back aching slightly, even though it was nice to be nestled against him. He got up and gently helped me into the bed, following quickly and wrapping his arms gingerly around me. I looked up at him sadly and kissed him on the nose, running my fingertips down the side of his face, from his forehead across his cheek and then jaw. He shivered underneath my touch, swallowing slightly.

“Mags?” he whispered softly.

“Yeah?” I answered, swallowing and holding him as tightly as I could muster in my arms.

“How are you feeling? I keep assuming, and not asking,” he murmured softly.

“Everything hurts,” I admitted softly.

“I’m sorry,” he frowned, kissing me softly on the lips.

“But feeling you touch me is nice,” I whispered, “Soothing.” He nodded, kissing me softly across my cheek and jaw down to my neck, nibbling more softly and lovingly there as his hands rolled and massaged my shoulder blades. I moaned softly and managed to weakly run my hands over his chest again, gently tracing my fingertips over his skin as he shivered a little underneath my touch. I rubbed small circles over his nipples as he continued to massage my shoulders and back. He moved his lips slowly and methodically down to my breasts, kissing them softly all over and making me shiver with him. I held my hands weakly in his hair as he gently kissed each of my nipples, sighing happily at the intimate and tender gesture. He looked up at me, tears filling his eyes again, before kissing me softly on the lips. I wrapped my arms around him as he continued to kiss me slowly and methodically, his hands now massaging my waist and lower back. I weakly sat up and he sat up with me, turning around to sit in his lap again as he began massaging my lower back in earnest, teasing out knots and draping the warm towel over my stomach and legs.

“You feeling any better?” he asked softly against my ear, his breath tickling it a little. I nodded weakly, nestling up against him and moaning without relent as he gently managed to get my persistent stress knot out of my back.

“I love you,” he whispered softly, nestling in the crook of my neck and sighing. I could feel more tears falling onto my shoulder, making me cry again too.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he mumbled softly, “I just can’t stop thinking about how I almost lost you –“

“Nev,” I murmured, turning around weakly to face him. He sniffled, staring at me, his forehead and nose pressed up close against mine.

“Do you remember this time last year?” I asked softly. He nodded, a smile breaking out over his face somewhat.

“I remember us holding hands, and talking about everything, and kissing in the snow, and you telling me you love me –“ Neville rambled.

“Exactly,” I smiled, “Look, we’ve been through a lot since then, and I’ve nearly died a lot of times – so have you – but it’s our one year anniversary. We’ve been doing _this_ ,” I leaned in to kiss him before pulling back, “For a whole year.”

Neville smiled wider, crying again, but I was pretty sure they were tears of joy.

“Can we focus on that, please? On us, on all the _good_ things we’ve had this year?” I asked quietly.

“Yes,” Neville nodded, kissing me again, “Yes, my love, yes.”

I smiled at him and he leaned in to kiss me softly and methodically, still messaging me wherever he could reach, but definitely focusing more on kissing me. He pressed me up tightly against him and though it hurt a little, it was far better to be so close to him, skin sticking to skin and my breath catching in my throat. He kept kissing me passionately and heavily, now pressing me down on the bed and lying on top of me. I breathed heavily, aware of how close he was to me and how heavy he was, and he propped his weight up on his elbows and arms. I weakly moved my arms all over his back, gripping needfully at his shoulders, as he began lightly humping me, his body just moving slowly and methodically back and forth against mine. I whimpered into his mouth and he reached down into my loose pajama pants, pulling them and my underwear down off of my hips. I broke away from him, panting slightly and looking up at him in partial worry.

“What is it, Maggie?” he asked softly, his eyes kind and gentle.

“Do you have – er – something – the potion, I guess?” I stammered out.

“Oh, yeah, I asked McGonagall for it, I don’t trust my own potion making skills,” Neville admitted sheepishly, blushing absolutely furiously.

“Oh my god,” I laughed, a large one escaping my stomach and chest even though it hurt to do so, “Oh my _god_. How did that conversation even _go?_ ”

Neville giggled too, still blushing, “Er, I just kind of went into her office yesterday while you were talking with Elena and Claire, and I just started blubbering a little bit because it still hurts to be away from you right now –“

I reached out to gently stroke his cheek, frowning apologetically at him, and he kissed me on the tip of the nose.

“And she just said ‘get on with it, Longbottom,’ but I just kept blubbering, now more in embarrassment than anything, and she frowned and let me blubber on for ages before reaching into her desk and pulling out this flask, and then she said ‘this should protect her for twenty four hours, make sure she drinks it before you start,’ and I responded ‘wait you know what I’m asking for’ and she said ‘you want the birth control potion and you can’t make it yourself because you’re bullocks at potions. Please get out of my office before this gets any more awkward.’ So I just left and I don’t think I can ever look her in the eye again,” Neville laughed.

“Oh my god,” I giggled, and the laughter shaking through my body continued to pain me but I didn’t care, this story was too perfect and hilarious.

“Well I’ll make more sometime soon, depending on how this works out,” I finally managed to gasp out.

“Thanks for that,” Neville rolled his eyes, “Er, here.” He reached around me for my dresser drawer and handed me a small capped bottle, and I uncapped it and drank it all in one gulp.

“Should be good immediately right?” Neville asked.

“Yup,” I nodded.

“Alright,” he flushed more, running his hand through his hair, which was now so long it reached below his shoulder blades, “Are you sure you’re up for this?”

“I’ve had sex before, remember?” I sighed.

“I mean physically –“

“I know you mean physically, and I’m saying you don’t _have_ to be in peak physical condition. It is sort of one of those naturally programed bodily function things. I didn’t think you were expecting aerobatic positions from our first try,” I giggled despite myself.

Neville stuck his tongue out at me and I kissed it, making him giggle too.

“Fair enough – I guess I also mean emotionally. I mean…” Neville swallowed, “Yeah you’ve had sex, but not with anyone you’re remotely close to…”

“You’re right,” I agreed, “But I want to try.”

He nodded again and kissed me, and I reached for his pants, unbuckling them and pulling them off of his hips. He shivered a little under my touch, in both anticipation and in nervousness, watching me intently as I pulled off his boxers and let him spring free. I reached to touch him, unable to stop myself as I rubbed up and down his length methodically, feeling him grow ever harder underneath my touch. He moaned softly and reached for me as well, rubbing his hand against my clit and his fingers up inside of me, massaging and lightly drumming against my walls as I moaned and leaned up to kiss him. We kissed each other softly and lovingly as we rubbed each other gently, just getting ourselves ready for the next step, not moving fast or hard as though to get ourselves off. He whimpered a little at my touch and slowly placed me underneath him again, staring down at me and kissing the tip of my nose.

“I love you Mags,” he whispered softly.

“I love you Nev,” I responded, and my heart was pounding loudly and uncontrollably in my chest, making my joints somehow ache more.

“Are you ready?” he asked nervously, his voice shaking with the syllables. I nodded, and he gently spread my legs apart, his touch on my thighs the lightest of caresses, me helping as much as I could though it pained me to do so. In fact, the general level of pain I was in from my injuries was somewhat overwhelming. I was barely conscious of the fact that he was sliding inside of me, literally filling up every inch of me so much that when he was all the way pressed in I couldn’t ignore it any longer. He was almost too big, stretching out my walls and still hanging out some at the bottom, though he had gone in as deep as he could go. It was too much. Everything was too much, and he was on top of me, pressing me down into the bed, and I felt trapped – suffocating – I could barely breathe – I couldn’t get out, he was too heavy, and I was only half there – I was also half in the library –

I looked up at him and my brain kept flashing to the library –

I started sobbing before I could stop myself –

I bit my lip as I cried to stop myself from screaming –

“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit – I knew this was a bad idea – fuck –“

I opened my eyes and focused on Neville’s face as he pulled out of me, sliding out and making me feel hollow when he did so. The feeling of sudden emptiness made me cry harder and I could barely focus on the fact that Neville was acting frantically – what was he doing –

I wiped away the tears from my eyes as fast as I could and saw that Neville was pulling at his hair, tugging at it violently, so hard that strands were coming out practically in chunks. I cried out and weakly grabbed his hands, which had blood on them from the forcefulness with which he tore out some of his hair.

“Nev what are you doing?” I managed to choke out, my voice rough and strained.

“I fucked up, I hurt you, I pushed you into this, I don’t deserve to be alive –“

“Nev –“

“I did the one thing I swore I’d never –“

“You haven’t done anything wrong, I had no idea that would happen –“

“I fucked up I fucked up I fucked up I fucked up –“

“Nev!”

“I didn’t mean to, I didn’t mean to, I didn’t mean to, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry, I didn’t want to hurt you, I didn’t want to hurt you, I didn’t want to hurt you –“

“Nev!”

“I fucked up I fucked up I fucked up –“

“NEV!”

 He began sobbing, holding his face in his bloodied hands, and I quickly grabbed my wand from the nightstand to wave it over him, muttering charms to heal his scalp. I had no idea how to make his hair grow back – Hermione probably would know –

“Stop, I d-d-d-deserve that –“

“No, you don’t –“

“I raped you –“

“No, Neville, you really didn’t, I promise,” I whispered, “I never said no, I never wanted you to stop, and the moment I was clearly upset you pulled out –“

“But –“

“You didn’t, okay? You didn’t, I promise,” I reached out for him and held his face in my hands, staring earnestly into his eyes and gripping him as tightly as I could.

“B-But-“

“Neville, _please_ , listen to me,” I begged, “Please, okay? You didn’t hurt me. I wasn’t aware what doing that would do to me, it’s not your fault and it’s not mine and it’s no one’s, okay? Please believe me.”

He stared at me for a while before nodding, tears still streaming down his face, pressing his nose into mine.

“Look, Nev, I love you,” I whispered, “I love you, you didn’t hurt me, okay?”

“Ok-k-kay…”

“I think it was just – I’m in a lot of pain from everything and – you were kind of crushing me? Because you were on top? So it reminded me of what happened and – well – you are quite – er –“ I rambled.

“Quite what?” he asked hoarsely.

“Er… big?” I offered, “So… when you went inside me it was just… a lot. At one time.”

“Okay,” Neville breathed slowly, “So… what do you want me to do?”

“I think… maybe… if I was on top?” I offered, “If that’s okay?”

“Sure,” Neville nodded, frowning, “Just… give me a minute…”

I kissed him softly, and though it hurt to reach out for him and wrap my arms around him, I kept kissing him slowly and methodically, holding him lovingly in my arms as he hesitantly wrapped his around me in return. Every move of him was hesitant and nervous but I kept kissing him, running my hands through his remaining hair and massaging his lips with mine. I slowly wrapped my legs around his waist, too, sitting in his lap but not on top of him, enveloping him with myself in a hope to try and calm him and sooth him from before. He made a small sound and held me lovingly and tighter, looking at me hesitantly. I kept lightly humping him, tracing small kisses all over his face and nose.

“Mags,” he whispered softly, looking at me with a mixture of apprehension and love and still some residual sadness. I kissed him on the forehead and gently helped him to lie down, slowly pushing his shoulders down onto the mattress, staring down at him and feeling my heart beat rapidly in my throat.

“Are you okay?” I asked him quietly. He nodded, looking up at me, clearly nervous and even shaking a little bit.

“We don’t have to – you’re shaking – it’s fine –“ I rambled.

“No, I want to,” he swallowed, “If we don’t won’t try for ages and ages.”

I looked at him sadly, “Are you assuming our impending demise again?”

“What choice do I have?” he whispered.

I leaned down and kissed him, tears streaming down my face, “I don’t want you to be pressured into this –“

“I’m not –“

“You obviously are –“

“Not by _you_ –“

“By our lives, then –“

“Love that’s not your fault, and it’s still my choice –“

“Nev –“

“Please, okay? I’m ready.”

He still didn’t look ready, and I was still in pain, so I slowly maneuvered him inside of me while not taking my eyes off of his face. His didn’t leave mine either, but he continued to look uncomfortable and upset, making me hesitate. He slid inside of me, filling me up so much and overwhelming me again, but now I wasn’t trapped underneath him – I was sitting on top of him, and I had more control. I took in a deep breath of relief as I didn’t immediately start having a flashback. As I shifted on top of him, and he filled every corner of me, I even had to control the urge to start moving my hips back and forth, even though I knew it would feel good – probably even more than that. I looked down at him, and his eyes were squeezed shut – him biting his lip, even.

“Neville? Do you want me to get off?” I asked worriedly, reaching for his face and feeling my heart pound in my throat loudly.

“No –“

“Yes you do, what’s wrong?” I asked immediately, frantically.

“Nothing’s wrong,” he mumbled.

“Neville…” I sighed.

“Look, you’re fine, let’s just –“

“ _Neville._ ”

“You just… are kind of sitting on me like…” Neville suddenly had tears in his eyes and he held his face in his hands, crying into them.

“The bitch?” I whispered quietly. He nodded and I started crying with him, attempting to pull myself off of his hips and his penis, no matter how increasingly accustomed I was growing to it.

“No! Don’t go on my account, no,” Neville shook his head rapidly.

“Neville you’re uncomfortable and –“ I rambled.

“No! Unless you want to for _you_ , don’t,” Neville kept shaking his head.

“But –“

“It’s literally just the position, okay? I promise,” Neville grunted.

“Neville,” I whispered softly. Everything was quite overwhelming, between him filling me up so completely, my emotions going all over the place, the pain still coursing through every inch of me, and him and his face.

“I’ll get used to it –“

“Neville, you’re in pain, and remembering something that you don’t want to remember. Please don’t do this,” I whispered.

“I –“

I frowned and pulled him up into a sitting position. He scooted back against the headboard in response, and I settled more onto his lap, staring at him. He swallowed, us now almost eye-to-eye – I wrapped my arms tightly around his shoulders and tried to stop my instinct to start shifting back and forth against him again. Our chests were pressed together, and he was as close to me as he could be – our limbs wrapped around each other and our breathing mixed together and his eyes staring deeply into mine.

Neville visibly swallowed, still staring at me, his breathing now quickening somewhat.

“This is better,” he whispered hoarsely.

“Are you sure?” I asked nervously.

“Yeah,” he swallowed, “One of the reasons I was – pulling out my hair before –“

“Neville…”

“Was because it felt really bloody good, and I didn’t want to leave, but obviously I was hurting you –“

“It’s not your fault –“

“So you say…”

“It’s not, Neville, I promise,” I whispered, “Look just – it feels good for me too, okay? It does. I want you to stay in.”

He swallowed heavily, “You sure you won’t flashback?”

“No. I’m in control here – and the pain is actually not that bad sitting like this,” I shook my head, “And I can clearly see you… It’s you; when you were on top of me I couldn’t really see your face and between that and the position and the pain it was hard to distinguish what was happening from that horrid thing –“

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” he murmured, “And now you’re not distant from me but still pinning me down, so it’s nothing like when that bitch threatened me…”

“This is an amazingly sexy conversation,” I laughed. He stared at me for a second before laughing too, his entire body shaking with it, him wrapping his arms tightly around me and burying his face in my shoulder.

“I love you,” he whispered softly.

“I love you,” I murmured, kissing the side of his head, “So should I…”

“Stay,” he begged, his voice hoarse and strained as he pulled back from my shoulder to look at me, “If you want.”

“I do,” I swallowed, moving a little on his hips, “I – ohhhh…”

“Mags?” he asked nervously, staring at my every movement intensely.

“This feels… _really_ good,” I whispered as I moved my hips back and forth against his, him shifting as much as he could with me inside of me, pressing up against me and filling me so completely that I couldn’t think straight. I was filled, I was full – not too full anymore, just enough – every time he pressed up against me just right I was overwhelmed with how good it felt, my sensitive skin stretched and pushed so much I could barely think straight. It was indescribable, and I pulled him in for a long kiss as I kept moving my hips back and forth against his, just rocking them over and over again as I couldn’t breathe or comprehend what was happening.

“Oh Maggie,” he whispered hoarsely, pulling back from me and staring at me not with sadness or personal self-loathing, but with pleasure and love – his lips parted, his arms wrapped ever more tightly around me to hold me to him, his breathing coming out in short gasps.

“Oh Neville,” I responded, gripping his hair tightly in my hands and moving faster on his hips, overwhelmed with the smell of his sweat, the taste of his lips on mine, the sounds he made into my mouth, the sight of him naked and there being no distinction to where he ended and I began, and of course, the feeling of his skin sticking to mine and his penis filling me up so completely. I could barely think or comprehend everything, and I was reduced to loud, low, guttural moans as I humped him faster and faster. He pressed himself deeper into me, his hips shifting up and down slowly and then faster and faster as we went on, him whimpering and moaning in a high pitched voice, gripping my shoulder blades for dear life.

“How are you so – hnnnnnng,” Neville whimpered, looking at me with heavy lidded and extremely dilated eyes, his hips pushing up into mine heavier and faster as I rocked back and forth more and more, my legs wrapped tightly around his waist and my moans growing louder and louder as he rubbed up inside of me and sent waves of pleasure through every inch of me.

“How am I so – what?” I asked breathlessly, reaching to run my fingers through his hair as I humped him harder and harder, each shock of amazing feeling ebbing away the pain that coursed through every inch of me.

“Bloody brilliant?” Neville squeaked, his hands now squeezing my butt as it shifted back and forth against him, his hands massaging and rolling the fat of my buttocks between his fingers as I moaned and whimpered, pressing my face into his and now moving my hips as fast as I could against him.

“I don’t know,” I managed to gasp out between uncontrollable moans, his matching mine but higher pitched – more whimpers than guttural growls, though both escaped his lips, and both escaped mine, “How are you?”

“I don’t – oh – oh Maggie,” he mumbled, pressing his face into my shoulder and gripping my waist, now, so tight I couldn’t breathe – I moved faster as he pressed in deeper, and the pleasure that shook through me was almost too much. I screamed his name into his hair as I rapidly climbed the mountain, so to speak, so fast that I didn’t even register it was happening – one minute I was reveling in how good it felt to have him inside of me – the next I was exploding, my walls closing in around him, squeezing tighter and tighter and faster and faster as I screamed his name over and over and over again, ‘Neville’ essentially a song from my lips as I collapsed against him, panting and groaning softly as the shockwaves slowed and eventually stopped.

Neville kept humping up into me, looking at me and moaning quietly as he stroked my face. He was going much faster now, though, bouncing me up and down in his lap. My walls were still sensitive, so it made more waves go through me, and I moaned low and constantly as he did this. I gripped his shoulders and gasped out his name as he gasped out mine, slipping in and out of me so fast I could barely think again, now both exhausted and satisfied as well as pleased. He pulled me in for a long kiss as he did this, before humping faster and faster, gripping my shoulders tightly as he started screaming my name in a high pitched whimper. I watched him in fascination as I felt him fill me up, hot liquid shooting and hitting the top of me, before sliding down my walls, him still screaming and closing his eyes as he exploded and continued to explode inside of me.

I covered his face in kisses, now growing exhausted from the wake of the physical activity – the pain was back, and with a vengeance, but I didn’t care as I peppered him in small presses of my lips.

“Oh Mags,” he whispered breathlessly, looking at me lovingly. I kissed him passionately and he pulled me down into a lying position, me resting my head lovingly against his sweaty chest.

“Holy shit,” he continued, his voice breathless as he started stroking my back lovingly.

“Yeah,” I laughed weakly.

“That was amazing,” he breathed, looking at me with more adoration than he had ever had in his eyes previously, which I had thought impossible.

“It was,” I agreed, kissing him softly on the tip of the nose.

“I’m sorry for freaking out,” he mumbled sheepishly.

“I’m sorry too,” I agreed.

“You have nothing to be sorry about –“ Neville protested.

“Neither do you, love, so let us agree to move past it,” I murmured gently, stroking his hair out of his eyes.

“Yeah. I just regret tearing out my hair,” Neville mumbled, “Does it look terrible?”

I looked over at him and at his scalp. There was a noticeable patch without hair still, and I frowned.

“I’m sure Pomfrey or Hermione know spells to make it grow back,” I reassured. He sighed, tears leaking out of his eyes again.

“It doesn’t look that terrible, and if you combed your hair carefully it would be unnoticeable. And again, I’m sure Hermione knows a spell,” I reassured.

“Okay,” Neville murmured, “How are you feeling?”

“Well, I have new aches now,” I admitted, “But good.”

“Sorry,” Neville admitted sheepishly.

“It was a bit of a tight fit,” I giggled. Neville blushed furiously but also grinned a little bit.

“If I could tell correctly, you enjoyed that,” he teased. I nodded rapidly, kissing him softly while massaging his lips with my own. He moaned softly and gently rubbed my shoulder as we kissed.

“Well I’m glad that we did that,” I whispered, “Very very glad.”

“As am I, Maggie,” he murmured, kissing me softly, “Happy anniversary.”

“Happy anniversary,” I smiled weakly, “And Happy Christmas.”

“Happy Christmas,” he kissed me softly, “I’m glad we’re both alive to see it.”

“I’m sorry there was a question we wouldn’t be,” I stroked his cheek and continued to stare into his eyes, “But I promise I’ll keep trying to survive as best as I can.”

“As will I,” Neville agreed softly, kissing me on the forehead again, “As will I.”

I rested there fore a long while, him gently stroking my back and shoulders while kissing me softly on the top of the head.

“Do you want food, my love?” he asked softly.

“Yeah, but I don’t want to move,” I admitted.

“You just stay here,” he murmured, “I’ll go get some, and bring it back.”

“Thanks,” I smiled at him weakly as he got up and got dressed, watching every movement of his body as he twisted into the clothes. He pulled on a hoodie, pulling the hood up over his head.

“Oh Nev –“ I sighed.

“I’m sorry, I’m just a little fragile and I don’t think I can handle someone pointing it out. I’ll fix it tomorrow,” Neville reassured. I nodded, and he kissed me in farewell as he left for the Great Hall. I rested on the bed, shifting slightly to get under the covers, watching as the raptors all hesitantly came up on the bed. I had cum dripping down my legs and I knew I wanted to clean it, but I could barely move, so I just tried to ignore it. Blue nestled up next to me, giving me what I would have sworn was a disgruntled expression, before letting out a small chirp of affection and resting her head on my arm. All of them enveloped me in a fluffy, warm pile of love, and I almost fell asleep as I waited for Neville to return.

He came in and grinned at the sight of me covered in fluff, setting down a tray and crawling in next to me. The raptors automatically shifted around us, chirping in disgruntlement as Neville wrapped his arms tightly around my shoulders.

“I love you Maggie,” he murmured, kissing me on the forehead, “I love you so much.”

I looked up at him and stroked his face, “I love you Neville,” I kissed him on the nose, “I love you so much.”

He reached for the tray and we ate happily together, affectionately nuzzling against each other and holding each other lovingly. As I snuggled into his chest, I had never felt more contented in my life.

After a year and a half of being stuck in my horrors, I felt like I could finally move forward. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My god I am sorry for how long this took. My only excuses is that I had to move (into a new apartment and I've never lived anywhere but my parents' and student housing, so I needed to get and build all the furniture); the end of the semester (so finishing up my classes and grading); busy times on my blog, and I'm living with Max now, so he takes up a lot of my time too (ironic, since he loves this story). Beyond that, I also had trouble just writing this in general, because it's an emotionally trying chapter, and I needed to really push myself through it. 
> 
> I'll try to update regularly again now that it's summer, even though I DO still need to work. Please comment! Also - Max writes small one shots in this universe that are 100% canon (ahhhh boyfriend privileges), so if you want to read them go to the user plokool, or read the other stories in this "series," as they are his! 
> 
> Thank you all, and please let me know what you think. I really do need comments to be inspired. Part of the problem with this chapter was that I wasn't getting many at all when the last came out. So please, please comment. I work hard on this story; even a "great job" would mean the world to me. Thanks!


	117. Chapter One Hundred and Fifteen: December 26 - January 1, 1996 - 1997, Hogwarts and Edinburgh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "It takes a lot to be always on form,   
> It takes a lot   
> Or maybe not, all the time, all I've got   
> Maybe not 
> 
> Been one of those days,   
> Safety first don't push, what's the hurry?   
> One nerve remaining, waiting on one look, have you got it?   
> Have you got it in you?   
> Have you got it in you? 
> 
> All at once, not a whisper nor word,   
> Then all at once   
> (Let me have it all, let me have a battle on,   
> Easy target look can we just, just get it over with?)   
> It's getting worse, against all the odds,   
> It's getting worse   
> (Bow down, floor's yours, last man standing, can we just get it over with?)."   
> ~ Imogen Heap, "Have You Got It In You"

Chapter 115: December 26 – January 1st, 1996-1997, Hogwarts & Edinburgh

The next morning, I woke up in a state of something similar to disbelief. After all, we had had so many hang ups when it came to the traditional sort of sex, it seemed fairly impossible that it would actually happen. Still, remembering it flooded me with joy, and I couldn’t help but seek him out with my arms in the bed, holding him as tightly as I could given my ongoing chronic pain.

“Morning,” he mumbled sleepily, opening his eyes and smiling at me.

“Morning,” I greeted softly, reaching out to hold his face in my hands.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, sitting up and pulling me against his chest.

“Well, I’m still in pain, but less so, I think,” I reassured, smiling weakly at him, “Mostly I just want to be able to move my limbs.”

“The best way for that I think is to just walk around,” Neville paused, “I meant more about the other thing.”

“Oh,” I blushed a little but reached out to stroke his cheek, “I’m good, still.”

He smiled weakly, “Me too,” before leaning in to kiss me. I pulled him in more, moving my lips somewhat hungrily against his, shifting my body on top of him even though it hurt every muscle in my body to do so. He groaned softly at that and held me tightly in his arms; even though it hurt greatly I didn’t much mind. I ran my hands up and down his back gently and lovingly as he kept kissing me over and over again, before pulling back while breathing heavily.

“What is it?” I asked breathlessly, staring at his face lustfully while running my hands up and down his arms.

“I need to go to the bathroom,” he groaned softly, looking at me sadly. I laughed, kissing the tip of his nose and running my fingers through his hair.

“Go, I’ll wait here,” I giggled. He beamed apologetically at me before scurrying to the bathroom, clearly going as fast as his wounded body could take him. I sat up in the bed, looking around the room silently, amazed at how much time had passed since I had last been in here, and yet how it seemed like no time passed at all. Blue and the other raptors were still fast asleep, and I watched their little torsos move up and down slowly and methodically, their feathers fluffing up a little with each intake of breath.

Neville came out of the bathroom, standing in the doorway and looking at me with a small smile. I beamed at him, unable to resist holding my arms out for him to come into them. He pulled off his pajama shirt over his head slowly, his hair flopping every which way as he did so, before shrugging out of his pants, standing completely naked before me. I giggled more, unable to stop myself, as he slowly climbed into the bed and on top of me, kissing my neck lovingly and gently as I wrapped my arms around him. He hovered over me in the bed, making sure to not press down too much into me, his hair hanging all over his face as he looked down at me. Every cell of his face was etched with love, and I couldn’t help but trace my fingertips from his forehead to his chin and jaw, running them lovingly along his lips.

He immediately pulled me in for a long kiss, breathing in deeply as he did so and wrapping his arm around my shoulder. This gently lifted me from the bed and pressed me into him, neither causing me pain nor making me flash back. I made a small, happy moan as I kissed him back lovingly and passionately, running my tongue along the fronts of his teeth as he reached underneath my shirt to gently caress my stomach and roll the fat of it in between his fingers. I mumbled needfully and pressed my body as much against his as I could for the pain of it, and he immediately reached for the hem of my pajama shirt, beginning to tug it off of me as I lifted my arms in the air and pulled back to stare at him. Our eyes never broke contact, our expressions mixtures of love and lust, as he began to pull it off of my arms and shoulders, only stopping our gaze when the shirt forced us too.

He leaned back down to kiss me, his hand now caressing my breast gently, as a loud knock issued on the door.

I jumped in his arms and he pulled back from me in shock, looking up rapidly at the door as he hovered, naked, over me, half naked.

“Who is it?” he asked in a strained, high pitched voice.

“It’s Hermione!”

“And Harry!”

Harry sounded much more disgruntled.

“Whaddya want?” Neville asked grumpily.

“We didn’t see you at all yesterday! Are you all right?” Hermione asked.

“Just fine!” I answered back cheerfully, trying to control my giggles at Neville’s expression of pure, unadulterated disgruntlement.

“It was our Anniversary, Hermione, we spent the day together,” Neville grunted.

“It was Christmas! Surely you would have come to the Feast, Anniversary or not!” Hermione harrumphed.

“We got food later in the day, we wanted to spend the day together,” I explained, still controlling my laughs as Neville flicked me in the ear.

“Still surely we would have run into you! We got worried!” Hermione insisted.

“ _You_ got worried,” Harry sighed.

“Oh please –“

“I knew they were in here all day, come off it.”

“Maggie’s supposed to be engaging in physical activity! To regain her lost muscle mass!”

“There are ways to engage in physical activity that don’t involving leaving the bedroom,” Harry grumbled.

“Oi!” Neville shouted.

“You’re saying you spent the whole day in your room, your Anniversary, after you thought Maggie was going to die for two weeks, and have been dancing around this for months, without shagging?” Harry countered.

“Harry!” Hermione shrieked, and I heard a thunk – clearly she had hit him with something.

“Oi!” Harry protested, coughing loudly.

“Oh, oh I’m sorry Harry, I shouldn’t have whacked you so hard –“ Hermione groaned.

“Never mind that, do you deny it?” Harry managed to shout between loud, nerve-wrackingly painful sounding coughs.

“Oh why do you care?” I laughed.

“I don’t care – argh – look can you two just come out already?” Harry asked.

“Why in the blazes should we do that?” Neville shouted.

“We have to do some stuff today, and we better get going –“ Harry protested.

“What the bloody hell do we have to do on Boxing Day?” I insisted.

“We have to go to Edinburgh and –“ Hermione began.

“Edinburgh?!” Neville roared, “Come off it!”

“Oh would you stop shagging my sister and come out here!”

“Fine!” Neville snapped back. I watched in fascinated amusement as he climbed down from the bed and angrily put back on his pajamas, me quickly returning my shirt to my torso and following him to the door. He wrenched it open, glaring at Harry and Hermione with his arms folded across his chest.

“Why the bloody hell do we need to go to Edinburgh?” Neville demanded grumpily.

“We need to check on a trans clinic, apparently our being at the other one really raised confidence in it and funds, and I promised Ernie we’d go,” Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Bloody – fine. Let us get dressed first,” Neville snapped, closing the door in their faces and grumpily going over to the dresser.

“I’m sorry Nev,” I laughed softly, reaching up and kissing his cheek.

“How are you not frustrated and annoyed right now?” he asked gruffly, looking down at me in bemusement.

“Oh I am,” I reassured, running my fingertips up and down his chest as he took off his shirt, marveling at it, “I just was so amused at your face when they knocked on the door that I haven’t gotten past that emotion.”

“Fair enough,” Neville sighed, “I just wanted to spend the day with you again…”

“Probably good for us to go outside,” I lamented.

“Yeah,” Neville admitted, “We’ll continue this when we get home.”

I smiled lovingly at him and kissed him softly and slowly, before getting dressed as fast as I could given my injuries as he did the same. Blue, now awake, watched us curiously as I walked over to her and kissed her on the tip of her nose.

“Sorry Blue,” I sighed, “I’ll be back at the end of the day, I promise.”

Blue chirped in distress as I left, the sound breaking my heart, but I had to leave eventually. Neville closed the door behind us as Hermione and Harry looked at us in amusement.

“Well?” I asked, rolling my eyes, “Let’s go.”

Hermione smirked at me and I flicked her as we all walked towards Hogsmeade together, where it was easier to floo from – though communicative flooing was possible in the school fires, transportative flooing was nearly impossible given that the fireplaces themselves were unable to be stood in; we had to go to Hogsmeade or find another way. We went as fast as we could through the cold snow, me unable to walk quickly much at all, Neville wrapping his arm comfortingly around my shoulder and guiding me down the hills and through the large drifts.

“What did you two do yesterday?” he asked as I gingerly made my way down one of those hills, Harry coughing in the windy cold air.

“Oh, just relaxed,” Hermione admitted, “Went to the feast, saw our mates, wondered where you two were, spent some time together in our room, that sort of thing.”

“How’s everyone doing?” I asked.

“Same, I mean, relieved you’re alive,” Harry explained.

“Yeah,” I sighed.

“Well let’s just enjoy Edinburgh. The last time we were there we barely got to see anything!” Hermione cheered.

“I’ve never been there at all,” Harry rolled his eyes.

“And I prefer to not think about when we were there last,” Neville grunted softly.

“Oh, well… yes,” Hermione sighed, “Come on then.”

I held Neville’s hand comfortingly, him just resting his face against the top of mine and squeezing me tightly. We reached the Hog’s Head and went inside, quickly taking the floo to the Edinburgh Wizarding Tavern, Dragile. It was relatively quiet in there, no one talking much or even paying much attention to us as we walked through it and left, no incidents or hatred spewing from their mouths as we moved past them all. Then again, Edinburgh was a relatively friendly city to the Rebellion; and it was a holiday. Perhaps they were all just relaxing and not worrying about the war, Voldemort, or the Ministry for once.

We walked through the snowy streets, heading down to the part of the small street for Wixen that had the new Trans Health Clinic, walking inside and lowering the hoods of our cloaks. It was crowded inside, with many children and teenagers bustling about, queues everywhere and only a few members of staff available to meet them.

“It’s them!” someone shouted from the room, “Harry and the others! They’re here!”

A bunch of people cheered; upon close examination it was clear most people over the age of fourteen in the room had lightening bolts painted on their heads – some of the young adults in their twenties even had it _tattooed_. Harry looked shocked as everyone swarmed us, Neville also looking nervous as everyone got very close to us.

“What brings you out here?”

“Are you doing alright? After the attacks on Hogwarts?”

“We heard you were unconscious, Maggie, do you need to sit down?”

“Oh it was just amazing what you all did –“

“Are you here to check on the clinic?”

“You should see how much we’ve collected, we can expand to surgeries out here, we just need to set up the equipment and the room and make it all sanitary –“

Dozens and dozens of Scottish accents overwhelmed us as Harry quickly held up his hands, looking around nervously and running a hand through his hair.

“Er – we were just coming by to check up on everything – we’re doing alright, how is it going here?” he asked nervously, shuffling somewhat from foot to foot.

“Brilliantly, but we could do with more volunteers!” a voice rang out. We looked up to see someone who looked surprisingly like Ernie come towards us – a thin woman with long red hair and thick glasses. She was about my height and looked like she had been through a lot, with scars all over her face but a very kind expression on it besides.

“Er… hello?” Hermione asked curiously.

“I’m Ernie’s mum,” she smiled at us, “I lead the clinic, since my husband is out in the Ministry _trying_ to make some real change come via the _government_ , of all things, and of course Ernie’s out with you lot at Hogwarts, fighting the good fight.”

“Ah, yes, sorry,” Harry admitted, “You looked familiar, but…”

“We’ve never met, of course, but I’ve followed your exploits my whole life. I would never turn my back on you and Dumbledore – _never_. He saved my life during the first war and I trust him with it now,” Mrs. MacMillan paused, “Never mind that. Joined the Order last year, went into hiding with other prominent members, but it’s good to see they’re getting what’s coming to them, those rats.”

“Ministry?” I asked for clarification.

“Oh my dear, who else? They tried to take my son away from me and destroy any hope we had left for the future. The Death Eaters pale in comparison, at least for me. I admit I’m a pureblood and have more to fear from the Ministry than from Death Eaters,” she acknowledged, nodding towards Hermione, who flushed somewhat.

“Don’t worry, I don’t like them either,” Hermione responded.

“Still – a pureblood mother of a mentally ill trans child has more to fear from the Ministry than the Death Eaters. A muggle born has the reverse, and I am sorry for that,” Mrs. MacMillan paused, “Anyways, I assume Ernie sent you lot out here?”

“Yes,” Neville nodded, “At least, so they say.” He pointed, irritated, at Hermione and Harry, Harry snorting and Hermione rolling her eyes at that.  

“Ernie wanted us to check up on the clinic, because of how busy it is,” Hermione explained, “I hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all! Good to have you guys in here,” she beamed, “Come, I’ll show you lot around.” We followed her through the clinic, around all the beds filled with people begin consulted with by volunteer Healers, who all smiled at us and shook our hands.

“Brilliant idea, setting these clinics up.”

“You really have helped so many people.”

“I come here every weekend and Holiday – St. Mungo’s doesn’t care –“

“Telling my trans patients that we had to stop treatment was one of the worst days of my life, but these have helped me bring them back from the brink…”

“Thank you for helping us.”

“You’re bloody brilliant –“

“Keep up the good work out there.”

“Don’t let the Backlash stop you, you need to keep going with this…”

Everyone kept shaking our hands and talking to us, the four of us talking more than we had in ages as we chatted and heard the stories of as many people in the clinic as possible. A young boy who was on the brink of puberty when the hormones were taken away. A twenty-year-old woman who was suicidal when she started to grow facial hair after the edict. Two doctors who tried to steal hormones from the hospital, only to get arrested and bailed out of Azkaban by Mrs. MacMillan. A father who tried to go through muggle channels for hormones for his daughter only to be mysteriously blocked at every turn. It was overwhelming, to say the least – my joints ached more than ever, and Harry was coughing up a storm.

“Harry, you need to rest,” Hermione urged as he was overcome with a coughing fit again, blood dribbling from his mouth as he wiped it on his sleeve. Everyone shouted in alarm at the sight.

“I’m alright, I’m alright,” Harry insisted –“

“No –“

“Hermione –“

“Can we get you anything, Harry?”

“Harry let us help you –“

“Harry you need to calm down and relax, you’re agitating it,” Hermione whispered as everyone started crowding him.

“No, I don’t, and I’m alright, everyone,” Harry reassured, looking around at the room, “Just spell damage. Won’t go away, no use trying to cure it.”

“What sort of spell?” someone asked breathlessly.

“Er… don’t really have a name for it yet. It’s a spell that damages your internal organs. Made my lungs hemorrhage,” Harry flushed and nervously ran his hand through his hair again, “They’re fine now, well –“

“They’re not _fine_ ,” Hermione hissed.

“They’re as healed as they’re ever going to be, now, but I still cough because of it, and sometimes that coughing agitates the scars and I bleed,” Harry shrugged.

“And you should _take it easy_ ,” Hermione muttered.

“Hermione, I can’t live my life in a box,” Harry whispered. Hermione grunted again, as one of the volunteer Healers brought over a potion.

“What’s this, then?” Harry asked curiously.

“Well it won’t heal your wounds, but it should ease any irritation on your throat. Pepperup potion,” the Healer explained. Harry took it, looking at Hermione out of the corner of his eye, and she nodded almost imperceptibly. He drank it and spent the rest of our time in the clinic sitting down, talking to patients from a chair and Healers as the rest of us moved about the room.

“How can we help to keep things running smoothly?” Hermione asked as we followed Mrs. MacMillan throughout the room.

“Just keep sending any money you can, and volunteers,” she sighed, “We run a bit thin on the staffing.”

“We’ll tell Ron, Luna, and Ernie,” Neville reassured.

“Thank you,” she sighed, “I suspect you all should get going?”

“I want Harry to rest his voice,” Hermione admitted.

“If he’s going to have that cough his whole life, as he claims,” Mrs. MacMillan paused, “It’s probably best that you let him live the life that he can live.”

“I don’t want him to make it worse –“

“I don’t think he’s trying to, Hermione.”

Hermione frowned and sighed, nodding towards her and standing up. We walked back together towards Harry, all leaving the clinic and waving and smiling at them all, heading out into the snowy Edinburgh streets.

“Do we want to head home? It’s still early in the day,” Hermione asked.

“I mean, I’m starving,” Neville shrugged.

“We could get food here,” Harry offered, “Go to a muggle pub or something, where we won’t be recognized and bombarded for once.”

“That sounds like a good plan,” I agreed, smiling at him. We all left the Wixen alleyway and went out onto the streets, wandering them together and enjoying listening to the people. There were bagpipists playing on corners and a large castle looming in the background, covered in snow – a very cheerful, homey sort of atmosphere. It made me pine for the Nest, and for Braemar. I pressed my face into Neville’s chest as we walked and he held me tightly, not even asking me what was wrong.

“I miss mum and dad,” I murmured after a while. Harry nodded in agreement, and Hermione wrapped her arms around both of us, turning us into a chain as we reached a small café called the Elephant House. We all went inside it together, sitting at one of the tables. The muggles paid us literally no heed – a woman with blond hair wrote at one of the taller tables; a group of teenagers were roudy and loud at a round one; a small child eagerly pressed his face against the glass as his mother bought him a biscuit.

“Imagine being a muggle and not knowing that any of this shite is going on around your head,” Hermione whispered after a while.

“Must be nicer in some ways,” Neville sighed.

“And more terrible, without knowing, in others,” I pointed out.

“Well, what they don’t know can’t hurt them. More than the Death eaters senselessly killing the,” Harry grunted in annoyance as he sipped his tea.

“Thanks for that,” Neville groaned.

“Sometimes I think they deserve to know all this,” Hermione admitted, “I mean, why do they not have a right to know why their neighbors are dying?”

“Luckily it isn’t happening so much that there’s a mass panic?” I pointed out, startled by her words.

“Not yet, anyway,” Hermione sighed.

We all wordlessly ate, staring at our food and drink and contemplating the war’s eventual worsening, our expressions mirroring each other in their dread.

We left the café solemnly, many muggles running and milling about us as we walked up the street. We passed many shops and tourist traps, including a store selling traditional Scottish clothing and souvenirs.

“Hey! Kilts!” Neville said excitedly, pointing into the shop window.

“Yeah, what about them?” Harry snorted as we stopped in front of it, Neville looking inside of the shop curiously.

“Always wanted to try one on,” Neville explained, frowning slightly.

“They’re for boys though, shouldn’t you have a problem with that?” Hermione asked curiously.

“Well, they are, but I’m _agender_ , so nothing is off limits for me,” Neville grinned a little and I snorted at him, “Besides that, they’re basically a skirt, right? Just thicker material and designed for men. I like skirts, I like being warm, and I’ve always wanted to try one, especially when I thought I was a boy and the only way I’d get to wear a skirt was by wearing a kilt.”

“Oh alright, let’s go in then,” Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Oh you’ve got to be bloody kidding me –“ Harry protested.

“We have nothing else to do,” I flicked him in the arm and he rolled his eyes, the four of us piling into the shop and wandering about it. The kilts and other souveniers were grouped by clan, each clan having their own tartan, or plaid pattern.

“What clan was Mum from again?” I asked Harry as I browsed all the racks, touching the thick, heavy material as I moved.

“I dunno, she came from two obviously,” Harry rolled his eyes.

“I meant the one we share,” I clarified, walking back over to him and rolling my eyes.

“Er… bloody hell what was the link…” Harry frowned, pinching his nose in concentration.

“I can list out some clans for you if you’d like?” Hermione asked. She was holding up a book on Scottish Clans of the Highlands and Lowlands, beaming at us.

“Bloody hell, how did you find a book already then?” Harry asked in amazement, his eyebrows flying into his hairline at the sight.

“Oh shush, we’re in a Scottish Heritage shop,” Hermione rolled her eyes, “Let’s see here… there’s Douglas, and Fletcher, and MacEwen, and Maitland, and –“

“Oh bloody hell you could talk for ages,” I snorted, pulling the book from her as she shrieked in protest, “I’ll just read it over.”

Hermione harrumphed as I skimmed over the list of names. Meanwhile, Neville was still eagerly browsing all the varieties of kilts.

“Aha!” I shouted, triumphantly, “Keith!”

“RIGHT, Keith!” Harry nodded, “Yeah, our mum was a Keith, and my mum’s mum was a Keith! I remember now.”

“And then my mum’s mum was a Macnab,” I clarified, reading, “Nice.”

“So Keith and Macnab?” Neville asked from another corner of the store.

“Yeah,” I nodded.

“I’m not a Macnab, though, just a Keith,” Harry clarified.

“Gotcha,” Neville nodded, and he was pulling things off of racks. He grabbed four kilts, handing one to each of us, making Hermione laugh in amusement.

“What, I want us to get these!” Neville beamed.

“Do you have any muggle money?” Harry rolled his eyes.

“And we should try them on probably,” I laughed.

“Oh fine, but we should,” Neville beamed.

“So – what are these then -?” I asked.

“Keith clan tartans! I thought they looked spiffy. Macnab was too loud for my tastes,” Neville explained.

“I have muggle money but this is ridiculous,” Hermione rolled her eyes.

“No it’s not! It’ll look great, just try them on with me, please?” Neville begged, pouting at her. Hermione rolled her eyes again but took the smallest kilt, walking into one of the dressing rooms. Harry took the second smallest, grumbling all the while, as I took the second largest and kissed Neville lovingly on the cheek. He beamed after me as we all tried on kilts, standing together in the store with our legs now somewhat exposed, large buckles bulging under our t-shirts.

“I don’t think this is the proper top attire,” Hermione giggled.

“No but isn’t it swell?” Neville cheered, twirling even though the kilt wasn’t much designed for that.

“I can’t believe you’re having me be in this,” Harry grunted. He looked especially ridiculous, being quite muscular still from the summer and wearing a t-shirt. He needed either traditional attire or to take the kilt off.

“It’s great! Mate you should wear that all the time,” Neville grinned.

“Oh bloody hell,” Harry groaned again, holding his face in his hands. I enjoyed mine, though it was a bit thicker sort of clothing than I particularly liked. Neville wiggled his eyebrows at me as I started to play with the hem of it, pulling it up somewhat to examine all the different bits of folding cloth. I wiggled my eyebrows back at him, enjoying his bare calves much more than I wanted to let on. Harry groaned even louder as Neville kissed me, Hermione snorting in pure amusement at all the proceedings.

“Well? Can we buy these Hermione, please?” Neville asked eagerly, bouncing a little on his heels and toes.

“Oh alright,” Hermione rolled her eyes, “Since you seem to like them so much.”

“I don’t need one,” Harry shook his head.

“No no, it’s a matching set!” Neville protested.

“What? No –“ Harry began, but Hermione cut him off.

“I hate to agree with him, but the effect is much better when we’re all _matching_ idiots,” Hermione rolled her eyes, all of us going to change out and handing the kilts to her to take to the register. Harry shook his fist at Neville as Neville giggled in delight while she run them up, me just shaking my head in amusement at the proceedings.

“How are you feeling, Mags?” Hermione asked, completely ignoring Harry and Neville’s small feud as we left the shop and walked down the street.

“The limbs still ache but I’m doing alright,” I laughed.

“Oh that’s good. I had hoped walking around and going outside would help you out,” Hermione nodded.

“I’ll be sure to get my exercise,” I rolled my eyes, grinning at her a bit as we made it to the floo, heading home and spending the rest of the day relaxing with the Flock, who seemed rather distressed that we had been gone as long as we were.

It was still the Christmas Holidays, so though the castle was more crowded than usual at this time of year – it was still safer than most cities in the country, apart from certain Rebellion strongholds like Edinburgh – it was still emptier than during term. I kept wandering about the castle with the raptors by my side, stretching my limbs and trying to gain back the muscle mass I had lost. Harry was meanwhile trying to keep his lungs from exploding, doing physical therapy with Madam Pomfrey and generally being grumpy about it. Hermione helped him, looking a little worse for wear from the stress. Neville spent his time on his research project in the Greenhouses, enjoying the warmth and the quiet there.

One day I managed to make my way outside, still leaning against some walls and railings as I did so, but mostly able to walk on my own. The raptors followed me happily, chirping and running about, though Blue stayed close to my side. She continuously rubbed up against me and nuzzled me, clearly still distressed at the amount of time I had been away.

“It’s alright, Blue, I’m okay,” I reassured softly, scratching her behind her head crest. She chirped, but did not seem convinced as we made our way across the snowy grounds.

In the distance were the Rexes. They were calm and happy in their small enclosure next to the lake, McGonagall and I bringing them enough food so that they wouldn’t attack anyone. Alpha, the female, was large and more brown than Omega, the male, who was more bright red. Still, the two seemed to be even puffier than when I had made them – perhaps growing more feathers in response to the cold.

McGonagall had given me a month’s worth of detentions for the new term, as she had threatened, but in general was impressed.

“I can’t believe you did that all on your own,” McGonagall paused the day before as we walked out there together, feeding them live deer and watching as they chowed down on them eagerly, “Well, I _can_ believe it, but I’m still amazed.”

“Sorry Professor,” I admitted sheepishly, “I just didn’t think you’d approve.”

“Of course I wouldn’t,” McGonagall paused, “But you saved us all, so I can’t complain much.”

I smiled at the memory of McGonagall’s reluctant, proud smile, as I continued to walk towards the Greenhouses. I quietly entered the warm room, the raptors all eagerly milling about, much more comfortable than they had been outside, though it was still too humid for their tastes.

“Hi,” Neville greeted, reaching for me and pulling me in for a long kiss.

“How’s it going in here?” I asked, sitting at one of the benches and looking over his work. Thousands and thousands of rune charts and listed genome sequences were all over the workspace, with beakers and cauldrons going with samples bubbling away inside of them.

“Frustratingly as always. Mind going to Hogsmeade? I want to get out of here,” Neville sighed.

“Well, the raptors will mind, but I’m fine with it,” I laughed.

“Thanks,” he kissed the top of my head and wrapped his arm around my shoulder, us leading the raptors out back into the snow and walking across the grounds. We continued down the hills to the path, heading out to Hogsmeade and walking between all the cottages and shops.

“So what’s wrong, love?” I asked softly, massaging his hand in mine, rubbing the top of his hand with my thumb.

“Everything,” Neville grunted in annoyance, “I can’t bloody well get it to work.”

“Oh no,” I groaned, the crunch of the snow under all our feet the only other sound I could hear.

“Yeah. I’ve found too many homologous sequences and the whole thing is a wash. Why the fuck are wixen so bloody well inbred? We all share the same bloody genes and how the bloody hell am I supposed to tell what the genes are that make us different from muggles? Bloody bloody _bloody_ hell! I am never going to figure this out without a larger sample size, this is just lost, it’s all lost and I don’t know what I am doing,” Neville growled, kicking up some snow in front of him. It made a large, poofy, cold, wet cloud that covered the raptors behind us. Ave hissed in ager while Penny and Mong started playing, Deena and Blue just looking around in complete confusion.

“Sorry Ave,” Neville sighed, “But seriously, I can’t keep randomly plucking hairs off of strangers, but I need _more data_. What am I going to do, Maggie?”

“I don’t know,” I admitted, frowning, “But you have to keep trying. It’s too important.”

“I know,” Neville frowned as we entered the Hog’s Head and ordered Butterbeers – Madam Rosmerta’s wouldn’t let the raptors in. They all milled about around us, happily chirping, as I stared at Neville sadly over the tops of our mugs.

“I just don’t know who to ask for help. Sprout is doing all she can – and that is a lot – and even McGonagall is helping, but… Magical genetics? This isn’t something anyone’s done before. I have a lot of different sequences that differ between muggles and wixen _most_ of the time – but everything varies so much it’s so difficult to tell. I have a couple that also differ _all_ the time, but only partially in some cases? I just – I need to know more, and I need more help, and I’m not going to get it from the Ministry, surely, and where else could I possibly turn for such a thing?” Neville rambled.

“I don’t know,” I sighed, “This doesn’t exactly match up with a discipline very well, does it?”

“No, it doesn’t,” Neville agreed, “You had Transfiguration people, and that was great, and you’ve done a lot, but this isn’t even _herbology_ – Sprout knows what I’m doing but she doesn’t have much advice. No one’s ever tried to do this and it’s just… frustrating. I don’t know. I really don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Keep looking for patterns and using your Arithmancy. That’s all you can really hope for,” I sighed.

“Yeah,” Neville nodded, sipping his drink, “What about you? What will McGonagall have you work on now?”

“Probably something more earlier derived than tyrannosaurs. _Therizinosaurus_ is nice, but it’s not really groundbreaking since _Tyrannosaurus_ is a greater challenge. We’re looking at other Theropods for now. Still too difficult to do Sauropods or, Merlin forbid, Ornithischians,” I explained.

“That makes sense,” Neville nodded, “More castle defenses?”

“I think McGonagall wants to avoid that if at all possible,” I giggled.

 “Alpha and Omega are pretty cool, though. Now that I can forgive them for nearly killing you,” Neville laughed.

“Oh definitely. And so different from the Jurassic Park rex! I mean, not that I’m surprised, but those feathers are gorgeous,” I grinned.

“Aren’t they though? I feel like if paleontologists got wind of what you were doing they’d go nuts,” Neville giggled.

“I have no idea how they’d take it. Would they accept what I’ve done, or call it all bullshit? Would I be able to prove to them that this is an actual _T. rex_ , an actual _Velociraptor_? How could I if they don’t understand magic? I guess it’s good that it’s a moot point, since we’ll never tell them about transfiguration and magic and everything, but still, it would take so much explaining that I feel I’d never convince them of anything,” I sighed.

“Well, as you said, you don’t have to worry about it much,” Neville paused, “No one’s arguing from our end.”

I grinned a little before sighing, “It’ll just pain me to see them get it wrong from years to come.”

“Well, that’s what science is. Getting it wrong over and over again until it sticks,” Neville shrugged.

“You have to remember that too, you know,” I laughed.

“Oh shush,” Neville snorted, but smiled at me thankfully.

“Are you ready to go back and keep working?” I asked. He nodded, and we all took off out of Hogsmeade.

Still, it was a sunny day, despite the cold, and the raptors were enjoying it. Outside the Greenhouses I plopped down in the snow, Blue and the others eagerly running up to me and nuzzling up against me. Neville joined me in the snow, Deena quickly curling up in his lap as we sat in the melting powder and looked around at the school together.

“So what are we doing right now?” Neville asked, laughing.

“I don’t know,” I rolled my eyes, “I wanted to play with them in the snow I guess but moving is hard.”

“Makes sense,” Neville nodded, “Well come on then.”

I watched in amusement as he got up from the snow and grabbed some of it in his hands. He molded it up into a ball and threw it, gently, at one of the raptors, who got it on their back. The victim, Penny, chirped in surprise and immediately shook out her feathers, hissing at Neville in annoyance.

“How is that playing with them?” I laughed. Neville shrugged wordlessly as I picked up more snow and started to form it into a shape, trying to make a tunnel for them. Neville quickly caught on and joined in, the two of us building a small tunnel for the raptors to run through, weaving it about and creating different branches and baths for them to follow.

Using magic, we managed to make them even go over each other a bit, creating an elaborate network of tunnels of snow. We took other bits of snow to fortify the hanging tunnels, the section of the Grounds we were on quickly becoming devoid of snow as we worked. The raptors watched in amazed fascination as we finally finished the tunnels, quicker than someone else might have given all of our extensive snow-dinosaur projects from fourth year.

“Well? Go in then!” I laughed as I finished making sure it would stay solid, casting more charms on it to keep it from melting even when it got warm. Blue looked inside curiously, before climbing through the tunnel and running about inside of it. The others soon followed her, and the raptors were now dark silhouettes inside of the tubing, moving about rapidly and chirping at each other from the inside.

“What happens if they break it?” Neville asked.

“Then it’ll collapse in a pile of snow and they’ll be chirping in distress,” I sniggered, “I mean come on, none of these tunnels are very high up are they?”

“No,” Neville agreed, chortling, “This is just amusing.” Two of the raptor blurs were clearly play fighting inside of a tunnel, while two others were chasing each other as fast as they could through them. The fifth was just chilling at the top of one of the tunnels – it was probably Blue – though her chirps of annoyance could be heard any time the two chasing each other passed by.

“Do we just… leave them here?” Neville asked as we sat there watching them for a while, the five of them seemingly perfectly content inside their new playground.

“I’d feel uncomfortable doing that but I guess they wander the castle a lot on their own… I dunno they might have some sort of negative interpretation from us just leaving them there,” I sighed.

“Oh alright,” Neville rolled his eyes, wrapping his arm tightly around my shoulder and holding me close to him in the cold.

“What?” I asked curiously, reaching up to kiss him softly.

“I just keep remembering that I almost lost you again. This sort of thing will pass soon enough,” Neville murmured.

“I’m sorry Nev,” I whispered.

“It’s not your fault,” he reassured softly.

“Still,” I mumbled. I reached for his face and gingerly peppered it with kisses, the actions still hurting a little but not nearly as much as before. Neville held me tightly as I did this, tears leaking from his eyes as we stared at each other in the snow, the chirps of the raptors filling our ears as we sat there. He gently kissed my forehead and held me to him, squeezing me tightly in his arms as I soothed him with small, loving murmurs and kisses all over his face. He soon calmed, stopping crying and just returning to watching me instead, enjoying looking at my face as the sun started to go down.

It got too cold for us eventually and we called all of the raptors out, the five of them soon obediently moving out into the snow and chirping happily at us. We walked together up to the castle, had dinner with our mates, and had a lovely evening all around.

In truth that’s how much of that week went. As the week started to end and the new year was upon us, I began to feel better enough to really spend my days being active, going to the Room of Requirement and talking with all of our mates. Harry was feeling better too, though still coughing a lot – Hermione was slowly beginning to realize what it meant for him to have this condition for the rest of his life.

“I’m getting used to it,” she sighed softly as we all sat in the Room together, along with Sam, Ernie, Nadia, and Ginny, all chatting with each other and playing exploding snap.

“I’m sorry I cough so much,” Harry lamented, wrapping his arms around her and holding her as tightly as he could muster.

“I just wish there was some way to know what the spell does, _exactly_ , and then maybe a counter-spell could be weaved, but… nope,” Hermione muttered.

“We can try to capture a Death Eater and torture it out of him?” Ginny offered.

“That sounds like something one of us could _totally_ do,” Neville snorted.

“Well does anyone have any better ideas, then,” Ginny harrumphed, sticking her tongue out at Neville in annoyance.

“We could ask Malfoy,” Sam suggested snidely.

“Yeah, if Valerie was making any halfway decent progress with that,” Nadia rolled her eyes.

“Hey, at least she’s talking to him. Much better than let him just be a loose canon out there,” Ernie pointed out, “He was dangerous before.”

“Is he somehow less dangerous now?” I snorted.

“I dunno, haven’t seen him,” Ernie admitted.

“He’s been really reclusive but that isn’t new either,” Nadia agreed, “I mean, he’s basically been avoiding even his mates, hasn’t he?”

“I wonder what the bloody hell is up with him?” Neville frowned.

“Maybe he’s a secret Death Eater and is on a special mission,” Sam snorted.

“Right, because Voldemort would trust that douchecanoe with such a thing,” I laughed.

“Maybe he’s being threatened to do it though?” Hermione offered.

“Yeah,” Harry nodded, “I think the fact that his dad’s in jail is what is making this happen.”

“Well, we’ll see what Valerie finally discovers,” I sighed.

“How goes recovery for you, Maggie?” Nadia asked as all of our cards exploded before our eyes in our exploding snap card castle.

“Well, pretty good,” I admitted, “Walking around a lot is really helping my limbs.”

“Oh good,” Ginny nodded.

“Seriously, you being out like that was terrifying,” Sam grunted.

“I’m sorry my rexes stepped on me, how could I have stopped that?” I protested.

“Not making them!” Ernie teased.

“I saved all of our lives!” I roared.

“It’s true,” Harry agreed, “I couldn’t have taken down another giant.”

“Well fine,” Ernie rolled his eyes.

“It was such a dark atmosphere I had to write ten poems to channel my feelings, it was mental,” Nadia sighed.

“It really was,” Ginny laughed, “I had to read them, too.”

“Oi!” Nadia protested.

“What, they were good, I just didn’t need depressing poems on top of a depressing life!” Ginny giggled.

“How dare you not get in touch with your inner emotional child –“

“I’m _constantly_ my inner emotional child –“

“Oh please, you’re chipper and cheery –“

“Room, I need a dictionary – ah, thank you – Bipolar Disorder, noun –“

“Oh come off it –“

“Any of several psychological disorders of mood characterized usually by alternating episodes of depression an dmania –“

“I know what bipolar disorder is, Gin!”

“Called also –“

“Ginnyyyy!” Nadia whined. Ginny laughed and kissed Nadia, making her laugh and Sam gag behind their backs. Ernie flicked him at this, sending Harry into peals of laughter. He laughed so hard that he started coughing and Hermione pulled out a bowl, blood splattering into it as she gently rubbed his shoulder.

“Laughter is apparently not the best medicine?” Ernie offered after a long, solemn silence. This made Harry (and the rest of us) chuckle more, making Hermione flick Ernie in annoyance.

“Oh come off it Hermione, I need to laugh, what’s life without laughter?” Harry grinned.

“Healthy, for you!” Hermione rolled her eyes, but grinned back at him anyway, resting her head on his shoulder lovingly.

“Can’t stop him from laughing forever, Hermione, that’s not nice at all,” Ernie giggled.

“Well _fine_ then,” Hermione rolled her eyes again, burying her nose in a book while nestling into Harry’s arms.

“You two are too cute. You give Magville a run for their money,” Nadia snorted.

“What now? My honor has been impeached upon!” I shouted.

“ _Magville?_ ” Neville questioned.

“How dare you! We are the cutest couple in the school, and how dare anyone imply otherwise!” I continued.

“ _Magville?_ Why the hell is our combined name _Magville_?” Neville also continued in his protest.

“No way in hell Harry and Hermione could fight against –“

“Oi, I think we can too give you a run for your money!”

“Why not Nevgie?”

“Fat chance Harry!”

“I guess when I say it out loud…”

“Please stop being so jealous of our newfound cuteness –“

“Oh bloody hell what have I started –“

“Plants and Dragons? Something other than _Magville_ …”

“We shall have to have an honest duel about it –“

“No way in hell am I letting you near a sword, Maggie!”

“Magville just sounds like a bloody American town.”

“Since when are you my mother, Hermione?”

“Since your mother died!”

“We are not the ville of Mag and I must request you never ever say that name again, Nadia –“

“Oi that was a low blow!”

“Everyone calm down!”

Neville was shaking his fist at Nadia who was grinning evilly; Harry and I were facing each other pretending to start a fight as Hermione stood between us; Sam and Ginny were laughing in balls on the floor and Ernie was shaking his head, standing near all of us and holding his hands in the air.

“Yeesh, you all are mental,” Ernie laughed.

“Takes one to know one,” Ginny pointed out.

“Fair enough,” Ernie rolled his eyes.

“What time is it getting to be, anyway?” Hermione asked, frowning.

“Nearly midnight. We should probably go to bed. _Pretend_ we follow the rules, at least. Some of us have leadership roles, hypothetically speaking, in the student population,” Nadia sighed.

“Please, I’m the worst prefect ever born,” Neville grinned.

“They really should have just given it to Harry, really,” Ginny agreed.

“Well Dumbles didn’t want to burden me any more than necessary now did he?” Harry rolled his eyes, “And I doubt everyone would have been happy with making me prefect back when I was a nutter lying about Voldy pants.”

“You’re still a nutter, mate –“

“Yes, but I am an Honest Nutter, and that is the only thing worth being in the end.”

We all laughed with Harry as we left the Room, walking through the corridors and chitchatting still, giggling and laughing together as thunder clapped outside.

“Bloody rain. It’s December! Should be snowing,” Harry protested.

“Hey, isn’t it New Year’s Eve?” Ginny asked in shock.

“Oh yeah, right,” Harry frowned.

“Can’t believe we’ve missed that,” Ernie nodded.

“It’s been a hell of a year,” Hermione sighed.

Neville tightened his hold around me, and I swallowed.

“Well, at least it’s behind us. To nineteen ninety seven?” I asked cheerfully.

“I guess it’ll happen in a few moments… three… two… one…” Harry counted from his watch.

“Happy new year!” Ginny cheered, the rest of us rolling our eyes at her.

“Since when do Wixen celebrate this, really,” Sam snorted.

“Whatever, isn’t it tradition to kiss someone at midnight?” Ginny grinned, turning to Nadia and wiggling her eyebrows.

“Amazing,” Ernie snorted.

I kissed Neville anyway, the others doing the same with their significant others, the niceness of a kiss clearly outweighing the cheesiness of doing so at midnight. We then continued walking, reaching the Gryffindor Common Room and chitchatting outside of the portrait still, not really feeling that tired.

“Alright you tossers, get to bed, all of you,” Ginny protested, “I, the literal only person still sleeping in this tower despite most of us being Gryffindors, want to get into my pajamas –“

“Sounds cozy,” Nadia grinned.

“Read a good book –“

“I’d cuddle you while you read –“

“Then head off to _bed_ –“

“All the more perfect!”

“To _sleep!_ ”

“I like watching you sleep.”

“Oh god you two are nauseating,” Sam groaned.

“You can’t come in here with me, Nadia!”

“Tell me the rule that says I can’t!”

“There’s half a dozen!”

“Oh really, wise and perfect prefect?”

“You little shit –“

A thunderclap went off outside, but it sounded quite eerily like a scream.

“What the hell?” Hermione asked. I looked over at Neville in worry and we immediately took off running, the others following us quickly.

“What are you both playing at?” Harry asked, coughing a little as we ran. Every step hurt me to my core, but I couldn’t control myself or stop myself from running.

“Someone screamed,” Neville explained.

“Come off it, it was just thunder!” Sam shouted.

“No, it was a scream, I heard it too,” Ginny agreed as we made our way down the staircases and back outside, sprinting out into the raining and storming night. We reached the Grounds and ran through the muddy grass, soaked with melting snow and endless amounts of rain.

“The Greenhouses!” Neville shouted, pointing to them, where flashes of light were going off in the night.

“Run!” Sam shouted, sprinting now, the rest of us following him and slipping in the mud soaked Earth. But as we got there, the attackers – a group of five or so Death Eaters – were already going away, running out into the Forbidden Forest and away from us. We shot curses after them, but it was too late; the rain was soaking us from head to foot as they made their way to safety.

“What the bloody hell was that?” Harry asked, spitting up blood and leaning on Neville for support.

“I have no idea,” Neville frowned.

I walked to the Greenhouse, reaching for the door as I limped towards it. The door opened in front of me and I slid out of the way, almost falling into the mud but grabbing onto the door for support. McGonagall and Dumbledore walked out, looking solemn, their faces shocked to see us all out there.

“What are _you lot_ doing out here?” McGonagall demanded.

“What was that? Who attacked you? What were they doing, they clearly weren’t trying to get the castle –“ Ernie rambled.

“MacMillan, how is that any of your –“ McGonagall continued.

“Minerva, calm down. They’ll have to find out eventually,” Dumbledore sighed, “They were attacking Pomona.”

“Sprout?” Neville shouted in shock, “Where is she?”

“They were after research she was holding –“

“My research! Where is Sprout? What happened?”

“And they tried to take it from her –“

“What is going on? Tell me! Stop avoiding the question already!”

“But she managed to fend them off just long enough for us to get out here, sent a patronus when she saw they were coming to the Greenhouses…”

“ _What happened?_ ”

“She’s dead, Longbottom,” Minerva stated, tears pouring down her face – I had first mistaken them for rain – as she said it, “Pomona’s dead.”

Neville’s face wiped clean of emotion as Dumbledore started rambling on about how his work was safe and they hadn’t gotten it, how it was some Death Eaters clearly trying to get it, but they fended them off and it would be kept somewhere safer now, but Neville was clearly not listening. He was having trouble standing up, his hand on my shoulder. I grabbed his arm and pulled him along towards the castle, not saying a word to the others as we got up to our room, standing there soaked and dripping onto the carpet.

“Neville?” I whispered. He was still staring silently, his hands shaking at his sides.

“Neville?” I repeated, desperately, reaching for his shoulder.

“It’s my fault,” he whispered.

“Wha-?”

“It’s no coincidence that this happened right after the first time I ever _talked_ about it outside of _this castle_ this happened –“

“Neville –“

“It’s all my fault. She’s dead and it’s all my fault –“

“Neville, please –“

“What have I done, nothing is worth this –“

“Neville –“

“She’s gone, Maggie, she’s gone –“

“Nev, please, Nev –“

He burst into tears and I held him against me, the two of us falling to the floor. The raptors quickly came to us and surrounded him with floof, and he sobbed wildly into Deena’s feathers.

“It’s going to be okay, Nev,” I whispered, but tears were streaming rapidly down my own face as I held him. We cried together for a long time, me holding him as tightly as I could as we did, the raptors chirping in complete distress.

“It’s all my fault,” Neville whispered again after a long while.

“No, I promise Nev, it’s not,” I murmured.

“All my fault,” Neville mumbled once more, before falling asleep in exhaustion against me. I helped him wake up, shower, and get to bed, the raptors joining us to comfort him some more.

The next day Dumbledore addressed everyone at breakfast, explaining what had happened the night before (without saying who’s research it was), everyone shocked and horrified and upset at the news. Neville just picked at his food, not saying much of anything as he did so. McGonagall came up to us at the table and lead us away, walking into the Entrance Hall, Neville just staring down at his shoes as we reached the hall.

“Neville,” McGonagall stated calmly, “Neville, we’ve moved all your work to my office. You can work with me on it now.”

“Okay,” Neville whispered hoarsely.

“It’s not your fault, Neville –“

“Yes it is.”

“Who will replace Sprout? Neville can’t do it yet,” I interjected, knowing the argument wasn’t going to go anywhere.

“We aren’t sure,” McGonagall paused, “We’re thinking Hannah Abbot’s aunt.”

“Why her?” I asked in surprise.

“She runs an apothecary, doesn’t want to be a full time teacher, and has staff who can take over for her while she’s here,” McGonagall explained, “Dumbledore sent an owl last night to her asking…”

“Is she okay that Neville would take over when he was ready?” I furthered.

“Yes, she is fine with it. Neville, it’s going to be okay,” McGonagall whispered.

“No it’s not,” Neville muttered, “No one is safe.”

“Pomona is – was – a prominent Order member and what the two of you were doing was dangerous. Someone was going to get hurt, but it’s important, so you have to keep on with it,” McGonagall insisted.

“I don’t know how,” Neville whispered, tears flowing down his face more and more as he said it. McGonagall hugged him, always a strange site, especially since he was so much taller than her. She patted his head and sighed.

“You can do it. Pomona would have wanted you to. That’s why she died to defend it,” McGonagall nodded. Neville burst into heavier tears, and I watched him cry, helpless, at a complete loss for what to do. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys. Sorry for not updating in a while. To be honest, I didn't get any comments for the last chapter. It was really discouraging, especially when it was so important. I NEED comments to update quickly, that's just how it goes. They inspire me and help me to feel motivated to write more. Without them, that motivation is gone. 
> 
> Please comment. 
> 
> Thanks.


	118. Chapter One Hundred and Sixteen: January 1 - 4, 1997, Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The road outside my house is paved with good intentions   
> Hired a construction crew, 'cause it's hell on the engine   
> You are the dreamer and we are the dream.   
> I could write it better than you ever felt it. 
> 
> So hum hallelujah,   
> Just off the key of reason   
> I thought I loved you   
> It was just how you looked in the light.   
> A teenage vow in a parking lot   
> "Till tonight do us part"   
> I sing the blues and swallow them too."   
> ~ Fall Out Boy, "Hum Hallelujah"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for Sexual Content within

Chapter 116: January 1 – 4, 1997, Hogwarts

The funeral for Sprout was to take place three days into the new year, to give students time to come back and to give adults time to visit.

“She will be buried here on the Grounds, near the Greenhouses she devoted her life to,” Dumbledore announced at dinner on the first, “In honor of her sacrifice to our school, and to our safety.”

Neville poked solemnly at his food, not moving or saying much as Dumbledore talked. I wrapped my arms tightly around him, but there was no way to get him out of this mood.  Hermione looked at me worriedly and I shrugged silently, not even knowing what to say about it.

“We have since found an interim professor of Herbology, Professor Abbot. Professor Abbot will be taking over the post until Neville Longbottom has graduated and will be able to teach it,” Dumbledore continued. Everyone looked over in Neville’s direction but he further buried himself in his dinner, his nose practically touching it as he hunched over the table. I just rubbed his shoulder more in a vain attempt to comfort him.

“Professor Babbling, meanwhile, will take over the post of Head of Hufflepuff House,” Dumbledore continued, “She has been a professor here at Hogwarts for nearly twenty years and as such I’m sure Hufflepuff will be in excellent hands under her guidance…”

Ernie at the Hufflepuff table was visibly crying into his goblet, as were many of the Hufflepuff students.

“This has been a major loss for all of us. The Death Eaters have taken countless of our friends, families, and now teachers. We cannot let their violence and their hatred stand, and nor will we let it break us. The school governors may call for us to close the school, but I am determined to keep it open in Pomona’s memory, as she would have wanted. If your parents want to take you out of the school, remind them that she died defending your right to be inquisitive, to learn, to try and understand the world around you and that to leave the school would be to make her sacrifice meaningless –“

Neville got up from the table and quickly left the room. I looked at Hermione and Harry in shock and they nodded to me, me running on my own to him as he left the Great Hall. He was walking up the stairs by the time I got out there, sprinting towards him to grab ahold of his arm and pull him back.

“Nev,” I whispered, my voice hoarse. He turned to face me, tears streaming down his face.

“What?” he asked softly.

“Neville, it’s not your fault,” I reassured.

“I’m not – it is, but that’s not why I’m crying,” he whispered.

“Okay, then why?” I asked, sitting down on the stairs and pulling him to sit down with me. He rested his head against my shoulder, crying still, his tears soaking my shirt and making me hold him tighter to me.

“Does he have any respect for her? At all? That was so… I don’t know. Everything’s going to shit, Maggie, and I think Sprout deserves better than these things Dumbledore’s doing. He’s just being so disrespectful. I just think we need to take time to honor her. Not why she _died_ , which he is _certainly_ oversimplifying to prove some sort of sick point, but who she was when she was alive, and how she helped all of us, and how much she meant to all of us – no one can replace her, they replaced her so fast, how could they have respected her if they just went up and filled her post in a _day_ , I don’t – it’s been less than twenty four hours – I –“ Neville burst into sobs again, and I squeezed him tighter, wrapping my arms as much around him as I could.

“Dumbledore’s being Dumbledore. He’s a chessmaster, moving all the little pieces around the board to get us to do what he wants us to do,” I whispered softly into his hair, “He just wants us to fight his battles for him and win this war. And I mean, someone has to do that, I suppose. Someone has to direct the army. But part of that comes with not seeing us as people. I mean think of how he’s been manipulating Harry since… since he was born, right?”

Neville nodded, looking up at me and wiping off his eyes.

“I mean, he hid Harry and his family away, and then sent Harry to mine, and never told him or us anything about our world, and then just threw us into it bluntly, and it was all just this game to him, he’s just playing chess against Voldemort, and we’re all their pawns, but if we let Voldemort win then we’re all doomed, so we just have to shut up and do what Dumbledore wants us to,” I muttered, anger rising in my chest and filling me with a fire I had not felt in ages, “Even if that means being furious with him when he says shit like this.”

Neville nodded again and sighed deeply, holding his face in his hands.

“I should never have talked about it outside of the castle.”

“You couldn’t have known there were spies in the village.”

“I should be more careful. I have to be, don’t I?”

“What do you mean?” I asked him softly.

“I mean, they know about it now. That’s why they attacked. I not only have to be careful about where I keep it, what I’m doing, and how far along I am but – but – I have to finish it soon. I have to find what I’m looking for, I have to finish this project or just – just – just scrap it. Or else they’ll scoop it out from under my nose and kill more people in the process,” Neville took a deep breath, “And I have to finish it. I can’t… she died so I would finish and I can’t let that go to waste.”

“I believe in you, Neville,” I whispered.

Neville nodded, silently staring out in front of him, “Can you help me? I need all the help I can get.”

“I absolutely can and will help you,” I nodded rapidly.

“Thank you Maggie,” Neville whispered, “I just… I just can’t shake this feeling that I am responsible. That I am the direct reason she is dead.”

“You’re not, Neville. She knew what she was getting into, joining the Order of the Phoenix, helping you with a project that could change… everything. She knew what she was doing and she knew the risks. The person than killed her is the Death Eater that cast the curse, no one else,” I murmured reassuringly.

Neville nodded, tears pouring down his face again, before whispering, “Who do you think did it?”

“I have no idea. Didn’t get a good look at the Death Eaters who were even here,” I sighed, “Makes it hard to guess.”

“Would he have sent high level Death Eaters in to steal this? I have no idea,” Neville mumbled.

“I don’t think they were lackies. I think they were probably very good Death Eaters, at the least. Attacking Hogwarts is risky. There are two tyrannosaurs, right outside the door,” I grinned. Neville managed a weak smile back at me.

“But why would they kill her? To get a research project? They could have just stunned her, took it, and ran,” Neville shook his head, “There are so many other ways to get my research that didn’t involve murder. I just… I can only think it was one person.”

“You don’t know it was her,” I whispered.

“She loves to torture me. She loves to take the things I love away from me and laughs while she does it. Who else would volunteer for a mission like this and use such force? I just… how much more will Bellatrix take from me?” Neville mumbled so quietly I could barely hear him.

“You don’t know it was her,” I insisted, “And besides that, you can’t assume it was her even if it was. Because if you get this… vendetta against her, it’ll blind you. You have more important things to worry about.”

Neville nodded silently, staring at his shoes, “Isn’t it my right to have a vendetta against her?”

“I mean… she took a lot from you. I’m not arguing with that. But you can’t let her win. And being so focused on destroying her that you… lose yourself in the process – because that’s, that’s what would happen – you’ve let her win, in a way. You have to keep going with your project, you have to help with the rebellion, you have to continue to go to school, you have to be with your friends and me and enjoy life, and you… if you ever run into her and have your chance, then you can wipe her from the face of the earth, but until then, you just have to live your life in spite of her,” I murmured, “Okay?”

“Okay,” Neville agreed softly, kissing me on the forehead, “Thank you Mags.”

“Of course Nev,” I paused, “I’m sorry she’s gone.”

“Thank you,” Neville nodded, swallowing thickly, “I doubt Hannah’s aunt will have much to teach me.”

“Well, you can just keep plugging away,” I paused, “I’m sure Sprout didn’t have much to teach you at this point, either.”

“No, probably not,” Neville admitted, “We were just doing research at this point and… I think… I think I can continue that on my own. Well, the plant stuff anyway. The gene stuff I still need help, but… but I’m going to do it. I can do it.”

“I believe in you Nev,” I nodded, “I really, really do.”

Neville smiled weakly at me and kissed me again. I kissed him back lovingly and slowly, running my fingers through his hair and pressing him up against me. He made a small sound of joy at the motion and pulled me up from the steps, walking with me back to our room, holding to me tightly with his arms. I gently led him into our room and shut the door behind us, turning to him to pull him in for a long kiss again.

“I’m torn,” he whispered softly, “Between wanting to live because… because she would want me to, obviously, and… and… and not feeling much joy in anything because she was taken away from me.”

“Well it’s up to you, Nev. I’m here to help you however you need me to,” I promised.

“Thank you Mags,” he choked out, kissing me again. I pulled him as close to me as I could, my limbs feeling much better after a week of use (though not back to normal yet, of course), and ran my fingers through his hair. He made a small sound that was a mixture between sadness and love, and I pulled him down with me onto our bed, wrapping all of my limbs around him as I settled us to be side by side. He continued to kiss me, his lips massaging mine gently and methodically, his arms so tightly wrapped around me that I could barely wriggle about within them. I managed to move my arms enough to run my hands up and down his back, before reaching for the hem of his shirt and pulling it up over his head.

**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**

He returned to kissing me vigorously, his hands now pawing for my shirt as I eagerly pulled it up off of my head. Neville was kissing me so desperately that I was worried about continuing; I quickly pulled back as he reached for my bra behind my back, his face pressed up into my shoulder as he did so.

“Are you sure, Nev?” I whispered. We had had sex plenty – _plenty_ – of times since the first, interrupting Harrys or not. But this was much more desperate series of kisses – much more urgent, pleading, and almost reckless. I had made a large batch of potion early in the week and nice, single portioned vials were kept in my nightstand, but I didn’t want him to rush into it if he was just trying to channel his grief.

He nodded rapidly, more tears coming to his eyes that I quickly kissed away.

“Nev, you don’t seem sure. You’re acting kind of recklessly.”

“I want to –“

“I don’t doubt that you want to, I’m just… do you want to because you want to, or because you want to feel something other than sad?” I whispered.

“Why can’t it be both?” Neville mumbled.

“Because I don’t want you to do something you might regret – to just, throw yourself into sex and feel empty afterwards. I know what that’s like, that impulse, and I don’t want you to fall down that hole,” I explained softly.

“I doubt I could feel empty with you,” Neville murmured.

“It’s not about – me – or who you’re doing it with – it’s the emotions behind it. It’s the reasons for it. I dunno, trying to use sex to forget something painful it just – it doesn’t really work in the long run,” I insisted.

“I guess you’d know,” Neville sighed.

“I would indeed, that,” I rolled my eyes. He mumbled sadly and pressed his face into my neck again, me pulling it back out to kiss him all over, everywhere I could reach.

“I’m sorry Nev. I love you, and I’d love to have sex – you _know_ I would –“

Neville grinned a little, his cheeks flushing at memories.

“But I don’t want us to do it just – for this sort of reason, okay?” I murmured.

“I need comfort,” he whispered.

“That’s different,” I reassured.

“It is?”

“Yeah,” I nodded, “It’s not you trying to… forget your emotions. It’s different. It’s you trying to work through them, feeling them and acknowledging them while doing something to comfort yourself while you do so,” I paused, “Not actively trying to forget these emotions exist.”

“Alright,” Neville whispered, “So what happens, then?”

“You don’t vigorously make love to me and try to forget you’re sad while you do it,” I laughed.

“What _do_ I do, then?” he begged.

“You think about how sad you are, while I take care of you,” I murmured. He nodded, his lip trembling a little just with the thoughts, as I gently kissed him. I massaged his lips lovingly with mine as he wrapped his arms around me, tears leaking from his eyes as I kissed them gently away. He watched my every move as I reached to pull off my bra, pulling him gently into my bosom by the back of his neck. He murmured happily, his voice coming out with a choked sob, as he rubbed his head against my breasts and gently kissed them, rolling them between his fingers and rubbing the nipples gently with his thumbs. He moved, then, to press his head up against my chest, his ear right against my heart as he listened to it beat underneath him. He rested there for a while, tears still pouring down his cheeks as I wiped them away steadily, before trailing kisses back up to me and leaving his lips against my mouth.

“I love you,” I murmured, “You’re going to be okay. I promise.”

He nodded, crying a little bit again, before returning to kiss me. We kissed each other softly and gently and methodically, me wrapping my arms tightly around him and pulling him close to me. He moaned more into my mouth, rubbing his body slowly and surely against mine. I moved to his hips, gently reaching for the front of his pants and pulling them off of him, helping him shimmy his legs free of the garment. He moaned softly, looking at me desperately as I pulled him in for a long kiss, him reaching for my own jeans and helping them off of me. I quickly turned to take a swig of one of the potions, gulping down the vial before turning back to pull him close to me.

Neville was lying on top of me, staring down at me nervously, now swallowing and no longer crying.

“Is this okay? We should switch to the usual –“ he rambled.

“No, I want to try this again,” I reassured.

“I… I don’t know if I can handle you having a flashback, Mags,” Neville mumbled.

“I don’t think I will,” I promised, “We have had sex enough times now. I think I can remember it’s you well enough. I promise.”

“Okay,” Neville nodded. He gently reached to pull down my underwear, reaching to rub me gently as he did so. I reached for his boxers as he rubbed my clit slowly and methodically, moaning in a low pitched voice with every touch. He groaned in response, his voice growing louder as I reached for his penis, the two of us rubbing each other and running our free hands all over each other’s bodies. Neville traced small kisses from my jaw to my neck, methodically planting them on my sensitive skin while caressing my body.

“Oh Nev,” I whispered hoarsely, pulling him into a deep kiss as he moaned into my mouth.

“I love you,” Neville whispered, looking down at me adoringly, making me shiver from my toes to my head. I stroked his cheek gently and ran my fingers along his lips, making him shiver with me.

“I love you,” I murmured. He smiled weakly, tears filling his eyes again, before kissing me passionately once more and sliding inside of me. I moaned softly and kissed him gently, staring deeply into his eyes while I did so. The soft brown comforted me, as did his arms wrapped tightly around me. Any flicker of memory of the library was gone the moment our noses touched, his lips gently pressing into mine as he started to move his hips slowly and gently against me, sliding in and out of me as methodically as possible.

“Oh Mags,” he groaned, gripping my shoulders tightly as he held me up against him.

I moaned loudly at the feeling of him gently sliding in and out of me, filling me up and overwhelming me with him. He whimpered and gently kissed every inch of my face, his eyes soft and loving as we moved against each other. He moved one of his arms down to my butt and pressed it up against him, rubbing my clit against his body as he thrusted in and out of me. I groaned louder and rubbed my hips up against him in time with his thrusts, whimpering his name softly against the skin of his lips.

Neville groaned loudly and reached to gently rub and massage my breasts, rolling it in his hand as he continued to hold me close to him with the other. I gripped his hair, gasping and groaning with every thrust as he continued to move back and forth inside of me.

“Why – are you – going – so slow?” I managed to gasp out between moans, the feeling of the friction inside of me driving me wild.

“Don’t want to cum too soon,” he grunted against my neck as he started trailing kisses along it again.

I moaned softly and gripped his shoulders tightly in my hands, now ramming my hips a little harder against his. He moaned loudly at that and moved faster as a result, the two of us moving quicker and more needfully against each other. He pulled back from my neck and stared into my eyes again, the two of us not breaking eye contact as our hips rammed against each other faster and faster. He wrapped his arm around my shoulder tightly and then reached with the other one for my clit, rubbing it so fast that I screamed his name loudly into the air. He matched immediately by screaming mine, humping me faster so that I couldn’t even think anymore. I started shivering underneath his touch and I practically saw stars, gasping and breathing out a chorus of Nevilles as he essentially rammed me into the bed.

My entire body was shivering with pleasure so violently that he could barely hold me to him, his grip tight against my shoulder blade as I screamed his name over and over again. His body was shaking too, clearly trying to hold on as he slipped and slide in and out of me so fast I couldn’t form one coherent thought. He frantically rubbed my clit, playing with it so furiously and so fast that I finally exploded around him, my body squeezing him over and over again with indescribable pleasure as I screamed his name so loud I was sure McGonagall’s charms wouldn’t be able to contain it. He groaned with me, screaming my name in response as I felt him quickly explode inside of me, hot liquid filling me up and pouring down back around him as we came together.

I collapsed against the bed and pulled him with me as we rode out the shockwaves, moaning softly and running my hands all over his sweaty body. He moaned with me, holding me lovingly against him and kissing my forehead softly.

“Are you okay?” he managed to pant out, pulling back to look at me nervously.

“Yeah, yeah I’m okay. How are you?” I asked, kissing him on the nose lovingly.

“I’m still sad,” Neville mumbled, “But that helped. Thank you love.”

“Of course Neville,” I smiled, “Of course.”

We got dressed and returned to cuddling, him still crying fairly regularly, but me comfortingly him quite well with gentle caresses and hugs.

**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**

And he remained much like that until Sprout’s funeral.

Many people crowded to the castle for her funeral. Almost every Hufflepuff who had had her as their head; every student came back from holiday; and every Order member crowded into the castle, as well as other students who had appreciated her. Neville looked awkward in his formal dress robes, still sniffling somewhat as he stared around at the proceedings.

“Just look at everyone who cared about her, Nev,” I whispered, “Just look at them.”

He nodded, smiling a watery smile at me as I suppressed my own tears. I had loved Sprout – Herbology had always been one of my favorite subjects, and she had meant so much to Neville. Neville squeezed my hand tightly at my watery eyes, us joining the group of mourners as we walked down the grounds. It was snowing again; the warm days around New Years finally letting up and returning to proper temperatures.

Ernie quickly walked up to us, looking at us solemnly. Neville immediately hugged him and the two cried together, arguably the two current students who had been closest to Sprout.

We entered the crowd, dozens of people all coming up to us with sad expressions. Ginny was talking to her older brother Bill, who I recognized enough from fourth year. I walked over to them, smiling weakly at Bill and Charlie, who was also there.

“Hi,” I said softly.

“HI Maggie,” Bill reached over and hugged me, “How have you been?”

“I’m alright,” I paused, “I’m s –“

“Don’t be sorry. You are not at fault for what George did. I’m sorry I didn’t see it coming,” Bill paused, “I should have been a better older brother.”

“You couldn’t have known,” Ginny sighed, “Don’t blame yourself. I had no idea either… I mean, I knew he was abusive, but I didn’t know he’d do _that_.”

“Let’s not dwell on it anymore. I just wanted you to know that I don’t blame the rest of you,” I paused, “I love all of you very much.”

“Thank you Maggie,” Bill smiled weakly.

“Yeah, thanks,” Charlie paused, “How are you and the other dragons?”

“They’re doing okay. Mostly fighting up north now, against the giants there,” I sighed, “I’m stuck here.”

“Probably for the best,” Charlie frowned, “You’re still young, you know.”

“So they say,” I frowned as a thin black woman walked up to us. She was around Bill and Charlie’s age, with medium skin and short, curly black hair. She was somewhat athletic and smiled at me kindly.

“Hi,” she reached out her hand, “Adie.”

“Maggie,” I greeted, “Were you in Hufflepuff?”

“Yeah,” she sighed, “I was in Bill’s year, I was the Head Girl to his Head Boy.”

“She’s been working with me in the Order, doing some stuff with the Goblins,” Bill nodded, “I was with her when the news broke…”

“It affected me hard,” Adie sighed, “She was a great professor. I really loved Herbology.”

“Yeah, Neville’s really been hit hard too,” I agreed softly.

“He’s set to replace her, isn’t he?” Charlie asked.

“When he’s graduated, yeah,” I shrugged, sighing, “I think that’s the furthest thing from his mind right now.” I looked back over to him and Ernie, who were crying together and talking with some other Hufflepuffs and Herbology enthusiasts.

“I can only imagine,” Bill sighed.

“I just hope that she died for a good reason,” Adie muttered softly.

“I think she did,” I reassured. Dumbledore then said something to the crowd and I quickly ran to rejoin Neville, all of us taking seats on the grounds and huddling for warmth in the cold.

“Professor Sprout was a woman who we all will miss dearly…” Dumbledore began, but I wasn’t in the mood to hear his lip service at the moment. I was tired, and sad, and I didn’t want to hear it. I gently rested my head against Neville’s shoulder, nuzzling against it as he kissed the top of my head. Tears flowed heavily from his eyes and into my hair and I squeezed him tightly in my arms, gently caressing his arms and back as Dumbledore rambled on. Ernie was clearly trying to look dignified next to us, but he was still crying anyway, Sam squeezing his hand tightly and looking at him in sadness.

“Look at all the people who loved her, Nev,” I whispered softly. He nodded, more tears coming out of his eyes as I held him all the tighter. Harry and Hermione were next to us at the end of the row, Hermione crying quite a lot and Harry joining in.

“Now,” Dumbledore said, and the word was distinctive enough to call my attention back to his speech, “I’d like to hear a few words from the current students who knew her best. Mr. Macmillan, if you please –“

Ernie got up next to us, shimming out to the front before walking out to the stage. He wiped off his eyes and sniffled a little, swallowing and staring out into the crowd.

“Hello,” he croaked softly, sniffling again, “I am – I am the male Hufflepuff sixth year prefect. I’m… I’m in Dumbledore’s Army, or the Teenager’s Rebellion or whatever they call it these days. And I’m a trans man,” he paused, “You know, my parents said – my parents said when I was growing up that I had to be careful. That people would want to hurt me for who I was. And they were right, plenty of people have wanted to and have succeeded in hurting me. But you know who never did? Pomona Sprout.”

Neville smiled weakly, squeezing my hand tightly.

“See, first year, I was really afraid about taking my hormones on my own. I’d always – I always had my parents’ help when I did it. I didn’t want to mix up the pills or the dosages and everything had such funny names. I was so scared, but Hogwarts had said that our Heads were supposed to help us – to be like a surrogate parent while we were away from home. And so – so I went to her office and I explained that I had these medications and I didn’t know how to take them. And I was so afraid, I didn’t even say what they were for. But Pomona sat down with me and read over the baggies and bottles and talked with me, explaining what each pill did and she didn’t – she didn’t even judge me at all. And she often would just take me into her office that year, to talk about being trans because – because she was trans herself. This isn’t something many people know, but she wasn’t ashamed of it… if you asked her, she would tell you. She was one of the first that got the surgeries and the medication from the Ministry, back when they still did that,” Ernie paused, swallowing heavily. Neville next to me was crying even more so now.

 “She loved to talk to me about my experiences and reassure me about everything. Last year, when Umbridge forbade students from talking to professors about things other than their subject matter… she would sneak me notes anyway, talking to me and reassuring me that everything would be okay, even when Umbridge was determined to make me, essentially, destroy myself. Without her, I don’t think I would have gotten through the year,” Ernie took a deep, shaking breath, and I felt more tears fall out of my eyes at the sight and the thoughts.

“She was a wonderful mentor, a wonderful teacher, a friend, and to many of us an extra parent. She meant a lot to a lot of us, and it’s really telling that she died for us… that she died for our school. I’ll never forget her,” Ernie took in another shaking breath, “I wish she wasn’t gone… I wish that this hadn’t happened… but… I know she wouldn’t have wanted to go out any other way.”

Ernie stepped down from the front, crying more heavily now, walking back to our row and sitting next to Sam. Sam held him tightly in his arms, gently stroking his shoulder and kissing his forehead.

“Now, if you would like, I think we’d like to hear some words from Neville Longbottom, the student that Pomona Sprout was training to be her successor…” Dumbledore continued.

Neville looked stricken – Dumbledore clearly hadn’t asked him to speak. He got up, shaking, walking out into the crowd and up to the front. I wanted to go to him, but I couldn’t seem to find the movement in my legs, and I knew that it would have looked odd for me to do so. I instead gripped the sides of my chair, gnawing my teeth in nervousness.

“I…” Neville began, but he looked ill up on the podium, his face slightly green as he looked out at everyone. He was also clearly still tearstained, and he looked so alone and frightened that I was torn to bits not being able to join him up there.

“I… I…” Neville whispered, shaking even, his knuckles white as he gripped the podium set up there. He looked down for a minute, and looking down seemed to add anger to his list of emotions – he squeezed his eyes tightly shut before looking up at everyone again.

“Public… speaking… isn’t… my… thing,” he whispered softly.

I leaned in my seat as though to run up to him. I had to help him down from there.

“But I loved her,” he murmured, “And I don’t think I need to say… anything more.” He then managed to drag himself down from the podium, pulling himself back to our chair. Harry got up then, as I pulled Neville into my arms to comfort him and sooth him, walking up to the podium and staring out into the crowd.

“My best mate isn’t one for speeches,” Harry paused, “But he did love her. Frankly, Pomona Sprout was the mother that he never had. Because he didn’t,” Harry sighed, squeezing his eyes tightly shut, “And I can’t even imagine… well, I can imagine. See, I lost my surrogate mother too.”

Neville cried harder, gripping me tightly in his arms as he did so.

“We’ve… all, lost a lot of people. People we shouldn’t lose. I lost my surrogate parents – my sisters, their actual parents. I lost my actual parents. Neville lost Sprout – we all did, that’s why… that’s why we’re all here. The Weasleys, have lost their father. Many of us have lost dear friends to this war. There’s too much loss. Too much bloodshed. Too many dead,” he breathed in shakily, “And I wish it could stop. I want it to stop.”

Everyone was hanging desperately onto his words. I was crying silently at being reminded of Mum and Dad – no – now I was sobbing horrifically. Neville held onto me tighter and we gripped each other needfully, crying desperately over our losses of the past year, losses we shouldn’t have had to have.

I missed them so much.

“They’re not… symbols. They’re wastes. Every death because of this war is a waste. Not that their lives were wastes – I mean the opposite. I mean they should have continued to live. Every life taken by the Ministry and the Death Eaters is a complete and total waste. We shouldn’t have to stand for it any more. We shouldn’t have to take it anymore – take the losses anymore,” Harry continued, swallowing heavily.

“Sprout was a wonderful teacher. A wonderful mentor. A wonderful caretaker. She loved her students – clearly – and she wanted the best for them. She wanted the best so much for them that she was willing to die to protect their work and their learning. She was a wonderful person, a wonderful kind person, who was still very… much a teacher,” Harry laughed weakly, “She wouldn’t put up with your shit. I’ve heard many a humorous tale… you have no idea… or maybe you do… the shenanigans people get up to in the Greenhouses…”

A small chuckle went up in the crowd. I joined in, remembering our awkward encounter and unable to help myself. Neville did too.

“And she was sassy… she had such an attitude, you know? The jokes she would make in class about us all… we’ll all miss her so much,” Harry sighed, “And none of them are just another number. None of them. The Death Eaters and sometimes the Ministry took so many people away from us – and I mean, the Ministry took them all away from us, indirectly, for refusing to change – but they aren’t numbers in a crowd. They’re individual people who we loved and knew and were affected by and affected, and they were wonderful, and we won’t ever let them be forgotten.”

Neville smiled weakly at him, and Harry looked heartened at this, continuing to speak.

“We will remember her every time we look at plants… every time we work with herbs in our potions… and as we fight for our freedom. For our freedom from this society that wants to demonize us and place us in boxes and refuses, absolutely refuses, to consider that maybe, _maybe_ , we should change the way we’ve always done things… Sprout firmly believed we needed to change. That we needed to move forward. I know that. Neville knows that. Ernie knows that. And she will not have died for this in vain. Thank you,” Harry nodded, before getting down. Everyone clapped extensively, and even though more people came up to speak, no one’s speech had quite the impact his did.

In fact, the next day, rallies went up all around the country for the rebellion – rallies echoing Harry’s words.

“I didn’t mean to start more street fights,” Harry groaned, staring at the paper as we all went to breakfast.

“No, but you did give the rebellion the push they needed after the Backlash started,” Hermione murmured, lovingly patting him on the shoulder and massaging his arm.

“I just… wanted to honor her… for Neville,” Harry muttered.

“You did,” Neville whispered, “Thank you. So much.”

“Of course,” Harry nodded.

“Everyone loved it. That’s why this is all happening,” Ginny paused, frowning, “I think we need to get back to it. We have a lot of work to do.”

“No more vacation?” Nadia sighed, illegally sitting at the Gryffindor table to cuddle with Ginny and talk to all of us. Ernie and Sam, who would usually join in when she did this, were seemingly nowhere to be found. I was worried about them – Ernie was the only person who rivaled Neville in their grief over Sprout. He truly was a wreck.

“No,” Hermione agreed sadly, “I don’t think so.”

“Well, probably for the best,” Nadia paused thoughtfully, “It’s been too quiet since… well, Maggie went unconscious.”

“Oh yeah,” I paused thoughtfully, “I guess I’m allowed to speak again, aren’t I?”

“Yeah, it’s the new year,” Ginny nodded.

“Huh,” I frowned, “Maybe I should come on some speaking circuits.”

“I think it would really cheer everyone to see you out there talking,” Hermione agreed.

“I’ll come with,” Neville sighed, “I can’t do much speaking but I’ll come with.”

“You want to make sure she’s safe,” Harry stated calmly. Neville frowned and nodded, looking at me apologetically.

“I understand,” I smiled slightly, “If he was going to speak, I’d insist on the same.”

Neville smiled weakly and kissed my forehead.

“At any rate, I’ll start getting that set up,” Ginny nodded, “I think people will be heartened by it.”

“Great,” Nadia smiled weakly, kissing her.

“I better go,” Neville sighed softly.

“Where are you going?” I asked in confusion, squeezing his hand tightly in mine.

“Research. I don’t want to waste any time,” Neville whispered. I nodded and got up with him, waving at the others and walking towards McGonagall’s office together.

“I just… I don’t want to dishonor her memory. I want to get started and figure this out as fast as possible,” Neville explained as we walked.

“I agree,” I paused, a sound distracting me as we walked through the corridor, “What was that?”

“I… am not sure,” Neville paused, “It came from over here…”

I followed Neville cautiously, pulling out my wand and looking at the direction he was walking in nervously. Neville pulled out his own wand and aimed it at the door to a closet, pointing it carefully and opening the door slowly.

I jumped back in shock to see Sam and Ernie, snogging inside of the closet, Ernie having a tear streaked face and both of them absolutely shirtless. There was also the added bonus feature of seeing Sam with his hands down Ernie’s pants.

They rapidly broke away from each other to look at us in shock, Sam still having his hand in Ernie’s pants, as Neville’s mouth dropped open in shock.

“I’m… going… to go,” I said slowly, biting my lip to hold back my laughter as I turned on my heels and walked down the hallway. Neville quickly closed the door and followed me, giggling into his hand harder than he had in days.

“That was hysterical,” I snorted, looking at Neville in complete amusement.

“Oh my god – I legitimately thought it was some sort of Death Eater spy – oh my god –“ Neville roared with laughter, leaning on my shoulder and giggling so uncontrollably it made my heart soar.

“Well it’s good to know life is still _somewhat_ normal,” I laughed, holding my chest as it hurt from all the laughter.

“Oh my god – that cheered me – come on let’s go to McGonagall’s,” he sniggered.

“I can’t believe that. They need to learn to use the Room of Requirement like normal people!” I giggled.

“Oh man they really do – I just – what the heck is going through their minds when they do these things…” Neville shook his head in bemusement.

“Probably ‘I want to shag him right this moment quick let’s do it here’?” I offered. Neville giggled even more, kissing me lovingly on the top of my head.

“Remember, love,” I laughed, “Not everyone has the luxury of their own bedroom like we do.”

“Ah yes,” Neville agreed, “Such a sad life that must be.”

“Too bad they don’t need their own room for sleep and McGonagall would see through their plea for a shagging room,” I giggled.

“Oh man just imagine her face!” Neville laughed.

We continued to laugh hysterically at the very thought of Ernie and Sam asking McGonagall for their own room. I was clearly picturing in my head her whacking them with a rolled up _Daily Prophet_ and shouting at them that she was not in the business of helping students to shag all over the castle. We walked there together quickly, McGonagall looking at us in complete confusion as we entered the door.

“What’s gotten into you lot then?” she asked in surprise as we sat down together, still giggling uncontrollably.

“We just… er… never mind,” I laughed. The picture of her whacking Ernie and Sam was still in my head, and was much too funny to give up.

“It cheered me up, Professor, that’s all,” Neville sniggered, “Er… I’m ready to focus. A lot, on my project. I want to do her proud. I really do.”

“Alright then,” McGonagall rolled her eyes, “Good. Maggie, I thought about what we should do.”

“Yeah?” I asked, looking at her in confusion as Neville started intensely studying his charts and drawing up runes for them, working and focusing so hard I couldn’t control the bursts of pride that flooded me.

“Well, I don’t think whatever it is should compete with the rexes for the land,” McGonagall explained.

“No, obviously not,” I agreed, “That would end in disaster. On that note –“

“Yes?” McGonagall asked.

“I er… I’d like to look into ways of making my transfigurations permanent in case… er…” I sighed.

“In case you died and the spell wore off?” McGonagall asked bluntly. I nodded solemnly, Neville clearly trying to tune it out.

“Yeah,” I sighed again.

“We’ll work on it. There are definitely ways, given the place we’re standing in. Don’t worry, I’ll work fast,” McGonagall paused, “But your next project.”

“Yes,” I agreed, “What would impress the committee.”

“I think you’ve done enough of that,” McGonagall paused, “Castle defense that won’t compete with the rexes, that’s what I’m focusing on.”

“What do you have in mind?” I asked.

She pulled out the book I had given to her and pointed to a page. On that page was a dinosaur standing in a river, hunting fish and wading inside of it.

“ _Suchomimus_?” I asked in surprise. She nodded.

“I think that would make a nice addition to the lake, don’t you?” she asked.

I grinned, nodding slightly at her.

“Just make one this time, though,” she wagged her finger. I laughed and set to work, Neville plugging away next to me.

We certainly were not giving up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW. Thank you all for your comments - holy crap thank you! I really really need that. Man, it's no coincidence that I am updating so soon - it's because of all your wonderful feedback! Please, please keep it up - let's keep this momentum going! Thank you so so so so much! Please comment!


	119. Chapter One Hundred and Seventeen: January 5 - 11, 1997, Hogwarts, Cardiff, Liverpool, Edinburgh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Somewhere between happy, and total fucking wreck   
> Feet sometimes on solid ground, sometimes at the edge   
> To spend your waking moments, simply killing time   
> Is to give up on your hopes and dreams, to give up on your... 
> 
> Life for you, (who we are) has been less than kind   
> So take a number, (who we are) stand in line   
> We've all been sorry, (who we are) we've all been hurt   
> But how we survive, (who we are) is what makes us who we are"   
> ~ Rise Against, "Survive"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for disturbing content at the end of the chapter

Chapter 117: January 5 – 11, 1997, Hogwarts, Cardiff, Liverpool, Edinburgh

The one downside to Neville burying himself in his research was that he did disappear into it. Term finally started back up again and he spent all of his free time in McGonagall’s office, pouring over his data sheets and arithmancy charts.

“I’m sorry Mags,” Neville sighed as we went to bed late once again, me grabbing him tightly in my arms from having missed him during the day, “I just want to finish this.”

“I know,” I sighed, “And you should. You should work hard. I just miss you.”

“Well when I finish this, I’ll need your help to write about it, so there’s that,” Neville nodded firmly. I smiled at him, kissing him lovingly on the cheek.

“I will happily help. And we’ll have Hermione proofread,” I grinned. Neville grinned back, kissing me again, seemingly heartened by the promise of aid in his work.

Things seemed to be going well in general when it came to our lives in the new term. The trans clinics were running expertly, my joints and limbs were finally returning to normal, and we had scheduled more speeches for the upcoming weekend.

“Seriously though, the clinics have raised hundreds and hundreds of galleons for their medicine and surgeries will be coming right around the corner,” Ernie cheered as we all hung out in the Room of Requirement again; Ron and Luna grinning sheepishly at the praise, “I can’t believe how well this has gone.”

“Well we’ll keep the momentum up!” Luna cheered, “We couldn’t have done it without all of your help, you guys.”

“Of course we were happy to,” Harry grinned.

“I hope we can afford to do outreach. Young kids aren’t being notified anymore if they’re trans and it’s best to know early to get the right hormones,” Ron paused, sighing, “Ernie, how is your dad doing on getting the trans lists from the Ministry?”

“He’s asking around and trying to play up whatever political clout he has left,” Ernie frowned, “Which isn’t much, but he is trying, I promise.”

“I could ask my mum to help?” Claire offered, pursing her lips together thoughtfully, “She has some influence over there, more so than others at any rate, and she definitely could strengthen your dad’s case.”

“That would be great, if you can get her to do that,” Ernie beamed, “I’m sure my dad would appreciate it.”

“I’ll owl her tomorrow,” Claire nodded.

 

“So who’s going to Cardiff this weekend?” Elena asked, setting down her book and looking over at me worriedly.

“I’m not sure,” I frowned, “I know I am, because I’m allowed to speak again now and the Rebellion would probably like to see me.”

“I’ll probably go too, then,” Kat murmured, “I feel more comfortable speaking if you’re around.”

“Sounds good,” I smiled at her.

“Then I’m going too,” Pete nodded firmly.

“Pete…” Kat sighed.

“You can’t stop me. People have gotten hurt on these things,” Pete shook his head rapidly.

“He has a point Kat,” Elena agreed.

“Fine,” Kat shrugged, “Who else, then?”

“I can go if you’d like,” Dean offered, “Haven’t been in a while.”

“I don’t know if we want the next rally to be you fighting the good fight for muggle magical inter health care,” Hermione frowned, “We need to show the public that we’re willing to be at least understanding to the status quo. Understanding, not lenient, but understanding. The health care fight is one of those things that is too risky because of how controversial it is.”

“It’s controversial within the Rebellion, too,” Ginny agreed, “No one can agree on a solution.”

Dean sighed heavily and angrily, “But ignoring it is not going to make it go away.”

“No,” Hermione agreed, “But we shouldn’t deal with it now. Later, when we’ve stabilized our new momentum.”

“Fine,” Dean harrumphed, turning back to his game of chess with Seamus, who grimaced at him apologetically.

“Should we send out a large group? Peripheral people, that sort of thing?” Harry asked.

“I don’t think so,” Hermione shook her head, “I think whoever we send should be be small numbers. The really well known of us who the public will be happy to see.”

“Seems fair,” Harry agreed.

“So Cardiff? Where else are we going?” I asked.

“We’re scheduled to be in Cardiff on Friday, Liverpool on Saturday, and Edinburgh again on Sunday,” Hermione explained, “Should be a full weekend.”

“We do have classes this week now, you know,” Neville laughed.

“Well you can stay home if you’d like to work on your research project, we’d all understand,” Hermione rolled her eyes.

“I love how you don’t even acknowledge that I was talking about classes you just skip right to my work,” Neville snorted.

“Oh who cares about classes anymore? I barely realize we have them,” Hermione sighed.

“I can’t believe I just heard that phrase uttered by Hermione Jean Granger of all people in the universe,” Nadia gasped, holding her hand over her heart dramatically.

“Who are you, and what have you done with my girlfriend?” Harry demanded, looking playfully horrified. Hermione flicked him in the arm, flushing from head to foot with embarrassment.

“I’m sorry that I’m so preoccupied with this rebellion that we’ve started as well as the war raging about our heads that I have priorities other than schoolwork! In case any of you haven’t noticed, I’m still top of our class,” Hermione harrumphed.

“It’s true, and I don’t bloody well know how you do it,” Sam shook his head in disbelief.

“Except Herbology and Transfiguration and Defense,” Ernie pointed out.

“Yes what the fuck is wrong with you four?” Sam demanded, glaring at us all.

“What? I’m good at transfiguration, and Neville is the ruler of herbology, and Harry is Harry,” I said defensively.

“It’s just weird,” Ernie rolled his eyes.

“And similarly, you can write off schoolwork because you don’t have major exams this year, Hermione,” Ginny rolled her eyes, “Or have we all forgotten that this is Luna’s and my O.W.L. year?”

“Good lord,” Nadia’s eyes widened, “It’s N.E.W.T.s for me. I’d completely forgotten.”

“Don’t the professors remind you every bloody day?” Neville asked, frowning.

“No, they expect us to be studying on our own – oh I am doomed,” Nadia groaned, holding her face in her hands.

“We’ll study together, it’ll be fine,” Ginny soothed.

“Thanks,” Nadia smiled at her, “I just don’t know how to juggle all of these things.”

“There definitely is too much going on,” I agreed.

“Summer things will calm down?” Ginny offered.

“Wow, I can’t believe you can even think of the summer when so much of time lies between now and then,” Neville shook his head in bemusement.

“This time last year we hadn’t even gone on the run yet,” Harry pointed out.

“Oh bloody hell, you’re right,” Ginny groaned, holding her hands over her face, “Oh my god. I’m just thinking of where we were a year ago.”

“I remember when you fought with Hermione over Harry like two hyenas over a leftover gazelle carcass,” I snorted.

“ _Thank_ you for reminding me of that,” Ginny grunted.

“Oh god that’s so embarrassing,” Hermione groaned.

“Wait a minute I never heard about this!” Harry protested.

“Oh no,” Sam snorted.

“How have you not _heard_ about this? _I_ heard about it and I’m not even a Gryffindor and I wasn’t even close to you lot at the time!” Nadia giggled.

“Oh man okay so this was ridiculous and I can’t believe no one’s told you about it since,” Neville grinned, “Mate this was mental. I go into the Gryffindor Common room and they’re just attacking each other, pulling out each other’s hair and clawing at each other like two freaking jungle cats, it was straight out of some sort of muggle teen movie or sommat –“

“But why in the hell –“

“Because Ginny thought that Hermione was trying to steal you away from her from all the talking you two did over the holiday – remember, you didn’t write to Ginny at all and you talked to Hermione and hung out with her for days and days straight?” Neville laughed.

“Okay but that was because I was really fucked up after being Nagini and attacking my bloody second _mum_ , and _you_ and _Maggie_ had just gotten together _finally_ so were snogging all over the bloody house –“ Harry shouted.

“Oi! We mainly confided ourselves to our room, thank you!” Neville protested.

“At any rate, that wasn’t my fault! Okay I should have written to you, Ginny, but I didn’t know how to talk to you about having Voldemort in my head and –“

“You didn’t know how to talk to _me_ about it?” Ginny raised her eyebrows, “Harry, I was _possessed my first year at Hogwarts_.”

Harry bit his lip in embarrassment as Claire roared with laughter.

“At any rate, it’s fine. Hermione wasn’t really trying to steal you away and even then we didn’t work out well together, so it all ended up okay,” Ginny rolled her eyes in amusement.

“Sorry Ginny,” Harry grimaced.

“Are you kidding? I’m much happier now. I should be thanking you for relieving me of my silly schoolgirl crush,” Ginny snorted as Nadia wrapped her arms around her in a hug.

“That’s probably a good thing then,” Harry admitted.

“It’s just amusing for me,” Ron snorted, “If you’d told me when we were kids that you would date the _famous Harry Potter_ and be the person _to break up with him_ –“

“Growing up is a strange thing. If you’d told me that you’d be running a bunch of country-wide trans health clinics alongside Luna Lovegood back when I was a first year I would have giggled much too long and made you very cross with me,” Ginny snorted.

“Hey, Luna’s great,” Ron muttered irritably.

“Thank you Ron!” Luna responded cheerfully.

“No offense, Luna, but Ron used to take the mickey out of you all the time,” Seamus admitted.

“Seamus!” Ron shouted.

“Oh I know. I know lots of people make fun of me,” Luna shrugged, “But I don’t really care much. I have lovely friends and I’m very happy.”

“Sorry Luna,” Ron mumbled sheepishly, grimacing a little.

“Oh it’s fine. Really,” Luna beamed, “I’ve never been happier than I have been the past three years, with all of you to talk to! No one else likes to listen to me talk about Crumple Horned Snorkacks –”

“Which are not real,” Hermione rolled her eyes.

“I’ll have you know my father is out on an expedition right now to find –“

“Okay then let’s move on from this,” Sam interjected suddenly, “Nostalgia! Nostalgia is fun!”

“Hey Hermione,” I grinned, going off of Sam’s impetus, “Remember when we met and you told me to just ignore racist people because to engage with them would just make it worse?”

“Oh bloody hell,” Hermione swore, “I did say that didn’t I?”

“I would really enjoy telling eleven-year-old Hermione that she’d start a rebellion one day,” Harry grinned, “That would be a real delight.”

“I’d really enjoy telling eleven-year-old Harry that’d he would fall in love with the know-it-all girl he found annoying on the train that day,” I grinned at him. Harry blushed furiously and Hermione roared with laughter.

“Wait how did you four meet? For me you’ve always been just the fully formed Team Potter. I figured you were born like that,” Nadia snorted.

“Hey now, we haven’t officially decided on that name yet, it isn’t sanctioned,” Neville shook his head rapidly.

“It’s the name, mate, you’re trapped,” Pete sniggered.

“I refuse to bow to this tyranny –“

“We met on the train first year,” Hermione rolled her eyes.

“That is not a story,” Kat giggled.

“It really isn’t,” Claire agreed.

“Alright alright,” I held up my hands in annoyance, “here is how it happened. Harry and I were in the same compartment because bloody well grew up together so how that happened should be self evident –“

“There are loads of pictures back at our old house of the two of them playing as babies, even I have to admit they are very cute,” Elena smiled.

“And then suddenly this kid,” I pointed my thumb at Neville, “Who I thought of as a boy at the time and I am sorry about that –“

“Eh, I didn’t even know, no worries,” Neville smiled.

“Is just peering into the window of the compartment, and he’s really shy and awkward looking, right? And I’m just like ‘are you going to come in or what?’ in my head but I didn’t say it because in the end I am also awkward –“

“Just not shy,” Harry snorted.

“And you didn’t say anything _because_ you’re shy,” I pointed out.

“And so then he went away and I teased you about scaring away people already,” Harry grinned.

“And then a little bit later Hermione came by and she just said ‘have you seen a toad, Neville’s lost one,’ and she was just so commanding you could basically just tell instantly she was going to never let anyone get in her way –“ I giggled.

“Alright you both, my turn,” Hermione rolled her eyes, “So I sat with Neville on the train because it was the last compartment open. Really, I was a muggleborn and didn’t have any friends, and I certainly wasn’t going to sit with _Ron_ and _Seamus_ and _Dean_ –“

“We were little kids of course we made fun of you!” Ron shouted in protest.

“And so Neville and I – what did we do, did we just sit awkwardly in silence the whole time?” Hermione asked, frowning.

“You read your books a lot,” Neville admitted, “And I just kind of stared out the window. I wasn’t really looking forward to going to Hogwarts.”

“And then you lost track of your toad, so I told you to stop freaking out and go out and look for it,” Hermione beamed.

“Oh bloody hell, I was freaking out wasn’t I,” Neville groaned, “Well I did, and I stopped outside of your lot’s compartment and I wanted to come in but I was much too shy –“

“That’s so odd though, you came into ours just fine,” Dean insisted.

“Well, yes, but er, it’s different, see –“ Neville rambled.

“Oh Merlin, you were shy because of Maggie, weren’t you?” Ernie asked. I burst into loud, obnoxious laughter immediately as Neville colored as red as a tomato.

“That has to be it – don’t deny it!” Harry grinned, “I remembered you looked like you were going to come in and then Maggie looked at you which is why I teased her for scaring people away already –“

“Yes, fine, I thought Maggie was really pretty and there was no way I was going to be able to talk to her, are you all happy now?” Neville rolled his eyes. I giggled even more and kissed him lovingly on the cheek, making him smile at me.

“So then I went to a couple of compartments but in my general sense of self despair I gave up quite quickly, and I went back to our compartment, but Hermione was having none of it –“ Neville continued, wrapping his arms around me and squeezing.

“So I insisted on going to all the compartments myself, and I met Harry and Maggie and I was honestly surprised Harry was on the train and not being carried to the school in a magical carriage or something based off of all the books I’d read –“ Hermione giggled.

“You know me why the bloody hell would I want a magical carriage –“ Harry protested.

“Well of course I didn’t know that _then_ ,” Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Anyways I liked her so even though Harry was less than enthused I helped her look for the toad, and then we joined her and Neville in their compartment and Neville barely talked –“ I continued.

“You were too pretty I was going to say something really dumb – and then as I listened to you talk I realized not only was I going to say something dumb because you were pretty but _also_ because you were bloody brilliant and amazing –“ Neville insisted.

“Oh come off it –“

“You were rambling about dinosaur evolution! We were eleven! I didn’t even know what a dinosaur _was!_ ”

“Hermione’s the genius!”

“Yes and no offense to Hermione but I never found her attractive!”

“Thank goodness for that –“

“You’re welcome –“

“And I, meanwhile, was wondering why the hell I had let Maggie pick our mates –“

“Oi!”

“Oi!”

“Oi!”

“What?! I was a kid I didn’t want to be stuck in the great band of misfits forever –“

“ _I’m a misfit and I’m your sister_ –“

“YES WELL AT THE TIME I WASN’T REALLY AWARE OF HOW BAD RACISM WAS, WAS I?”

“And then Malfoy said _something_ racist to me –“

“And I was like _holy shit_ –“

“Good times,” I snorted.

“At _any_ rate,” Hermione interjected, rolling her eyes, “We were all sorted into Gryffindor so we started _kind_ of being a group then, but we were still awkward and Harry still clearly wanted to join Ron, Dean, and Seamus –“

“You were a bit much when you were younger!”

“I know, I know, I’m not arguing with that –“

“And then we went up into the third floor corridor back when it was barred to students,” I grinned, “And there was this giant three headed dog – you’ve all heard the story –“

“Oh bloody hell, yes,” Sam rolled his eyes.

“And at the same time Neville was getting bullied a lot by Malfoy and he blamed it on us a little bit so he kind of got traumatized by everything so he just stopped talking to us for a while –“ I continued.

“I didn’t want to get caught up in - whatever world you lot were a part of – I didn’t want to get hurt or into trouble or –“ Neville rambled.

“I missed you! You leaving us hurt my feelings!” I protested.

“I’m sorry!” Neville sighed, “I was a dumb kid! We’re excusing Harry for thinking Hermione bossy and me lame –“

“And we’re excusing Hermione from being bossy –“ Harry grinned.

“And we’re excusing Maggie for being much too headstrong and not listening to anyone,” Hermione giggled.

“Oh yeah – I mean – I am the reason Neville got beat up a bit,” I admitted.

“You were! It wasn’t crazy for me to run away!” Neville shouted.

“Anyway, Harry and I rescued Hermione from a troll, and I talked to her about how we didn’t hate her we thought that she hated us, so that mended that fence –“ I continued.

“And then I apologized for running away because I realized I really liked these three crazies and it was better to be with them than to be alone –“ Neville continued.

“And you were hopelessly in love with Maggie,” Harry grinned.

“Oi, I did _not_ realize it until Maggie and I talked and I came back to the group!” Neville shouted.

“But you still were,” Harry grinned.

“Shove off,” Neville snorted.

“And from then on all four of us were inseparable,” I rolled my eyes.

“What a beautiful story,” Nadia laughed.

“It’s good to know that you four weren’t just best friends forever from the beginning, that would have just been too cheesy,” Pete giggled.

“Yeah we had our rocky beginnings,” Harry snorted.

“And now we’re two couples who are all very codependent,” I pointed out.

“Bloody hell –“ Harry groaned.

“Too late mate. We’re in this,” Neville grinned.

“And then, somehow, you managed to drag a very large group of children into your shit as well,” Elena rolled her eyes.

“You were doomed from birth,” I pointed out.

“Well I tried my hardest to not be didn’t I –“

“No, you just hid away on the train and refused to talk to anyone,” Claire grinned, “Until I forced myself in.”

“Kat did that too,” Pete grinned.

“And so did you then,” Kat rolled her eyes.

“And it worked out for you, I’d like to point out,” Pete laughed.

“It did,” Kat admitted sheepishly, “I’m glad.”

“Alright,” Ernie rolled his eyes, “Now that we’ve all had fun with that –“

“It is getting pretty late. Night you all,” Sam smirked.

“You two are just going off to snog,” Claire grinned.

“Oh no. Oh definitely not,” I snorted, “They’re off to shag.”

“Maggie!” Ernie squeaked.

“Every time I run into you two you’re doing some sort of adult activity –“ I continued.

“ _Maggie!_ ” Ernie’s squeak got much more high pitched.

“I’m just saying you two have a problem,” I giggled.

“Yeah mate, the other day I ran into you full on shagging in a closet it was really gross,” Ron nodded.

“ _Ron!_ ” Ernie groaned, holding his face in his hands. Sam was grinning cheekily throughout this affair.

“No wait it wasn’t a closet, it was an abandoned dungeon – I was trying to find my way to the student store cupboard and got lost because frankly I never go to the student store cupboard –“ Ron continued.

“An _abandoned dungeon? That’s practically in public!_ ” Hermione shrieked.

“We like the thrill of danger,” Sam grinned even wider.

“Then why is Ernie freaking out?” Harry snorted as Ernie basically curled up into a ball of embarrassment.

“Because actually being discovered mortifies him. But he’s addicted to the excitement of the potential of being discovered,” Sam snorted.

“ _Sam!_ ” Ernie protested again.

“And on that note I am going to go to bed,” Claire rolled her eyes, “I’m picturing too many penises jiggling about every which way right now and it’s not a pretty picture –“

“You definitely do not like penis,” Elena snorted.

“ _Elena!_ ” I shouted.

“You’re going to traumatize Maggie if you keep that up,” Neville giggled.

“Alright I’m going to bed before any of you get another clever idea to traumatize the rest of us,” Hermione rolled her eyes, standing up, “Or worse, give people ideas.”

“What now?” Harry laughed.

“I just don’t want to start walking into _all_ of my friends shagging all over the castle. Ernie and Sam are quite enough,” Hermione snorted, “Night all.”

“Night Hermione,” most of us said in return, as Harry got up to follow her to sleep.

And the week went on like that – relaxing with mates in the evening, going to classes that seemed more and more pointless during the day, and some of us doing research in the free hours. Neville was working so hard that he was strung as taught as a drawn bow – but at the very least he seemed to be confident about his work.

“I’m going to gather more samples this whole weekend and start analyzing them. I think getting more hairs from muggles and wixen alike will really finally start to put the pieces together,” Neville said firmly, “I have some major candidate loci but more data will help me to really pinpoint with arithmancy the right genes.”

“That’s great Nev,” I agreed as we piled onto the tour bus for the first time in ages, Sirius grumbling behind the wheel.

“What are you working on anyway?” Sam asked curiously.

“Never you mind,” Neville insisted, rolling his eyes.

“It’ll be big,” I promised.

“In the meantime I’ve been working on a new art series,” Sam continued.

“Oh god,” Harry groaned, covering his face with his hands.

“It’s an ode to being a teenager in our world –“

“I can only imagine –“

“Please do _not_ show us –“

“It has penises in it doesn’t it –“

“It does feature some genitalia yes!”

“Please keep that to yourself.”

“I do not need to see that whatsoever.”

“Fine all of you philistines.”

“Quiet down you lot, I’m driving!” Sirius shouted irritably. Elena burst into giggles as the bus started driving out again, Sam rolling his eyes and pulling up his sketchbook to his chest to begin drawing.

“I’ve been writing some poems but they haven’t been very good,” Nadia sighed.

“No they’ve been lovely!” Ginny protested.

“You think _all_ of my work is good,” Nadia rolled her eyes.

“So who will be meeting us in Cardiff?” Harry asked, clearly trying to reestablish order in the group. Hermione smirked at him as she returned to her notes and books, writing down things for the speeches she would make.

“I think Tonks and Shae will probably be there,” Sirius answered, “But not many others. No one expects much trouble at this rally, most of the fighting is happening on the North Sea and the Backlash are mainly concentrating in other cities besides the ones we’re going to.”

“I think that Bill and Adie will be there,” Ginny beamed.

“Charlie and Fred?” Ron asked.

“Whatever happened to Percy?” I asked curiously.

“Still with the Ministry. Doesn’t want to associate with us rebels,” Ginny rolled her eyes.

“Charlie will probably be back in Europe persuading more people to join our cause, and Fred hasn’t been doing so great,” Ron muttered.

“He needs to talk to Shae or to Dr. Wilson but he’s not,” Ginny agreed.

“And he mainly sticks with Mum,” Ron sighed, “So he’ll be with her, doing some stuff for the Order in other towns.”

“Oh dear,” Hermione frowned, looking heavily concerned.

“We’ve tried talking to him. Nothing works,” Ginny sighed.

“I’d rather not think about it any more right now,” Ron muttered.

“Fair enough,” Sam paused, “Well it shouldn’t take too long to get to Cardiff.”

There weren’t many of us on the bus – me, Neville, Hermione, Harry, Ginny, Nadia, Sam, Ernie, Elena, Claire, Kat, Pete, Seamus, Dean (even though he wouldn’t be talking about magical muggle health care), Justin, Susan, and Maria.

“I want us to focus on the trans clinics and how successful they’ve been,” Hermione ordered calmly, looking at her notes, “Calling for the Ministry to bring back subsidized trans resources –“

“They won’t do it,” Ron shook his head slowly.

“Well I still want to try,” she nodded firmly, “Unless anyone has something else to say?”

“No, I think that’s a good topic,” Ernie nodded.

“Might as well try,” Ron admitted reluctantly.

We pulled into Cardiff and walked together through the streets towards the pub; reaching it we all stuffed ourselves inside, but the crowd was huge given that we hadn’t made any speeches in ages. A man at the front of the bar was checking people to make sure they weren’t marked ad Ministry Sympathizers as they walked in, and the few Order members sent to guard us were at the front of the room, looking around it vigilantly.

“So who would like to speak about this?” Hermione asked, pulling out her stack of papers, “I have some extensive notes on how well the clinics have been doing, but I think a trans person would have more of an impact on the audience and –“

“I’ll do it,” Ron offered, grabbing the pages from Hermione and rolling his eyes.

“And Maggie you should definitely come out to speak – maybe even speak first and introduce Ron? Just let everyone know you’re back out here fighting,” Hermione nodded firmly.

“Alright,” I sighed.

“And we’ll see where we should go from there,” Hermione finished. I had forgotten how exhausting all of this was. I kissed Neville in comfort before stepping onto the podium, the audience members all quieting down at the very sight of me.

“It’s Maggie!” Pacifique suddenly shouted, standing up, “The hero of the imprisoned!”

I raised up my hand, blushing with embarrassment, “I just did what I felt was necessary. I felt responsible for what happened to you all –“

“You saved us, and you weren’t responsible. We would have done it anyway,” Pacifique insisted. Most of the crowd murmured in intense, unified agreement.

“Well regardless – my term of dictated silence is up,” I swallowed, clenching my teeth. The last time I had given a speech I had rallied the crowd into a destructive frenzy. I did not want to do this again, or at least, not so soon.

“They cannot silence us!” another voice shouted, “They cannot silence you!”

“No,” I agreed solemnly, “But there is a lot of work to be done. Work that doesn’t involve tearing down the Ministry –“

“It needs to go!” someone else shouted and everyone started agreeing with them.

“Yes,” I agreed softly, before I could stop myself, “But we have people in there who are trying to change it. At the very least, we have to let them try. Mr. MacMillan is doing his hardest, as is Mrs. Dewar – and there are many other sympathizers within their walls who we have to at least try and do something before we resort to that.”

“Since when are you such a pacifist?” someone demanded.

“Have they pressured you into saying these things?” another person accused.

“Are you with them now? Is that what your silence has lead to?” a third person shouted.

“No!” I groaned, rubbing my forehead, “No. I think that the Ministry would not be so lenient with you all next time. I think that the Order of the Phoenix is trying to fight the Death Eaters and do not have enough manpower to hold them back. I think that the Ministry is already a lost cause and because of that they might be more open to change – that we might be able to fix some things using the people we have in there, and take steps forward _without_ more violence –“

“She’s right,” Harry stated firmly, walking up next to me, “We will probably have to burn the Ministry down, one day. I will not deny it and neither will Maggie. But we should never, _never_ , jump to that as our first option.”

“It wouldn’t end well,” Bill muttered softly from the front of the room.

“We are tired of living with them!” someone roared.

“Have you seen these badges on our arms?” Pacifique hissed, pointing to his and glaring.

“Yes!” I shouted back, growing so angry that I had to start counting in my head to stop myself from shifting, a sensation I hadn’t felt in so long that it was practically like a shock to my entire body, “Yes, I see them, and yes, I hate them, and my god, if I could burn off my arm I would! But I can’t! But I don’t want you lot to all be chucked into Azkaban _or worse_ when we have other avenues of change to explore first!”

Everyone watched me silently, but at least not shouting anything more against me.

“Look,” I sighed, “I am a violent person. But I am not an indiscriminately violent one. I used to be… oh man, I used to be. People can tell you stories. And you know what happened? Innocent people got hurt,” I looked over at Neville and he smiled weakly at me.

“I was angry. I was angry at the way people I cared about were being treated and I wanted the people who had hurt them to suffer for it. But they didn’t take it out on me – no – when I attacked the bullies, the bullies attacked the victims _again_. There were consequences to my poorly thought out violence and there will be consequences to attacking the Ministry now,” I continued.

“I learned to control my violence. I learned to control my anger. It took a while – I used to have a reputation for being a biter –“

My friends all behind me started laughing, and Lupin also chuckled softly.

“You still have that reputation, mate,” Ginny snorted.

“Fine,” I rolled my eyes, “But I found a way to channel it – now that way turned out to be turning into a dragon, but –“

The crowd laughed appreciatively, some of the tension seemingly being dispelled.

“But now I channel it wisely. I use it wisely. I use my anger when it is needed in just the right amount – for the most part – and nothing more. And I’ve gotten much more done because of it,” I took a deep breath, “All I am asking is the same from you.”

People nodded, many smiling at me in apology as I stood back from the podium.

“Now,” I swallowed, “That I am back, Ron has something to say to all of you.”

Ron stepped forward, holding Hermione’s papers awkwardly in his hands.

“Alright,” Ron frowned, looking around at everyone, “I have news on the trans clinics and how well they are doing. The answer to that is that they are doing… _amazingly_ well.”

“The clinics are now getting enough in donations to fund all of their own hormone purchases; the MacMillans no longer need to donate and neither does Dumbledore,” Ron continued, looking frightfully nervous as he did so, “However they are still donating, and so the extra funds are being used to start set ups for surgeries. Young kids aren’t getting the gender surgeries they require now, while it’s easier, so we’re spreading out our donations to begin to build proper surgical stations for the Healers. Our main problem is Healer volunteer rates – while we have many individual Healers volunteering, the amount of time they can dedicate to the clinics each is not quite enough. We have people training in trans healthcare to pick up the slack, but we were hoping that the Rebellion at large could put out a call for volunteers –“

“What does volunteering entail?” a person asked.

“Mainly assisting the Healers in administering drugs and potions and giving information to new intakes,” Ron explained, “But when the surgeries open there will need to be people either aiding in the surgery themselves or completely taking over drug administration duties, since the Healers will now have even more work on their hands.”

“How many would you estimate that you need?” Pacifique asked.

“Er,” Ron shuffled through the papers awkwardly, swallowing, “See, it depends on station – some stations don’t need many volunteers at all, but others need a lot, and I’m sure the Rebellion would like to match volunteers to locations that are close to where they live –“

“Of course,” someone nodded.

“Er let’s see then,” Ron swallowed again, “In London they need the most number of volunteers – they say here they need at least ten, but twenty would be ideal –“

“ _Twenty people_?” someone shouted.

“Yeah,” Ron frowned, “London’s a big city, innit? Anyway, Edinburgh only needs about five –“

“How are we supposed to get that many people to volunteer for so much work?” Pacifique asked shrewdly.

“Because it’s for the Rebellion. A rebellion is more than just fighting and protests,” Hermione snapped, now looking positively angry, “We’re telling the Ministry no, no we don’t want to go along with their schemes to strip us of our rights and our health and our well-being. We will take care of ourselves if they won’t take care of us and they can’t stop us. Rebellion is also telling the Ministry that their plots _can not_ and _will not_ work, and that might be less fire and brimstone than you like, Pacifique, but it’s necessary and important.”

Pacifique look stunned, sitting back in his chair.

“I’m sorry,” Hermione sighed, pinching her nose in exhaustion, “I’m just… tired.”

“No, you have a point,” Pacifique admitted, “But the rebellion has also been quiet in the sense that it has not moved forward in protests and more _fire and brimstone_ kinds of activities –“

“No, it hasn’t been doing much of that,” Hermione admitted.

“Isn’t that mostly because the Backlash has made that incredibly dangerous?” Harry offered, frowning, “And the Order needs to fight more Death Eater and Giant forces?”

“Yes,” Pacifique admitted, “But we can’t let protests fall completely to the wayside.”

“I have an idea about that,” Ernie suggested, “But let’s let Ron finish.”

“Right,” Ron murmured, “Okay then. In Glasgow they need about three volunteers, in Aberdeen they need six, in Birmingham, only two, in Leeds, nine, in Dublin, eight, in Cork, nine, in Manchester, only three, in Liverpool, about five, in Cardiff – so here – they need at least six, in Swansea, just a couple, Bristol, eight, and Leicester, at least four.”

“We can get the word out for that,” a woman reassured.

“Thanks,” Ron sighed, “And that’s all the news on that front, besides how thankful everyone is and how much mental health and moral on the whole have improved for the wixen trans community.” He stepped back, looking relieved, as Luna patted him comfortingly on the shoulder.

“Now my idea,” Ernie stepped forward, looking determined, “I do think you should protest the Ministry.”

“Ernie!” Hermione shouted in exasperation.

“Just listen to me,” Ernie shook his head, “I think you should protest the Ministry and demand that they give us back the trans health care. There are many reasons why this actually has a halfway decent chance of working – first off, the trans clinics themselves are filled to bursting with people who need healthcare, and it’s essential healthcare, so we have infinite testimonies on how much good we have been doing. Second of all, it is one, isolated issue, that can be focused on and targeted. Third of all, the fact that Healers are volunteering for this on their off hours means that they are being worn thin – incorporating this back into their actually jobs and routines will lead to better healthcare for everyone overall. Fourth off, the Ministry is facing pressures from all sides as to how they are fucking up – and doing this for the trans community would be an easy way for them to alleviate some of that pressure, so they will probably jump at the chance. Fifth off, momentum from that sort of victory could keep the rebellion going to gain more ground, again, _without violence_.”

“Sixth off,” Justin interjected softly, “Muggleborn trans care is easier for the Ministry to undertake seeing as they have access to the trans list – and just children in general. I’m a muggleborn, and without the Ministry I would probably be in the throws of extreme dysphoria right now and going by Janice. I don’t want kids caught in the middle of all this to suffer because the Ministry thinks that they can just control us like this.”

Everyone was nodding and mumbling in general agreement.

“So what do you all say?” Ernie asked.

“We will begin tonight,” Pacifique agreed.

“Excellent,” Ernie paused, “No fire, please.”

“You got it,” someone said, and quite a few people chuckled. We all left the pub, saying goodbye to rebellion members as we left, all generally heartened by how well that particular rally actually went.

So the next day as we headed to Liverpool, we were, in general, fairly cheery and optimistic about our prospects for the day.

“Yesterday went so well I think we can talk about a new topic,” Hermione explained, “We don’t need to convince people that the trans clinics need more help or more support; they’re convinced.”

“So what should we talk about?” Neville asked.

“I think we should focus on muggle casualties,” Hermione sighed, “As Death Eater attacks are on the rise, more and more muggles are in the crossfire. It’s becoming practically an epidemic and the Muggle Newspapers are noticing.”

“It’s always risking brining muggles into the picture,” Dean pointed out.

“Yes, but it is probably necessary. Can I count on you, Dean?” Hermione asked. He nodded, looking solemn and determined.

“You can do it,” Seamus nodded.

“I’m just glad I don’t have to speak again,” Ron sighed, holding his face in his hands as Luna rubbed his back comfortingly.

“Er, small question,” Justin interjected, looking awkward as he did so.

“Yeah?” Ron frowned, looking up from his hands.

“What are you two?” Justin asked.

“We’re trans?” Ron frowned, looking amused. Luna giggled behind her hand.

“I mean like – I dunno – you two act like a couple a lot, that’s all,” Justin rolled his eyes.

“We’re both aromantic, we don’t do the whole couple thing,” Ron shook his head.

“And asexual,” Luna agreed.

“Though we do do a lot together, you’re right,” Ron frowned, looking over at Luna, “And we… er…”

“What?” Ginny asked, smirking.

Ron glared at her very visibly.

“We cuddle,” Luna shrugged, “Because affection is nice.”

“There’s probably some sort of word for that,” Hermione offered.

“I dunno. We’re partners in crime,” Ron shrugged, staring out of the window and frowning.

“Wait I think I know one,” Maria offered, “My sister is aromantic too.”

“Oh? What’s the word?” Luna asked eagerly as Ron continued to stare solemnly out of the window.

“Queerplatonic? It means you’re not in a romantic or sexual relationship but you’re also more than just best friends or friends – you’re as you said, partners, you know, taking on things together kind of like a couple but not romantically,” Maria offered.

“Huh,” Luna smiled, “I like that word.”

“Yeah,” Ron muttered gruffly.

“It’s a committed relationship but not romantic. More than friendship, et cetera,” Maria nodded, “I think it works.”

“I do too,” Ron agreed softly.

“We’re here, kids,” Lupin announced from the front of the bus. We all piled on into the Liverpool magical district, which was just a few shops out by the bay. Lupin and Sirius led us up to the front of the street, Dean making sure to move up to the front with Hermione and Justin, all three looking out at the small assembled crowd with nervousness.

“Hello everyone –“ Dean began, but was almost immediately cut off.

“The protests aren’t working,” someone said from the street.

“What are you on about?” Dean asked, frowning, “It’s been a day.”

“The Ministry kicked us all off of the area outside the building,” Pacifique stepped forward, looking furious, “They told us they would never reinstate rights for – well they used a slur – and told us to leave before they threw us all in jail.”

“You’ve got to be bloody kidding me!” Ron shouted.

“No,” Pacifique sighed, “Do you see now why we need violence?”

“I don’t know,” Ron frowned.

“A small protest about a small issue didn’t even take place!” another screeched.

“But if you burn down the Ministry –“ Ernie mumbled.

“Then they’ll get what’s coming to them!” another roared.

“There are good people in there!” Lupin snapped, breaking his usual silence.

“Remus –“ Sirius gasped.

“I’m sorry, Sirius, but there are good people in the Ministry who we know and who we’ve placed there and they do _not_ deserve to burn down in some sort of strange crusade –“

“Then just take them out of there!”

“This is about more than that –“

“Remus, I wasn’t trying to stop you,” Sirius hissed.

“What is happening?” Lupin asked, whirling on his heels to face Sirius.

“We need to get to Edinburgh. Now,” Sirius murmured.

“No, that’s for tomorrow –“ Lupin continued.

“No, now,” Sirius shook his head.

“What’s happening?” Bill asked, walking up to him.

“We can go, you guys should stay here with the kids –“ Adie interjected.

“No, we all have to go – the kids must stay here but they need all of us –“ Sirius hissed.

“Sirius you’re scaring me, what’s happening?” Lupin murmured.

“Did you get the message?” Tonks asked, running from the entrance to the square, where she and Shae were keeping watch.

“Yes, you should go now, we’ll follow –“

“What is happening?” Harry demanded, coming forward and glaring.

“You have to stay here –“

“What is happening?” I hissed.

“There’s a battle in Edinburgh,” Sirius finally got out.

“What? Why are we wasting time here –“ Remus roared.

“Because you wouldn’t let me finish –“

“What’s the battle? Who is attacking? I thought the giants were trapped up north?” I demanded.

“They are, it’s not giants –“ Sirius sighed.

“It’s Death Eaters and Dementors,” Shae hissed, “We have to go now.”

“I should come with you!” Harry roared.

“No, you should stay behind –“ Remus groaned.

“Harry is the best at patronuses he should come too –“ I agreed.

“We’re leaving, now, they need our help,” Sirius interjected, effectively ending the conversation and dragging Remus with him. Bill, Adie, Tonks, and Shae followed, leaving Harry to stare at me as the cracks of the apparators filled the air.

“Kids,” Pacifique came up to us, looking solemn, “You want to be in Edinburgh?”

“No one can fight Dementors better than I can,” Harry stated firmly.

“We’ll take you. Come on everyone, they need us all it seems,” Pacifique nodded. A woman grabbed me by the arm and apparated; the crack filled my ears and I felt like I was being suffocated, an experience I neither enjoyed nor wanted as we were one moment in total darkness and the next in a frightful hellscape.

I hadn’t yet mastered the patronus. I didn’t know why I was there. Almost immediately I was flooded with depression and memories – getting raped, trying to kill myself, watching Neville die – I couldn’t breathe as I fell to the ground, clutching my chest and wailing.

“Mags!” Neville was pulling me up from the ground, “Mags! Why did you come – some people stayed behind oh why did you come –“

“You can’t – do – a patronus – either –“ I whispered as Neville started crying into my hair.

“No but I had to follow you –“

“Neville take her back!” Sam roared, “I’ll help Harry –“

“Harry!” Hermione shouted, following him into the fray, “Harry!”

There were hundred of dementors. I didn’t know how I was still conscious.

“Can Hermione fight dementors?” I asked weakly, leaning on Neville.

“Maggie we have to go you can worry about that later –“

“It’s dementors – it’s Hermione –“

“It’s _Hermione_ –“

“Where’s Sam??”

“Ernie why the fuck are you here –“

“I need to find Sam –“

“He’s out there helping –“

“Duck!”

I quickly fell to the ground as a group of Death Eaters charged at us, regaining my composure and aiming my wand at them. I cast curse after curse as Neville and Ernie joined me, defending ourselves as each of us had to deal with our worst memories playing in our head on a repeated loop.

An entire army of bats suddenly flew by our heads and I whirled around to see Ginny and Nadia running towards us, Nadia running into the cloud of Dementors with her wand up and silvery shapes flying from it.

“Ginny! What the fuck are you doing here?” I demanded angrily.

“You all needed my help –“

“Fuck no you don’t know how to cast a patronus –“

“No but I can help with the Death Eaters –“

“Ginny should should go home –“

“I’m staying!”

“This is too chaotic for you!”

“Watch out!”

I quickly turned around and sent a giant wall of fire, screaming as I did so, towards the group of Death Eaters approaching us. They all screamed as they got caught up in the flames, me now whirling my arms around to pick them up in a ball of air and throwing them into the dementor swarm, roaring at the top of my lungs in frustration as I did so. I didn’t like reliving my rape _over and over and over and over again in my head_ and I wasn’t going to let it continue for one second.

“They say only a patronus can fucking destroy dementors?” I roared.

“Yeah that’s what they say,” Ernie agreed, looking at me in awe and terror.

“What if I don’t want to fucking destroy them? What if I just want them _OUT OF MY HEAD?_ ” I roared.

“Mags –“ Neville whispered.

I quickly whirled my arms about, creating another ball of fire. Ginny shouted in shock as I ran with the giant ball towards the dementors, enveloping a group of them left unattended by any Order members in it and lifting them into the air. The Dementors weren’t trapped by the fire but they were trapped by my ball of air, me weaving the two elements in the air and concentrating so heavily my head started to hurt. I grunted in fury as I threw the ball far, far away – a strange flameball of dementors being hoisted across into the North Sea. I turned back to the others, panting furiously, collapsing against Neville and trying my hardest to not just burst into tears.

“Maggie we have to go back,” Neville whispered again.

“I think you really should,” Ginny agreed, but she was crying too.

“Gin? Gin?” Ernie asked, looking terrified.

“I’m just remembering – terrible things – I –“ Ginny gasped out.

“I am too, just breathe and focus on everything around you –“

“I don’t know what I’m doing here why did I come here –“

“Death Eaters!” I shouted, turning towards them with my hands literally enclosed in a ball of fire each, me barely feeling them as I was wearing what we had now deemed ‘elementalism gloves’ (fingerless gloves typically impervious to our various elements.) I threw the balls of fire at them as the others threw curses and spells, no immediate sources of earth or water present in this square.

_When I couldn’t… take the dementors anymore… I transformed into a dog in my cell._

I looked over at Ginny with my eyes wide, remembering Sirius’ words from the first time we had ever met.

“Ginny!” I shouted as she sobbed heavily while fighting the Death Eaters.

“Ginny, turn into a _Utahraptor!_ ” I ordered.

“Wha –“

“ _NOW!_ ”

She transformed in front of me, a beautiful purple bird with large claws and amazing plumage, her maw opening with sharp, frightening teeth. I quickly transformed into a dragon and the effect was immediate – the memories were still there but so quiet I could barely hear them. I roared in fury and dove at the Death Eaters, tackling them to the ground and whirling around my tail, bashing all of them in the skull. Ginny dove at one of them, her legs kicking out in the air as she flapped her wings rapidly, landing on one of the death eaters and stabbing him in the neck with her large sickle claws. I roared in appreciation as she left the dead death eater there, hissing at it and running towards the swarm of dementors. I followed her, gliding somewhat as Neville and Ernie shouted in protest behind us.

But we didn’t care. We were dinosaurs. We were immune.

I dove into the dementors and they didn’t know what to do about us being animals so they ignored us. I whirled around, breathing endless fire, as Ginny attacked Death Eaters who were trying to distract the people actually able to fight the dementors. I drove away a pack of Dementors before whirling on my feet to face Ginny, hissing and running forward to help her with the Dementors.

There were plenty of Order members in front of us fighting a group of very persistent Dementors. I dover forward, hissing and roaring, with Ginny following me immediately from behind, her wings extending in an instinctual threat display as we ran across the magical district square.

The dementors were swarming them and no matter how much Harry cast his stag patronus at them they wouldn’t be deterred. I ran forward, roaring in fury, trying to break up the dementors but there were too many of them around.

I heard a scream.

I turned around to see that Ginny had transformed back to a human and was screaming at the top of her lungs.

I looked in the direction she was looking in to see a dementor on top of an order member but I couldn’t see who – I flew forward to move the dementor out of the way but it was already too late –

Her soul had been sucked out. I had seen it as she was held hostage by the dementor, the strange cloud coming up from her mouth and into the dementor’s, her body turning into a vegetable before me and before Ginny.

She fell to the ground, staring blankly into space, as I turned back into a human and screamed in horror myself.

Mrs. Weasley was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *runs and hides while screaming THIS WAS IMPORTANT FOR THE PLOT I SWEAR please comment*


	120. Chapter One Hundred and Eighteen: January 11 - 15, 1997, Hogwarts, Edinburgh and London

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Watch me when I'm falling down   
> Step aside   
> Don't ask why   
> Let me down   
> Hit the ground   
> Bet you smile   
> Deep inside 
> 
> When I'm lost   
> And don't know what to do   
> You run away from me   
> But you'll never kill the light   
> Inside me 
> 
> Now or, never   
> Can you feel this loss   
> Please let these memories just fade   
> Time will heal the rain   
> But sometimes it hurts   
> I want to shine outside your halo"   
> ~ Lacuna Coil, "Kill The Light"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for Suicide Mention

Chapter 118: January 11 – 15, 1997, Hogwarts, Edinburgh & London

_Ginny_

I ran to her, because I had to get to her as fast as possible. She was still screaming at the top of her lungs and there were Death Eaters everywhere. And Dementors everywhere. She was in danger and drawing attention to herself and I had to grab her and take her to safety.

I picked her up and carried her, even though she was taller than me, running out of the crowd of death and destruction on pure adrenaline. I ran back out outside of the crowd and fell to the ground, clutching her close to me to save her from scraping against the stones.

“What happened? What’s happening?” Neville shouted at me as Ginny forced herself from me and resumed sobbing and wailing at the top of her lungs.

I swallowed and looked up at Neville with tears forming in my eyes, unable to get the words out describing the horror I had just seen. I reached out for him and he looked at me in terror, gripping my arms so tightly I could barely feel them.

“Maggie? Maggie what’s wrong?” he whispered, the chaos going around our heads unable to drown out the sound.

“Mrs. Weasley…” I managed to choke out, but I couldn’t get out the rest.

“What happened?” he begged, as Ginny continued to scream at the top of her lungs.

“She received the dementor’s kiss,” I managed to gasp, falling down to the ground and holding my hair in my hands, pulling at in in horror.

Neville was absolutely speechless – his mouth was open in horror, his eyes were wide with shock, and he was frozen in place as he was forced to process this development.

“We have – to get – Ginny – out of here – now,” I managed to splutter out. Neville nodded, still unable to speak, as we both hoisted Ginny onto our shoulders. She screamed loudly and abrasively into our ears as we walked away from the square towards one of the wixen establishments. We managed to barge our way in – they had boarded the door shut – and force our way to the floo.

“Why is the lass screaming?” the bartender demanded, looking at us in fury.

“She just saw her bloody mum get her soul sucked out so can we just use the bloody floo?” I screamed, gripping Ginny tightly as her scream got louder.

“Alright, alright!” the man roared, putting powder into the fireplace and shoving us towards us.

“Take Ginny,” Neville shouted, “I should go back and tell people where you lot are –“

“Where am I going?” I roared. Ginny’s scream was piercing my soul and tearing it into small pieces.

“Hogsmeade. Don’t bother going back to Liverpool, we’ll deal with that later. And I’ll follow you soon, I promise,” Neville begged.

“Neville –“ my voice choked. If that happened to him…

“I won’t be gone long, I’m just going to find the nearest person and tell them. I promise,” Neville looked at me desperately. I kissed him, practically trying to fuse my body with his in my desperation.

“I love you,” I begged.

“I love you. I promise, I’ll come back,” Neville nodded. I took screaming Ginny into the fire, hot tears leaking from my eyes as I managed to shout out Hogsmeade, the green flame taking us away as I locked Ginny in a death grip. We stumbled out together into the Hog’s Head, the barkeeper looking at us in shock as I dragged a screaming Ginny away from the fire and back outside.

“Ginny!” I begged. She looked at me, her scream finally dying out as she did so, now more tears filling her eyes as she used me for support.

“Ginny, breathe, okay, you need to breathe,” I managed to stammer out as I sobbed myself. She took deep breaths, standing out there with me in the falling snow, her body shaking with every breath. She looked smaller than she ever had to me in that moment – I had known her when she was a first year and being possessed by Voldemort, but this was different. She was a tall, muscular fifteen-year-old with some healthy fat to her hips and chest and stomach, but she looked like the smallest touch would break her.

“Ginny,” I murmured, “Ginny, what do you need? Where do you need to go? What do you need to do?”

Ginny continued to cry and breathe, still holding onto me as she did so. I held her up, even though when everything was added together we weighed about the same (me, pudgier and shorter) – so it wasn’t exactly an easy task. I shifted her from one arm to the other as it got tired, tears slipping out of my eyes and down my cheeks as I did.

“Why?” Ginny managed to sob out. I pulled her into a hug, squeezing her as tightly as I could as her tears splashed my shoulder and hair.

“I don’t know why,” I whispered, “I’m so sorry Ginny.”

“Why?” Ginny begged again, pulling back from the hug to look down at me while crying, “Why?”

“Because we’re in the middle of a war and that means terrible things are going to happen to us and the people we care about,” I answered honestly. Ginny wailed louder, falling to the snow and holding her face in her hands.

“So this is my life?” she stammered out, “So this is my life until Voldemort is gone and the Ministry is gone and all the horrible things are done?”

“Yes,” I whispered.

She cried louder, holding her face in her hands still and curling up into a ball in the snow.

“I can’t do this!” she screamed into her hands, “I can’t do this!”

“Yes you can,” I whispered.

“No I can’t!”

“You must,” I insisted.

“Can I just fucking run away?” Ginny begged, “I want to run away! I don’t want to do this anymore!”

“I wanted to too,” I murmured, “But you can’t. It’ll follow you. Seek you out. Hurt people who didn’t have to be hurt.”

She sobbed louder, “My MUM IS GONE,” she gestured wildly, pointing in some vague direction, “SHE’S GONE, MAGGIE.”

“I know,” I whispered.

“SHE DOESN’T EVEN HAVE THE PEACE OF DEATH!” Ginny roared, “SHE’S JUST _GONE_ BECAUSE HER SOUL IS GONE! HER SOUL IS GONE! SHE’LL NEVER HAVE WHATEVER WE STUPID WIZARDS HAVE OF AN AFTERLIFE! SHE’S GONE! SHE’S GONE SHE’S GONE SHE’S GONE SHE’S GONE!” Ginny wailed, pounding her fists into the ground as snow exploded beneath them, “WIPED FORM THE EARTH INTO THAT FOUL DEMENTOR’S MOUTH!”

I sobbed silently, unable to even provide an ounce of comfort.

“SHE WILL NEVER MEET WITH DAD AGAIN! DAD WILL NEVER SEE MUM AGAIN! MUM IS GONE, GONE, GONE, GONE FOREVER! I’VE LOST MUM! I’VE _LOST MUM!_ ” Ginny screamed, “AND I’M NEVER GOING TO GET HER BACK!”

“No,” I whispered, my heart breaking as I said it.

Ginny let out another, wordless scream, before falling to the ground and sobbing more. I picked her up and carried her again, stumbling forward in pain – less adrenaline, I felt it more – towards Hogwarts. I managed to reach the gate and get her inside, setting her down and collapsing into the snow. She continued to sob, heaving and wailing into her hands as I waited by the gate.

I should have waited for Neville before leaving, but I had to get her out of the public street. Now my fingers were twitching at the mere thought that he was in trouble –

I breathed a sigh of relief as the gate door opened and Neville rushed inside, pulling me into his arms holding onto me tightly. I held him back equally strongly, sobbing into his chest and gripping his sweater in my hands.

“Found Ernie,” Neville whispered, “Told him where we were.”

“Good,” I murmured.

“Ginny?” Neville asked. Ginny looked up from her sobbing at Neville, her face etched with desperation.

“I’m so sorry,” Neville managed to choke out, reaching for her and hugging her. She sobbed into his shoulder and grabbed me to hug me as well, squeezing the both of us so tightly that it hurt a little.

“I can’t – I can’t deal with this – I can’t –“ she whispered.

“You will,” I promised softly, “You’ll get through this. I promise.”

She fell into the snow again and resumed sobbing. Neville reached for her and picked her up, me walking with them and looking at Neville. Our expressions mirrored each other in fear and horror as we went into the castle and reached the Room of Requirement, setting her down on a couch and sitting down in another. She laid on the couch and sobbed into a pillow as I held my face in my hands and cried, Neville wrapping his arms tightly around me and crying into my hair.

“Ginny,” I whispered after a while of this, when I was out of tears and now starting to worry about the other people still in Edinburgh, “Ginny, what do you need?”

“I need to be alone,” she muttered.

“Alright,” I whispered, “Come on, Nev.”

Neville got up with me reluctantly, holding his arms tightly around me as we left Ginny to sob alone in the room. My heart felt heavy and I briefly leaned against one of the corridor walls, more tears escaping my eyes as I gripped the stones for support.

“Mags?” Neville whispered.

“How can I keep doing this?” I asked.

“You will,” he murmured, “Because we must.”

I let out a louder sob, turning back to Neville and holding him tightly around the middle.

“It’s too much. Ginny’s an orphan now. Ginny. Ginny, who had a huge family of people to support her, now has lost two parents and two of her brothers are estranged because – because why? For what reason? What of this is good?”

Neville cried with me, gently wiping away tears from my eyes and kissing my cheeks and nose.

“They died for the war but – but – why? They left because – because – because this society turned them both into horrible people – but – but –why?” I stammered out, “How is any of this fair? No one should have to sacrifice themself – no one is born a terrible person –“

“Mags,” Neville murmured softly, “None of this is fair. That’s the point.”

I nodded, wiping my eyes and taking a deep, shaking breath.

“We just have to keep fighting. And we really need to show a good example for Ginny right now so she can get through this,” Neville murmured.

“Yeah,” I sighed, “Yeah, I know. We should – we should find out what’s happening with the others?”

“Yes,” he agreed, kissing me on the nose, “I love you Maggie.”

“I love you Neville,” I breathed.

“We’re going to get through this,” he urged.

“Okay,” I whispered.

“We are,” he insisted. I nodded again and pressed my head into his chest, before pulling back from him and running to McGonagall’s office.

“Professor McGonagall?” I called, knocking heavily on the door, “Are you – are you there?”

“Yes – Maggie I thought you were in Liverpool right now,” McGonagall opened the door and looked out at Neville and me in shock, frowning somewhat.

“There’s a battle in Edinburgh,” I sighed.

“A huge one. A lot of dementors – the Order was fairly overrun so Lupin had to go help and we all came too and Ginny saw her mum get the dementor’s kiss –“ Neville said probably too quickly.

“What?” McGonagall gasped, reaching for the wall and gripping it to stay upright, “ _What?_ ”

“It’s bad – we want to know what’s happening, we left to bring Ginny to safety –“ I explained.

“Where – is she now?” McGonagall demanded.

“Room of Requirement,” Neville answered. McGonagall immediately started walking back the way we came, looking as white as a sheet.

“Maggie,” McGonagall stated, “Go back to my office. Use the floo powder. Call Mrs. MacMillan, she should be in the city. Go, now.”

“Alright,” I nodded, running back to her office and jamming my way in, quickly scurrying to the fireplace and throwing green powder inside.

“Mrs. MacMillan – uh – the Edinburgh Trans Clinic!” I stated as I stuck my head in. The fireplace wooshed around my head and I closed my eyes and mouth, not feeling like breathing in large amounts of soot. I opened my eyes when the wooshing was over, looking to see people hiding around in corners and seemingly panicking. Someone ran over to the fire, looking at me in shock.

“Miss Johnson – what are you –“

“What’s happening with the battle?” I asked, coughing a little.

“Oh you see – well – the dementors have gone, Mr. Potter was quite extraordinary,” the man responded.

“Okay – where are they now?” I asked.

“Well the Death Eaters apparated away but the Ministry… er… the Ministry was not happy with Harry’s use of magic… when he’s not of age,” the man stammered out.

“What the fuck?!” I shouted.

“it was a life or death situation so his charges will probably be cleared, but –“

“Fuck this! What’s happening now?” I demanded.

“They all went to the Ministry to clear his charges directly… well, the Ministry dragged the underage folks away and the overage folks followed suit… no Death Eaters died and Mrs. Weasley has been… taken to where they take people who’ve received the Kiss,” the man whispered.

“Where… is that?” I asked, shuddering to think.

“A ward in St. Mungo’s. Very private. Very isolated. Usually only criminals receive it; she’s in the company of two other people, both of whom were terrible,” the man sighed.

“Brilliant. Thanks,” I grunted, exiting the fire. I knew I had to go back to Neville and McGonagall but I couldn’t bring myself to do it – I threw in more powder and managed to awkwardly crouch in her fireplace, grunting as I hunched over.

“Leaky Cauldron!” I shouted, and I was spinning about while awkwardly hunched over until finally tumbling out of the fire, landing on the wooden floor of the pub with a grunt.

“Oi! What are you doing here?” the barkeep demanded.

“Going for my friends,” I hissed, standing up and wiping myself off. I sprinted out into the street and ran through the slightly snowy London, panting slightly as I sprinted through it. I was heavily reminded of running away to be homeless two years ago; it threatened to overtake me but I forced myself to stay in the present as I ran onto the tube and hurriedly climbed aboard. I leaned against the wall of the train and panted softly, wondering if Neville was freaking out about where I was.

_Well too late for that now…_

I switched trains and quickly got to the stop by the Ministry, running up and using the guest entrance to barge my way in. I ran up to the receptionist and slammed the counter, glaring at her.

“Where the fuck is Harry Potter?” I shouted.

“Excuse me?” the receptionist snapped, “You need to submit your badge to me.”

“Sorry I haven’t been here since the branding started,” I hissed, “But I need to find my brother.”

The receptionist snorted but forcefully grabbed my arm, looking at it and chuckling softly.

“I’m sorry but I can’t –“

“Oh fuck off!” I roared, “I’m not here to burn down the place I’m here to find my brother! Goodbye!” I shouted, running off without another word. The receptionist called after me but I just started sprinting, reaching the elevators and quickly heading down to the levels designated for the Wizengamot. When I left the elevator and started sprinting down the hall I quickly saw the Order, standing outside of a door and muttering to each other.

“Maggie!” Hermione gasped, looking at me in shock, “What are you –“

“Found out what was happening from Ernie’s mum, came straight away,” I panted, “Er – “

“Does anyone know you’re here?” Sirius demanded sternly.

“Not really,” I grimaced.

“Someone send a patronus to Neville,” Lupin sighed, “Let him know that she’s safe.”

I wanted to swear at him, but I held my tongue, “So what’s happening?”

“Harry, Sam, and Ernie are all in there getting tried for use of underage magic. Dumbledore is speaking to their defense,” Nadia explained.

“You really shouldn’t have come,” Shae muttered, “You’re only going to make it worse –“

“Why the fuck are they being tried, they were fighting in self defense?” I snapped.

“Because they technically didn’t need to be there,” Hermione groaned.

“This is bullshit!” I growled.

“Someone take her out of here,” an Order member ordered.

“I am not a child!” I snapped as Tonks grabbed my arm, wrenching it from her grip, “Fuck off. I have every right to be here. Fuck this – you are all – just stop,” I hissed, “Let me be here for my brother you _wankers_.”

No one seemed to want to argue with me and Hermione even grinned.

“ _Thank_ you, that’s what I’ve been _saying_ , they’ve been trying to make us leave,” she rolled her eyes, Nadia nodding eagerly next to her.

“Can someone let Neville know I’m okay before he has a bleeding heart attack?” I shouted. Tonks waved her wand and a patronus floated away, me turning back to the door way and grumbling to myself.

“How did you get into the Ministry? They didn’t really let us in but we scared them,” Nadia asked.

“Similar situation, except I was one person so I didn’t so much scare the receptionist as I said ‘nope’ and came in anyway,” I shrugged.

“Fuck them all,” Hermione hissed.

“Amen, Mione,” I nodded.

“How is Ginny doing?” Nadia asked worriedly, her face torn with pain.

“Not good. She’s very hysterical,” I muttered, “You need to go to her.”

“I don’t know what to do,” Nadia whispered.

“Just be there for her,” Hermione soothed.

“But – but – how do I fix it?” Nadia begged.

“I don’t think you _can_ ,” I murmured, “I think you just have to let her lean on you.”

“I just – I don’t – I feel so helpless,” Nadia groaned, holding her face in her hands.

“You can do this, Nadia,” I patted her on the shoulder, “You really love her, right?”

Nadia nodded rapidly, “I really really do. I’m just – I’m at a loss.”

“Listen to her,” Hermione soothed, “She’ll tell you what she needs, either explicitly or implicitly.”

Nadia nodded again, tears escaping her eyes, as we all hovered around the door. I couldn’t hear anything coming from inside of it and started wringing my wrists in terror, Hermione reaching for me and hugging me around my torso. Her face pressed into my arm and she cried silently, me holding back my own tears as the image of Mrs. Weasley’s soul flying up into that demon played over and over again in my head.

“What went wrong?” Nadia asked softly.

“I have no idea,” I muttered. The Order members were standing away from us, talking to each other softly. I didn’t really care what they were saying, as I didn’t really care about them at the moment.

Endless time seemed to go by in which we all stood together in silence before the door opened. Dumbledore nodded at me and the others before sweeping over to the other Order members, Ernie Sam and Harry running out to us immediately.

“Maggie,” Harry gasped, “You’re okay – where’s Gin and Neville?”

“What happened with _you_?” Hermione begged, reaching for his arms and pulling him towards her. He leaned down and kissed her as Ernie and Sam stood there, their hands intertwined and practically white with how hard they were clutching each other.

“Okay they cleared us but not after a long, drawn out, and painful process,” Sam groaned.

“In which we basically had to explain that we were one hundred percent necessary for the battle and if we hadn’t been there everyone including innocent bystanders would die,” Ernie muttered.

“It was humiliating and demoralizing and we’re never going to get the Ministry to change,” Sam finished.

“How are the others?” Harry asked as we started following the Order members out of the Ministry.

“Ginny is absolutely distraught. Neville and McGonagall are with him and they’re probably worried sick about me,” I admitted, “I kind of ran out here recklessly.”

“I can’t believe it – it was – oh you didn’t see her afterwards but –“ Harry rambled.

“I saw her vegetable body fall to the ground, though,” I muttered.

“Wait you _saw it happen?_ ” Sam gasped.

“It was horrifying and I’d really rather not talk about it,” I insisted as we left the building, me flicking the bird at the receptionist who glared at me angrily. We left out into the street and the people who could apparated grabbed Hermione, Sam, Ernie, Harry, and me, taking us to Hogsmeade. I walked up back to the castle tiredly, running my hand through my hair as it shook from shock and horror.

“We’ll have a DA meeting soon,” Harry muttered softly.

“What – for?” Sam asked irritably.

“Actual DA stuff,” Harry reminded, “We have some work to do.”

“Okay?” Ernie frowned as we walked through the corridor. We passed Peeves, an individual I tended to ignore one hundred percent of the time, but who right now was taunting us for looking glum.

“Oh look at these wee rebels, has the Ministry got you down –“

“FUCK OFF!” I screamed, reaching for the nearest heavy object – a vase of some sort on a table – and throwing it at him. Peeves zoomed backwards in shock as it went through him and clattered to the floor behind him, me reaching for the suit of armor’s spear next to me.

“GO AWAY!” I roared. Peeves immediately zoomed away, cackling, as I gripped the spear tighter in my hand.

“Maggie –“ Hermione whispered.

“Oh fuck off Hermione. I saw the mum of one of my best mates get her soul sucked out today and I’m not going to reign it in,” I snapped. Hermione nodded, not even attempting to argue with me as we walked up to the Room of Requirement.

Neville immediately rushed to me, holding me tightly again and crying somewhat. McGonagall was with Ginny on the couch, trying to sooth her as Nadia ran over and held her close to her.

“Don’t do that again I thought you had run away –“ Neville blubbered.

“Nev, if I ran away again I’d take you with me,” I reassured softly.

“Okay just – don’t –“ Neville mumbled.

“I won’t,” I promised. I turned to see Ginny sobbing hysterically into Nadia’s shoulder, McGonagall looking more pained and horrified than I had ever seen her.

“Mags,” Neville whispered. I looked up at him, biting my lip somewhat.

“How can we deal with this?” he begged.

“One day at a time,” I whispered.

One day at a time apparently meant one painful day after another. The pain in the end could only get worse as the weekend dragged on, and the new week came, with a cloud of gloom settled over the castle. An innocent person getting the Dementor’s Kiss was not something anyone could process well.  

“Alright, emergency DA meeting,” Harry called, gathering everyone from the DA to the room of requirement. Ginny was sitting in a corner, staring out into space, as Nadia held her to her bosom and looked distraught.

“Why are we here, Harry?” Michael Corner asked tiredly.

“We don’t have any rebellion stuff to do,” Elena agreed softly.

“This isn’t about the rebellion, this is about the reason we started this clusterfuck of misfits in the first place,” Harry sighed, looking around, “This is about self defense.”

I looked up slowly from Neville’s shoulder, watching Harry intently.

“We’re going to do patronuses today. This weekend – something – it was horrible. What happened was horrible. And – and – I don’t want that to happen to any of you, so – so – so I want us to practice them and learn them like we were going to before all that shite happened last year,” Harry explained.

“You mean when the shit literally hit the fan?” Seamus offered. People managed a weak laugh around the room.

“Yes. Let’s do this, gents,” Harry nodded.

“So what you have to do,” Harry began as we all stood up, wands out, standing around the room and looking at each other excitedly, “Is picture a truly happy moment in your life.”

“What do you mean, Harry?” Cho asked.

“I mean _deep joy_ ,” Harry smiled, “Like, for me, I’d picture right now the moment Hermione and I got together –“

A bunch of people cooed in appreciation. I looked over at Neville, and remembered his face when I told him I loved him. That would be a good one.

“Not something like – winning a Quidditch match or something like that – no – deep happiness, gents. I know that’s hard now, with what happened, but I think remembering happy memories right now will help all of us at least a little,” Harry continued.

Ginny looked at him skeptically, her face still ghostly pale and tearstained.

“Once you’ve gotten your _deeply joyful_ memory,” Harry continued, looking away from Ginny sadly, “You have to say _Expecto Patronum_. This is a lot more difficult when there are actual dementors, given that they purposefully make it so that you can’t think about happy memories or happy anything – but in this room it should be easier. Don’t be surprised if you can’t get _anything_ to happen when a dementor is present – or just a whisp of white smoke – but here you can get a fully formed animal.”

Many people around the room nodded in understanding.

“But the more you practice – and honestly I wish we had boggarts, those are good practice, I can ask around about them – the more likely you can get a fully formed patronus when you’re up against the real thing. Alright gents?” Harry called.

“Alright!” a bunch of people responded.

“Let me show you, and then you can all practice yourselves,” Harry explained. He closed his eyes and smiled – Hermione blushed furiously next to me – and then waved his wand, shouting “ _EXPECTO PATRONUM!_ ”

A large, white stag ran out of his wand, circling the room quickly as the others applauded happily. It finally ran back to Harry and he patted it’s nose before it disappeared in a wisp of smoke.

“Alright? Go ahead!” Harry encouraged.

I pointed my wand in front of me and pictured Neville’s face when I told him I loved him. It filled me with pure joy and happiness and even a bit of longing – things were simpler back then. I waved my wand and murmured the incantation – but only a cloud of smoke came out. I groaned and pictured, now instead, when I found out Neville was _alive_ during the battle of the Ministry – more smoke.

“Just keep trying, everyone!” Harry urged.

I kept trying, picturing many happy memories – Harry waking up, Elena being happy after her major depressive episodes, the feeling of being with Neville, when he found me on the roof – because that was a happy memory – all of it – but –

But I still only produced smoke.

I bit my lip in frustration, sniffling somewhat as Neville walked over to me and squeezed my shoulder.

“My life’s been too terrible, Nev,” I whispered, “I’ve used up all my best memories –“

“Your life isn’t terrible, Mags,” he whispered back, everyone around us still busy, some people now managing to make animals – Hermione had a raven that matched her form flying around her head.

“It is, it is terrible,” I blubbered out, pressing my face into his chest, “I’m so angry and tired and depressed –“

“Your life isn’t terrible love,” he murmured again, “It’s wonderful. You have wonderful friends and family and you have me – am I terrible?”

“God no. You’re the focus of the bulk of the memories I’m trying out,” I murmured.

“There you go,” Neville agreed, “Just keep trying, love.”

“Thank you,” I murmured, and I kept trying, cycling through memories and trying to not let the ineffectiveness of them get to me. More and more people were producing corporeal patronuses – though Ginny wasn’t, which comforted me.

Neville managed to get a large, regal lion coming out of his wand – it wasn’t one with a mane, but it didn’t look particularly like a female lion, either.

“I’ve read about that,” Hermione murmured, “There are male lions who don’t have manes.”

Neville grinned, watching it, “So no gender? Perfect.”

“Well, animals don’t have a concept of gender, but that’s the closest you’ll get,” Hermione smirked.

Neville was beaming at the lion as it ran around him before disappearing. I looked over at him, smiling slightly.

“I remembered when you said I love you,” Neville murmured, “I know it’s cheesy, but it’s the best moment of my life, still.”

I smiled weakly and kissed him on the cheek.

Maybe when he told me? Even though I already knew…

I pictured the feeling of the first time we kissed – the snow falling around us, his arms wrapped tightly around me, the little moans of pure joy he made, the feeling of us so close to each other for the first time and it being just as fulfilling as I always had dreamed –

I couldn’t shout the incantation; I was still overcome with the memory and the feeling it gave me as I whispered, “Expecto Patronum.”

A large, beautiful dragon, in my shape and size, flew out into the room and circled around everyone. They oohed and aahed at it as I watched it fly, smiling weakly as Neville hugged me eagerly and in congratulations.

“What was the memory, Mags?” Neville asked softly.

“Our first kiss,” I smiled weakly at him, making him beam and kiss me. I giggled at that and it was the first proper laugh I had had in days; Neville squeezed me tighter as everyone continued to practice around us. I continued to use that memory for a while, the power of it simply amazing as I made dragons appear and fly around me and Neville made lions run around the pair of us.

“What an amazing day that was,” Neville murmured as our patronuses charged together through the room, “To produce this.”

“It was the best day of my life,” I agreed softly.

“Same,” Neville whispered, “But we’ll have better days in the future. I promise.”

“Thank you Nev,” I choked out, kissing him on the cheek as Harry raised his hands over the crowd.

“Good job today guys. I’ll start making inquiries about those boggarts. My worst fear is still _probably_ dementors so it should work?” Harry grimaced as people laughed around him.

“What – it could be loved ones dying now, it’s been a while since I’ve seen one of those things –“

“On that note,” Hermione rolled her eyes, “Yes, we’ll find a way to practice with a better facsimile than open air.”

“Night!” Harry called out, as everyone started to shuffle out. Ginny was still staring at the wall, not having even attempted the spell. Nadia looked at the four of us desperately.

“Hey Ginny,” I murmured, “Do you need to talk?”

She shook her head, her lips pursed together silently.

“Alright, let’s just help you get back to the dormitory, alright?” I urged. She nodded, us walking together through the corridors.

“Ginny?”

We all turned around to see Ron. He was crying – he never cried – and was absolutely as white as a sheet.

“Ron, what’s up?” Harry asked, frowning.

“You weren’t in meeting today,” Hermione agreed.

“I… I was hoping I could tell Ginny this in private,” he choked out, looking horrified.

“What happened?” Ginny asked dully, “What happened now.”

“I… I…” Ron started crying harder, holding his arms tightly around his torso as he did so, “I can’t – I can’t say it – I –“

“Ron?” Nadia whispered, looking terrified, “Ron, what is it?”

“I – I got a letter from Bill –“ Ron whispered.

“How’s Mum in St. Mungo’s?” Ginny asked dully.

“She’s – I’m assuming she’s alright, this letter wasn’t about her,” Ron continued.

“What was it about?” I asked, terrified, my heart pounding loudly in my ears.

“I – I – I – I’ll just read the letter out loud, okay. I can’t – I can’t paraphrase this,” Ron whispered.

“Okay,” Hermione murmured, looking at him worriedly.

Ron pulled out the letter from his pocket – it was crumpled up and tearstained beyond belief. He smoothed it out a little, his hands shaking as he did so, pulling it up to his face and opening his mouth to speak. He still didn’t, crying heavily as he stared at the paper, looking like he was about to crumple to the floor.

“D… Dear Ron,” Ron began, sniffling, “I am writing to you today because… because… because someone had to t-t-tell you,” Ron managed to gasp out, actually falling to the floor as he read it again.

“I… I am distraught and… and cannot think clearly. But… but as you know, Mum was instrumental in helping… helping… Fred with his day to day life. Fred was… depressed after what had happened between… G-G-George… and Maggie. And he… blamed himself… for all of it,” Ron gasped out. Ginny was watching him with a look of horror, already guessing what would come next. I had started sobbing again.

“And… and… it didn’t… take long after Mum… was lost… for him… to spiral out of control,” Ron continued, sobbing heavily and gripping his paper, “He also… b-b-blamed himself… for Mum going… thought… he should have been at the battle…”

“No,” Hermione begged, “No, Ron, no, please don’t continue – please – Ron no –“

“He… this morning… took some of the giant rat poison… that mum had in the garage… and… and…” Ron gasped out, “And he killed himself –“

“NO,” Ginny screamed at the top of her lungs, “NO, NO, NO, NO –“

“He left a n-note-“

“NO, RON, RON TAKE THAT BACK – SAY THIS IS A CRUEL JOKE – RON – RON NO –“

“Which I have t-t-t-ranscribed here –“

“RON STOP, STOP, STOP, HE’S NOT DEAD, HE’S NOT DEAD, HE’S _NOT DEAD_ –“

“Dear Family…”

“RON NO STOP NO STOP I DON’T WANT TO HEAR THIS HE CAN’T BE DEAD HE CAN’T BE DEAD HE CAN’T BE DEAD –“

“I am sorry to write this letter, and I am sorry for the state you will find me in –“

“NO NO NO NO NO NO NO, RON, NO, STOP, RON, _STOP_ –“

“I cannot escape it any longer. I am at fault for what happened to Maggie. I should have stopped her relationship with George, or stepped in when it turned abusive –“

“NO STOP NO STOP NO STOP NO STOP TAKE IT BACK TAKE IT BACK TAKE IT BACK RON NO RON NO RON NO –“

“I am solely to blame for her subsequent breakdown, drug addiction, homelessness, and even eventual suicide attempt…”

“NOOOOOOOO,” Ginny fell to her knees, screaming loudly, “NOOOOOOOO PLEASE NO –“

“I cannot live with this guilt. I cannot live with the guilt that I broke up our family, our friendships, and a life –“

“NOOOOOOOOOOO _NOOOOOOOOOOO **NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO**_ – “

“And now, Mum is gone, when I should have been there to help her – I can produce a patronus, and yet, I was not there to help her fight –“

“STOP STOP STOP STOP STOP –“

“I love you all, but I cannot live with this guilt any longer. I cannot live in a world where my twin is a horrible person and I am horrible for not having stopped him. I love you all, and I hope that the future is brighter for you than it was for me –“

Ginny fell in a crouched position in a wordless scream. I was leaning against the wall, crying heavier and heavier in anguish, unable to handle _my own_ guilt at his words as I wanted to erase everything from the past three years into oblivion. Neville was sobbing into my back, holding me to try and keep me aloft. Hermione was wailing into her hands and Harry was crying silently with Nadia, both of them with tears streaming down their faces like rivers.

“All of my love, Fred.’ I wish I did not have to tell you this – but I did not know what else to say in this letter –“

Ginny screamed into the floor, so loud that the whole castle must have heard it.

“I will hold a funeral for him in the next few days, and will send people to help you and your friends get here… though I will not invite George, I have also written him a letter…”

Ginny screamed even more and started pounding the ground with her fists.

“Please, stay strong, and talk to someone – anyone – just don’t get like this. Love, Bill,” Ron finished, his voice shaking still as he burst into his own tears and sobs.

“NO,” Ginny looked up, “IT’S NOT TRUE – IT’S NOT –“

“It is,” Ron whispered.

“NO – NO – NO – NO – NO –“

“Ginny, breathed!” I begged, reaching for her.

“NO, NO, NO, NO, NO!” Ginny screamed, “NO, HE’S NOT GONE, FRED DID NOT KILL HIMSELF –“

“He did, Ginny,” Ron whispered, “He did – I’m so sorry – I’m so so so so so sorry –“

“NO THIS DIDN’T HAPPEN THIS COULDN’T HAVE HAPPENED _WHO LET THIS HAPPEN?_ ”

“No one let it happen it just did –“

“WHO WAS SUPPOSED TO BE WATCHING HIM WHO LEFT HIM ALONE WHO LET HIM GET THIS BAD WHO DID THIS WHO DID THIS WHO DID THIS –“

“Ginny –“

“NO NO NO, NO, NO, HE’S NOT DEAD, FRED IS NOT DEAD, NO, NO HE’S NOT, HE’S NOT, HE’S _NOT_ –“

“Ginny please –“ Ron was sobbing heavily, pulling at his hair, “I can’t – Ginny –“

“NO! NO! NO!”

“I can’t lose you too, Ginny, please, please calm down, Gin – please –“

“NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO!”

“Ginny!” I begged, reaching for her and sobbing, as everyone else did the same, “Ginny, please!”

“ _NOOOOOOOO!_ ” Ginny screamed louder, “ _NOOOOOO!_ ”

“Ginny,” Nadia whispered, crying so hard that the word was almost intelligible, “Ginny –“

“NO!” Ginny screamed again, “NO, NOT AGAIN, NOT _AGAIN_ –“

“What is _happening_?” McGonagall walked up to all of us, “You should all be _going to bed_ –“

“McGonagall, Fred killed himself,” Nadia whispered.

McGonagall’s eyes widened in shock and she fell to the ground, landing at least in a safe position and holding her hands over her mouth, tears falling quickly from her eyes.

“No,” she whispered.

“You gotta take Ginny to someone, she’s breaking down,” Hermione blubbered through her tears.

“Yes – Ronald, Ginny, now, with me, _now_ ,” McGonagall insisted. Ginny refused to move, so Ron picked her up and carried her with McGonagall away from us. Nadia was sobbing horrifically, curled up into a ball and praying so softly I almost didn’t notice, but she was praying, Arabic words tumbling from her mouth as she looked up to the sky with tear stained eyes.

“It’s all my fault,” I whispered.

“Maggie _no_ –“ Neville begged, now crying harder.

“it’s not your fault,” Harry insisted

“I SHOULD NEVER HAVE DATED GEORGE –“

“YOU WERE FOURTEEN OF COURSE YOU LIKED HIM!”

“I SHOULD NEVER – I SHOULD NEVER – I SHOULDN’T…”

“Maggie breathe,” Hermione ordered. I looked at her and took a deep breath, Nadia still praying behind us, my tears flowing like rivers down my face.

“Maggie, this isn’t your fault. You were not the person who caused the rape. George is. Not you, I promise,” Hermione whispered.

“I – I – I –” I stammered out.

“You have depression. You have attempted suicide before. You need to reign yourself back in and breathe,” Hermione urged, “You can’t let this destroy you again.”

“Please, don’t, Mags, please,” Harry begged. Neville had just wrapped his arms tightly around me, squeezing me so tight as though to keep me together.

“I – I – I –“ I mumbled.

“It’s not your fault,” Neville whispered in my ear, “Maggie, it’s not your fault.”

I cried harder, holding my face in my hands and falling to the ground. Neville came with me, pulling me into his lap and holding me in his arms as tightly as he could.

“He’s gone,” I whispered softly. Neville held me even tighter, whimpering against me and crying with me.

“He’s gone. Fred’s gone, and he’s not coming back,” I whispered again.

“This war has taken too many of us, but it’s not your fault,” Neville murmured.

“Fred needed help. We should have forced him to get help…”

“Sometimes people won’t seek it out,” Hermione blubbered, “Oh – Oh I just knew it was bad when he came to the party and we snogged – oh –“

“I shouldn’t have been a dick to him I – I – I” Harry cried.

I sobbed heavier into my hands, holding my body together tightly as I looked over at Neville. He looked back at me desperately, reaching for my face and stroking it with a shaking hand.

“He used to be one of my best mates, Neville,” I whispered, “We played pranks together. Explored the school together. Talked about being bisexual together. Did so much together.”

“I know,” Neville whispered.

“How could I let him die?” I begged, “How could I let him get away from me? Because of his brother? How could I have let that happen?”

“It’s not your fault,” Neville begged, “it’s not. It’s not your fault.”

“Some of it is,” I whispered, “Some of it.”

“Don’t – Maggie – Maggie don’t –“ Neville sobbed, “If you die – no – no no no no no no no no no –“

“I won’t,” I promised softly. I couldn’t ever do that to him again.

“But it’s my fault,” I whimpered, falling against Neville’s chest and crying all the harder. He held me tighter, the others still crying and praying, as the pain enveloped my heart and made the thought of producing a patronus a complete and utter impossibility.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear to God  
> There is a point to all of this suffering  
> Please comment; this was really, REALLY hard for me to write because of how painful it is and I know it's painful and terrible, but trust me when I say the story needs for this to happen for something else extremely important to happen and just argh it's a spiral of causality but I DID NOT ENJOY WRITING THIS PLEASE COMMENT TO MAKE IT WORTH IT  
> Love Meg


	121. Chapter One Hundred and Nineteen: January 16 - 17, 1997, Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Complication's my claim to fame   
> And I can't believe there's another   
> Constantly just another   
> I can't avoid what I can't control   
> And I'm losing ground   
> Still I can't stand down   
> And I know, yeah I know, yeah 
> 
> I know you stay true when my world is false   
> Everything around's breaking down to chaos   
> I always see you when my sight is lost   
> Everything around's breaking down to chaos"   
> ~ MuteMath, "Chaos"

Chapter 119: January 16 – 17, 1997, Hogwarts

The shock felt like it was never going to wear off.

“It’s my fault,” I whispered to Neville as I stared at the ceiling – I hadn’t slept the whole night.

“Mags,” Neville murmured softly, looking awake as well – clearly he hadn’t slept either, “Mags, it’s not your fault.”

“it’s one hundred percent my fault,” I muttered, “I shouldn’t have – I shouldn’t –“

“Mags,” Neville begged, “Mags, please.”

I looked at him, biting my lip to stop myself from crying more.

“Mags, it’s not your fault, I promise,” Neville whispered, “Only George, okay? Only George.”

I nodded, wiping my eyes and wrapping my arms tightly around Nev, squeezing him as though for dear life.

“Hold me together,” I whispered hoarsely, my voice breaking on the words. Neville nodded, holding me even tighter, kissing me softly on the forehead.

“It’s going to be okay, Maggie. It’s going to be okay. He’s better now, okay?” Neville whispered. I looked up at him, frowning.

“We know we have an afterlife,” Neville explained softly, “We know that there’s something after death for us.”

I nodded silently.

“I don’t think that our mental illnesses are a part of our personalities,” Neville paused, “They may contribute but they’re not integral, they’re just a product of bad brain chemistry.”

I nodded again.

“At least, not things like depression and anxiety… I like to think we’ll be free of the debilitating parts of those once we’re dead,’ Neville explained. I reached for his arm desperately.

“You – you figured out how to live in the world again. You managed to find joy here, with the people who love you,” Neville paused, “Fred couldn’t do that. He couldn’t move past what had happened, what he felt responsible for. He was suffering. You know that – you could see that on his face when he visited. He couldn’t live in this world anymore with his brain screaming at him.”

“Yeah,” I whispered.

“He’s not suffering anymore, Mags,” Neville soothed, stroking my face and kissing my forehead, “He’s with his Dad, and _your_ parents, and Professor Sprout, and Harry’s parents, and a bunch of other people, and he’s happy, and he knows it’s not his fault now, and he’ll be okay.”

“I just wish I could tell him it wasn’t his fault,” I mumbled, “I wish I could bring him back for Ginny.”

“I know,” Neville whispered.

“I wish I could – could – I wish I could just rewind time. I want to go back and never fall for George. I want to have some sort of tryst with – with – with some girl or boy or other and then fall for you – or even better just be with you and save us both a lot of suffering –“ I rambled out.

“You know we were both too young to be together back then,” Neville murmured, “I didn’t understand that then but I know it now… we were too immature.”

“I don’t want this – I want to have – have – I –“ I stammered out, collapsing into Neville’s chest and crying harder.

“It’s not your fault, Mags. George should never have broken that barrier and he did. He did and he ruined lives, relationships, and so much more. No one but George is at fault here. I love you,” Neville whispered, “And it’s neither your fault, nor Fred’s.”

I nodded again, holding my face tightly in my hands.

“Mags?” Neville whispered. I looked up from my hands at him, tears still pouring from my eyes.

“I love you,” he murmured again.

“I love you,” I responded, reaching for his face, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be,” Neville shook his head, “We’ll figure this out, together.”

I nodded again, resting against his chest.

“That thing about him being okay now was comforting,” I whispered.

“He is,” Neville eagerly whispered, “He is one hundred percent better now. He’s with his Dad and they’re talking about – I dunno, muggle things – or maybe how proud they are of Ginny and Ron for heading this rebellion – and he’s talking about how much he wishes he could have stayed alive with us, but his disease, it got him – like diseases do – but they’re… they’re playing wizard’s chess together, and talking, and laughing, and Fred’s saying he’s sorry to your parents, but they don’t care, they know it wasn’t his fault, and that comforts him too, and he’s just getting happier and happier, and soon he’s going to pull a prank on everyone, the biggest prank ever, the great Afterlife Prank, and he’ll dedicate it to us here still alive, and it’ll be brilliant.”

I laughed weakly, “Thank you Nev.”

“Of course Mags,” he yawned softly, “We’re going to be exhausted today.”

“Well, we should go to class and live our lives,” I whispered, “I think that’s what we have to do.”

“Yeah,” Neville agreed, looking over at the mound of raptor floof still asleep, “We should bring the flock and if Ginny’s around, definitely give her cuddle time.”

“Yes,” I agreed softly, “Yes, yes we should.”

We left the room with the Flock in tow, Blue clearly sensing my continual distress and nuzzling up against my legs as we walked through the castle. The Great Hall seemed subdued, though no announcement of the death was made; he wasn’t a current student anymore and people died all the time now. It only affected our group.

I reached the table, where Hermione and Harry were sitting, looking downtrodden. Penny immediately ran up to Hermione and into her lap, while Mong went into Harry’s.

“Hey,” I murmured.

“How are you doing Maggie?” Harry asked, looking at me desperately. He still felt guilty himself over the time I had tried to kill myself – I knew it, though we never talked about it – and he didn’t want that to happen again under any circumstances.

“I’m okay,” I whispered, “Neville said something very comforting to me this morning.”

“Oh?” Hermione asked, looking up at Neville, “What did you say?”

“Just that – mental illness shouldn’t follow us to the afterlife,” Neville shrugged, “So… Fred’s at peace now.”

“Yes,” Harry whispered, “Yes, he is.”

“He succumbed to an illness, but he isn’t ill anymore,” Neville continued, “Sometimes, we don’t beat it.”

Hermione was crying but she nodded, pressing her face into Harry’s shoulder.

“And just think of all the pranks he’s pulling on your parents in the afterlife, Harry. He’s entering a pranking war with James as we speak,” Neville finished, smiling weakly.

“Oh definitely. I wish I could see it, and I hope they’ll tell me all about it,” Harry grinned a little.

“Do we know where Ginny is right now?” I asked softly, looking up and down the Gryffindor table and seeing neither her nor Ron.

“I have no idea,” Hermione admitted, “I was hoping you’d know. We just woke up… couldn’t sleep.”

“Neither could we,” I murmured, “I’ll go ask McGonagall. I want to… I want to apologize to her.”

“It’s not your fault –“ Harry begged.

“No, I mean, I think you’re probably right, maybe, but –“ I took in a deep breath, “I want to apologize to her anyway.” I got up and walked up to the front, Blue following me closely as I reached the front table. McGonagall stood up immediately, running around the edge of it to get to me, her hand quickly reaching my shoulder.

“Maggie, if you would like to come to my office to talk –“

“No I – I – I think I’m doing okay,” I whispered, “As good as I could be. I’m not – going to hurt myself.”

“Oh thank Merlin,” McGonagall breathed, “I can’t lose any more of you –“

I smiled weakly at her, before crying – I couldn’t even stop myself. She wrapped me in a hug and lead me out of the hall, back out to the Entrance Hall.

“It’s not your fault, Maggie, you cannot –“

“I know it’s not my fault,” I whispered, “I was… wondering… how Ginny was doing.”

“Oh,” McGonagall paused, “Not good, Maggie. Not good at all.”

“Where is she?” I asked, “I think… I want to talk to her.”

“She’s in the Hospital Wing, being monitored,” McGonagall paused, “She doesn’t seem to be suicidal either, but she was distraught the whole night.”

“Of course,” I paused, “And Ron?”

“He’s staying with her… he’s a bit better,” McGonagall sighed, “I can take you to them. But I’d like to talk to you afterwards if that is alright.”

“Okay,’ I whispered, “But class –“

“When was the last time you and your fellow students seriously worried about your schoolwork?” McGonagall let out the deepest, most lung-shaking sigh I had ever heard.

“Sorry,” I murmured.

“It’s fine. I do not blame any of you,” McGonagall paused, “Let’s go.”

“Wait,” I whispered, “One second.” I ran back into the Great Hall and grabbed Ave, hugging Neville hurriedly to indicate that I was okay. Neville watched me go in fear as I took Ave with me, the little raptor eagerly following along behind me in curiosity.

“Alright,” I swallowed, looking up at McGonagall, “Let’s go.”

McGonagall nodded and we walked together to the Hospital Wing, Blue and Ave chirping at each other rapidly as we went up the Grand Staircase and got to the Wing. McGonagall entered first, opening the door for me cautiously as I followed, looking for Ginny and finding her lying down on a bed and staring up at the ceiling.

“Gin?” I whispered. Ave ran out from me, trotting up to her and hopping onto her bed.

“Ave,” Ginny whispered, holding the bird in her hands and scratching him behind the crest, “Hi, Ave.” She looked up to see me and smiled weakly.

“Hi, Maggie,” she greeted.

“I’m so sorry, Ginny,” I begged, trying to stop the tears from flowing from my eyes again, “I’m so so sorry –“

“It’s not your fault,” Ginny said sternly, sitting up rapidly and looking at me desperately, “It’s really not, Maggie. I don’t think it’s your fault at all.”

“You don’t?” I whispered.

“No. It’s still… It’s still George’s,” Ginny paused, looking upset again.

“What?” I asked, sitting at the foot of her bed. Ave snuggled up against her and she pet him lovingly, Blue reaching my lap and chirping at me for her own scritchles.

“Oh Maggie, I don’t want to add to your troubles, please,” Ginny murmured.

“You clearly have had yours added to enough,” I reminded.

“I… yes, but…” Ginny sighed, “I received a letter this morning.”

“Oh,” I whispered.

“Yeah,” Ginny paused, “It’s from George. It’s addressed to just me, so if you’d like me to keep it to myself, I can.”

“No… you want to share it,” I took in a deep breath, “I’m so numb from what happened I… I can handle it.”

“If you’re sure,” Ginny paused, “I wouldn’t want… to make this worse.”

“No,” I insisted, “If you think it would help me, then please, say it.”

Ginny nodded again, “Okay. Um. Here it goes.” She took a deep breath, pulling out the sheet of paper and sighing.

“Dear Ginny,

I know you don’t want to hear from me. I’m probably the last person you’d ever want to hear from in your life,” Ginny took a deep, shaking breath, clearly holding back more tears, “And you have every right to throw away this letter and never again talk to me. I wouldn’t blame you. But I had to write it.”

I gripped Blue tightly in my arms, watching Ginny nervously and tiredly.

“I do not have depression. I am not suicidal from guilt, though I think my guilt is greater than anyone’s who has ever lived. I did a terrible thing, and it has ruined so many lives now. I had no idea I was doing it at the time, which is no excuse. I only wanted to stop Maggie from leaving me. I didn’t care how I accomplished this goal, and in the end, that was my mistake. I didn’t care about whether or not Maggie was happy, only that she was still mine. I acted like her love and her person was something I possessed. I see that that was my error now, that that was my mistake. I see that I can never truly be forgiven for what I put her through, and what I did to her. And I am not asking for forgiveness. I do not deserve it,” Ginny said softly, looking at me as she said it. Her eyes were filled with a sadness that I was only used to seeing on my own face.

“Fred was my best mate. He was my twin. It’s hard to describe that relationship. I lost him the past year. I lost him because of what I did, the lives I ruined, the relationships I destroyed, all because I was possessive. It was all my fault, and he did not deserve this. He did not deserve to feel guilty over something that wasn’t in his control. I fought him, for days – weeks – months – nigh on a year, trying to get him to see that Maggie and I would be good for each other. I insisted that what happened _wouldn’t_ happen. I insisted that no, I wouldn’t treat Maggie like I owned her, that no, I would see her as my equal. I insisted that the age gap would not affect anything, that my mentor role in her life had nothing to do with our friendship. I should have listened to Fred. He did everything he could,” Ginny continued. I tried to not cry, gripping Blue’s feathered body loosely.

“I was overcome. I don’t know what with. I thought she was beautiful – still do, but that doesn’t mean anything. I thought she was brilliant – still do, but again, does not mean anything. I wanted to be with her, I wanted to make her laugh and happy and hold her hand. I remember when she kissed me on the cheek before the big Quidditch Match, right before we won the Cup. I remember being so _giddy_ with happiness that night that it powered me through the whole Match. This memory makes me want to vomit. How did I not see it? How did I not see what Fred saw? I was blinded by my crush. I was blinded by some weird possessive affection for her that was not love, though I thought it was. I refused to see myself and the way I treated her for what it was. And for that, our brother is dead. My twin is dead,” Ginny was crying again, her knuckles white on the paper.

“And he never forgave me. I did not deserve forgiveness. But he died thinking of me as I am – a horrible excuse for a person. I don’t know what I would have wanted. I have been trying to fix it – to remedy what I did. I can never make it up to Maggie, and I never would even try. But I have seen the error in what I had done, and I have tried to make up for it. I’ve written many articles for Wixen magazines talking about rape culture, and how what I did was unacceptable. I’ve talked to many audiences of people, regardless of whether or not they’re with the Rebellion. I know this won’t undo what I did. I tried to go to jail, to punish myself, because I deserved to be punished, but the Ministry didn’t care… I would have stayed my whole life if I could have,” Ginny whispered. I was crying, still. Everything hurt.

“I do not want your forgiveness. I do not want anyone’s – especially Maggie’s. I do not deserve it. I didn’t want Fred’s, when he was still with us. I think, in the end, what I needed – what I was hoping to eventually earn – was your love again. Was his love again. Not Maggie’s, no – just the family. I just want my family to no longer despise me. To see that I have realized what I did, and am trying to fix it, so that it never happens to anyone else… I don’t deserve this either. I don’t. There is no reason you should give this to me. But in our world where our Dad can die and our Mum can get her soul destroyed and our brother can fall into despair, I can’t not try. Ginny, something could happen to any of us at any moment. And if that were to happen, and I didn’t at least attempt to tell you all how regretful – how sorrowful – how terrible I still feel about everything, and will until the day I die – I would never forgive myself for that either,” Ginny’s breathing and speech was shaking.

“I suppose this letter is selfish. I am sorry for that. I do not know how to write an unselfish letter about this. If I were to be completely unselfish, then I would die myself. Because I have done something that I will never forgive myself for, and never deserve to be forgiven for. I have wrecked multiple lives in my quest for – I don’t know what. I still don’t fully understand all my motivations from that time. If I ever do, I will let you know. I don’t expect a reply to this. I do not expect to be brought back into the family. Just know that I am a selfish, flawed, horrific person – but I cannot kill myself. I am not hopeless, nor do I wish for death. I am afraid of it, what it holds for me, for if there is heaven and hell, I’m certainly destined for the latter. I think when I should die, it should be for a reason. So I will continue to fight for the side of good – knowing I do not fully belong among you – and I shall continue to try to atone for what I did. I never will, but I can’t stop trying. I have to. I love you, and I hope you are able to get through what I have done to Fred now, as well as Maggie. I hope you will find peace, eventually, from the horrors of him passing. I never will. George,” Ginny looked up at me, tears falling from her eyes again.

I looked at her desperately, my heart clenching so tight and my entire body just laden down with a deep, bone shattering sadness that I couldn’t speak.

“I can’t forgive him, don’t – don’t think this is me – trying to –“ Ginny stammered out.

“I don’t,” I whispered.

“I just… I don’t know… what I want to do,” Ginny murmured, “I don’t know if I want to… let him back into my life or not. I can’t… I can’t hurt you. So if you don’t want me to, I won’t. And I certainly won’t let him anywhere near you whatsoever.”

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“But… he’s right. If one of us dies… if he dies… and… my family is being decimated,” Ginny swallowed, “We’re being plucked off one by one by one. What if, one day, he’s all I have left? How could I live with myself, if I didn’t talk to him?”

“I understand,” I nodded, though my heart still clenched.

“I’m just asking for you to think about it. Whatever you need, I will follow,” Ginny paused, “And if that’s for me to ignore him and continue to not talk to him, just say so.”

“I don’t want to make you do that,” I paused, “I don’t. I believe his words. I do.”

“But?” Ginny whispered.

“I can’t have him in my life again,” I gasped out, my heart hurting so hard I couldn’t think, “I can’t – I – I can’t –“

“Of course, and I’m not suggesting that whatsoever,” Ginny begged, reaching for me and holding tightly to my arms.

“So I… I need to… I need to think about this. Talk to Neville about it,” I murmured, “That sort of thing.”

“Yes,” Ginny nodded, “Yes, I think that’s smart.”

“Thank you,” I hugged her tightly, “I’m sorry all of this is happening – Ginny – Ginny I’m so sorry –“

“I’ll get through it,” she whispered into my shoulder, “You said so yourself.”

“I… you will,” I nodded, looking at her fiercely, “I know you will.”

“I… need to be alone for a while, but… can Ave stay?” Ginny asked.

“Of course,” I agreed, “Of course he can. And come to the Room of Requirement later, if you can.”

“I will,” Ginny nodded. I got up with Blue, Blue chirping at Ave as we left, walking back through the corridors to McGonagall’s office.

“Professor?” I whispered, walking inside. She nodded at me, pulling me forward to her.

“Yes, come in,” she murmured, nodding at me, “Thank you for coming here.”

“You asked me to,” I reminded softly.

“Yes, well…” McGonagall breathed in sharply, “This is… I…”

“What is it?” I asked.

“I want you to tell me if you’re spiraling again,” McGonagall begged, “Maggie, it is no secret that… that…”

I looked at her in confusion, trying to stop myself from crying again at the thought of Fred being gone.

“I think of you as a daughter,” McGonagall managed to force out, “More so than any of your fellow classmates.”

“Yes,” I whispered, though it sent a warmth through my heart that I needed desperately in that moment, “Yes, I do know that.”

“Well, just know that you are not at fault for what’s happened,” McGonagall stated firmly, “You did not cause Fred to kill himself, nor George to rape you. You were a fourteen-year-old girl, with her first crush, and you didn’t have responsibility for that situation. And you couldn’t have helped Fred, when no one could.”

“Thank you,” I whispered.

“If you were to leave us all,” McGonagall paused, “Then you would be doing no one favors. Neville would soon follow you. Harry and Hermione would be left alone, to fight this fight without two of the people they care about most. So many friends and loved ones, left to deal with the world without you in it. You have seen how we all react to Fred’s death – how do you think everyone would react to yours?”

I nodded, trying to not cry, “I know… I know… I’m not… I’m really not…”

“I didn’t think it would hurt to reinforce it,” McGonagall paused, “I want for you and your friends to stop suffering. I want to help you all, but especially you.”

“Thank you,” I cried, reaching for her and hugging her. She held me, patting my shoulder and soothing.

“Why do these things keep happening?” I begged.

“I do not know, Maggie,” McGonagall paused, “Would you like to take your mind off of it?”

“I think so,” I nodded.

“Let’s work on _Suchomimus_ ,” McGonagall urged. I nodded, smiling slightly, pulling out my books and drawing diagrams of _Suchomimus_ anatomy and known skeletal remains. I sketched out the skeleton and drew on my notes, writing arrows and quickly annotating the entire skeletal drawing. The work relaxed me and pulled me out of my own head, allowing me to breathe and relax for the first time since yesterday. I was so exhausted that I couldn’t continue for very long, but it helped me to breathe and compose myself before going to class.

“How are you?” Neville asked as I joined him in Herbology. I had skipped Spellweaving, but then again, I had been with McGonagall, so there really hadn’t _been_ Spellweaving that day, I supposed.

“I’m okay,” I whispered, “I spent time working with McGonagall.”

“That’s good,” Neville nodded, “I worked on my research. I’m making progress.”

“Really?” I whispered in shock.

“Yeah. I pulled one of your developmental biology books and I read it through. It really explained some stuff for me and now I think I have a better idea of the genes I’m specifically looking for. See, there are a _lot_ of genes that are different for wixen than they are for muggles – but not all the time. The ones that are different all the time would be the ones I care about – and a lot of those are probably not even important. But the ones that are really important would be involved in regulating genes involved in magic use, so I need to pinpoint those,” Neville paused, “I’m doing experiments where I try to figure out which genes are involved in _using_ magic with arithmancy and cultures of my own cells.”

“Woah, really? How can you do that?” I asked in surprise.

“Well, not really cultures, per say,” Neville looked nervous, “I’m going to use magic in our room and have arithmancy going to watch different gene expression and the cellular processes happening, as well as use a spell Herbologists use to watch that kind of thing in plants – though they obviously don’t use the right words – to figure out what a plant is exactly doing.”

“Is it safe to use on people?” I asked nervously.

“I’m not sure,” Neville paused, “I’d be the first person to do it.”

“Nev,” I whispered.

“I’ll be fine,” he reassured softly as Professor Abbot came out to the front. She was not a very strong professor – she stammered, she didn’t know all of the material, and Neville ended up teaching most of the class anyway. So I didn’t pay attention anymore.

“I miss Sprout,” I murmured.

Neville looked at me sadly, tears coming to his eyes.

“Did you know, Mags,” he murmured softly as Professor Abbot talked about something that we had learned about last year, “That after you, she was the second person I came out to.”

“I did not know that,” I whispered.

“Yeah. She was so supportive,” Neville took in a deep, shaking breath, “She hugged me and said she was proud of me and that no matter what the world did about it, the plants certainly weren’t going to care.”

I laughed weakly, trying to keep it to myself while we were in class.

Neville stared out ahead, looking desperately sad, “How many more people, Maggie?”

“I don’t know,” I whispered.

“We should run with the people we love, get out of here, and be free,” Neville stated calmly.

“I think so,” I muttered, “But we have to help.”

“I know,” Neville sighed.

“I love you Neville,” I whispered weakly. He turned to me and held me tightly around the shoulder, squeezing me lovingly.

“I love you, Maggie,” he responded calmly.

“I have… something to talk about after classes today,” I whispered.

“Alright,” Neville nodded.

“You’re not going to like it,” I groaned.

“I don’t like much of anything these days.”

I sighed, nodding, as the class finished up on the boring note it began on. We headed off to Care of Magical Creatures together, though everything was usually such a blur, this day only standing out because of what had happened the night before.

“Gath… Gather… ‘round,” Hagrid called, looking downtrodden, his dark face and curly black beard covered in tears. I looked over at Dean who looked back at me sadly, clasping me hard on the shoulder.

“Professor, if you want us to leave, we can,” Neville whispered.

“I… might be for th’ best,” Hagrid nodded, blowing hard into a handkerchief.

“Here, I can talk to you,” Dean offered, walking up to him, “I know Maggie and Neville aren’t really able to right now.”

“Tha’s very kind o’ you, Dean,” Hagrid sighed, the two of them heading back into his Hut together. I turned to Neville, pulling him with me out onto the Grounds and into a sitting position.

“What’s up?” he asked softly.

“Ginny got a letter today,” I whispered, “And… well she’s doing better but…”

“What?” Neville sighed, reaching for me and tucking my hair behind my ear.

“It was from George. I’ll let her read it to you, but… it was… certainly something,” I sighed.

“Let me guess – he didn’t do it, he should be forgiven, it’s not his fault Fred’s dead?” Neville growled.

“No, actually,” I paused, “The opposite.”

“Oh,” Neville’s eyes widened.

“Again, I’ll let Ginny read it to you,” I paused, “But… he wants Ginny and Ron and the rest to let him back into the family. Not to forgive him, not to let him talk or see me at all, but just, for him to be able to have a family.”

“Oh,” Neville sighed, “I’m… not sure how comfortable I am with that.”

“Neither am I,” I paused, “I definitely can’t handle running into him again.”

“Well I’ll listen to this letter and think about it more,” Neville paused, “But I’m really not comfortable with the idea of him being back in our friend’s lives, even if he wouldn’t be back in ours.”

“I understand that, and to an extent, neither am I,” I paused, “But… I’m also not comfortable… damning him to a life without his family, not when these things keep happening…”

“I understand that, and to an extent, neither am I,” Neville agreed, sighing, “Let’s go inside.”

“I don’t want to bother Ginny with it today,” I paused, “We’ll all meet up tomorrow and discuss it.”

“That seems fair,” Neville agreed softly.

So the next day we all met up in the Room of Requirement, Ginny having spent most of her time away from everyone in there the day before.

“How am I supposed to help her when she won’t let me talk to her?” Nadia whispered softly as we walked to the room together, looking absolutely distraught, “Every time I tried she just… pushed me away.”

“I’m not sure how,” I agreed, “You should tell her you feel this way, though.”

“I just… she’s so distant and… so many bad things have happened to her,” Nadia sniffled, looking horrified, “So fast. So fast, Maggie. I just… I just… I don’t know how to help with this.”

I frowned at her, looking at her sadly.

“How do I do this? How do I help this person I love just – deal – with all of this?” Nadia let out a shaking breath, “I don’t know how.”

“I don’t know how either. I think Neville would be a better analogue to talk to,” I shrugged.

“Thanks,” Nadia nodded, looking down at the ground pensively.

Reaching the room, he was already there, and Ginny was not – presumably she was with someone else helping to take care of her.

“Neville?” Nadia asked softly.

“Yeah?” he looked up from his research, frowning at her.

“How… did you help Maggie… when she was at her worst?” Nadia begged.

“Pure and utter selflessness,” Neville said softly, “I gave up everything for that month when she was on drugs and I did it again after she tried to kill herself.”

“Oh,” Nadia whispered.

“I made sure to be whatever she needed me to be. I was there for her. I helped her. I kept her alive,” Neville looked over at me with a haunted expression, “And I’ll do it again and again as much as she needs.”

“What if… she hadn’t let you? What if… she kept pushing you away?” Nadia asked as the door opened, before Neville could answer. Hermione entered, smiling at us all weakly, sitting down at the table and sighing.

“I’ve started a new project,” she murmured.

“Oh great,” I sighed, “What is it now?”

“It’s a good one,” Hermione paused, “I need something to do…”

“Alright, what’s the project?” Nadia asked, still looking somewhat distraught.

“I’m going to write a book,” Hermione declared.

“Finally,” Neville joked, making me smile at him.

“On our society. On everything that’s so fucked up,” Hermione paused, looking at all of us with a weak smile, “And I’m going to dedicate it to Fred.”

“I’m sure he really appreciates that,” I nodded, “Up there.”

“Yeah,” Hermione smiled weakly, “I miss him. I loved him, I really did – I should have been there for him. I don’t know how I could have been, but… I should have. And I’ll do something to honor him now, since I fucked up with that.”

“It’s not your fault, Hermione,” Neville murmured.

“I know,” Hermione sniffled, looking at us all sadly, “But it feels like it.”

“Same,” I agreed softly.

“Just gotta keep on living. He would want that,” Neville urged.

“He would,” Ginny answered, walking into the room. Ron and Harry followed her, Harry walking over to Hermione and giving her a kiss almost immediately. Ginny kissed Nadia, but I watched the exchange with worry. Was Ginny doing this out of habit, or was I just seeing things because Nadia was being paranoid?

“Hello everyone,” Ginny paused, sighing, “I’ve received two letters from my… living family members. And I thought we should all discuss them.”

“Okay,” Neville nodded.

“The first – not – bad,” Ginny muttered, “It’s from Bill. He’s marrying Adie. Says life is too short, this war too cruel, and he doesn’t want to beat around the bush. He’s not making a big affair of it, either.”

“Good for him,” Harry murmured.

“The second… is from George,” Ginny sighed, “I’ll read it aloud.”

I listened to the letter again, Neville’s grip on my shoulders and body tightening with each word. I nestled deeply into his chest, sighing against it, trying to not think about the conflict this gave me. I didn’t know how to feel about George sending the letter – was I angry, because he had no right to burden me any longer? Was I upset, because I could never really get away from him? Was I sad, because the amount of pain he was suffering probably was _not_ justified by what happened? Was I distraught, because it _was_?

I held to Neville and kept Blue in my lap. She chirped next to me and I scratched behind her crest. It was so hard to think clearly about this that I just had to focus on her and her warm fluff.

Ginny finally finished saying the letter aloud again, looking around at the room nervously.

“It’s up to Maggie,” Harry said after a long while, “I certainly won’t be talking to him.”

“Nor I,” Hermione agreed firmly.

“I…” Neville sighed. I looked up at him, frowning at him and reaching for his cheek.

“I can’t promise I won’t try to kill him, if he were to come back into our lives,” Neville whispered.

“I won’t let him approach any of us, or talk to any of you,” Ginny interjected, looking determined and earnest.  

“Nor will I,” Ron agreed.

“That’s good,” I whispered, “Because I really cannot handle that whatsoever.”

“But what about them talking to him? What do you think about that?” Harry asked softly.

“I don’t know,” I sighed, “Ginny told me this yesterday morning and I’ve been having a lot of trouble trying to figure out what I’m okay with or what I even want. I wish…”

“What?” Neville whispered, “What do you wish, Mags?”

“I wish he was actually still being a terrible person so this would be an easy choice,” I muttered.

“Yeah,” Nadia sighed.

“It would be easier,” Ginny frowned, “But he _is_ trying.”

“Yeah,” I cried a little, holding my face in my hands, “I just… I don’t want to deprive you of a family member. I don’t want you to have to completely cut him out of your lives on my account. I don’t… I don’t want to be responsible for breaking up a family. But I can’t… deal with him yet.”

“Would time help?” Hermione offered softly, “Would more time separated from this and not thinking about it make it easier to deal with down the road?”

“More time would also allow him to keep doing the things he’s been doing and prove that he’s really trying to change even more,” Harry agreed.

“I think so,” I whispered, looking at Neville, “What do you think?”

“I think more time is probably good,” he looked strained, “But I don’t know if I would ever feel comfortable with it.”

“I don’t know if I’d be _comfortable_ with it,” I paused, “That’s not… the right word.”

“Then what is?” Ginny asked softly.

“I… there would be a point at which I’d be more uncomfortable keeping him from his family when he has already lost so much of it without getting to say goodbye, than from having him talking to you guys in a way that does not affect me nor would I have to interact with him” I explained.

“Ah, so at some point it’ll be more uncomfortable to keep him away,” Ron murmured.

“Yeah,” I nodded, “Does that make sense, Nev?”

“It does,” he agreed, “And I know I can reach that point, yeah. Too much pain has happened already. He doesn’t deserve to have any more of his family members die before he can say goodbye… I do agree with that… however reluctantly.”

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

“No, don’t be,” Neville paused, “This is more painful for you than for me.”

“Yeah, but… I dunno. I think a protective instinct aspect to the matter is not something to ignore,” I sighed.

“I’ll be fine,” Neville whispered, “This is about _you_.”

“I will write to him and tell him that I need more time,” Ginny paused, “Not a lot more, but some. Is that okay? I won’t mention any of you at all.”

“That’s fine with me,” I agreed.

“I’m sorry he did this, again,” Ginny sighed, “Though I can’t blame him, after Fred.”

“How are you doing, Gin?” Nadia asked, reaching out for her and tucking her hair behind her ear. Ginny shrugged, looking down at her lap.

“Everything’s swimming. I don’t know how to process much,” she sighed deeply, looking up and around at all of us, “I still can’t believe he’s gone.”

“Neither can I,” Hermione agreed.

“He’s in a better place, Ginny, I promise,” Neville whispered.

“I know,” Ginny paused, “I just… I just wish I could have told him… so many things.”

“So do I,” I mumbled, “I tried to, when we were on the run.”

“He knows them now,” Hermione nodded.

Ginny sighed heavily, looking down at the letter in her lap and crying some again. Ave was still with her, resting next to her and chirping softly.

“I think… I think I need to just… rest,” she sighed, “I’ll be okay. I’m not… I’m fine, mentally. I promise.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” Nadia asked.

“No, Nadia, I’m fine. Thank you though,” Ginny nodded, before leaving the room. Nadia soon left after, smiling at us all sadly as she left, Ron following behind her.

“When will all this stop?” Harry asked quietly.

“Eventually, mate,” Neville paused, “Eventually.”

“I just… I don’t know,” Harry held his face in his hands, “I need to not think about all this shite for a bit.”

“Sounds good,” Hermione agreed.

“What do you want to do?” I asked softly.

“Let’s play a game,” Harry smiled weakly, “Like, let’s just. Play a board game together.”

“We could play monopoly,” I laughed.

“Monopoly?” Neville asked in confusion.

“A muggle game,” Hermione explained, “It’s not hard, and I’m sure the room could get it.”

“Yeah,” Harry nodded, “I’d like that.”

“Wait, Harry,” Hermione frowned, looking at him, “Don’t you have a Dumbledore meeting today?”

“Er, yeah,” Harry sighed, “But… I’m still trying to get that memory from Slughorn, and I just… I don’t have it and I haven’t had the ability to try and get it, obviously, since all of these things happened.”

“Understandable, mate,” Neville agreed.

“Like, how does Dumbledore expect me to just… play into his schemes or what have you while all this is happening? The rebellion, my new lovely chronic condition, people dying, the war, I just… I get that I need to do this to defeat Voldemort but honestly other things just feel more important right now,” Harry sighed.

“You’re right,” I agreed, “You need to take care of yourself, for one.”

“Exactly,” Harry nodded.

“And also you just, well, you need to do things where you feel like you’re making a real difference. Not just wandering along this strange path that you don’t understand from Dumbledore,” Hermione murmured.

“One day I will. I hope,” Harry sighed.

“Let’s play monopoly, I want to see what this is,” Neville grinned, “And mate, you’ll find out some day, and honestly that’ll probably be more disappointing because you’ll find out something _else_ Dumbles is keeping form you that you should have known since you were a kid.”

“Thanks for that,” Harry sighed.

“Any time,” Neville chuckled.

We all sat down together to play monopoly, and I was absolutely terrible at it – frankly, all four of us were, none of us having played the game much in our lives (or at all, in Neville’s case). We kept buying too many things and going bankrupt and laughing hysterically, Harry cackling like a madman whenever we landed on one of his properties with houses on it, or Neville doing a dance and declaring victory even when he hadn’t technically won.

“BUT I GOT ALL THE RAILROADS?!” he shouted in protest.

“Nev, that’s not the point of the game –“ I laughed.

“Fuck this stupid game it goes on forever then!” Neville groaned.

“It’s a board game!” Hermione giggled.

“What the hell,” Neville sighed, sitting back down, “Muggles do this for _fun_?”

“Muggles do lots of weird and crazy things for fun, mate,” Harry laughed.

“Fine, well, I’m still going to win,” Neville declared.

Granted, he was then the first to completely run out of money when we were so close to the end that we didn’t have a against-the-rules bailout, making him grumpy for the rest of the evening. I was the second, quickly trying to help him calm down and cheer up, but him having none of it.

“My honor, Maggie,” he grunted, “My honor has been compromised.”

“Oh my god,” I laughed, giggling uncontrollably.

“Don’t worry Neville, I will win on your behalf to defeat the twins,” Hermione grinned.

“Don’t worry Maggie, I will win on your behalf to defeat the not-twins,” Harry declared.

“VICTORY FOR ADOPTED SIBLINGS!” I shouted, “BRING HONOR TO US ALL!”

“Hermione, if you do not win, we will not be speaking,” Neville declared. I flicked him, and he stuck his tongue out at me in annoyance, making me giggle. We watched the game with true intensity, looking at the dwindling money piles in fear, until, finally, Harry rose victories.

“VICTORY!” he shouted, “VICTORY FOR ME AND MAGGIE!”

“Oh come on!” Hermione cried, looking at her things in distress, “I PLOTTED THIS SO CAREFULLY!”

“VICTORY!”

“HERMIONE YOU HAD _ONE JOB!_ ”

“I’m SORRY Neville!”

“I CANNOT BELIEVE THIS YOU’RE THE ONLY MUGGLE BORN HERE –“

“I DIDN’T PLAY A LOT OF MONOPOLY GROWING UP OKAY?”

“VICTORY! SWEET, DELICIOUS VICTORY!”

“HARRY YOU HAVE DONE A GLORIOUS THING FOR OUR FAMILY –“

“YOU HAD _ONE JOB, HERMIONE!_ ”

“I HATE THIS GAME!”

We all fell back, laughing with each other and forming a cuddle pile, Neville kissing me in apology and Harry hugging Hermione in a similar emotion.

“And we all agreed to never play Monopoly again,” I laughed. They laughed with me, Hermione giggling uncontrollably for a long time.

“Seriously, whose idea was that? They need a good smack in the head,” Neville chortled.

“You’re the one who was really eager to play it!” I teased.

“Yeah, Neville, I think you ignored how apprehensive the rest of us were,” Harry chortled.

“What, I wanted to see what muggle games were like!” Neville protested.

“So learn about it in a documentary, don’t just play a game that leads to pain and suffering amongst people who love each other!” Hermione snorted.

“Is there even a documentary about board games?” Neville raised an eyebrow.

“There’s a documentary about everything these days, I’m telling you,” I giggled.

“Do you want a documentary about rare types of bogeys? Watch BBC One hundred and fifty-seven point five!” Harry joked.

“There are _not_ that many BBC channels –“

“Feels like it!”

“Imagine if wixen got into TV – so many channels –“

“All displaying proud Ministry propaganda!”

“Oh man, imagine the Daily Prophet in News Program form –“

“Here is thinly veiled racism, now in Technicolor for your home consumption!”

“Don’t forget to order a side of sexism and blood prejudice!”

“Turn it at nine for reminders that without the Ministry we wouldn’t have order whatsoever even though they’re the reason the Rebellion has to exist!”

“Oh man,” Harry sighed, “I just – oh man. They’re such dicks.”

“All of them,” Neville agreed, “Even the people with vaginas.”

“Well, they won’t last forever,” Hermione sighed, “One way or another, this will all end eventually. And not long from now either. There’s too much happening, too much pain, and too many people unsatisfied.”

“Yeah,” I nodded softly, hugging her. We all fell silent together on that thought, musing over how long our crumbling society really had left.

“I love you guys,” she murmured softly, holding onto all of us tightly.

“We love you too, Hermione,” I whispered. They were my family – and I knew I could get through it with them by my side. I held onto all of them tightly, pulling them in and enjoying the feeling of all of us together, the comfort of our arms reminding me that no matter what, I had them, and we weren’t going to leave each other any time soon.

“We’re in this together,” Neville agreed.

“That’s what our family is,” Harry agreed. And I knew they were all right.

I had gotten through all of it up until that point, and it certainly wouldn’t change in the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this was a light chapter, and kind of filler-y, but I figured that was not only wanted, but necessary after the last chapter. Thank you all for trusting my plan as the author - it will be a long game, but the events of the past few chapters are more important than I can even explain without spoilers. Thank you all for your comments; please comment again, as I really do need them to write. Even a "thank you for updating" helps me so much, you have no idea.


	122. Chapter One Hundred and Twenty: January 18 - 25, 1997, Hogwarts and London

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "All fired up, you’re a hot mess getting messier  
> I’d do anything for sleep  
> But I can think of far better ways to waste your energy  
> If you can bare to still touch me  
> One by one skin hardens, we’re becoming the beast  
> Shear power in the heat of hate brings our army of two to its knees  
> Steel lungs are screaming the house down, going for the kill from the kiss  
> Battle stations are now navigation, have we driven love to this? 
> 
> Have we left, have we left the building?  
> Did we die a little death?  
> Is this the end of the road for us, no more bridges for us to burn left?  
> Do we finally find ourselves at the point of no return?"  
> ~ Imogen Heap, "The Beast"

Chapter 120: January 17 – January 25, 1997, Hogwarts and London

“I think we should probably have rallies again,” Hermione sighed. I looked at her sternly, my eyes narrowing in annoyance.

“Hermione, people have died.”

“I know, but we need to go back to the rebellion – they just suffered a major blow in having the Ministry not listen to their peaceful protest, they need us right now.”

“What _we_ need right now is to recover,” I reminded angrily, “Ginny is still not doing okay – she’s definitely on the verge of some sort of nervous breakdown, we all need to be there for her. And everyone is still downtrodden and feeling _lost_ after what happened. Never mind the fact that the whole George question is looming over all of our heads like some sort of sword of Damocles –“

“I know, look, I don’t _like_ it,” Hermione sighed, “But we have a responsibility. It’s like having a damn kid, you wouldn’t abandon your child because of what happened, would you?”

“They’re adults,” I insisted, “They don’t _need_ us to take care of them.”

“I think you underestimate how much we’re leaders for them,” Hermione frowned.

“I – argh,” I groaned, holding my face in my hands. I was too tired for this and I wanted the month of January to just be _over._ It was too terrible and it was time for it to just _end_ already.

“I’m going to schedule some rallies for next weekend. I understand, Mags, and I’m not going to make anyone go who doesn’t want to, but we can’t just _stop_ because of what happened. Fred wouldn’t have wanted that, I just know it,” Hermione sighed.

“Yeah, alright,” I muttered in annoyance, turning back to my transfiguration work. Everyone else was working on complex transfigurations that I had learned in my fourth year; I was just supposed to keep studying and building up a _Suchomimus_ musculature from the skeletal elements we knew. It wasn’t a great skeleton and wasn’t even fully described yet, so it was hard to do. I probably should have picked an easier dinosaur.

“Why didn’t I just do _Baryonyx_ ,” I muttered in annoyance.

“Because you needed a challenge,” Neville murmured, “The rexes and the raptors were too easy. We have lots of skeletons of those.”

“Thank you for your wisdom,” I snorted, “How are your things going?”

“Right now I’m trying to actually do transfiguration, thanks,” Neville rolled his eyes, “I’m trying to, ironically, conjure some damn birds here.”

“Ironically,” I laughed.

“They disappear fairly rapidly, this is different from your stuff,” Hermione reminded.

“Yes, Hermione, I know. I am literally the _only person_ who does better than you in this subject,” I reminded, sticking my tongue out at her.

“Come on, Hermione, leave Neville alone,” Harry teased, still working on making birds appear himself.

“That’s great life advice,” Neville agreed grimly, “Just let me be to fail in transfiguration on my own. I don’t understand anything McGonagall talks about anymore in this class.”

“Longbottom!” McGonagall shouted from the front of the room. We all looked up, even though McGonagall only addressed him, me smirking at her weakly from my spot.

“Would you please _pipe down_ and work on your canaries? As Johnson if you have questions, we’ve been through this routine quite enough, thank you,” McGonagall snapped.

“Yes Professor,” Neville rolled his eyes.

“Do not sass me –“

“It’s been a long month.”

McGonagall sighed, but didn’t press the issue, as we all returned to work on our transfigurations. When class finally ended, she swept over to me as I packed up my things.

“Yeah?” I asked, looking up at her and frowning.

“Could you _please_ feed your tyrannosaurs? I’ve been covering for you since Fred’s death, but the fourth years had an exam this morning and I have a lot of marking to do –“

“Yeah, okay,” I sighed, “Sorry, Professor.”

“It’s quite alright,” she frowned, “But you really should.”

“I will. Thanks,” I nodded, “I have a break between now and Care of Magical Creatures.”

“Are we even going to have that class?” Neville asked seriously.

“Er… probably?” I frowned, “You should go work on your research. I’ll be fine, I feed them all the time.”

“Alright,” he kissed me softly on the head, holding me tightly, “Be safe.”

“I will,” I promised. I walked out to the grounds, the wind still cold and nippy around my ears as snow lightly fell. The rexes were sitting out near the Forest, and I was extremely glad that Herin was off fighting in the North with the others; she would not get along with the two of them whatsoever. They were both extra feathery in the cold, their usual feathers as poofy and thick and possible, and also growing a light coat of down over their tails – I could only wonder if this was a natural adaptation or something magical about them as a byproduct of the transfiguration. I was sure they would loose the extra floof when the warm weather returned.

“Hi guys,” I greeted to the sleeping pair, their heads together and their bodies rising up slowly and falling back gently with each of their breaths. The wind puffed and ruffled their feathers a little, one of the rexes waking up at my greeting and watching me calmly.

I couldn’t _not_ be afraid of them – their heads, as big as my body; their teeth so long you couldn’t help but morbidly think about what it would be like to have them digging into your flesh. I watched her carefully, waiting for her to let me know it was okay to approach – Alpha watched me with her eyes, never breaking eye contact. I felt my heart lodge in my throat – I couldn’t help it, it was some sort of instinctual reaction left over from when I was some weird tiny mammal running about in the Cretaceous.

I swallowed and kept watching her, keeping a respectful distance in front of her, before she closed her eyes and relaxed. I breathed a sigh of relief before coming closer to her, reaching to pat her snout. She let out a small sound, much like a chirp – unlike the raptors, the rexes were almost exactly the right suite of traits as their original animals, only the brain a slight bit bigger and more like a bird’s than it should have. The sounds she made, though, were exactly what would have been possible for the vocal chords of a rex – there were no lion roars. Only strange combinations of bird sounds and crocodile sounds – angry loud caws mixed with hisses when it was “roar”- ing, and mostly chirps and hisses and caws normally.

Except a chirp for such a large animal was more like a strange, low pitched, haunting ballad from hell.

The low pitched, strange almost coo sound let me know I would be able to get food. I grabbed the small chunks of meat I had in my bag, waving my wand over them to enlarge them into larger pieces of meat, much more filling for the rexes. I didn’t know why the laws of transfiguration said I could make more food from food already there, but not food from thin air – but there you go. Alpha let out a small caw before grabbing it, me jumping back in fright at the sight of the maw opening and those teeth becoming visible. Usually covered by lips like a monitor lizard’s, it was easy to pretend they weren’t there, until Alpha opened her maw and took the flesh into it. She swallowed it whole, unable to chew, and stood up. She walked around me, her face coming close to me, my heart pounding in my ears again. She sniffed me, curiously, before putting her snout near me again. I reached up and patted her, trying to relax – knowing that if I didn’t relax, she wouldn’t be able to either.

Omega started to stir; Alpha started to walk around the grounds, investigating various patches of grass and trees as Omega looked at me steadily. I knew he was trying to gage whether or not to eat me; I quickly made eye contact with him, hoping to remind him of who I was and to keep him focused on the fact that I would bring food, food that certainly wasn’t _me_. Omega watched me for a long time, longer than Alpha had; eventually he closed his eyes and I reached out to pat him on the snout. Omega made small happy sounds in his maw when this happened; the low, guttural chirps that made me feel more relaxed as he did them. I even scratched the tip of his snout, making him huff in what I assumed was happiness, as he would sometimes try to get me to scratch again.

I pulled out more meat to enlarge and threw it to him, him swallowing it whole and looking right pleased with himself. I wandered between the two rexes, reaching up to pat Omega on the leg. He huffed somewhat but ignored me as I moved between the two of them, wandering to Alpha and watching as she moved about the field. Her legs and feet moved like a bird’s – I supposed that wasn’t much of a surprise – each motion delicate and calculated as she examined the Grounds. I wanted to climb up on top of her, but I wasn’t exactly sure how I would manage that.

I felt a snout poke into my back and I squeaked, trying to not feel afraid – but it was just Omega, sniffing me. I turned around slowly and patted him on the snout, him huffing until I finally scratched his nose again. I then wrapped my arms around his snout a little, hugging him – not sure, exactly, how it would go over, but Omega seemed to be curious today. Omega chirped again and I let go, wandering to his legs to check for their cleanliness. All their extra poof was not something they were used to, and if I needed to help in cleaning I needed to keep track of their dirt levels.

“Why are we doing this out here?”

I frowned, turning towards the sound – it sounded like Nadia, and I didn’t know why she would be out here. I was clearly hidden from view by the two large dinosaurs and I kept it that way, not wanting to disturb Nadia or whoever she was talking to. Alpha started to walk away from the sound, investigating the grounds more, and I ran to follow her. I kept close to her legs, still listening – there was no one else out on the grounds – but trying to not make my presence evident.

“Because people could come into the Room of Requirement and I don’t – I don’t want to do this there.”

Ginny? What were Ginny and Nadia talking about?

“Please, Ginny –“

“Nadia, look, I just…”

“Ginny, I’ve been trying to help you, but how can I do that if you keep pushing me away?”

“I don’t need your help.”

“That’s what – then what do you need from me? Please, just, tell me.”

“I need you to let me be me, Nadia.”

“Ginny, it’s one thing for you to be a part of the rebellion and helping and doing all you can – I am too – but you and I have barely had a moment together in months.”

“You’re exaggerating –“

“You need to take time for yourself, you do, especially after everything that’s happened –“

“I have been.”

“Just not with me.”

I looked over at Alpha, feeling supremely uncomfortable. This was not a conversation I wanted to be hearing whatsoever.

“Nadia, I love you, but you’re – you smother me and then you leave me alone when I need you the most –“

“You _wanted me_ to leave you alone! I asked what you needed from me and you said nothing!”

“I needed you to just – stay with me!”

“What kind of communication is that? How am I supposed to just psychically know what you want?”

“I don’t know! I don’t know what I want!”

I was so uncomfortable I wanted to melt into the ground. I quickly tried to get Alpha to let me climb onto her back – seemed to be the best method of escape from this particular moment. Alpha, however, was having none of it, turning and snapping at me the more I gripped her. I groaned and stepped back, not wanting to antagonize her needlessly.

“How am I supposed to be with you when you’re acting like this? One moment you’re depressed and not talking to anyone – the next you’re like this, you’re furious, you’re headstrong –“

“I’m bipolar you nitwit!”

“Ginny!”

“What, I am! You know I am! You’ve always known I am!

“Yes but usually it’s cycling between _happy_ and _sad_ , not _angry_ and _sad_.”

“Well my brother just killed himself, my other brother is a terrible person but I don’t know what to do because he could die any day, my mum is completely gone, my dad is dead, my other brother is estranged, my two other brothers are in the very dangerous Order, and my final brother is here with me doing dangerous Rebellion things, and any of us could die or get destroyed at any time! OF COURSE I’M MAD AND SAD!”

“Let me help you deal with it!”

“I don’t know what you could do that wouldn’t just make me more frustrated!”

“What’s _that_ supposed to mean?”

“When you try to comfort me, I get annoyed that you’re molly coddling me. When you leave me alone, I feel neglected. When you talk to me, it doesn’t help –“

“So am I just supposed to – what? What am I supposed to do, Ginny?”

“I don’t know!”

There was a long pause. I cringed and just hid behind Omega, who had resumed sitting down and was happily napping again in the snow.

“How are we supposed to be together when you’re acting like this?”

“I don’t know.”

“Please… please, stop pushing me away, Ginny…”

“I can’t –“

“Please, Gin. I love you.”

“I love you, but, I can’t stop this. Not now. I don’t know what I’m going through, but, I don’t think – I don’t think I can just stop it to make you more comfortable with me… not for a while…”

“I can’t be with you like this, Ginny – I can’t handle it – you’re taking me down with you and I can’t…”

“Go, then.”

“Ginny, I don’t –“

“This won’t end any time soon, and you can’t handle it. So the choice is clear.”

“But – I –“

“We’re done, Nadia. This is clear. We’re done.”

“But… I love you…”

“I love you, but that’s not enough here. I’ve been through too much. This is better for both of us.”

“Ginny…”

“Please, _please_ don’t make this any harder than it has to be.”

My eyes were wide and I forced myself to hide in the snow next to Omega, basically burying myself in it out of horror and shock.

“Please don’t do this –“

“You haven’t given me much of a choice, have you?”

“Ginny –“

“Nadia, stop. It’s over. We had a good run.”

“I…”

“I hope we can still be friends, for the group’s sake.”

“I… think so. Not right away, though.”

Nadia sounded utterly broken. My eyes were wide under the snow which made snow fall into them which hurt but I was having trouble completely controlling my biological reactions at the moment.

“That’s… all I ask. I’m sorry, Nadia.”

“I’m sorry too.”

There was a long pause; I cringed and begged for this horrific moment that I was privy to to be over already I couldn’t keep listening to this oh my god –

“I’m going to go,” Nadia sighed, “I need… to be by… I just need to go.” There was the sound of crunching snow, and I kept hidden, groaning softly to myself. I waited around for a while, hoping that Ginny would disappear, before removing myself from it to continue with my examination of the rexes for grooming purposes. I moved around to be behind Alpha as she settled into the snow, relaxing as she did, looking at her downy tail feathers and gently waving my wand over them.

“Maggie?”

_Oh fuck_

“Er – hello, Ginny,” I called, waving awkwardly.

“How long have you been out here?” she asked, walking up to me with raised eyebrows.

“Er… a while,” I admitted, grimacing.

“Oh fuck,” Ginny groaned, holding her face in her hands – she looked like she had been crying, again, “I didn’t want you to see that –“

“I didn’t particularly want to, either, if that’s any sort of consolation –“ I sighed.

“I just… that was really hard to do,” Ginny muttered, sitting in the snow next to me and staring off into the distance, “I really, _really_ didn’t want to.”

“Then why did you?” I asked seriously, “You guys really love… loved? Each other…”

“I do,” Ginny mumbled softly, “I just… my brain is so… everything is so confusing and chaotic right now. And everything she did to try and help me just… made it worse. I couldn’t really deal with it. I just… need time to myself to figure out how I’m going to deal with what happened.”

“I understand that,” I sighed, “Obviously. I went through something ridiculously similar after… the end of fourth year.”

“Exactly,” Ginny nodded, “I’m hoping to not… completely reject all my relationships, run away, and get hooked on drugs, but… I couldn’t avoid that one. My brain just… I just couldn’t… anymore.”

“Alright Gin,” I patted her on the shoulder, “Alright.”

“I…” Ginny sniffled hard, “I loved her. I really really loved her. She was the first person I ever loved besides Harry, who probably shouldn’t count…”

“I’m sorry Ginny,” I murmured, “I’m sure you’ll love again, and they’ll also be a worthy candidate.”

Ginny nodded sniffling even more, “I just feel like… I dunno. Nadia was wonderful. I feel like… if we were both older, we could have lasted longer. If what happened hadn’t happened… and we were more mature… it could have been the long haul.”

“Well, life is filled with what ifs,” I reminded, “And sometimes… I dunno, Ginny. I hate to say everything happens for a reason, because it doesn’t. Sometimes things happen because the world is terrible. But… I think if this is what you need right now, then it’s necessary for you to do it, and the consequences will be dealt with later.”

“Thanks Mags,” Ginny smiled slightly, “I’m just so stressed. With everything. I need… I don’t know. I need a break from everything. From the war. The rebellion. Just… everything.”

“Alright,” I frowned, sitting up, “What do you want?”

“Just a _break_ ,” Ginny nodded.

“I have Care of Magical Creatures soon, but after that we can do something together? Go to Hogsmeade or something?” I offered. Ginny nodded, looking a little cheered by that.

“Great,” I paused, “I’m going to go to class. Please take care of yourself, Ginny,” I sighed. She nodded again as I got up and walked towards Hagrid’s, sighing and frowning to myself. I reached the Hut and waited around for the others to arrive, Hagrid prepping the lesson on feeding and caring for Thestrals.

“So, Maggie, how are the rexes doin?” Hagrid asked cheerfully.

“Pretty good, actually. They’ve adapted well to the cold,” I smiled.

“Tha’s good. I know tha’ some tropical creatures def’netly don’ wan’ anythin’ to do w’ our weather,” Hagrid chuckled, “Had to have some o’ the other professors make them enclosures and everythin’ –“

I looked up to see Neville walking down to the Hut, but he looked oddly flushed – weirdly flushed, in fact. I frowned at him as he joined us, smiling down at me and kissing me.

“Are you… fuschia colored?” I asked seriously.

“What? No!” Neville protested.

“You look… _purple_ ,” I pointed out, gesturing to his face, “But… a weird, pinkish purple.”

“No no no, you’re mistaken,” Neville shook his head.

“I am not – Hagrid, do you see what I’m seeing?” I demanded, turning to Hagrid.

“Yah do look a lit’le pink there, Neville,” Hagrid nodded.

“I – you are all imagining this!” Neville shouted.

“Oh come off it, just say what’s up!” I glared at him.

“What even is fuschia? Is that even a real color –“

“ _Neville._ ”

“Alright, alright,” Neville sighed, holding his face in his hands, “Alright. So you know I was using a spell that we use on plants to track gene expression and cellular function in myself to look at magical gene expression?”

“Yes?” I frowned, glaring at him slightly.

“Well… er… turns out it does that by kind of dying the plants the opposite color of the color spectrum they are – meaning, part of the spell involves dying the plants fuschia in a way, since that’s about opposite on the color wheel from green. Er… it’s specific for plants so it dyed me fuschia too. And well… er… I mean I could see the gene localizations and I think I got the data I need for my arithmancy calculations but… er… I’ll be fuschia until I go to Pomfrey’s tonight and have her help me reverse the spell,” Neville admitted sheepishly.

“ _Neville!_ ” I shouted, but it was too funny for me to be mad. I burst into laughter, leaning on my knees in mirth as it shook my body like it hadn’t since before Fred and Mrs. Weasley. Neville stuck his tongue out at me, and his tongue was bright pink, so I laughed even harder. I fell to the ground and clutched my side, chortling at the top of my lungs.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Neville groaned.

“Oh my _god_ , Nev!”

“We all make mistakes!”

“This is bloody fantastic!”

 “Oh shove off!”

Hagrid was chuckling too, and as the other members of the class walked down they all started laughing at Neville’s appearance. He groaned and held his face in his hands, shaking it back and forth.

“How was feeding the rexes?” he asked when I had composed myself, standing up and brushing the snow off of my robes.

“Oh fine,” I paused, remembering what happened, “But er – well – there’s been a development.”

“Oh?” Neville asked, looking at me critically, “Still have all your limbs, so it can’t be that –“

“No, the rexes were seriously fine,” I nodded, “Uh… since no one ever goes near them, well, it’s kind of a secluded spot…”

“Yeah?” Neville frowned.

“Er… I witnessed Ginny and Nadia breaking up,” I sighed.

Neville’s eyes widened and his mouth dropped open rapidly, “Bloody hell!”

“Yeah,” I sighed, “Ginny’s really… freaking out. She’s all over the place and she basically pushed Nadia away… it was not fun to witness.”

“Oh Merlin,” Neville groaned, “This is _not_ good.”

“No,” I frowned, “Well if you’re going to be fixing your skin tonight, I think I’ll go out with her if that’s alright? Have a girl’s night and just… I dunno. I want to help her vent and get through this without… doing what I did, two years ago.”

“Yeah,” Neville sighed, “That’s probably a good idea. What will you do?”

“Go to Hogsmeade and drink, probably,” I admitted, “If that’s alright with you.”

“Why wouldn’t it be? I mean, I’d rather come with, I think I could help, but I don’t mind,” Neville shook his head.

“Thanks Nev,” I leaned up and kissed him, “Hopefully when I get homoe you won’t be purple.”

“If it’s an overnight thing, don’t worry about me,” Neville laughed, “Just bring the raptors into the bed to cuddle instead of me.”

“Thanks for that,” I rolled my eyes, before frowning, “Wow. We really have not spent a night apart, besides… injuries and such… for a while.”

“No, we haven’t,” Neville smiled lovingly, “It’s been brilliant.”

I nodded, smiling back at him, “Yeah. Yeah it has.”

“Alrigh’, alrigh’, looks like everyone’s here –“ Hagrid began as Dean walked down. I tried to pay attention as the lesson went on, but I was too distracted by Neville’s skin tone as well as my worry over Ginny.

I waited for her near the front of the Entrance Hall; no one cared about us leaving anymore, it was fairly simple to exit the castle these days. Sam walked by, coming from the Great Hall; he walked over to me, frowning at the fact that I was just waiting by the door.

“What’s going on?” he asked.

“Waiting for Ginny,” I sighed, “She broke up with Nadia today and really needs to let off steam. She’s definitely… spiraling, I think. She’s not handling everything that’s happened very well.”

“Ah,” Sam frowned, “Well, would it help if I came along, or no?”

“I’m not sure, you’ll have to ask her,” I shrugged as she walked down towards us. She smiled at me, but she looked less than happy – her eyes were somewhat lost in appearance, and she had put on more makeup than usual.

“Hey Sam, Mags,” Ginny paused, “Ready, Maggie?”

“Yeah – er – do you want Sam to come or no?” I asked.

“Sure, he can come,” Ginny smiled weakly, “I’d appreciate it.”

“No problem,” Sam nodded, “We’re all mates, of course I want to help.”

We walked down to the village together, Ginny still amazingly silent as we did so.

“So uh… what do you want to do, Gin?” I asked, frowning.

“I would enjoy drinking,” Ginny nodded decisively.

“Er… anything else?” Sam grimaced slightly.

“I would enjoy enjoying myself and forgetting who I am for an evening,” Ginny shrugged. I looked over at Sam in worry and he frowned back at me, us leading Ginny into Hogsmeade and down to the Hog’s Head.

“Er – three butterbeers please,” I asked, as Ginny shouted in protest behind me.

“That’s not enough!”

“Come on, Ginny,” Sam sighed.

“Don’t you all just want to get _pissed_ for once?”

“Not… particularly, no…”

I walked back with the drinks, sipping mine slowly and watching Ginny like a hawk. She downed hers in one gulp and ran back up, demanding another, leaving Sam flabbergasted.

“You… were not kidding,” he frowned.

“I’m really worried right now,” I hissed.

“Come on gents!” Ginny giggled, “Can’t get a good buzz off o’ just that, can you?”

“I just wanted a drink,” Sam shook his head.

“Aren’t you crazy off with Ernie all the time? What’s with the clam and clean cut Sam?” Ginny snorted.

“There’s a bit of a difference between my sexual life and my social life,” Sam frowned.

“The two should combine you wanker,” Ginny laughed, downing the second glass extremely fast. My eyes widened even more as the beverage disappeared into her medium-sized body.

“Come on, Ginny, you want to keep this in check,” I protested, frowning.

“You’re not my mum!” Ginny hiccupped, running up for another one. I watched her angrily as she came back, drinking the third one very quickly again, “My mum is gone, remember?”

“Yeah, so someone really needs to look out for you,” I sighed.

“Who are you to talk? After – after – after what you did two years ago?” Ginny got out in between burps, “You did the same as me!”

“I – was – it wasn’t _good_ , Ginny,” I frowned even more.

“I need more. You two finish faster, you’re not keeping up at _all_ ,” Ginny whined, grabbing more drinks. The barkeep didn’t seem to care in the slightest. I glared at him, but he ignored me; Sam patted me comfortingly on the shoulder.

“Ooh!” Ginny shouted suddenly, looking at us eagerly, “Oooh! I know what we should do!”

“Dare I ask?” Sam frowned.

“We should go to _London!_ ”

“Right,” I snorted, “How?”

“Floo! We can Floo to Diagon Alley and hit the town!” Ginny cheered.

“One, we haven’t any muggle money,” Sam pointed out, “Two, we’re all very underage for muggles, three –“

“Words words words!” Ginny complained, waving her hand, “That sounds like the talk of _quitters!_ We can exchange wixen money for muggle – don’t you have the proceeds from your dad’s apothecary, Maggie?”

“I mean,” I frowned, sighing, “I sold most of the shop to this witch that was Dad’s second in command, basically, Helena Rodgers – I own one share so that we have an income, but…”

“But nothin! You’re _loaded!_ ” Ginny laughed.

“It was a handsome sum, but it has to last me and Elena another year,” I frowned heavily, “I certainly am not getting a job next year, or even for a while – I have to wait for McGonagall…”

“Stop being such – such – losers!” Ginny hiccupped.

“I will drink more, _here_ , if you give up this idea that we should go to London,” Sam stated firmly.

“Oh _alright_ ,” Ginny whined, “More beer! Ooh, how about some firewhiskey?”

“Are any o’ ya overage?” the barkeep asked lazily.

“Yeah, me,” I sighed reluctantly.

“Alrigh’ then,” the man shrugged, bringing out a bottle of firewhiskey and some glasses. I poured some for all of us, knowing I would decidedly regret this in the morning, and chugged it with Ginny.

“Ha ha!” Ginny cheered, “Hooray!”

“Ginny,” Sam sighed, “You know this isn’t healthy –“

“Who _cares_ about healthy? We’re all – hic – gonna die _anyway!_ ”

“Ginny –“ I groaned.

“I don’t think we’re going to die,” Sam said firmly.

“You just jinxed it!” Ginny laughed, pointing at him drunkenly as she chugged more Firewhiskey, swaying a bit in her seat.

“Oh come off it –“ Sam rolled his eyes.

“Probably should touch wood, mate,” I laughed.

Sam put his hand dramatically on the table, raising his eyebrows at me, making Ginny burst into laughter.

“You both are _ridiculous!_ ” she giggled.

“And you aren’t, right now?” Sam smirked.

“My brother is dead – and – and my mum is gone – and – and – my other brother is a _dick_ – and – and – my dad’s dead – so who cares what I am?” Ginny hiccupped.

“I think you’ve had enough,” I frowned, trying to take her drink away from her, but she refused. Her grip was _ridiculously_ strong.

“No! You haven’t had nearly enough!” she giggled.

“Fine,” I rolled my eyes. Sam smirked at me.

“What? It’s been a trying month,” I sighed, downing two shots of Firewhiskey in short succession. It burned horrifically going down, and I shuddered in pain from the sensation. Sam groaned and followed my example, glaring at me as he gagged on the drink.

“Yay!” Ginny cheered, clapping.

“I’m going to regret this tomorrow,” Sam grunted.

“Oh come _onnn_ grumpy pants!” Ginny giggled, “Lighten _uuuup!_ ”

“Why did you break up with Nadia anyway?” Sam frowned, pursing his lips together tightly, “You were really good together.”

“Oh _really_ good,” Ginny agreed, nodding her head rapidly, “ _Soooo_ good.”

“That’s enough detail –“ I protested, but she did not listen to me. She put up her fingers around her mouth in a v shape and wiggled her tongue around between them _ridiculously_ fast.

“Er – thank you for that image,” Sam snorted.

“Isn’t Nadia ridiculously religious?” I frowned.

“Eh,” Ginny grinned, shrugging, “We all break the rules as kids don’t we?”

“Fantastic,” Sam rolled his eyes, “I’m going to have another drink if that’s where this night is going.”

“Whaaaaat are you secretly a _prude_?” Ginny giggled, “Don’t want to picture me eating out the beautiful and completely no longer mine Nadia?”

“I’m surprised you do, since you broke up with her,” I snorted.

“I still _loooove_ her she’s just not _riiiiiight_ for me and she was holding me BACK!” Ginny hiccupped.

“Okay?” Sam asked, his words slurring a little as the alcohol started to affect him (and me).

“Yeah!” Ginny sighed, “I mean she was _always tryiiing_ to get me to _do less for the rebellion_ like _come oooooon Nads_ I wanna do my PART!”

“Ah,” I frowned, my head spinning a little as the alcohol set in, “Well, I mean, you definitely – seemed – to want out so I guess you did the right thing.”

“I diiiiid!” Ginny frowned, “There are _plenty_ of pretty people in the wooorld!”

“Amen to that,” Sam nodded, raising his glass.

“Everyone is so hot,” Ginny giggled, “Who was your person, Sam?”

“My person?” Sam frowned.

“The person who made you realize that you were _pansexual_ , obviously!” Ginny giggled.

“Ah,” Sam frowned, “Er –“

“I know Maggie’s was Angelina! Otherwise I’d have asked her _first_ ,” Ginny nodded.

I laughed uncontrollably, remembering my crush on Angelina – and how I had found her pretty almost immediately. How silly I had been to not realize my sexuality.

“Er, well, I guess mine was probably – er – see this is just awkward for me,” Sam sighed.

“Oh?” Ginny laughed, “Here, I’ll go first!”

“Okay?” Sam frowned.

“Mine was _Maggie!_ ” Ginny giggled. I felt my jaw drop in shock.

“Wait, _what_ –“

“Yeah! I think you’re _hot!_ Neville is _sooooooooo_ lucky!” Ginny whined.

“Uh – wow – I’m – flattered,” I stammered out.

“Your tits are _wonderful –_ “

“Thanks – again –“

 “I wanna use them as a pillow –“

“Please don’t –“

“Mine was Fred,” Sam muttered. Ginny stopped rambling; I looked at him in shock. Ginny immediately burst into tears.

“Alright,” Sam sighed, “Come on, Ginny. You need to sleep.”

Ginny kept crying, holding her face in her hands tightly. Sam moved out from me, wobbling slightly, and helped picked Ginny up from her bench.

“Want to help me with this?” he grunted. I nodded and I walked with them, making sure that he didn’t drop her as we went back up to Hogwarts. We reached the entrance hall, and I sighed, helping her onto my shoulder and standing up again.

“I’ll take her up to the tower. Thanks, Sam,” I sighed.

“No problem,” Sam hiccupped, “See you for the hangover tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” I snorted. I walked up with Ginny, who was stopping her crying and just resting on my shoulder, but I realized I didn’t know the Gryffindor password anymore.

“Mags,” Ginny begged, crying more, “Please don’t leave me –“

“I – okay,” I sighed, “Do you want to stay in our room?”

“Yes please,” Ginny nodded. I brought her to our room and helped her into our bed, going back over to the raptors and scratching behind Blue’s head.

“Maggie?” Ginny asked.

“Yes?” I sighed, looking up. I hoped Neville was okay.

“Will I ever find someone else?”

I smiled weakly at her, “Yeah, Gin. You will.”

“Thanks,” she murmured, before collapsing against the bed and snoring loudly. I rolled my eyes, watching her carefully to make sure she didn’t vomit. I was barely buzzed after all, and someone had to do it. The door to the room opened after a while, and I smiled at Neville, who was now completely normal in color.

“Merlin that took forever – uh –“ Neville frowned at Ginny in our bed.

“She… had a rough evening,” I sighed.

“Ah,” Neville nodded, “Should we leave her be?”

“I think that would be for the best,” I agreed. He joined me on the floor and held me in his arms, kissing me softly on the head.

“I hope she’ll be okay,” he sighed.

“I do too,” I nodded, “We’ll just have to continue to be there for her.”

“Yeah,” Neville agreed, “Yeah.”

We didn’t sleep well, being on the floor and all; but Ginny woke up worse, being so hungover that she basically didn’t leave our room for the rest of the day.  

“I regret everything,” Ginny moaned into my pillow.

“It’s alright,” I laughed, looking at her and rolling my eyes.

“I’m sorry I came onto you,” Ginny muttered.

“Wait, _what_?” Neville laughed harder.

“She revealed that I was the person who made her realize she wasn’t straight and she started talking about my various attributes,” I rolled my eyes.

“I regret everything,” Ginny groaned.

“Well as long as nothing happened I don’t care much,” Neville chortled.

“No, soon after she broke down and she went to sleep,” I explained.

“Everything. All of the things,” Ginny muttered.

“You need to find a better outlet for your emotions than partying, mate,” I snorted. She groaned softly and looked up from the pillow.

“ _Fine_ ,” Ginny sighed, “I’ll focus on the rebellion, _alright?_ ”

“Good plan,” Neville giggled.

The rest of the week went by without much of an incident – classes were smooth, no attacks occurred on Hogwarts, and Hermione and Ginny worked hard together to prep for the rallies that weekend. Nadia still came to hang out with us, but she never talked to Ginny, and if there were fewer than four other people there, she would quickly leave rather than interact with Ginny in close quarters. Ginny looked depressed about it, but she knew that it would be like that for a while, and did not press the issue.

“You’ll be friends again eventually,” Harry soothed.

“I hope so,” Ginny sighed one evening as we finished up plans for the rally that Saturday before Alliance meeting. It had stopped meeting for a few weeks as the new term started and all the terrible things happened, but now Neville insisted on starting it back up again and keeping it on track. Granted, it decidedly added to his stress on top of his research, but I didn’t really have a good argument to talk him out of it.

“We just have to keep a semblance of normalcy,” Neville sighed as we got on the bus to go to London for a rally, “We just – we just have to, you know?”

“I mean, I agree,” I sighed, “But at the same time, I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

“Neville will be fine,” Hermione nodded, “He’s on top of everything, right, Neville?”

“I’m trying to be,” Neville frowned, “My mind is just – completely wrapped up in my project right now.”

“That’s completely fair,” I soothed, patting him on the arm, “You should be focusing. You’re getting really close –“

“So close I can _taste_ it,” Neville nodded, “it’s – it’s right there and I just – just need a breakthrough…”

“Well, you keep working at it, mate,” Harry grinned, “It’s going to be good whatever you find.”

Neville smiled weakly, “Thanks guys.”

We reached London quickly enough – the bus was, after all, enchanted to bypass traffic and go faster than normal, like the Knight Bus, and there were plenty of roads out there towards London. Sirius looked understandably exhausted as we rolled into the city and parked in a bus-designated car park, us walking together through the streets towards Diagon Alley. It had been ages since we had rallied there and it was one of the most contentious places for Backlash-Rebellion fighting; still, we couldn’t ignore London completely. We were a small party, just Harry, Hermione, Neville, Ernie, Sam, Nadia, Ginny, Dean, Seamus, Elena, and Claire, but Nadia and Ginny were avoiding each other as much as possible, with Nadia walking in the back of the group and Ginny in the front.

“This can’t go on forever,” I whispered to Nadia, trying to avoid getting Ginny’s attention.

“She hurt me, Mags,” Nadia mumbled, closing her eyes tightly, “It’s not really something I do lightly, give someone my heart.”

“I… I know,” I sighed, “I’m sorry.”

“I just wish she would have let me help her,” Nadia muttered, kicking up some gravel as we walked.

“She’s going through things… I know when I was having something similar, I cut everyone out of my life. At the very least, she’s not doing that,” I whispered, “Small comfort for you, but…”

“Yes, there is that, I suppose,” Nadia paused, “I just wish… I don’t know. I wish we had ended it on terms I could understand more.”

“Yeah,” I hugged her as we walked, which was strange for me but Nadia accepted it, “I understand.”

We reached Diagon Alley and went up to a podium at the end of the street, a great crowd of Order Members already there – many unfamiliar faces as well as familiar ones. Some I could have even sworn I saw with the Rebellion previously – they still had lightening bolts on their foreheads, but they were clearly working with the Order, taking instructions from Shae and standing guard around where we would go to speak. I wasn’t going to speak today; Ginny wanted the floor.

“What is she going to talk about?” Harry hissed into Hermione’s ear.

“Not sure, she just said she had a good speech,” Hermione shrugged. Harry sighed, resting his head on hers, and very visibly smelling her hair. Hermione giggled and tried to push Harry off of her, but couldn’t seem to resist leaning up and kissing him.

“We are in _public!_ ” Neville fake-gasped.

“Like you haven’t snogged Maggie on podiums before,” Harry snorted. Hermione giggled happily behind her hand.

“Yes, yes I have,” Neville nodded, kissing me on the top of the head. I rolled my eyes and elbowed him in the stomach.

“You are ridiculous,” I snorted.

“Be quiet, kids. There’s a mixed crowd here, we couldn’t keep it just Rebellion,” Tonks muttered. I glared at her, slightly; if there was one quest I would one day fulfill, it was that of making them stop referring to me – and my mates – as children. But, sadly, that day had not yet come.

“So there’s Backlash present?” Hermione asked sharply.

“Yes, but minimal, and we’re keeping watch on them,” Tonks nodded.

“I’m not sure we should go forward,” Hermione whispered.

“I think it should be up to Ginny whether or not she wants to take the risk…” Harry frowned.

“She’s not doing well right now, Harry, she’s going to be reckless,” I hissed.

“What are you all talking about?” Ginny asked, walking up to us.

“There’s Backlash present in the crowd,” Tonks explained.

“So?” Ginny snorted, “Maybe I can persuade them –“

“I doubt it, Ginny, they’re pretty adamant in their alliances,” Hermione sneered.

“They’re all purebloods who are disadvantaged in some other way – poor, not good at magic, what have you,” Harry agreed, “They want to stay with the system that gives them one privilege – hey, at least you were fucking born.”

“They’re never going to side with a group that wants to take that away,” Neville muttered.

“Well I can still try,” Ginny paused, “I’m not calling it off!”

“Alright,” Tonks nodded, “Let’s get this show on the road.”

Ginny nodded, going back up to the podium. I stood next to her, watching the crowd like a hawk, keeping my hand near my wand so I could pull it out at a moment’s notice.

“When I was eleven, I had a cruel prank played on me,” Ginny began, “My father – who’s dead now, by the way, killed by Lord Voldemort and some of his pals – had a rivalry going with this Death Eater. Lucius Malfoy – you may have heard of him. The Ministry really likes to take his money and then give him favors in return. But I’m not here to talk about that. See, Lucius Malfoy had this weird old belonging of Voldemort himself.”

The crowd was murmuring at every mention of Voldemort’s name – while the Rebellion members seemed to take it in stride, the Backlash folk were noticeably more and more angry with every slip of the word from Ginny’s lips.

“This was a diary. It didn’t seem to have anything written in it at all – Lucius didn’t know what to do with it! Voldemort just said to keep it safe, or to use it if ever Lucius wanted to bring good old Voldy-pants back. Well, when I was a first year, or about to just start, I guess Lucius wanted to bring him back. So he slipped the diary into my pile of books where my parents wouldn’t notice, and I went on my merry way to Hogwarts,” Ginny continued. She took a very deep breath, looking around at everyone with a pained face.

“I was scared, you see. I had siblings – one of whom is dead and the other I don’t talk to anymore, for the record, because the second one raped one of my best friends –“

“Is this just a Ginny goes off about how her life sucks speech, because I’m not sure how much it’ll help,” I hissed to Neville.

“I’m not either – she must have a plan,” Neville shook his head.

“But I didn’t think I could talk to them. I had this empty diary already in my books – perhaps I should write in it, just to get out my thoughts while I got used to this scary new place. And so I did! And when I did, it wrote back,” Ginny took in a shaking breath again.

“The person in the diary – they listened to me. Comforted me. Reassured me. And told me about themselves – how they were Tom Riddle, and had gone to Hogwarts. How they had worked hard there, on something very dear to them. And then, the more I got to know old Tom, the more Tom was a part of me. Because that’s what happens when you get to know someone. They become a part of you – except this was in a strange, literal, magical sense,” Ginny paused.

“He possessed me. Slowly at first – just little things here and there. Murdered some roosters so they wouldn’t crow. Controlled a basilisk – a huge, terrifying snake – and made it petrify a cat. But that wasn’t enough for old Tom. I petrified more and more students, because hey – to him, it was fun to torture muggleborns,” Ginny gritted her teeth furiously.

“I grew frustrated – a friend, reminded me that I didn’t need him. I didn’t know where I was for hours and hours of the day and I was terrified that I was the one doing all the terrible things. I chucked the diary into the loo. But then another friend found it, and started writing to Tom himself – I couldn’t let this friend fall prey to Tom’s evil. I stole the diary back. I wrote in it, because I didn’t know what else to do with it. It called to me, perhaps. I’m not sure how a possessed diary can call to a person, but it did. And I kept petrifying people. And then I took myself into the Chamber of Secrets,” Ginny paused.

“I was to lie there. I was to lie there, and let Tom Riddle drain all my energy. I was to let him kill me to bring himself back. In case it wasn’t clear – Tom Riddle is Voldemort. It’s his name, from before he was the dark lord we all hate. We all hate him, right?” Ginny snorted. Some people sniggered at that, glaring at Backlash members together.

“My friends saved me, and I got some help – but not nearly enough. To this day, you see, I’m completely fucked up. I don’t know what’s real or what’s not. One moment I’ll be happy, the next, completely downtrodden. I don’t know whether or not my life is my own. Voldemort took that peace from me, and it wasn’t even _him_ – just the memory of him, preserved in a diary! He took this away from me. I was eleven. I’m now fifteen, and I still don’t have that peace,” Ginny bit her lip rather hard.

“I have recently suffered some terrible losses. That feeling of surrealism? Isn’t helping with that either. Our world needs to be aware what possession does to people. It needs to be aware – that Voldemort does more than murder and torture. I was violated as an eleven year old. Not sexually – but in a way just as intimate and terrifying. My mind was violated. I have never recovered, I can never be the same – and we have to fight against that. We, as a rebellion, have to agree to not let this sort of thing stand, ever again,” Ginny breathed heavily, “Thank you.”

“Lots of people get possessed by the Dark Lord!” a man shouted, “They’re not whining!”

“I’m not whining,” Ginny stated firmly.

“Yeah you are!” the man insisted, “Whine, whine, whine – that’s all you Rebellion scum do!”

“Accept what the world is and get over it!” another Backlash member agreed.

“We all have our problems! That doesn’t mean you have to whine about them!”

“Shut the fuck up, you stupid girl!”

“You deserved what you got!”

“You’re so weak, you should never have written in that diary –“

“The diary called to you – yeah right. You just liked having the power. I bet you wanted to kill those muggleborns.”

“What a bunch of baloney –“

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!”

Sam was shouting, huffing on the podium, looking out at everyone in fury, “SHUT THE FUCK UP, YOU WANKERS!”

The rebellion members, who had been stunned into silence, nodded with him.

“Can someone fucking escort those douchebags out of here?” he hissed. Some rebellion members started to help the Backlash people out of the street, but there was a lot of fighting in response – people scuffled about and angrily shoved and pushed, and I saw the Order members try to go into the crowd and establish order again. In the chaos, spells started to fly – I saw a stunner head towards me and I ducked, shouting in fear as I fell to the Podium.

“GET THESE KIDS OUT OF HERE!” I heard an Order member scream.

“Oh for the love of Merlin!” I shouted, getting up and shooting a spell at a Backlash member. The member ran away, clearly terrified that I had actually pulled myself together.

Still, more Backlash members poured in from the shops on the street. They started shooting at us and into the rebellion, a wide variety of curses filling the air. I grabbed Neville’s arm as he fought and tried to pull him away, my heart pounding in my ears as so many spells flew past them.

“Argh!”

I looked over to see Sam on the ground, hit with a spell – his shoulder was bleeding heavily. Hermione ran to him and started waving her wand over his wounds, muttering quickly as Order members ran over. Sam gripped his shoulder in pain, grimacing heavily as we grabbed him and got all of us out of the street.

“I’m sorry – I’m sorry – I’m sorry –“

“Ginny don’t be sorry those people were dicks!” I roared.

“It’s all my fault –“

“No, it’s not, Ginny,” Dean shook his head.

“They were going to be dicks no matter what we said,” Elena agreed softly.

“We’re all safe, that’s the important thing –“ Ernie began.

“I’M BLOODY WELL NOT!” Sam roared as we reached the bus. He looked up angrily, turning to me and glaring at me as Tonks patched up his wound.

“I DIDN’T WANT ANY OF THIS!” Sam screamed.

“Sam, don’t –“ Ernie whispered.

“I WANTED A QUIET FUCKING LIFE! I WANTED TO FUCKING LIVE MY LIFE AND GO ABOUT MY BUSINESS! I DIDN’T WANT THIS STUPID FUCKING REBELLION! I DIDN’T WANT TO FUCKING _DIE_ FOR SOMETHING THAT’S A GOD DAMNED LOST CAUSE!” Sam screeched, “YOU HEARD THEM OUT THERE – THEY’RE NEVER GOING TO FUCKING CHANGE! THERE’S NO POINT TO DYING FOR THIS!”

I watched him in shock, fury gripping my heart, my vision turning red as I tried to count to ten.

“YOU FUCKING – I’M GOING TO DIE BECAUSE OF THIS STUPID FUCKING WAR AND I NEVER FUCKING WANTED THAT! I DON’T WANT THIS! I WANT OUT FROM ALL OF THIS _BULLSHIT_ –“

“GO, THEN!” I screamed, “GO, YOU FUCKING COWARD!”

Sam glared at me, breathing heavily.

“You wouldn’t do that, wouldn’t you Sam?” Ernie whispered.

“I fucking would! I never wanted any of this!” Sam hissed.

“I… I can’t believe you’re saying this,” Ernie gasped out, “You’d abandon me?”

“Not you!” Sam shook his head, “This stupid lost cause! That tried to kill me!”

“If you abandon that, you abandon me!”

“Then I guess I’m not, then.”

“Just for selfish reasons!”

“No – not selfish –“

“Then what?” Ernie demanded, looking distraught, “What the hell would make you leave all of us? What the hell would get into you like this?”

“Are you actually Sam?” I asked dully, “Or are you some weird ghost of him?”

“I DON’T WANT TO MAKE MY PARENTS’ SACRIFICE MEANINGLESS!” Sam roared, “THEY DIED FOR ME AND WHO AM I – HOW AM I REPAYING THEM – IF I DIE?”

“They died to make the world a better place,” Ginny whispered softly. Sam looked at her, looking furious still.

“All of them. All of them died to make our world better,” Ginny paused, “But they died with the work unfinished. This isn’t something that will be accomplished in one go. We also have to play our part. Yeah, they died so you’d have a better life – a better world to live in – but it doesn’t matter if you don’t work to help with that goal.”

“I don’t fucking want to die!” Sam insisted.

“Do you think any of us do, mate?” Harry asked, frowning, “Do you think any of us _want_ this?”

“None of us do,” Neville agreed softly.

“I feel like I got roped into something I never asked for and it all spiraled out of my control –“

“You made friends,” I muttered angrily, “You made friends. You were happier with friends; you can’t fucking deny it. You found people you cared about. You fell in love. None of that apparently matters to you though.”

“It matters!”

“It doesn’t seem like it,” Ernie muttered.

“No, no, Ernie – no – I’m sorry – I’m scared – I’m terrified – I’m no Gryffindor –“ Sam sputtered out, “No I – please – no –“

“I’m in this, Sam,” Ernie whispered, sliding to sit next to him and hold his hands tightly, “Sam, I can’t escape this. And no matter what you think, you can’t either.”

Sam had tears in his eyes as he reached to grip Ernie’s arms tightly.

“Look,” Ernie paused, “I love you. You have to get through this, okay?”

“You can’t leave us,” Ginny agreed softly.

“We’re all in this,” Hermione reminded.

“You were on the run with us last year,” Ginny continued, “You really can’t leave this. You’re so in this you’re surrounded in notoriety – and I believe in you.”

“We all do,” Harry agreed.

Sam held his face in his hands, “I don’t want to let them down.”

“You won’t. If you die, you’ll have done the same thing as them, to keep trying to fix this,” Ernie paused, “And if you live – well – you’ll have fought your hardest to make sure our world is as good as it can be.”

Sam nodded, staring out of the window. I walked away to the back of the bus, looking out a different window and ignoring Sam’s presence. I was tired.

We were all tired.

 

* * *

Here is some new art of my characters I received from @chris-sucks on tumblr (Maggie, Neville, Harry, and Hermione in their Homestuck God Tier outfits): 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of important things in this chapter... a lot of buildup for necessary future plot. This will not only impact this story, but a hypothetical sequel I may or may not write depending on my energy and ability. I know it's rough stuff, but we're not going to have any major depressing episodes like Fred and Mrs. Weasley for a while - just hang in there with me. And please comment - man - I really need those. Thanks :)


	123. Chapter One Hundred and Twenty One: January 26 - 31, 1997, Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Some legends are told  
> Some turn to dust or to gold  
> But you will remember me  
> Remember me for centuries  
> And just one mistake  
> Is all it will take  
> We'll go down in history  
> Remember me for centuries  
> (Hey yeah, oh hey, hey yeah)  
> Remember me for centuries"  
> ~ Fall Out Boy, "Centuries"

Chapter 121: January 26 – 31, 1997, Hogwarts

“So are you ever going to talk to Sam again?” Neville asked softly the next morning, curling up behind me in the bed and gently tracing my back with his fingertips. The feeling of his delicate touch on my bare skin made me shiver, closing my eyes and breathing in deeply.

“Eventually. I’m still angry,” I mumbled.

“We all have our moments of weakness, Mags,” Neville whispered softly, now kissing my shoulder. I turned around to face him, still lying on my side and staring into his eyes.

“Okay, then what are yours?” I asked seriously.

“They usually involve you,” he muttered softly.

I put my hands on his face and brought him in for a kiss. He breathed heavily against my lips, pulling back to stare at me sadly again.

“Sorry love,” he whispered quietly, “I just… usually my moments of weakness are when you’re suffering a great deal, and I just want to take you out of this life – out of this terribleness, and run away with you to somewhere safe, where we can just – relax together and be happy and safe.”

“How often do you feel like this?” I asked seriously.

“About once a week,” Neville shrugged.

“Yeah,” I sighed, “I feel like that a lot too.”

“Other times I just… I never blamed you for what happened before fifth year, but sometimes I understand it more than others,” Neville sighed, “Sometimes I just want to go out, get pissed, let off steam, do something _ridiculous_ because fuck it, this war is terrible and we’re all going to die anyway. But then I remember that we want to survive, and that people are counting on us, and we have a part to play, and I pull myself back.”

“it’s a tempting prospect, I agree,” I nodded, “Sadly, we are Dumbledore’s chess pieces.”

“And god forbid we go off the game board,” Neville sighed, pressing his nose into mine, “God forbid.”

“It’ll be okay,” I whispered softly, stroking his face with my fingertips and watching his eyes carefully, “It will.”

“How can you know that?” Neville whispered.

“It just… has to,” I sighed. Neville kissed me lovingly, pulling back to kiss me on the forehead.

“Well,” he paused, looking at me, “Just remember that we have these thoughts too, and Sam is not any more of a coward or runaway than the rest of us.”

“Yeah, I know,” I sighed, “It’s just going to be hard for me for a while.”

“Fair enough, love,” Neville kissed me on the forehead again, “Don’t be overly cruel.”

“I won’t,” I promised softly, “I won’t.”

“Well at least today’s Sunday,” Neville paused, “Would you like to do something together to shake off yesterday?”

“Did Hermione cancel the other rally, then?” I asked sadly.

“Yeah. Sam was really shaken up, and I think we all were,” Neville frowned, “I don’t know what’s going to happen going forward.”

“We can’t stop,” I muttered tiredly.

“Even though we all want to,” Neville agreed sadly.

“I don’t know if want is the right word… I’m just _tired_ ,” I sighed, “This rebellion is… taxing. And I don’t know if I really knew what I was getting into when I agreed to be a part of it. This year, or when Hermione even started all this, fourth year…”

“I don’t think anyone could have any sort of idea of that,” Neville murmured softly, “I think we just… have to continue to play our part, because if we don’t, who will?”

“That’s a very good point,” I nodded, “Alright. I’m going to get up and feed the rexes. Would you like to come along?’

“Oh Merlin,” Neville sighed, “They frighten me.”

“I know, but they’re as much a part of my little brood as the Flock is, so you’re going to have to get used to them,” I grimaced. Neville nodded again and we got dressed, going outside to the Grounds together in the lighter layer of snow. The rexes, however, were not at their usual post; Omega was circling around the edge of the forest, watching carefully. At one point a student tried to walk past, but Omega hissed so loudly at the student that they quickly ran away in the opposite direction.

“Where is Alpha?” I asked, frowning in worry.

“Why is Omega is angry?” Neville asked nervously. I grabbed his hand and ran with him towards Omega, him muttering in protest as I stopped a respectful distance away from the animal. Omega immediately turned towards me, not hissing as loud as he had been at the strange student, but still not refraining from directing a soft hiss in my direction.

“Hey, hey, hey,” I whispered softly, standing back, “Hey. It’s okay, it’s just me.”

Omega stopped hissing and stepped towards me, but he was clearly tense. He looked around the snowy valley while still coming towards me, clearly on the lookout for something.

“Hey, Omega!” I shouted, trying to get his attention. His head snapped back to me, watching me carefully as Neville stayed very, very far away from the entire proceedings. I reached out with my hand, trying to get Omega to place his snout underneath it. After a long time of me standing there, trying to keep my heartbeat under something similar to control, Omega put his snout underneath my hand and let me pat him gently.

“Hey, there you go,” I whispered, “What’s gotten into you, eh?”

Omega pulled back, still watching me closely, but letting me get closer to him as I walked towards where he had been standing. He hissed softly at me again, and I turned around to frown at him.

“Omega,” I shouted in irritation. Omega watched me, no longer hissing, but clearly not eager about me going into the forest.

“What is up with you?” I demanded again, putting my hands on my hips. Neville remained fairly far away, watching me with wide and terrified eyes. I pulled out a cube of meat from my satchel and enlarged it, throwing it at Omega and watching as he happily chowed down upon it.

“Alright,” I paused, “Now that I’ve fed you, can you _please_ lead me to _Alpha?_ ”

Omega finished eating and watched me again, still not eager about me getting into the forest. I frowned, and decided to try what McGonagall had been working on in her spare time.

“Okay then you little shit,” I scowled at the tyrannosaur, “Do you want a treat?”

I pulled out bacon from my backpack and enlarged it, waving it in front of Omega’s face. Omega tried to grab it but I quickly skirted out of the way. I grabbed a string from my bag and tied the bacon to it, pulling out a spare arrow and tying the string to that. I then used my wand to levitate the bacon in front of Omega’s face, distracting him with it as I lured him over nearer to a tree. I quickly climbed the branches, all while hovering the bacon just out of the tyrannosaur’s reach, and managed to maneuver myself onto Omega’s back. The fluffy feathers on his back tickled somewhat as I scooted up to his neck, now just grabbing the arrow to continue to hold the bacon near his face. Omega hissed in irritation, but continued to try to get to the bacon as I dangled it in front of him.

“Neville, if you want to come along, now is the time!” I shouted. Neville looked at me in terror, rapidly shaking his head at the mere thought of coming any closer.

“Oh come on!” I sighed, “Or do you want me to just go in alone?”

Neville sighed and slumped his shoulders, walking over to me and climbing into the tree. He looked awkward and terrified as he got up high enough to fall onto Omega’s back, his face pale as he climbed onto a branch and basically collapsed downward. He grunted with pain, crawling up to be behind me, and held onto my waist so tight I could barely breathe.

“Alright, alright, you’re good!” I gasped out. He nodded into my hair, but didn’t release his grip much. I used my wand to move the bacon forward, dangling it in front of Omega and leading him into the forest. I followed the path of great destruction, watching for where it was clear that Alpha had wandered through the woods. We didn’t go all that far in, just wandering forward a little bit, until we were well out of the way of the Grounds and all the people there. A few trees had been knocked down to make a sort of clearing where one hadn’t been before, and Alpha was lying on the ground. She was watching vigilantly, next to a mound covered in snow and bits of leaves and vegetation.

“What the bloody hell?” I frowned, letting Omega have the bacon and sliding off of his back. Neville followed me, walking very close behind me as I approached Alpha. Alpha hissed at me, louder than she ever had before, so I pulled out more bacon from my bag and enlarged it for her.

“Hey, hey!” I murmured, “Hey! It’s just me.”

Alpha watched me, her teeth bared and her lips rolled up to do so. I threw the bacon at her and she gobbled it up, still watching me like a hawk. At the very least, she stopped baring her teeth.

“Can I come closer?” I asked, knowing she wouldn’t understand a word I was saying. She hissed at me as I took a step closer; Omega had already wandered away, back out to the Grounds. I sighed heavily, running my fingers through my hair and pondering what to do. I needed to investigate that mound of – whatever it was.

“Alpha,” I said sternly. Alpha growled at me, but I pulled out more meat and threw it at her. She ate it, still watching me carefully.

“Alpha,” I said again, “ _Can I come closer?_ ”

Alpha watched me as I took another step towards the mound. She hissed again, and I groaned, holding my face in my hands. I pulled out my wand and pointed it at her; they had begun to eventually associate wands with pain and alarm, though I tried to use them as little as possible. She hissed in shock at me pulling it out but didn’t do much else, watching me even more carefully. I approached the mound, never taking my eyes off of her face.

“I’m going to look,” I stated calmly, “ _Look_.” Alpha still watched me, torn between whatever instinct I was forcing her to fight, and her fear of the wand being pointed at her face. I reached for the snow and brushed it off, peeling off some of the twigs to look inside as Alpha continued to hiss.

Inside was a clutch of five eggs.

I squeaked in surprise and quickly covered them again, making sure to do so thoroughly so as to keep them warm. I frowned in worry, pacing backwards and pocketing my wand. Alpha didn’t hiss anymore as I was quickly backing away, but I knew the eggs couldn’t be left like that.

“Er, Neville?” I said nervously.

“Yes?” Neville answered, his voice high pitched and squeaky.

“Er, can you send a patronus to McGonagall? And – and – Hagrid?” I asked nervously.

“You don’t want to try?” Neville asked.

“I think it would be more efficient if you did it,” I whispered.

“Alright I just – I’ve never sent a patronus message before but – I’ll try –“ Neville stammered. He waved his wand and the lion came out, Alpha hissing at the new obstacle in her nest area. I soothed her by producing more bacon as Neville told the lion instructions, the phantom quickly running away back through the woods.

“What is happening?” Neville asked tentatively.

“She’s laid eggs,” I whispered.

“ _WHAT?_ ” Neville asked, looking terrified, “WHAT?!”

“Yeah,” I paused, “I don’t know if they’ll survive though, it is _bloody cold_ out here, much colder than their native habitat, and I want people to help me figure out what to do –“

“How can you do anything?! She barely let you approach!” Neville protested.

“I don’t know, okay? But I can’t let them die – hopefully Alpha knows what’s she’s doing and has been keeping them warm!” I hissed. Alpha watched me even more carefully as I said her name.

“Okay but if you want to keep them warmer, how can you do that without taking them from her? Wouldn’t that – I don’t know – break some sort of parental bond or some shite?” Neville continued.

“Of course we have to keep the eggs with her, _this is why I’ve asked for help, Nev!_ ” I groaned. Neville nodded, watching in terror.

“How many eggs?” he asked softly.

“I counted five,” I paused, “Five eggs.”

“Holy fuck,” Neville breathed.

Alpha seemed to relax after a while, once it was clear we weren’t going to approach again or do anything to her or the eggs. She returned to her sitting position, close to the nest. I watched as she grabbed more dead vegetation from the forest floor and laid it on top of the mound, clearly doing everything in her power to keep it warm. She even whined somewhat, a sound of distress that went right through me. I had to help her and keep the chicks warm.

“Maggie, what _is_ this all about?”

I whirled around in relief to see McGonagall and Hagrid running over, the presence of the latter causing Alpha major distress. She hissed at him angrily and even stood up, watching the pair of them so steadily and furiously that I briefly wondered if she was going to eat them.

“DOWN!” McGonagall roared, “DOWN, ALPHA! DOWN!”

Alpha watched her for a little while longer, but clearly remembered whatever McGonagall had used to intimidate her and Omega the first time. She sat down, watching the two of them angrily and hissing still under her breath.

“What is this all about?” McGonagall demanded again, turning to face me.

“See that mound?” I pointed. McGonagall nodded.

“She’s laid eggs,” I hissed. McGonagall’s eyes widened in shock.

“How many?”

“Five,” I paused, “They can _not_ be warm enough in there!”

“No, no I highly doubt that – but she won’t allow us anywhere near –“

“We shouldn’t take them away anyway, we don’t want to sever the parental bond,” I shook my head, “we have to warm them up here.”

“So tha’s where we com’ in?” Hagrid asked. Neville nodded, seemingly so terrified after Alpha’s threat display that he couldn’t speak.

“Alright,” McGonagall paused, “The first thing we must do is warm this whole clearing.”

“Really?” I asked in surprise.

“We can’t move them, as you said, and we can’t approach them. I think we need to make this a sort of greenhouse,” McGonagall frowned, “It’ll take some work, but I can put on enough spells for an artificial climate to get going.”

“How will we minimize the effects on the neighboring areas? We don’t want to turn the Forbidden Forest into a tropical jungle,” Neville protested.

“No, which is the next step – containment. We’ll have to make the temperature, precipitation, and other climate factors of this clearing isolated to this clearing – not let the warmth spread or the rain or anything else. And we’ll need fresh vegetation – new leaves – to help her cover the nest,” McGonagall paused, “Hagrid, can you go and do that?”

“Righ’ away, Minerva,” Hagrid walked back through the forest quickly, leaving Neville and me to look at McGonagall awkwardly.

“Neville, help me with some basic warming charms. Maggie, keep Alpha _calm_ ,” McGonagall ordered. I nodded and watched Alpha carefully, murmuring soothingly and not getting too close to her. Neville and McGonagall slowly circled around the clearing, and I could feel it getting significantly warmer. The snow started to melt and Neville carefully took all of it away, Alpha hissing in shock as it flew up and away from her mound. McGonagall piled on more vegetation in response and Alpha stopped hissing, simply watching the proceedings in confusion.

“Alpha,” I said softly. Her head snapped to look at me, eyes locking onto mine.

“It’s going to be okay,” I whispered. Alpha watched me still, the two of us refusing to break eye contact as McGonagall kept working hard to keep the atmosphere and clearing isolated. My heart was in my throat at the intensity of Alpha’s gaze. Her eyes were yellow, with round pupils – a weird combination of familiar and alien. I reached out with my hand, swallowing in terror as I did so, but Alpha didn’t even hesitate to put her snout underneath my hand. I patted her carefully, walking closer to her as Neville and McGonagall continued to work. I even wrapped my arms around her muzzle as Hagrid reached the clearing again, giving McGonagall fresh leaves to put on the mound of eggs. Alpha relaxed underneath my affection, it being associated with her doing a good job well enough by this point. I rose and fell as she breathed, patting her and making soothing sounds until McGonagall nodded at me.

I slowly pulled back, watching her carefully as I did so. She looked away from me and at the mound, sniffing it carefully. She peeled back some of the plants and picked others that Hagrid had littered around the clearing floor, replacing them. She then dug her snout deeper into the mound of plants and seemed to sniff it; satisfied, she pulled back and fixed the nest. I watched her in awe as she finished gently laying plants on the nest, before returning to her spot next to it. Her eyes locked onto mine again, but at least she wasn’t hissing.

“I wish I could convince her that I just want to check and make sure they’re alive,” I whispered softly.

“I don’t think there’s a way to talk to her, Mags,” Neville stammered nervously.

“No,” I agreed, “Probably not.”

“You should leave her be, at any rate,” McGonagall paused, “We’ll all be sure to check up on them periodically. The spells should hold, and Hagrid knows to bring out fresh plants occasionally.”

“Thanks,” Hagrid,” I whispered. Hagrid smiled at me wordlessly as I got up and left with the rest of them, walking back out of the clearing and onto the Grounds. The two professors went off their separate ways as I turned to Neville, frowning at him.

“Nev,” I paused, swallowing.

“Yeah?” he looked at me nervously.

“Animals don’t have babies unless they’re completely comfortable,” I frowned.

“Yeah, stands to reason,” Neville nodded, smiling slightly now that he was safe and away from the large predators.

“Alright,” I paused, “The rexes are outside. In the cold. Completely different environment from what they evolved for.”

“They seem to be adapting fine,” Neville frowned.

“They’ve adapted _exceptionally_ fine,” I rolled my eyes, “They’ve had _young_. In a _hostile environment._ ”

“Okay,” Neville frowned, “What are you getting at here, love?”

“Why the _hell_ ,” I frowned, “would a group of completely warm, comfortable, and happy animals – with _multiple_ possible breeding pairs and _plenty_ of safe, comfortable spaces to have nests – not have eggs before the two frigid, small-territory having predators?”

Neville frowned greater, “This is a… frightening point.”

“it means one of two things,” I paused, “Either, A – they’re _not_ that comfortable or there’s _something_ wrong with their environment that is preventing them from breeding, and I have to figure that out, or –“

“Or the fact that they literally wander the entire castle for hours on end without us knowing means that they’ve stashed the nests away and we have to find them?” Neville grimaced.

“Exactly,” I frowned, “I don’t know why they would leave them unattended overnight, but perhaps they feel the eggs are safe enough where they keep them, and this is just how raptors parent – I have no bloody clue.”

“Well fuck,” Neville groaned, “How are we going to figure this out?”

“Luckily, I have better rapport with the raptors than I do with the rexes,” I frowned, “I think I should try just… _asking_ Blue?”

“How will she even understand that?” Neville chortled.

“I have no idea, but it’s my first guess. My second one is just… _following them around_ for an entire day, which I doubt you’d want to help me with,” I sighed.

“Well, they don’t scare me, so I _would_ ,” Neville frowned, “Yeah, we can try… asking. I can’t believe how ridiculous that sounds.”

I rolled my eyes, but I agreed; I didn’t know if this would work at all or not. We headed up to our room again, walking in together and looking around. Sadly, the raptors were not there.

“Bloody hell,” I groaned. Neville ran his hand through his hair and looked around, frowning.

“Alright, well, we’ll just have to ask around, won’t we?” he asked. I nodded, sighing. He wrapped his arms around me comfortingly and kissed the top of my head, walking with me outside the room and down the corridor.

Ernie waved at us, smiling awkwardly, looking a little downtrodden as we approached him.

“Hey gents,” he paused, “How are you –“

“We don’t have a lot of time, Ernie, I’m sorry,” I sighed, “Have you seen the flock?”

“Er – no, not today, but I can help you ask around,” Ernie nodded.

“Thanks,” Neville sighed, “We have… well we have a question for them.”

“For the Flock?” Ernie raised an eyebrow.

“It’s not as stupid as it sounds. Let’s go,” I sighed. We wandered through the corridors, asking people hopefully, but no one had seen them.

“I’ll help you lot look,” Dean paused, “I need to take my mind off of health care things.”

“Have you been festering again?” Ernie scolded.

“I’m always festering, Ernie,” Dean shook his head, “Every time I go to Healer class I’m festering.”

“There isn’t much to be done right now, mate,” Neville paused, “You really need to take your mind off of it.”

“Seamus has been trying to help, bless ‘im, but I’m just – livid, I guess,” Dean sighed dejectedly as we wandered the corridors together.

“Have you seen the Flock?” I asked a Hufflepuff third year tiredly, my hair now out of its ponytail from the stress I was under.

“Yeah, they went up to the seventh floor,” she answered nervously. I immediately made a beeline for the floor, muttering to myself as I did so.

“Why the fuck would they go up there,” I grumbled in annoyance.

“Birds work in mysterious ways?” Ernie joked.

“I’m going to stitch that on a pillow for her,” Neville chortled.

“Definitely make it the centerpiece of the living room of your eventual house,” Dean snorted.

“This is implying that we will live to the stage of house ownership but yes,” Neville rolled his eyes.

“Okay you queers, hurry the fuck up,” I groaned.

“How dare you insult our merry band?” Ernie laughed.

“It wasn’t an insult, it was an adjective,” I frowned, reaching the seventh floor, “I don’t get it.”

“Don’t get what, love?” Neville asked nervously.

“Literally all that’s up here is the Gryffindor Tower, the Divination Tower, Flitwick’s Office, and the Room of Requirement,” I sighed, “Where the bloody hell could they have gone up here?”

“They could be in the Divination Tower,” Ernie offered.

“No, they couldn’t,” Dean shook his head, “I don’t take it but Parvati still does and she would notice if they were up there.”

“Oh?” I raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah, you forget I’m one of the few people in our year still in the Gryffindor Common Room and so is she,” Dean snorted, “She loves the Flock, she likes to feed them bits of meat whenever she sees them. Lavender and Siobhan are less than enthused.”

“Side note – how is Ron dealing with the fact that he shares the room with you and Seamus and no one else?” Neville snorted.

“Er…” Dean flushed madly. Ernie roared with laughter at the sight.

“We’ve been having, shall we say, roommate discussions,” Dean paused, “About when it is, and is not, appropriate to be naked in front of other people in the dormitory.”

“Oh my god,” Neville roared with laughter.

“At any rate, Parvati would have noticed if the Flock was going up to the tower with any regularity,” Dean paused, “Besides, there’s no where to _hide_ on the tower. Just steps and Trelawney’s domain, where she certainly wouldn’t tolerate them.”

“Fair,” I frowned, “And they can’t get into Gryffindor tower unless people are letting them..”

“No one is, trust me,” Dean nodded.

“Could they be hiding in some sort of closet?” Ernie offered.

“They wouldn’t – well – that’s not what we care about if they are,” I sighed.

“Why _are_ we looking for them anyway?” Ernie asked.

“Er… we’re seeing if they’re hiding a nest,” I grimaced.

“A _nest?_ ” Dean asked, his eyes widening in amazement.

“Yeah… the rexes have laid eggs and if they’ve laid eggs in an environment that _isn’t hospitable_ , in literally a few months since they were made… it seems unlikely the raptors, in a much more hospitable environment, did not,” Neville explained.

“Good lord, _baby rexes?_ ” Ernie gasped.

“Let’s focus on the point at hand – that there’s a chance that the raptors have a brood of babies that we’re completely unaware of,” I groaned.

“Yes, yes –“ Dean frowned, looking down the corridor.

“What?” Neville asked curiously.

“What do you think the odds are that they can get into the Room of Requirement?” Dean asked.

“Er, zero?” Neville frowned.

“I mean, what else is up here? But that student saw them go up here,” Dean paused, “It’s worth… a look?”

“Not like they could have a thought of keeping us out,” Ernie laughed.

“Except they could,” I frowned, “If they could get in, presumably they could think – do not let anyone in to see our nest…”

“Well it’s worth a shot I guess,” Neville frowned. We went to the door and walked past it, and I knew I was thinking _Let me see the raptors_ over and over again, not wanting anything else, just to find my Flock.

The door opened and I went inside, followed closely by Neville and the others. Inside, sure enough, were the flock – and the entire room was made of rusty red sand.

“Holy fuck,” Ernie shouted.

“It’s hot. How is it hot. How is this an entire environment?” Dean protested. There was some sort of artificial sun overhead and lots of rocky outcroppings all over the area. I looked around in amazement with my jaw dropped open. Mong, Deena, and Penny were all wandering around the room, chirping at each other. They were standing next to a rocky outcropping that was hiding from view. Deena spotted me and started chirping, but I ignored her. I walked over to the outcropping and peered around the side.

Sure enough, Blue and Ave were there, and they were feeding a tiny brood of tiny raptor chicks. I felt my hands fly to my mouth to cover my gasp. They were

So

Freaking

_Cute_

There were eight chicks there, all extra fluffy and small, basically round balls of reddish or tannish poof. They were chirping in high pitched voices, reaching for bits of meat that Blue was feeding to them – I recognized it as steaks we had left behind before leaving in the morning. Ave was also helping in feeding, as well as making sure that none of the chicks left the nest.

“Fuck,” I whispered softly.

Blue turned around and chirped at me in surprise, walking over to me and nuzzling up against my legs. I patted her on the head and scratched her behind the crest, keeping my distance from the nest nervously.

“Blue, why did you have them here?” I asked in amazement, knowing she couldn’t understand nor answer me. Blue chirped at me as I approached the next and knelt next to it, looking down at all the chirping animals in amazement.

“I guess you found this place and wanted to lay your eggs in an environment you were more familiar with?” I frowned, watching them all climb out of the nest towards me and surround me. Ave chirped at them, but helped them get closer to me.

“But why wouldn’t you show me them?” I murmured thoughtfully, gently picking up one of the chicks and looking at it. It had a small snout, and tiny feet, but other than that it was a complete puffball. It chirped at me and wriggled around in my hand before I put it back down.

“Maybe you don’t want to risk moving them or people finding them? Maybe you didn’t think I could come in here, that it was only a place for raptors? I have no idea,” I sighed, “I guess you two are the mated pair and the rest of the group helps to guard the nest and take care of you?”

Blue chirped at me, looking right proud of herself. I smiled at her happily and scratched her behind the crest.

“Well you are a good mum, that much is certain,” I paused, “I should move them…”

“What do you want us to do, Mags?” Neville asked.

“We have to move them,” I paused, “Anyone can walk in here.”

“It seems like a better habitat than outside, though,” he frowned.

“It is,” I paused, “But it’s more exposed. There’s a reason the raptors live with us in our room.”

“You don’t want to piss off Blue, though,” Ernie shook his head.

“No,” I agreed, “We need to come up with some way to carry them all.”

“My god they’re adorable though,” Dean was grinning.

“Yes, they’re small floofs, they’re wonderful,” I paused, deep in thought, “Maybe the room could give me a basket of some sort?”

And sure enough, the room delivered. A small wicker basket appeared, just big enough, and with a blanket on the inside. I put it on the ground and nodded at Ave, looking at him earnestly.

“Ave,” I paused, “Please help me put them inside, okay?” Ave chirped at me and gently picked one of the chicks up with his maw, placing it neatly into the basket. I picked up another and everyone around me helped until all eight chicks were in the basket. I picked up the basket gently, walking towards the door as the raptors and the humans followed me.

“Neville, can you put a charm on the blanket to make it warmer? Not hot, but just – like this, I guess, you know?”

“Can do,” Neville nodded, waving his wand over the blanket. The chicks chirped happily at the newfound warmth and we entered the corridor, walking together through it and down towards McGonagall’s office. The others watched the basket with me, making sure I didn’t lose any of them as we moved together. Blue was very nervous, flitting around me quickly as we walked down stairs and through the Grand Staircase. She even hissed at me as the stairs moved.

“They’re okay, they’re okay, they’re okay,” I reassured softly. Neville picked Blue up so she could look and watch the chicks herself. Blue relaxed at that, for once enjoying Neville picking her up, as we walked down to McGonagall’s office. Ernie knocked on the door and then helped us in, me walking up to McGonagall with a grimace painted on my face.

“Good lord, what is happening?” she asked, standing up from her desk. I showed her the basket, smiling a little despite myself.

“TWO IN ONE DAY?!” McGonagall screeched.

“In this case, this happened a while ago, I mean, those aren’t newly hatched?” Neville offered.

“Where _were_ they?” McGonagall demanded.

“Room of Requirement,” Ernie laughed.

“You’re bloody kidding –“ McGonagall swore.

“Professor!” Dean shouted.

“I’m sorry, it’s been a long day,” McGonagall rubbed her temple, “So what should I do?”

“Can you… make our room bigger?” Neville grimaced.

“Bloody –“ McGonagall began, but stopped herself this time, “Fine, fine. Did you warm the blanket?”

“Yes,” Neville nodded.

“Alright then. I’m sure the raptors can take care of them on their own, but I’ll look into it. Not like we know anything,” McGonagall scowled, “Bloody paleontology –“

“PROFESSOR!” Dean roared with laughter.

“This is my life, children, this is my life,” McGonagall paused, “Just keep track of them, maybe give them tiny bands on their ankles.”

“Can do,” I nodded, leaving with the brood. We entered the room and McGonagall expanded it, helping me set up a pen for the raptor chicks. We even managed to make a small ecosystem for them in the corner, setting them in a new nest made of sand and rock, warmed artificially in the corner. Blue chirped happily, even fluffing up her feathers in joy as I set each chick carefully in the new nest.

“I’ll be sure to have the kitchens send up more food,” McGonagall said in farewell when it was all done, “ _Honestly…_ ”

“Well that was fun,” Ernie grinned, “You have to name all of them.”

“Oh fuck,” Neville groaned.

“I’ll figure that out later,” I giggled, taking one into my hands and letting it wander up my arm. Dean and Ernie left as I cooed at it, overwhelmed by its cuteness. It had a long, poofy, rigid tail; a body basically in puff ball form; and a small puffy head with a scaly snout. Its wings were tiny against its body poof, as were its skinny little legs. It was only about nine inches or so long, and most of that was poof.

“This is great,” Neville paused, “We should show everyone.”

“Agreed,” I smiled at him weakly, “I think it’ll cheer up Ginny immensely.”

“Oh definitely,” Neville agreed, sitting next to me. We let the babies crawl all over us as the Flock watched carefully, but Blue’s happiness at the event was all the permission I needed.

Still, Neville couldn’t let the babies distract him when he was so close to a breakthrough, and he barricaded himself in McGonagall’s office as I cared for the chicks and tried to come up with names for them.

“You have a wealth of dead acquaintances to choose from!” Hermione teased, letting some of the chicks climb up and basically attack her as I sat next to her. I rolled my eyes and flicked her in the arm as Harry chortled softly next to us.

“You could name them after people you hate, to give you better associations with their names,” Harry joked.

“Ha ha,” I snorted sarcastically, “No, they need original names.”

“Well you should put bracelets on their ankles with their names on them so you can tell them apart,” Hermione nodded firmly.

“Alright,” I sighed, pulling out the small rings that McGonagall had given me. I took the blue one and frowned at the chick nearest to me, tapping my quill against my lips.

“Tas,” I stated simply, writing the name on the band and gently hooking it around the little chick’s ankle. The chick chirped at me in confusion, before waddling over to Blue. I took another one and a pink ring, still sitting thoughtfully.

“How about Saura?” Harry offered.

I laughed loudly but wrote it on the pink ring, “Sure.” I put it around the chick’s ankle, and Saura went to join Tas underneath Blue’s wing. I took a green ring and now looked at the chick perched on Hermione’s shoulder.

“You should name her,” I offered. Hermione grinned, looking at the little floof curiously.

“Aisha,” Hermione grinned.

“Are we sure she’s a girl?” Harry asked.

Hermione picked up the chick and gently blew air onto the chick’s nether regions. She giggled and put the chick back on her shoulder, shrugging.

“I couldn’t tell, and gender is a social construct anyway,” she laughed.

“Geez, Harry, keep up with the times,” I giggled.

“Fine, fine,” Harry rolled his eyes, kissing Hermione lovingly on the cheek. I labeled the green ring and put it on Aisha, letting her join Blue’s wing of safety. I took out a purple one, and after much deliberation we named that raptor Dakota; a red ring went on a raptor now named Archie; an orange one on Zhenny; a yellow one on Tosh; and finally a cyan one on Ossie. The eight chicks joined Blue under her wing, chirping happily before falling asleep, as Blue proudly shielded them and chirped at me.

“Yes, you did a good job, yeesh,” I laughed, rolling my eyes and scratching her behind her crest. Ave joined her, sitting next to her and chirping happily, watching the babies under her wing intently.

It was definitely louder in the room, but I didn’t mind that much, since Neville was gone nearly every day. It was comforting to have the chicks be chirping loudly in my ears, when I missed him and required the company. Ginny came by even on occasion to enjoy their affectionate nature and warmth.

In fact, I was so used to the sound of the chirping after a week, that I was soothed by it. I found myself lying on the floor, letting the babies crawl all over me, napping somewhat as I let Blue rest her head on my chest. I idly pet her head and crest, the repetitive motion and endless chirping leading me to close my eyes slowly and strongly.

“MAGGIE!”

I jumped up from my nap – who knew how long I had been out – in shock. Neville was standing in the doorway, and the alarm from his greeting caused all the chicks to quickly run off of me. Neville closed the door in alarm, stopping the chicks from leaving; Blue chirped in irritation at him as I sat up and blinked groggily.

“What the bloody hell –“

“I FIGURED IT OUT!” Neville screamed.

“Holy fuck – calm down!” I laughed, getting up and walking towards him, carefully watching where my bare feet went for dinosaur droppings and small poofs.

“I figured it out! The last piece of the puzzle!” Neville was bouncing eagerly, “I figured out the gene regulatory network –“

“Holy shit, really?”

“Yes! I found these four genes and I’ve worked out how they do it – oh do you want to hear? I want to tell you, please!” Neville begged.

“Of course I want to hear!” I laughed, “Tell me, tell me!”

He pulled me to our bed and pulled out a pile of notes from his robes, eagerly spreading them out and looking at them intently.

“Alright,” Neville paused, “Well the first gene is the most important one and it was the easiest one for me to figure out because it was the only thing that had a consistently similar differences between muggles and wixen – I just was looking for the wrong thing!”

“Oh?” I asked.

“Yeah! I was expecting the ability to use magic to be dominant because – well – preconceived notions that being a wix is better, I guess?” Neville grimaced, “At any rate, that’s not it at _all!_ There are a lot of genes involved in manipulating magical energy, but they need to be turned _on_ for you to be a wix – do you follow?”

“I do know rudimentary genetics, yes,” I teased, sticking my tongue out at Neville.

“Well okay, there’s this _one gene_ that is in charge of turning on and off _everything._ I’ve given it the allele name of M just because – magic, you know? And it’s on the third chromosome…” Neville rambled. I nodded in understanding.

“Well okay – the dominant allele of the gene, so capital M, codes for this protein that just turns off all these other regulatory genes – if it’s there, it blocks transcription of all the others. Binds to the regulatory regions and can’t be turned off by any sort of external factor,” Neville paused, “You only need one copy of it for it to do this, so, MM and Mm produce it, block the transcription of the other magical gene regulators, and no magic is ever done – none.”

“So that’s muggles then?” I asked.

“Exactly,” Neville nodded, “It’s only when _none_ of this transcription factor is produced – so mm, double recessive locus – do you get magic. That allele codes for a faulty protein – our existence is an accident! A mutation!”

“How did magical genes even evolve then, if that is what happens?” I asked seriously.

“I honestly have no idea – how we evolved is a question I want to look into more, but we definitely happened second,” Neville paused, “But that’s how muggle borns are born – their parents are both heterozygous for the M gene and they have a homozygous recessive child –“

“But what about squibs? And I mean – shouldn’t we have so many more muggle borns if that’s all there is to it –“

“I’ll get to squibs – and as for the frequency, I mean, it’s all Hardy Weinberg isn’t it? So the m allele is really _infrequent_ in the population, that’s all –“

“Yeah that makes sense – wow – okay – so what else?”

“There are three other genes that turn on when that M protein isn’t present – at the P gene, on the fifth chromosome, the capital P protein codes for an enhancer, which turns on genes involved in magical processes and causes transcription to occur at an accelerated rate. But the more you have of this protein, the more genes are turned on and can be going and the more copies that can be produced – so it’s an incomplete dominance! Without this protein, or p, which codes for a faulty version that doesn’t work, there’s less enhancement – and poorer magical ability! So PP is really strong magical ability from this gene, Pp decent, and pp weak ability – but there are two more to go through,” Neville paused, flipping through his notes.

“Alright, I’m following,” I nodded.

“So then the W gene – which is on the fourth chromosome –the dominant form codes for an inhibitor. It _blocks_ RNA polymerase and other important components of transcription from binding to the DNA – and it also has incomplete dominance, so the more copies that are produced, the more they’re able to block gene expression – so WW has very weak magical ability, Ww has decent ability, and ww have a strong magical ability because they’re not making any of that protein!” Neville explained excitedly.

“Alright,” I grinned, “What’s the last one, then?”

“N – it blocks W, and it’s also on the fourth chromosome. So the dominant gene codes for a factor that binds to the W protein and causes it to unbind from the DNA – and it’s complete dominance, so even if you’re heterozygous, you’re still going to produce the same amount of activator – so NN and Nn both contributed to increased magical ability and nn doesn’t block W at all –“ Neville continued.

“Alright, so then what is a squib, exactly?” I asked.

“A squib is mm – they’re born from wixen parents – but they have no copy of the P gene, they _have_ a copy of the W gene – two of them – and no copy of N – so they’d be mm, pp, WW, and nn – the ability to, in theory, do magic, but no activators of magical gene expression present to either start the transcription of genes necessary for magical ability, or to block W!” Neville explained excitedly.

“Wait a second, wait a second,” I paused, “This in theory means that there are muggles who are, technically, better at magic than certain wixen, if you turned off that M gene.”

“Exactly!” Neville cheered, “Exactly! The strength of your magical ability really has _nothing to do_ with who your parents are – it’s these other three genes that are masked by M!”

“Holy fuck,” I breathed.

“And okay – I managed to snag some of Dumbledore’s DNA because I figured he was probably the best analogue for a strong wixen, right? Well I was right and holy shit, Maggie – he was PP, ww, and Nn – but I’m sure being PP, ww, and NN would have the same result, that would cause strong magical ability, the strongest possible – at least with the gene network. I haven’t looked into how different genes involved in actually manipulating magical energy work, but I didn’t see a whole lot of variation – most of the limiting factors on how strong you are at magic, I think, happen here in this network – and of course there are psychological things involved, I mean, I wasn’t very good at magic until I believed in myself because of you and the other gents, and I looked, my genotype is mm, Pp, Ww, and NN, so I’m actually _quite good_ , not extremely good – Hermione’s better than us by the way – but good! Way above average, and –“

“What am I?” I asked nervously.

“PP, Ww, and Nn, so also good – frankly we should have about the same level of magical ability, since P acts downstream of the W-N network – anyway – “

“Okay,” I breathed a sigh of relief, “Sorry, I just – this is huge –“

“It is!” Neville agreed, bouncing a little in his seat, “But yeah there were _loads_ of muggles who _technically are better at magic_ than most of the wixen I sampled! And there are the people who are poor at magic, too – pp, WW, and NN or pp, WW and Nn being good examples – people who probably didn’t go through school or did very little of school – and there are just varying grades, like then most people are just okay at magic, have genotypes like Pp, WW, and NN, that sort of thing – then most of what’s left are just average, with things like pp, Ww, and NN, or pp, ww, and nn – then very few are good, very good, or strong – I dunno I haven’t done much population genetics on it, I was just focusing on figuring out the genes themselves –“ Neville rambled.

“You should definitely determine that, I think that would also be helpeful,” I offered.

“That’ll be my next project – I want to get this info out – do you want to help me write a Quibbler article?” Neville asked hurriedly, “Not the best platform but I don’t know where else to publish it – the Daily Prophet definitely won’t do it –“

“No, no, the Quibbler is good,” I nodded, “Especially if you describe what you did – write up a proper scientific article, you know?”

“Yes! Yes! Let’s do that. I’ve taken loads of notes, honestly I’ve practically written such a thing – let’s do it!” Neville cheered. I laughed and kissed him on the cheek, helping him to write. We spent most of the evening writing together and well into the night, finally sending off Darwin – it seemed fitting – with the essay for the Quibbler at some point around three in the morning. We collapsed onto each other as we fell asleep, Neville smiling wider than he had in ages – since before Sprout had died. I knew he was proud to honor her memory and complete his project – and I was happy that something seemed to be going right, for once.

Still, we woke up in the morning, knowing that people would read the article and react to it. Neville looked as white as a sheet as we got ready, and I had to calm him down repeatedly to try and stop him from vomiting.

“They’re going to freak out – no one is going to like this – no one –“

“Nev, Nev, _breathe_ ,” I soothed softly, “Take Deena with you today, okay?”

Neville nodded rapidly, grabbing Deena and holding her probably too tightly, but Deena didn’t seem to mind much. She cuddled with him and nestled against his chest, before we walked out together out into the Great Hall.

Though the Quibbler was still silly, it had become known as a bastion for Rebellion publications and papers, and most people these days had a subscription to keep up with that side of things, a side free from Ministry influence. So it was no surprise when students came up to Neville as we reached the table, congratulating him.

“It was hard to understand, but I think I got the gist –“

“I understand how this all works so much better now! Thank you!”

“Wow, I was wondering how the whole Squib versus Muggle Born thing worked –“

“I always thought I had no magical talent, and then I came here and professors egged me on and it worked – guess I wasn’t a squib after all –“

“I’m not the same species as muggles.”

Neville looked up angrily at the seventh year Slytherin staring him down.

“We’re completely different, I don’t care what your stupid science says –“

“Doesn’t matter if you don’t care,” Neville responded coldly, “Those are the facts. You’ll just have to learn to deal with them.”

“I don’t give a fuck what science says –“

“You’re literally denying reality right now,” I snorted.

“That’s what you’re doing. You’re denying reality because it doesn’t fit with your perception of the world,” Neville rolled his eyes, “Might want to examine that in yourself”

The Slytherin grunted furiously, walking away in a huff. Neville returned to cheerfully eating his breakfast, but it wasn’t very long after that that the letters started dropping in.

“Oh no,” Hermione breathed.

“Look, this is not unexpected, we all knew people were going to get pissed off by Nev’s research,” Harry said calmly, “We should just not open them –“

“But what if someone has a legitimate scientific criticism?” Neville asked nervously.

“Well that certainly wouldn’t be a howler,” Harry groaned, gathering up all the red envelopes as more and more letters piled on. He handed them to me and I quickly threw them in the fire, the shrieks from all of them mixing and going off at once so that the precise words couldn’t be heard.

“Alright, so what about the rest of them?” Neville asked nervously, looking like he was about to cry.

“The rest of them – Hermione and I will open while Maggie takes you away and comforts you. We’ll only give you positive letters or ones that actually talk about the science, okay?” Harry stated firmly. Neville nodded, weeping a little as I helped to pull him out of the Great Hall and into the Entrance Hall. He sat on the steps, pulling Deena into his lap to scritchle. I sat next to him and wrapped my arms tightly around his shoulders, holding him close to me and kissing him on the side of the head.

“You knew people would be like this. We live in an ignorant world, filled with ignorant people. It’s not on you, okay, love? It’s not on you,” I murmured. Neville nodded wordlessly.

“You did something _amazing_ , something no one has _ever tried_ to do before, and you should be _so proud_ of yourself, Nev,” I kissed his ear softly, “ _So_ proud.”

Neville nodded again, looking downtrodden. I continued to rub his back and kiss him on the cheek, holding him tightly in my arms to try and sooth him. He mumbled sadly but I kissed him every time he did so, looking at him desperately.

“You did a wonderful thing and you’re going to _continue_ to do wonderful things, okay? I’m going to start looking into why magic evolved at all – and you can look into the population frequencies – study the actual magical genes affected by the network – you can do this. I’m so unbelievably proud of you, Nev, for figuring this out, you have _no_ idea,” I whispered softly, kissing him on the base of his jaw, “You are amazing. A complete inspiration. I promise.”

“Really?” Neville managed to whisper through his tears.

“Really,” I nodded, “You make me want to do even more research, and that’s saying something. I want to really impact everyone, like you.”

Neville pulled me in for a long, hard kiss, making me squeak in surprise. He kept kissing me for a while, just gently massaging my lips with his own, wrapping me up in his arms and holding me close to him.

“Thank you Mags,” he breathed, pulling back from me and pressing his forehead and nose to mine. I smiled weakly, kissing him lightly on the tip of his nose.

“Of course Nev,” I murmured, “I love you.”

“I love you,” he responded as Harry and Hermione finally emerged from the Great Hall, wandering towards us with a small stack of letters.

“Admittedly, most people wrote in to say bigoted, ignorant, or anti-science stuff,” Hermione sighed dejectedly.

“No one corrected you on the science, but the day’s still young. Here are some people who actually appreciated what you said,” Harry rolled his eyes, handing it to Neville. Neville clutched the letters tightly to his chest.

“Thanks, you guys,” he whispered softly.

“OF course. We’ll keep doing that until this dies down –“ Harry began, but Hermione cut him off.

“Actually… do you think you could speak about it this weekend, Nev?” Hermione asked nervously, “I feel like talking about how there is very little ultimately different between muggles and wixen –“

“I really can’t, Hermione,” Neville shook his head rapidly, “I’d be far too scared.”

“Alright,” Hermione sighed dejectedly, “It was worth a shot, and we need to give another rally to make up for that terrible one last time –“

“I can do it,” I offered softly. They all looked at me in surprise, Neville especially.

“I know the research as well as Neville, so I can defend it,” I paused, “I’m not nearly as scared of speaking as Neville is, and you’re right, we need to have a good rally, and this is a good cause, that connects to – so much other shite we’ve been trying to do.”

“If you’re sure, Maggie, I don’t want to push you –“

“I don’t mind,” I paused, looking over at Neville earnestly, “Really. I don’t.”

“If you’re sure,” he whispered, looking at me lovingly.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” I grinned, “I can be your bulldog.”

“What now?” Neville asked, laughing.

“Bulldog? Okay so when Darwin first proposed evolution,” I explained, “He was really shy about it, like you – very bad at defending his work. So his friend, Thomas Huxley, went and defended the theory for him. He also did a bunch of other really cool stuff – he was the first person to think birds were dinosaurs – and is, all around, an underrated historical scientist. So he was called Darwin’s Bulldog.”

“So, you’re Longbottom’s Bulldog?” Harry snorted.

“Why not?” I offered, “It’s better than letting people just bully him.”

“I agree,” Hermione beamed. Neville kissed me again, holding me tightly in response to my proposition.

I was nervous, but I knew I could do it for him.

* * *

Here is Neville, Maggie, and Blue, drawn by my friend @ryuukibart on Tumblr!

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew! A lighter chapter for once! I recognize that a lot of what's been happening has been hella dark, so I let a chapter be mostly happy for once. Please comment! Thank you!!! (Sorry for the oversimplified genetics - didn't want to make it too complicated for obvious reasons).


	124. Chapter One Hundred and Twenty Two: February 1 - 2, 1997, London, Hogwarts and Dublin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "But you put a new hue in my blue   
> Added a perspective to my concrete views   
> 'Bout tossin caution into the breeze   
> Followin' emotion like streams to the seas   
> Top priority believe you me   
> Like love how you feel, you alright, whatchu need?   
> It's more than your lips on the nap of my necks   
> Or your hands on my breast, with your leg on my thigh   
> Or the look in your eyes as you slide inside   
> It's the way you make me want to live instead of die 
> 
> For you I'd dive into a treacherous sea   
> Bring you Neptune's jewels to keep you happy   
> I would fly into a merciless sun steal you the sky   
> 'cause you're the one 
> 
> The funniest part is that I've never claimed you   
> Yet and still when I talk to God I name you   
> Even got you own song look, you a star   
> No need to call names you know who you are   
> I'd give you everything be the mother of your seeds   
> Keep the world at bay if you need time to breath   
> Be the chest to rest on when things a bit to much."   
> ~ Mystic, "Neptune's Jewels"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW For sexual content between the swirly lines

Chapter 122: February 1 – 2, 1997, London, Hogwarts and Dublin

“So you know what to say inside and out, right?” Neville asked nervously, hovering around me much like a nervous parent around a child going to school for the first time. I rolled my eyes at him and patted him on the shoulder, hopefully in a comforting sort of way.

“I’ve studied your notes thoroughly, Nev, I promise,” I murmured softly, “I can handle it.”

“I just – if you get hurt – because of me –“ Neville stammered out, looking horrified at the very prospect. I pulled him in for a long kiss, squeezing him tightly in my arms as I did so.

“It won’t be because of you, Neville. It’ll be because people are terrible. Someone has to speak about this, and I’m happy to do it,” I reassured, “I promise.”

Neville nodded, but tears were filling his eyes again as he refused to let go of my arm.

“Neville, you have to let her go,” Harry sighed softly, resting against the wall of the Leaky Cauldron as we waited for the Order members to show up.

“But – I –“ Neville stammered out.

“You do,” Hermione agreed quietly, “If you can’t defend the work, then someone has to, and it has to be her.”

Neville nodded, pulling at his hair a little bit. Hermione glared at him and he immediately dropped his hands; when he had pulled out his hair during our anniversary, Hermione had managed to fix it but it had been a complex series of incantations and she was loath to repeat them. Neville shoved his hands forcefully in his pockets in response and tottered about nervously, tears still filling his eyes.

“So I have to go to the Ministry after this,” Harry offered, clearly desperate to change the subject.

“Oh?” I asked, frowning.

“Yeah. Yesterday in all the chaos I got a letter from them but I didn’t want to distract Neville,” Harry shrugged.

“And now you do?” I offered, rolling my eyes.

“He needs it now,” Harry sighed. Neville nodded desperately, reaching out for me and holding me in his arms again, even though he had spent the better part of the day holding me.

“This isn’t exactly good distraction, though,” Hermione frowned greatly.

“It’s all I’ve got,” Harry sighed.

“What is it?” I groaned.

“I have to go in to fix my badge,” Harry grunted in annoyance.

“You have got to be kidding me,” Neville hissed, turning away from our hug to glare angrily.

“Nope,” Harry grunted in irritation, “They have to change my physical disability box.”

“It’s not as if Harry has been hiding that his cough isn’t going away,” Hermione sighed, “Anyone who’s seen him recently knows, it was going to reach their ears eventually.”

“Welcome to club of having more than three non green boxes,” I stated dully.

“Thanks for that,” Harry sighed, “They haven’t determined what they’re going to change my box to, but don’t be surprised if it’s red when I get out of there.”

“You can walk around and fight in battles!” Neville protested.

“Yes, and any time he does he nearly dies,” Hermione murmured softly. Harry wrapped his arm around her and frowned, kissing the top of her head. She buried her face in his chest and refused to move from it.

“I’m not going to lie, Harry, you definitely have a moderate disability, this isn’t a joke,” I muttered regretfully.

“I know,” Harry sighed, “I know. It’s not good. I wouldn’t even argue with major disability. I’m having a lot of struggles and it probably won’t go away. But I have to… I don’t know. I’m not happy that I have to go in and have myself branded, and I doubt that this will end well for me.”

Hermione’s arms visibly grew tighter around him. I sighed heavily.

“Do you want us to come with you?” Neville offered softly and tiredly.

“I’m not sure,” Harry frowned.

“Not like we could make the experience any worse, and us being there might scare them into being milder,” I rolled my eyes.

“That’s fair. Yeah, come along, I suppose,” Harry sighed, “Hermione already was, of course.”

“I fully plan on glaring up a storm, but I’m sure Maggie could do that even more effectively than I,” Hermione laughed.

I rolled my eyes and nervously looked as Tonks, Shae, Lupin, and Sirius showed up, walking towards us from the fire. Lupin looked concerned, while Sirius looked absolutely giddy.

“Well? Let’s get this show on the road!” Sirius laughed.

“What is wrong with you?” Shae snorted.

“Look, what Neville discovered literally disproves everything my terrible, asshole parents espoused during their lives,” Sirius grinned, “This is the best thing ever.”

Lupin rolled his eyes, pursing his lips together in a thin line.

“At any rate, let’s try to keep this as under control as possible, alright?” Tonks sighed, “We don’t need to be giving Remus a heart attack.”

“Thanks for that,” Lupin grunted in slight annoyance.

I swallowed deeply, looking over at Neville nervously. His facial expression matched mine, reaching out to hold my hand tightly in his. We walked together through the street, up to a set up podium, as people started to jeer at us as we walked. I squeezed his hand tighter and held my head up as high as I could, ignoring all the shouts and protests as I headed up to the podium and stared out at everyone looking at me.

“Shut up,” I stated, glaring. We had all been so focused on playing nice before now that this change in tone was enough to jar everyone to silence; some look so affronted I grinned.

“Thank you,” I paused, frowning and looking down at Neville’s notes. I had studied them extensively since the day before, but they were nearly impossible to fully understand. So much of it was written in terms that I could barely understand. I shook my head quietly and stared up at the crowd, knowing that what Neville knew in genetics, I matched him in evolution.

I might have been his bulldog, but if there was any metaphor that fit us well, he was Mendel, and I was Darwin.

“Alright let’s get one thing straight,” I stated firmly, “The fact that muggles and wizards are the same species isn’t actually breaking news.”

Mutterings went up around the crowd.

“Look,” I laughed, “Do you all even know what a _species_ **is**?”

The mutterings quieted down. I snorted.

“Alright, well, I’ll make this as simple as possible. A _biological species_ – that’s the type you care about, trust me, it’s what you mean when you say the word species – is a population of organisms – an organism meaning, a living thing – that _can breed with each other and produce fertile offspring_. That’s it. That’s all a damn species is,” I grinned. The crowd was a mixture of beginning understanding and sheepishness, as well as anger in some corners.

“So, how many of you are halfbloods?” I asked calmly. A good portion of the crowd raised their hands; with the badges, no one could avoid it.

“Great! How many of you are _actually_ halfblood, meaning, one parent is a wizard, the other is a muggle?” I asked calmly. A bunch of hands went back down, but many remained.

“Alright, how many of _you_ have children?” I rolled my eyes. More hands went down, but plenty stayed up.

“Congratulations! You are all proof that muggles and wixen are the same damn species and we can all move past that,” I snapped in annoyance. They lowered their hands, everyone looking mildly put out.

“So, given that we are the same god damned species, as proven by you, just now, how do wixen happen? It’s an important question, let’s be real,” I frowned, “But it’s just natural variation. Not every single member of a species is identical. For example, I have brown hair. You,” I pointed into the crowd, “Have blonde hair. And you,” I pointed to another person, “Have red hair. Got it?”

More muttering greeted my ears.

“Given this,” I rolled my eyes, “Whether or not you have magic – that’s variation too. And Neville just wanted to know how it worked. Ta da. He knows.”

“Alright I’ll give you that we’re the same species,” one crowd member shouted, “But what is this bullshit that a muggleborn can be better than magic than a pureblood?”

“Okay but haven’t you seen the evidence for that around you? We all know people who struggled in school, who did poorly, who just couldn’t seem to grasp the skills,” I rolled my eyes, “And we all know a muggleborn who showed everyone up. This is your own internal prejudice acting up, get _over_ yourself.”

“What he wrote made no sense to me –“

“Because you’re not a scientist, dumbass.”

“How could he be?” another person sneered, “He goes to Hogwarts same as all.”

“Because he spent his free time learning something worthwhile, rather than bullying muggleborns behind a shed,” I snapped, glaring. The crowd grew more and more irritated as I spoke.

“Look do you want to bloody well know how it works or should I just go?” I raised my eyebrows, glowering at all of them.

“How can we trust that he figured it out? Since he taught himself,” someone snorted.

“Because he proved it with arithmancy,” I shot back, “You can look over his work if you think you could understand it.”  Everyone grew silent again as I glared at them all.

“I will,” one lone voice stated angrily.

“Do you have arithmancy training, then?” I rolled my eyes.

“I do,” he snapped.

“Genetics training?” I smirked.

“No, but I’ll read.”

“Have fun,” I paused, “Any other questions?”

“Can you try to explain it yourself?” someone demanded.

“Certainly,” I paused, “Alright so your body is made up of cells – individual units of yourself that contain the instructions to build you. Got it? Great. In order to do magic, your cells need to tell themselves hey, let’s manipulate energy and matter in this weird ass way. To do that, it has to turn on _genes_ , which will make _proteins_ that will allow you to do this. Proteins are basically the building blocks of your cells, while genes are the blueprints. Everyone following?”

Everyone seemed to nod, which was a relief, as I had no idea how to explain this more simply.

“Well your cells aren’t _always_ making magic happen, so there needs to be a system that turns it off an on. I mean, it would be a waste of energy and materials to do that. So the stimulus to turn on magic has this elaborate system to turn it on and how much to turn it on. First, though, there’s the master controller. The instruction that says ‘is this possible at all?’ That is gene M.”

“Gene _capital_ M codes for a protein that basically tells your genes ‘no magic ever.’ As long as you have one copy of this gene, that protein will shut off all further magic genes and make you not able to use it whatsoever. So the only way to use magic? Not have capital M. And… crap,” I sighed, “Okay one more thing to explain – in almost all of our cells, we have two copies of our genes, okay? The only ones that don’t are our sperm and eggs so that when they combine to make a baby they _then_ have two copies. Does that make sense?”

There was muttering but I didn’t hear any non-understanding in there, so I kept going. My heart was in my throat and my mouth felt fairly dry.

“Okay so if you have at least one copy of capital M in your cells then you’re a muggle, that’s it, that’s the end of it. The other form of the gene is lower case m, which codes for a faulty version of the protein. It doesn’t do its job. But if you are big M and little m, you’re still a muggle, because you still have at least one copy of the protein that works. But if you have _two_ little ms, congratulations, you’re a wizard! Or witch. Or wixen. You know what I mean,” I rambled.

“So let’s say you have two muggles, both with only one copy of big M, and then one copy of little m,” I furthered, “Their sperm and egg cells each have a fifty fifty chance of having the big M or the little m. So then the odds of the combination of their sperm and egg that would become a little new person having only two little ms is the chance of the egg having the little m gene and the chance of the sperm having the little m gene multiplied together – so, one fourth. So this is how muggleborns happen. Got it? That’s it. That’s all there is to it.”

More confusion came up at this, but I had no idea how to explain basic genetics better, so I grimaced and continued on.

“As for the rest of the genes, they control how strong you are in magic. Muggles still _have_ these genes, they just don’t express them, so they can be as strong in magic use or as weak in magic use as any of us, they just can’t do it period. But that’s how there are plenty of muggleborns who are strong in magic,” I looked over at Hermione and grinned at her, and she grinned back, “Their ancestors were just carrying around those genes for them, that’s all.”

“Well how do those work?” the same person as before demanded.

“Capital P is kind of the master controller. It binds to the genes that create magic manipulating proteins and basically tells the cell to come and make them,” I explained as simply as I could, “If you have two copies of it, that works better than one – the two copies of the gene work together to amplify the signal. If you have none, you’re going to have a hard time – so both little p.”

“Now N and W work together,” I sighed, taking a deep breath, “Capital W is basically like – I’m going to say no to the whole transcribing magical genes thing. If P is around it’s harder for it to do that, but in the end it’s still going to make using magic difficult. If there’s more than one – so you’re two capital W’s – then you are _really_ going to have a hard time. But you might have a savior if you have capital N – this protein basically binds to the W protein and says ‘nope, we’re doing magic anyway’. You only need one copy of that for that to work – so two capital N’s and a capital N and a lower case n have the same effect. And that’s how those all work,” I frowned, “Any questions?”

“So what are squibs, then?” someone insisted.

“Squibs are those of us who have lost the genetic lottery – no capital Ps, both capital W’s, and no capital N. Little m little m little p little p capital W capital W little n little n. They can’t do magic because their cells block them at every turn. This is also why squibs are _way_ less common than muggle borns – It’s easy to have two muggle parents who both carry that little m gene; it’s a lot more complicated to have two wizard parents who have the right combination to make their child a squib.”

“So it’s the parents’ fault?” someone demanded.

“Of course not,” I rolled my eyes, “We don’t control our genes, for the love of Merlin.”

“How can you find out what genes you have?” someone insisted.

“I mean, you could probably find out if you wanted to, but do you really want to?” I raised an eyebrow, “Do you really want to obsess over your children and what they might be, or yourself? You know what you’re capable of, and you should have children with someone you care about, not someone you know will help you produce strongly magical children –“

“I refuse to believe muggles could be strong at magic!”

“Well, they’re not, they have that capital M gene –“

“We’re still not the same species! Your definition is ridiculous.”

“So you’re saying that people are different species because they have something different? What’s to stop someone from saying that red heads are a different species?” I snorted, “People keep trying to claim that different races are different species, that’s just as bad as this –“

“Maybe we are!”

“Okay, racism and eugenics all in one pleasant little rally,” I laughed, but I was without actual mirth, “Wow. Okay. No. We are all the same species, muggles carry magical genes, muggle borns can be as strong in magic as any pureblood, you should not breed strategically because that is actually _immoral_ , and fuck all of you to boot.”

“Why isn’t Neville talk about this himself?” someone asked shrewdly.

“Because he is bad at public speaking,” I shouted, “Get over it.”

“So does this actually change anything?” someone laughed.

“It means that we can’t keep fucking treating muggles as lesser than us! They’re the bloody same as us!” I shouted, “We’re all the fucking same! We can’t throw them to the lurch because they are with us – we are all one species – this stupid hierarchy has no actual basis! Muggleborns can be just as strong if not stronger magic users than purebloods and yet they’re marginalized and prejudiced against in our government! And for what? Some prejudice that Salazar Slytherin set up a thousand years ago? Do you even know how that started?”

People were angrily muttering and shouting at me but I ignored them.

“Scared muggles didn’t like all the magic that wixen were using on them and were starting to try and kill them because hey, sometimes magic is used against people and it’s not like they could fucking fight back, it was before they had complex technology like today, so they rose en masse and who can bloody well blame them! Wixen were basically playing with them for sport and games! So we all went into hiding and Slytherin was like ‘muggle borns can’t be trusted because they have muggle parents.’ Fast forward a thousand years and that prejudice – and unfair stereotyping, let’s be real – has somehow fucking translated to muggleborns are lesser, worse at magic, and generally worthless, and muggles are stupid for not knowing anything about magic! What the fuck is this? What the fuck is _wrong_ with all of you?”

The shouting was growing louder and angrier but I remained in my spot, glaring out at everyone.

“I mean it. You’re wrong. There is no actual basis for any of this. Muggleborns are great – often better – than fucking purebloods and you need to get over it. I’m done. If you have any questions about the science, write me a letter. If you have anything else to say, keep it to yourself.” I stepped away from the podium and walked away, people jeering and yelling at me as I walked by in a huff.

“That was awesome,” Harry laughed as we reached the Leaky Cauldron and walked out into the London street.

“Maggie, you could have been a little less –“ Hermione sighed.

“A little less what?” I challenged, turning around to glare at her.

“Abrasive?” she offered.

“No,” I stated simply, “These people have lost the privilege of my kindness.”

Neville wrapped his arms around me as we walked and squeezed tightly, planting a long and wet kiss on my forehead.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

“Anything for you, Neville,” I reassured quietly.

“Alright, let’s get this Ministry nonsense over with,” Lupin groaned.

“You really need to talk to Shae about your anxiety,” I rolled my eyes. Lupin glared at me but Shae grinned.

“I’ve actually been saying that for months, _thank you_ ,” she laughed.

“Argh,” Lupin grunted angrily, forcing himself forward as we all followed him into the Ministry. Stepping up to the desk, a different receptionist was there, smiling at us with a falsely sweet smile, much too wide, much too eager.

“Hello,” he greeted cheerfully. I rolled my eyes and looked away, glaring out into the crowd of people heading to work and ignoring us.

“Hello,” Sirius frowned, “Harry here needs to come in and get his badge changed.”

“And the rest of you are here for?” the man smiled wider.

“Moral support,” Hermione whispered quietly.

“I’m afraid he must go in alone. The rest of you are not authorized to be within the building,” the man somehow smiled even wider. I wanted to punch him in his teeth.

“I must insist that he is underage and should be accompanied by an adult,” Sirius said through gritted teeth.

“Fine. He may be accompanied by his legal guardian,” the receptionist responded cheerfully.

“That’s… er… me,” I frowned. Great.

“I must insist that I be the one to accompany him given that his legal guardian is barely older than him,” Sirius frowned.

“I’m afraid I cannot acquiesce this request –“ the man continued.

“It’s okay, they just want to make sure they can intimidate him as much as possible,” I smiled back at him, willing him to change his expression by being as creepy as possible, “And they know it’s easier to intimidate a seventeen year old girl than a middle aged man.”

“Oi –“ Sirius shouted.

“Early middle age,” I amended.

“That is not the reason at all,” the receptionist insisted, smiling in a visibly more strained way, “We simply cannot verify that this man is –“

“That’s bullshit and you know it. Sirius is Harry’s godfather,” I beamed, though I wanted to scream at him, “He is a secondary guardian. But it is alright, I will go.”

The man smiled wider, gave us both badges to enter, and instructed us to go to the correct hallway. As we were rushed through the Ministry away from the others, we looked back in fear over our shoulders. Neville looked pained, practically reaching out for me, and Hermione was leaning forward as though to chase after us. But we went on into the elevator and headed up to level 2 together. We reached the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and headed down together to a door marked BADGE ORGANIZATION AND REASSIGNMENT OFFICE. Harry knocked, looking at me nervously, as I frowned.

“Maybe this won’t be too bad?” I offered with a grimace. He rolled his eyes at me.

“Just a minute!” a voice shouted behind the door.

“How are things with Hermione?” I asked softly.

“Great,” he grinned instantly, visibly relaxing just at the mention, “She’s wonderful. I’m so much better and I’m so happy and I just – sorry.”

I laughed a little, “It’s okay. I’m really happy you’re happy.”

“I don’t know why I thought this wasn’t worth it I – I can’t imagine doing all this without her,” Harry whispered.

“So I take it you’re going to stay together as long as possible?” I offered, raising an eyebrow.

“Are you kidding?” Harry’s expression grew quite dreamlike, “I want to marry her.”

“You’re kidding,” I laughed.

“I am not,” Harry paused, “I wanted to marry her basically instantly… she just reminded me that was a poor idea.”

“Probably,” I grinned, “But I look forward to when you do.”

“I will spend the rest of my life with her,” Harry whispered seriously as the door started to jiggle open, “However long that may be.”

The door opened and a man I recognized opened it – the man who had examined my animagus form. My eyes widened in shock and I felt my body tense up in fear, but he ushered us in and I followed almost automatically. My heart was pounding loudly in my chest and I was sure to read the man’s nametag inside of the room – John Dawlish.

“Yes, Mr. Potter,” he began, acting like I wasn’t even in the room. Harry looked over at me in worry – I must have paled considerably.

“We have received numerous reports that you have fallen out of peak physical health,” he continued, reading over some notes, “And that you cannot no longer in good conscious be in the class of those Without Physical Disability.”

“Yeah, I figured as much, since it isn’t going away,” Harry rolled his eyes. I watched the proceedings like a hawk, never mind the fear that was threatening to completely take me over.

“Well, I will need to know the exact details of your disease for the record,” he said firmly. Harry let out a deep sigh and looked over at me – I nodded silently.

“Alright well I cough all the time, sometime for minutes at a time, and am unable to stop,” Harry frowned, “Occasionally during particularly violent coughs, I’ll cough up blood since I’ve agitated the wounds in my lungs. During vigorous activity, I cough more often. And, that’s it.”

“How did you acquire this condition?” Dawlish asked.

“Got hit with this curse by a Death Eater. We’re not sure what it is, hence, no one’s tried to come up with a counter spell,” Harry shrugged irritably.

“Hmm,” the Dawlish frowned, “Well, that means we cannot exactly say the long term consequences of this disability, I assume?”

“No, probably not,” Harry agreed gruffly.

“Then I’m afraid I’m going to have to classify this as a Major Disability. The guidelines for this are in this pamphlet,” Dawlish pulled out a brochure titled _WHAT THE BOXES MEAN: A GUIDE TO THE NEW BADGE SYSTEM AND WHY IT IS GOOD FOR OUR COUNTRY_. Harry took it, clearly trying to refrain from crumpling it into a ball.

“If you believe that you can have this designation changed based on the guidelines therein, please submit a request to the office,” he smiled, sending a chill through me.

“I will,” Harry frowned angrily.

“Now you will have to fill out this paperwork here, and I will have to ask your legal guardian some questions as well,” Dawlish continued, and I felt myself freeze up.

“What questions do you have?” I asked through gritted teeth.

“Just some standard questions about Mr. Potter’s disability,” Dawlish explained as he handed Harry the forms. Harry began writing rapidly on them, looking annoyed that we were still stuck here.

“Go ahead, then,” I frowned. I didn’t like being trapped here. I wanted to fly away.

“Would you say that his condition has been presented accurately?” Dawlish began.

“Yes,” I answered as quickly as possible.

“Would you claim that his condition has been lessening since its initiation?”

“It got a little better, but it really has remained constant,” I sighed, looking over at Harry sadly, “And when he exerts too much physical activity, it does in fact get worse.”

“Yes, yes,” Dawlish frowned, taking down some notes, “And so no gradual healing has been observed?”

“Not really, no,” I admitted softly.

“Would you say that this impacts his ability to contribute to society?”

“Not really,” I responded defensively, “He saved all of our lives at the most recent Hogwarts battle –“

“Did this exacerbate his condition?”

“Well, yes, but he got through it just fine,” I muttered.

“Hmm,” Dawlish wrote some things, “Hmm. Yes.”

“What are you writing down?” I asked angrily.

“That is none of your business, Miss Johnson.”

“Yes, it is, as his legal guardian, it is,” I said, knowing full well it was bullshit. Dawlish smiled wider.

“If you would like to have a private conference with me over this status change, by all means –“

“I’m good,” I said rapidly.

“Now now, you’re clearly showing concern for your brother –“

“No, it’s fine, really,” my hands were trembling at my sides and Harry noticed, writing down things faster and handing the sheet to Dawlish.

“I must insist –“

“No, thank you,” I responded firmly as Dawlish waved his wand over Harry and the box changed to red.

“In order to properly address your concerns, I must discuss this with you privately and –“

A loud knock issued on the door. Harry jumped in surprise as I ran to the door quickly, despite Dawlish beginning to protest behind me. Sirius walked in, folding his arms across his chest, and the others were behind me. I quickly ran to Neville and hugged him, relief flooding me as though I had jumped into the ocean.

“Have you finished this nonsense?” Sirius demanded.

“Mr. Black, you are not authorized to be –“

“Like hell I’m not,” Sirius snapped, “This is ridiculous. Maggie is barely an adult, certainly not on the same plane as you, this could hardly be considered a conference between adults. What exactly are you doing here?”

“Changing Mr. Potter’s status to having a Major Disability –“

“Fine, you’ve done that, why are they still here?”

“I was going to discuss with Miss Johnson the consequences of –“

I looked up at Neville and he looked down at me, and something in my expression told him everything he needed to know. Before anyone could say anything more he had dived forward and grabbed Dawlish by the scruff of his robes. I shouted in protest as Neville violently bashed Dawlish’s head into the surface of his desk before lifting it up, everyone else screaming in shock as the action was completed. Dawlish’s head was bleeding but he was still conscious, staring at Neville with wide eyes.

“You,” Neville snarled angrily, “Will fucking leave her alone.”

Dawlish nodded rapidly, blood pouring from the wound as he did so.

“You will not report this injury to anyone,” Neville continued in a low hiss, “You will not use it as further excuse to attack me or the people I care about it. You will not tell anyone.”

Dawlish nodded again, his eyes wide.

“If you do, I will come back, and you will regret it,” Neville growled, “You are lucky I am not doing more now, you disgusting pig. I have dirt on you and I will not hesitate to hurt you again, so you better fucking stay quiet.”

Dawlish started to look fairly faint as he nodded once more. Neville dropped him and stepped back, still glaring at him.

“Some adult type person, fix his forehead,” Neville muttered angrily. Lupin waved his wand immediately, glaring at Neville angrily as he did so.

“Let’s go. Harry’s badge is changed. I assume you need nothing more from us?” Neville asked, his glare increasing in intensity. Dawlish nodded rapidly and Neville left the office, the rest of us following him rapidly.

“Neville that was extremely reckless and dangerous –“

“I don’t care.”

“You have gotten us all into terrible trouble –“

“No I haven’t,” Neville stated dully as we walked into the elevator.

“How do you figure that, Neville?” Shae asked seriously, frowning at him as Lupin opened his mouth to reprimand him again.

“Because he’s the man who molested Maggie,” Neville stated simply. Hermione cried out in shock and horror and Harry roared in fury as the adults were left dumbfounded.

“I’m sure the action was instructed by Ministry members, but if it got out that this happened to her, the rebellion wouldn’t hesitate to burn this whole place down,” Neville laughed humorlessly, “So I doubt he will ignore my threat.”

“Neville –“ Lupin began as we left the Ministry, but Neville immediately turned around on his heels to face Lupin furiously.

“Don’t you fucking get it?” Neville shouted, not caring for the people on the street, “Don’t any of you just fucking get it?”

Lupin’s mouth immediately closed tightly.

“We’re not bloody children!” Neville roared, “We’re not. We’ve had to take care of ourselves for nearly two fucking years. Who fucking faced Voldemort in the graveyard when he returned? Harry. Who had to find, then took care of Maggie, and helped her return to the world after she was _bloody raped and tortured_? Me! Who had to fight Umbridge off to save all of our fucking skins? Maggie! Who _started a mother fucking rebellion that has prevented the Ministry from pulling all this shite again?_ HERMIONE! So just STOP. Just _fucking. Stop_. We will take care of our own problems and we’ll do it in our way. I’m going home.”

Neville stomped off and I quickly followed him, running with him to the Leaky Cauldron and flooing back to Hogsmeade. Hermione and Harry were on our tail, but they clearly weren’t going to try and stop us as we rushed back up to our room. Neville slammed the door behind him, huffing in fury before turning towards me. The chicks on the floor all cheeped extensively and scampered about in fear, making Blue hiss at us, but Neville wasn’t paying attention.

“I am so sorry,” Neville sighed, looking horrified, “I’m so sorry you were alone in a room with him again –“

“It’s okay, he didn’t try to do anything –“ I reassured.

“He clearly was going to if he was trying to have a private meeting with you –“

“I would have done what you told me, I promise,” I reassured.

“I know, I’m still sorry, so sorry –“

“Neville, it’s okay, I’m okay –“

“I am _sick of not being able to protect you_ –“

“You did protect me! And I was going to protect myself this time –“

“I’m worried I didn’t protect you enough –“

“Are you kidding me here, Nev, that was _fucking badass_.”

“What?” Neville looked shocked.

“Do you have _any_ idea how _ridiculously amazing_ what you did in there was?” I laughed, “You basically smashed his head open, I’m seriously amazed.”

“Well you dealing with the people at the rally was amazing I – I – I was overwhelmed –“ Neville stammered.

“Really?” I laughed weakly.

“Yeah,” Neville blushed furiously, “You were just so – intense and – and – _furious_ and it was amazing and you took no shit and you were so ridiculously gorgeous somehow with how angry and commanding you were and –“

“Well you were also strangely attractive when you attacked that man and shouted at him to leave me alone so I’m not arguing with that!” I laughed weakly.

“I just I – all of this was so – overwhelming – I –“ Neville stammered out. I ran forward and pulled him in for a long kiss, holding tightly to his face and pulling him in close to me. He squeaked in surprise and wrapped his arms tightly around me, squeezing me as I moved my lips furiously against his.

**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**

I pulled him on top of me on the bed and kissed him furiously and rapidly, my lips moving against his as roughly as I could manage. Neville gripped me tightly in his arms and responded with equal vigor, pressing me tightly into the bed and attacking my lips. My heart pounded in my ears again but in a good way as I reached for his robes and forced him off of him, him doing the same to me as I reached to rip off his shirt.

“Wait wait wait,” Neville panted. I looked at him in annoyance, my hand already reaching for a birth control potion from the drawer.

“A,” Neville frowned, “Shouldn’t you be having your period soon, Hermione’s started this morning and she was right cross about it –“

“I think I’m still good, we’re synced up but not exactly,” I frowned.

“Okay, and then, B,” Neville paused, “I’ve had a fantasy for a long time –“

“Okay?” I laughed, reaching for the potion and drinking it in one gulp.

“Yeah, remember when you teased me by not wearing any knickers and we went at it on the counter in the bathroom?” Neville asked.

“I do, yes,” I grinned.

“At the time, and ever since, I’ve imagined having, you know, heteronormative sex with you on the counter like that,” Neville grinned back at me. I immediately stood up and dragged him into the bathroom, making sure that no little bird chicks had followed us as I closed the door behind us. Neville immediately helped me onto the counter, pulling off my clothes rapidly as I helped him out of his. He left on my skirt and immediately began pressing his face into my breasts, kissing them rapidly and wetly as I dug my fingers into his hair and held tightly to him. He groaned softly and stepped up closer to the counter, looking at me lustfully as I spread my legs wide and wrapped them around his waist. He gripped my body tightly and pulled me close to him, diving his penis into me hard and rapidly as I cried out loudly. I gripped his shoulders at the force of it and moaned happily, kissing him heavily as I started rocking my hips against his. He started thrusting roughly in and out of me as his tongue wrapped tightly around mine, sucking on it tightly as his hands gripped my hips.

I groaned loudly and rammed my hips into his, reveling at the feeling of him filling me up so hard and fast. He growled into my ear and sucked on my neck, making me whimper louder. I reached behind to grab his buttocks and I forced him deeper into me, making both of us scream each other’s names in unison. He trailed kisses back up to my lips and sucked heavily on my lower one, making me whimper as I rubbed myself heavily and needfully against him. We continued to rapidly hump against each other, moaning and crying out loudly as we did so. I clawed at his back and he gripped my hips so tightly I worried they’d bruise, kissing each other heavily and rapidly as he dove in and out of me. I gasped out as he sucked roughly on my breasts and reached into my skirt to rub my clit, making me shiver more as he roughly pounded me into the counter.

I wrapped my legs tighter around his waist and squeezed tightly, pulling him in so deep inside me he could barely move out anymore. He whimpered loudly at that and stared at me through heavy lidded, lustful eyes, his hips wiggling around in between my legs desperately. I grinned at him and rubbed my body against his, my naked torso moving across his as he groaned and growled needfully. I clawed at his back and dug my fingers into his hair, pulling him in for a long kiss again as he groaned my name into my mouth. He now pounded deeper and deeper inside of me, driving me nuts as I pulled away from his kiss and leaned against the mirror. I moaned at the top of my lungs, overwhelmed with pleasure as he got deeper and deeper into me, driving me absolutely crazy as I gripped his shoulder slightly.

He continued to pound more into me, getting so deep that I couldn’t bare it anymore. I rubbed myself rapidly against him, my hips moving erratically back and forth against him as I reveled at the feeling of him inside of me. I couldn’t help but wiggle about around him, gasping and whimpering as he pressed against my walls and stretched them out. He growled at that and just went into me harder, him so hard and full inside of me that I could barely comprehend how amazing it felt. My nails dug into his shoulders and he gasped softly, me grimacing at him apologetically. He just grinned in response and went even harder, making me claw at him so roughly that I knew I had drawn blood. He whimpered at that and his movement got even more erratic, making me rub against him as fast as I could.

He pounded harder and harder and thrust so roughly that I couldn’t hold on anymore, finally exploding around him so rapidly and violently that I screamed his name into his ear. He groaned and finally released himself, hot liquid shooting inside of me as he shivered against me and whispered my name softly into my lips. We were both left panting, staring at each other and laughing weakly as he gently stroked my sweaty hair out of my face.

“I love you,” he laughed weakly.

“I love you,” I smiled at him, pulling him in for a kiss by his shoulders. He breathed in air sharply and I grimaced in apology.

“It’s okay,” Neville chuckled softly, “That was sexy at the time.”

“I definitely am very sore right now,” I continued, giggling a little.

“And covered in sweat and – er – sorry about the mess down below,” Neville giggled. He was slowly pulling out of me and I could feel how much he had came inside me, making me feel fairly sticky as a result.

“Thanks for that,” I laughed, “I think we both need showers, since you’re covered in sweat and… fluids.”

“Including my own blood,” Neville grinned.

“You’re going to find an excuse for someone to see that aren’t you,” I laughed.

“The scars are meant to be shown off!” Neville giggled. I rolled my eyes and kissed him, pulling him in with me to the shower.

**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**~~**

Sadly, the next day was another rally, this time in Dublin, and he didn’t really have a chance to show off his new scars to anyone.

“Alright, these people are going to be hostile,” Lupin said in a very businesslike voice, clearly still put out from Neville’s shouting the day before, “So keep a look out.”

“Yeah, I will,” I nodded.

“Articles in the Daily Prophet haven’t been too happy with what you said yesterday, so they’re going to bring it up,” Sirius agreed.

“I’m ready,” I acknowledged. Neville looked worried again, gripping my shoulder tightly as we walked up to the square together.

“You’re going to be okay, Mags?” Harry asked softly.

“Yes,” I nodded. I even pulled my wand out, holding it tightly behind the podium as I stared out into the angry crowd. People were shouting and jeering at me, but I didn’t care again. I glared at them all, ready for their bullshit and stupidity.

“Are you here to tell us we’re equal with muggles again?” someone shouted angrily.

“Yes,” I responded, absolutely furiously.

“What the fuck is wrong with you? There is clearly a difference between muggles and –“

“Yeah, that difference is a single protein, you dumbass,” I snorted, “That protein means nothing.”

“What’s next? Giving all wizards that protein so magic no longer exists? Taking that protein away from muggles?” someone laughed cynically.

“I doubt anyone would want to do that,” I snorted.

“You’re just asking to remove the statute of secrecy like your loony brother –“

“I’m saying nothing of the sort, though I fucking agree with him, since this is all bullshit,” I hissed.

“We have to preserve our way of life!”

“I don’t give a crap about our way of life! I give a shit about human dignity you wanker.”

“Muggles aren’t human!”

“Do you literally not listen to anything I say?”

“She’s going to ruin everything!”

“Her and all of her little friends are!”

“They’re spreading nasty, dirty lies!”

“I bet they made the whole thing up!”

“Fuck off!” I managed to interject before anyone shouted again.

“You fuck off!

“You come into our city and spread these bloody lies!”

“How did wizards happen then if we’re just weird muggles?”

“We’re all fucking human! You might as well ask how red hair fucking happened you dumbass! Natural selection, evolution, whatever, we’re still looking into that –“ I shouted.

“We are not the same species as muggles!”

“Yes, you bloody well are!” I roared.

Everyone was shouting at me and a curse flew up from the crowd; I dove behind the podium, though it was only a stunner, and I immediately jumped back up. I pulled out my wand and shot it in the direction the stunner had come from, shouting “ _Expelliarmus!_ ” at the top of my lungs. A wand came flying towards me and I caught it in my hand furiously, glaring out at the crowd.

“You want to fucking go, you jackass?” I roared.

“He’s not the only one who will fight you –“

“ENOUGH,” Neville screamed. He finally came up to the podium, staring out at everyone furiously.

“Stop attacking her,” Neville hissed, “I’m the one who figured it out. Take up your ignorant, bigoted problems with me.”

He looked over at me and I nodded at him, violently throwing the wand back into the crowd. The person didn’t catch it – my aim was terrible, anyway – and it fell to the cobbled ground with a clatter. Neville looked back out at the crowd, glaring at it furiously.

“You’re all terrible. Congratulations. Any questions?” he hissed.

“How can you prove what you’re claiming?”

“I can because of what I wrote in the damn Quibbler. It’s not my bloody fault that you don’t understand arithmancy,” Neville laughed.

“Try to explain it then!”

“FINE,” Neville shouted, and immediately began explaining, his knuckles white against the podium. I held my wand aloft, staring out into the crowd vigilantly.

It was better for him to explain it, but I would damn sure defend it. As he would for me.

No one would hurt either of us anymore.

Not if we could help it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lack of updating guys - I actually took a break to reread the story. I have to do that from time to time to avoid continuity errors and to make sure I don't forget things - just rereading it I noticed a bunch of stuff like that. Also, I didn't get many comments, which really impacts my writing. I seriously get discouraged without feedback and I do not feel like writing, that's just how it goes. So please comment! Thank you all, and I'm sorry for the very explanatory chapter, I figured it was necessary both within the plot and outside of it, since a lot of you didn't understand the genetics much. I did my best. Thanks, and please comment!


	125. Chapter One Hundred and Twenty Three: February 3 - 9, 1997, Hogwarts & Aberdeen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "There's a big storm comin'   
> and i don't care 
> 
> There's a big storm comin'   
> and i don't care 
> 
> So ooh, baby   
> just gimme my ticket to hell 
> 
> There's a high tide rising   
> and i don't mind 
> 
> There's a high tide rising, yeah   
> and i don't mind 
> 
> So ooh, baby   
> just gimme my ticket to hell 
> 
> So ooh, baby   
> just gimme my ticket to hell."   
> ~ Fox, "High Tide Rising"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW For slurs and violent content

Chapter 123: February 3 – 9, 1997, Hogwarts and Aberdeen

Neville started writing daily for the Quibbler, talking about the genetics and what it meant. He stayed up late every night for weeks on end, writing as much as he could each night to send in articles for people to read. But I didn’t mind; I was proud of him for working so hard and I happily held him as he wrote, scratching his chin and cheeks and face lovingly to keep his spirits up.

“You need more sleep,” Hermione commented thoughtfully midway through the week, looking at Neville’s exhausted façade as he sat down to breakfast again.

“Shove off,” Neville muttered, sending in another article with Darwin as more and more letters came in. Harry grabbed all the letters and shuffled off to throw them immediately into the fire without even opening them up.

“You probably should put out an announcement that you aren’t taking letters, for those who approve,” Hermione continued thoughtfully.

“Probably,” Neville agreed, sighing, “I’ll write another thing tonight.”

“I, personally, think you should sleep instead,” Harry joked, sitting across from us again. Hermione rested her head happily on his chest as he wrapped his arm around her shoulder, holding her in close to him. He kissed the top of her head and I grinned to myself happily.

“Sleep is for people who aren’t trying to change an entire country’s perception of itself,” Neville yawned, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

“Well I’ve just been working on the _Suchomimus_ ,” I shrugged, “I think I’m starting? To get the anatomy down but it’s been… hard.”

“If anyone can do it, it’s you,” Hermione said cheerfully.

“Thanks for that,” I rolled my eyes.

“Besides, Hermione, I have to have the whole theory locked up tight before Saturday,” Neville stated matter of factly, “If I don’t, people might call out holes in the theory. I mean there was that one man who was going to check on my work –“

“It’ll take him longer than a week, surely?”

“I have to be prepared for every possibility,” Neville stated firmly, scribbling madly on another piece of paper.

“But you have actual classes!”

“Do we?”

“He has a point,” Harry chortled and Hermione’s furious expression.

“I can’t,” Hermione groaned, rolling her eyes and holding her head in her hands.

“Hey, just think about that pamphlet they gave Harry at the Ministry instead!” I said cheerfully. Hermione glared at me, her hands crunching up into fists.

“I still can’t get over that. It’s necessary to identify people by religion because some religions inspire violence and untrustworthy behavior? How anti-Semitic and islamophobic can you _possibly get?_ ” she shrieked.

“We know,” the three of us said in unison.

“I just – I’ve lived my whole life in fear of another Holocaust and now it’s happening before my eyes and I can do _nothing_ ,” Hermione screamed, holding her face in her hands. Harry wrapped his arms tightly around her, squeezing her closer to him in comfort.

“Look, if they come to take you away, we’re running – no other things necessary, we’re just, going,” Harry murmured softly.

“How will Dumbledore react to that?” I asked dully.

“I really couldn’t give a shit. He gave me this assignment to get this memory from Slughorn and I’ve gotten _nowhere_ with it whatsoever!” Harry grunted, “I wish he would give me more bloody _help!_ ”

“Then ask him that?” Neville offered tiredly.

“I’ll try,” Harry grunted, “But I doubt it’ll help at all.”

“You don’t know until you do, love,” Hermione murmured softly.

“Easy for you to say,” Harry grunted in annoyance, poking angrily at his toast, “I’m just so tired. Of everything.”

“Aren’t we all,” I nodded in agreement.

“Any other news of what’s happening out there in the magical wonderful world of a Rebellion that is not making any progress whatsoever?” Neville asked dully.

“Hey now, the trans clinics have been doing well!” Hermione protested.

“That’s fair,” Neville acknowledged, “I just… I dunno. I feel like there’s more that they could be doing?”

“Like what?” Ron asked next to us, his mouth full of food, him glaring. Kat was sitting across from him, looking at us all thoughtfully, with that expression she had when she was listening intently.

“I just mean the support for nonbinary genders is rather lacking, that’s all,” Neville clarified.

“What could we do? We provide hormones to people who want them –“

“Education?” Neville offered, “Talking about the different types of nonbinary identities that exist, and how the gender binary is harmful in general, stuff about gender stereotypes and how they can be broken, that sort of thing I guess.”

“Hmm,” Ron frowned, “Yeah, you probably have a point. I can get to work on that a bit if you want.”

“I can help too, but I’m afraid I don’t’ know all that’s out there. Maggie basically mentioned the existence of agenderness and I realized that it fit perfectly,” Neville admitted sheepishly, “My story is not the story of everyone.”

“Most people have no idea at all,” Kat agreed quietly.

“I’m sorry,” Neville frowned.

“It’s okay,” Kat sighed, “It’s just been so confusing ever since that great Bitch decided to shatter my perception of myself.”

“She liked to shatter lots of things,” I agreed, “It was sort of her thing.”

“What fun memories these have turned into,” Ron rolled his eyes, “I have to go out to check on the clinics up in the North with Luna.”

“How are things with your cuddle buddy?” Harry grinned.

“Good,” Ron stuck his tongue out at Harry, “You nosy tosser.”

“What?” Harry teased, snorting to himself.

“Seriously your ace aro mate has someone to cuddle with and you act like the entire universe has imploded,” Ron rolled his eyes.

Harry snorted and chuckled to himself as Ron flicked him in the forehead before walking away. Hermione rolled her eyes and nestles closer to Harry, nuzzling against his arm.

“Good god, why are you two being too adorable,” Neville fake gagged, making me snigger.

“Because you two had your turn for an entire year and now it’s ours?” Harry offered.

“Fair point,” I amended.

“But we’re not _done_ being cute!” Neville protested.

“Well make room for the new sheriffs in town,” Hermione giggled.

“Bloody hell,” I laughed.

“Let’s just go to class. Remember? We have that,” Hermione teased.

“Wait, we do?” Ernie asked, walking up behind us and grinning, “I thought we just had to plot rebellious activities during the day hours.”

“Thank you for your help, oh wise and studious prefect,” Hermione rolled her eyes.

“Wait,” Neville looked up, “We’re still prefects.”

“Fucking –“

“Hermione just dropped an F bomb!” I gasped.

“Oh god,” Ernie joined in.

“It’s the end of days. It is _decidedly_ the end of days,” Harry groaned.

“You lot are ridiculous.”

“Speaking of general duties,” Ginny stated calmly, walking up to us and looking at us seriously, “Two things.”

“Oh no,” Harry frowned.

“Yup,” Ginny nodded, “There haven’t been attacks on the castle in ages.”

“I know but –“

“We should try to have a practice –“

“But McGonagall formally cancelled Quidditch!”

“Yeah, and we might want to have a match to lift spirits up, that’s what she said herself when she canceled it, ‘if we go a while without the castle being attacked –‘”

“Argh. Fine. Schedule it for tomorrow. See if I care,” Harry grunted in annoyance.

“Since when do you not want to play Quidditch, mate?” Neville asked in shock.

“Since I became an invalid,” Harry stated gruffly, getting up and stomping out of the room. Ginny looked horrified with herself as Hermione frowned at us all apologetically, running after Harry quickly.

“That’s not good,” I sighed.

“No,” Ginny agreed, “I hadn’t even thought of that.”

“Maybe don’t have the practice?” Ernie sighed.

“But I…” Ginny frowned, “Yeah, maybe not.”

“No,” I shook my head, “If you cancel it now he’ll just be more upset. He’ll know you cancelled it for him.”

“Great,” Ginny sighed, “Just… great. See you lot later.”

I watched her go with a frown, looking back at Ernie and Neville in worry.

“I do enjoy when casual conversation makes things worse. I wonder what the other thing about responsibility she was going to talk about?” Ernie asked thoughtfully.

“I’m not sure,” I agreed.

“Oh,” Ginny ran back, “Right, sorry –“

“Huzzah! The mystery will be solved!” Ernie cheered.

“Neville, we need to do another special thing for Alliance, I understand the parade was a disaster but we should have another party or something? To lift people’s spirits I think?” Ginny offered.

“Yeah, go right ahead, I’ll approve whatever you plan,” Neville agreed.

“Thanks!” Ginny nodded, running away again.

“Is it just me or is she all over the place lately?” Ernie asked.

“It’s not just you,” Neville sighed.

“She’s been more scatterbrained since the Nadia debacle,” I agreed.

“That’s… not good,” Ernie groaned.

“No,” I nodded.

“It’s not,” Neville said.

“Well then,” Ernie frowned, “This has been fun, but I suppose we should go to class?”

“We have that?” Neville teased. Ernie stuck his tongue out at him as we all got up and left together, going through the motions and learning but not feeling like we were totally present.

That evening we all went to the Room of Requirement, waiting for Ron and Luna to return after visiting the Aberdeen trans clinic, though it was much later than we thought they would be back.

“So Dean is trying to pigeonhole me into a box,” Seamus stated matter-of-factly.

“Oh bloody hell,” Dean groaned, holding his face in his hands.

“This should be good,” Nadia grinned, looking more cheerful than I had seen her since the break up. She was far away from Ginny, though, which may have contributed to it – Ginny was talking quietly with Claire, Elena, Kat, and Pete in the corner.

“Trouble in paradise?” I asked seriously, sniggering to myself.

“Look, if Alicia and Katie succeed in their quest I’d like to get married straightaway! What’s wrong with that?” Dean demanded.

“Marriage is a social construct design to persecute women and LGBTQIA+ indivduals and is not necessarily something I want to take part in!” Seamus shouted back.

“Yes but Seamus, without marriage we don’t have many protections or legal status, and what if one of us gets hurt and is in the Hospital?” Dean demanded.

“Then we’ll figure it out, but I don’t want to partake in this outdated and horrifying institution!” Seamus snorted.

“Alright, what do you all think about this?” Dean grunted in annoyance, turning to all of us.

“I agree with Seamus about marriage being terrible,” I stated firmly, “But I also agree that we’re in a war and sometimes political statements are not luxuries we can take.”

“So you and Neville are going to get married then?” Seamus demanded.

“Yeah, eventually,” Neville shrugged.

“Even though they’ll call you a boy?” Seamus continued.

“Yeah, I can deal with it for a day,” Neville agreed.

“Then why haven’t you already?” Seamus snorted.

I looked over at Neville in embarrassment and we both blushed at each other.

“it’s because you don’t actually want to!” Seamus continued, “You secretly want to avoid it –“

“Oh bloody hell, it’s because we’re still in school and we don’t want to give McGonagall a heart attack!” I rolled my eyes.

“Then why do we have to give her one, Dean?” Seamus frowned at him. Dean groaned softly.

“Because I’m more paranoid than the most danger prone people on the planet, apparently, why can’t you humor me on this?”

“Because I don’t like marriage!”

“Do you like me?”

“I _love_ you! Come off it!”

“Look,” Hermione rolled her eyes, “Marriage is an oppressive social construct, you’re right. But in the end it doesn’t have to be for _you_. For you, it can just be the two of you, pledging your commitment to one another – which you clearly have in droves – and vowing to keep each other safe. You’re not going to take down the entire institution – which is more than just wixen, it’s also a problem for muggles, so you’re _really_ not going to take it down – with just one boycott, okay?”

Seamus frowned heavily, looking downtrodden.

“Please, Seamus?” Dean murmured softly, looking over at him earnestly, “Please?”

Seamus sighed, looking back at Dean, “I’ve taken a bunch of risks on you already, I suppose.”

“So you’re saying –“

“Yeah, fine, I’ll marry you,” Seamus sighed again.

“Oh come off it, can it be more enthusiastic than that? For me?” Dean frowned.

“Then you actually propose! Bloody hell!” Seamus was flushing madly.

We all watched them expectantly as they sat there, not doing much of anything.

“What, now? In front of all of you?” Dean squeaked.

“Yes!” we all shouted together.

“I – oh – fine!” Dean squeaked again, getting down on one knee, “Seamus Finnegan, will you – uh – I should say more than this but all of our mates are watching –“

“We don’t mind!” Ernie giggled.

“Fine,” Dean blushed even more, “Seamus, I love you more than anything, ever, in the entirety of this universe. You make me laugh and smile and feel safe when I go to sleep. We’ve had our fights and our separations and each time they make me realize how much I actually cannot live without you. There’s no one else in this world I’d want to charge into battle with, fight a revolution with, or wake up in the morning with. I know that this isn’t ideal for you and it wasn’t what you imagined for yourself, but, I like to think that our love is worth it. So please, will you, uh…” Dean cleared his throat, “Will you marry me?”

Seamus was blushing furiously as we all watched and grinned like maniacs, “Oh, yes, yes I will Dean, you… adorable wanker.”

Dean grinned wider and they kissed passionately, probably too passionately, as they transitioned into snogging even though we were all there.

“Well that was unexpected for this evening,” Harry snorted.

 “I feel as though _stranger_ things have happened?” Hermione offered.

“Eh, we saw them get together in the first place,” Neville shrugged, “This has been our roller coaster too.”

“Yes but I don’t need to see this any longer, please, stop,” Hermione groaned, whacking Dean in the arm even though he was basically lying on top of Seamus at this point. Dean flicked Hermione off and she harrumphed in horror, opening her mouth to shout at them as the door to the Room of Requirement opened.

Ron and Luna hobbled in, both looking the worse for wear.

“What happened?” Ginny demanded, immediately getting to her feet and running to the, “Are you okay? What – what happened – what –“

“Aberdeen was attacked,” Luna whispered, tears leaking from her eyes.

“We were minding our own business, just, you know, helping organize the clinic,” Ron wheezed out, but he clearly was in a lot of pain talking. Ginny helped him to a seat and held his hand tightly, tears leaking from her eyes.

“And some Backlash – horrible – jerks – just – came inside and started attacking everyone! They shot all sorts of terrible curses and had these clubs that they were using to attack poor innocent people and there were children there too and they got beat up and I think – I don’t know – we evacuated people but I think some people might have died!” Luna sobbed.

“The building was blown up, for clarification,” Ron coughed out.

Everyone started shouting in fury and horror together, me holding my mouth in my hands.

“That’s it, I’m going to Aberdeen on Saturday,” Neville stated firmly.

“Are you mad?” Ron coughed out, clearly having inhaled a substantial amount of dust and debris from the building collapsed.

“Probably,” Neville acknowledged, “Well, okay, I know I am. But I have to. That place has long been one of the worst – remember that barkeep –“

“He’s still there, and he hates us,” Luna sighed.

“I think,” Ron coughed, “I saw him lead the charge into the trans clinic.”

“That settles it,” Neville nodded, “I’m going to go there and I’m going to talk to everyone and I don’t give a bloody rat’s arse about what happens.”

I looked at him nervously, but swallowed. I knew that he was right.

Still, the problems only went from bad to worse. The next day, I sat in my room with Neville, helping him refine his speech for the coming Saturday, when Harry and Hermione walked in. Harry looked absolutely terrible; he was pale, his lips had blood dribbling out the corners, and he sat on our bed and held his face in his hands.

“What is it?” I asked, terrified, “What happened now?”

“Oh… this isn’t… this is…” Hermione was crying too, sitting next to Harry and wrapping her arms tightly around his shoulders. The baby raptors all immediately ran up to them, peeping and climbing onto their limbs and bodies in comfort. Harry held quite a few of them in his hands, enjoying their warmth as they cuddled up against his face. Penny joined Hermione and nestled in her arms, chirping softly in comfort.

“Practice went badly,” she finally forced out, looking horrifically sad.

“Oh no,” Neville whispered.

“I can’t play Quidditch anymore,” Harry mumbled, holding the baby floofs up closer to him.

“Oh _no_ ,” I groaned.

“The flying was too much exertion for him. Maybe if he had time to heal he could play again, but right now, with the war, and everything going on, he just – he’s not going to heal enough to – and –“ Hermione sobbed, holding her arms around Harry tightly.

“I’m never going to be able to again. Let’s face it,” Harry coughed weakly, wiping the blood off of his sleeve. Hermione pulled out a blood replenishing potion – one of their favorite treatments at this point, to be honest – and he drank it in one gulp.

“Let’s face it,” Harry continued, looking dejected, “This war will drag on, and render my lungs beyond repair.

Hermione cried harder, holding him tightly.

“We’ll figure it out,” I whispered softly.

“And if we don’t?” Harry shook his head, “I better get used to the idea now.”

“But it’s one of your favorite things,” Neville murmured sadly.

“Yeah, and lots of things are given up when shit happens. Maggie used to love pranking people, she doesn’t do that anymore,” Harry shrugged sadly, “Hermione used to love to just read random huge books from the library, but she doesn’t have time for that anymore. And you used to just… avoid everyone?”

“Thanks for that,” Neville rolled his eyes, “But I see your point.”

“Shit happens,” Harry sighed, “I’ll get over it.”

Hermione cried harder, holding her face against Harry’s arm.

“I hope that you’re wrong,” I stated honestly.

“I’m not going to let myself hope for that,” Harry muttered softly.

“Well we’ll do the hoping for you, mate,” Neville insisted. I sat next to them and held my arms tightly around Harry, and Neville wrapped his arms around all of us. We pulled the other two fully onto the bed with us, all curling around each other – Neville spooning around me, me resting my head on Harry’s chest, Harry holding his arm tightly around Hermione, who was also resting her head on his chest, just on the other side. The raptors all joined us in the bed, even the babies, who nestled up near our heads. I looked behind me at Neville and he kissed me softly on the cheek, staring back at me sadly.

“I just wish this hadn’t happened,” Harry murmured after a while.

“You survived,” Hermione responded quietly, “That was probably more than we could have hoped for.”

“And I’m glad I did,” Harry agreed quietly, “I just wish that… I don’t know. I just wish it hadn’t happened.”

“Well you lived,” Neville murmured, “You lived, and you got to be with Hermione –“

Harry turned to Hermione and smiled at her, the two of them kissing softly and lovingly.

“And you’re still hanging out with us weirdos, and you’re helping to save the world, and it’ll be okay,” Neville finished.

“How can you know that?” Harry asked softly.

“Because it has to be,” Neville paused.

“It doesn’t –“

“No I mean – look – we can’t know what the future holds. Divination is crap,” Neville paused, “But – if we don’t have hope – then we’re doomed anyway. Without hope, we have no chance of winning. But with hope… with hope we might make it through. And I’d like for there to at least be a _chance_.”

Harry nodded, smiling weakly over at him, “Yeah. Yeah, you’re right.”

“We can get through this,” Hermione agreed softly.

“Together,” I reaffirmed.

“We’re one big happy family,” Neville laughed soflty.

“Team Potter!” Hermione giggled.

“Oh bloody hell –“ Harry groaned.

“it’s back,” Neville agreed.

“We’re never going to escape it,” I lamented.

“Oh it’s a perfectly fine name! You all are being mean on purpose!” Hermione whined.

“No, it’s a terrible name, and you know it love,” Harry shook his head.

“It’s a fine name!”

“No!” we all responded in unison, giggling together. Hermione rolled her eyes and nestled against Harry’s chest, closing her eyes softly. I didn’t even mind, and soon enough, the four of us all fell asleep next to each other, making me feel happy and loved and safe, despite all the terribleness.

And so, that Saturday, the four of us left with a large group of Order Members for Aberdeen. Shae, Tonks, Lupin, Sirius, Bill, Adie, Mrs. MacMillan, Pacifique, and McGonagall all came with us, even though the latter made me nervous.

“Are you sure you don’t have papers to mark or something?” I asked nervously.

“I’m absolutely sure, Miss Johnson, you and your friends need me with you to make sure these… people… don’t do anything,” McGonagall frowned heavily.

“But –“ I protested.

“Miss Johnson,” McGonagall sighed, “I understand your concern, but I must accompany you.”

I nodded, sighing softly as we took the floo to the pub in Aberdeen. The bartender looked up at us and sneered heavily, his face contorted into an expression of pure hatred.

“Get out of my –“

“We’re leaving,” Sirius snapped.

 “I don’t want you f*****s and weirdos and queers being in my pub –“

“Oh my god, we’re leaving!” Neville shouted in fury, “Get over yourself!”

“No, you freak!” the man shouted back, “Pretendin’ to be a girl –“

“I’m not pretending to be a girl! Or pretending to be anything!”

“You claim you’re not a boy and there is nothing else!”

“Oh my god!” Neville screamed, “Leave me alone! Just! Just leave me alone!”

“GET OUT OF MY PUB!”

“WE WOULD HAVE JUST LEFT HAD YOU NOT SCREAMED AT US!” Neville roared.

“Neville, mate –“ Harry whispered, grabbing Neville’s arm, but he shrugged Harry off.

“I AM NOT A BOY, OR A GIRL, AND GET OVER IT!” Neville roared, diving for the bartender. The bartender whirled back to punch Neville, hard, in the face, making me scream and dive at him. I wrapped my hands around his throat as Sirius pulled me off of him, me screaming and writhing about in Sirius’ arms.

“Let – me – go!” I shouted angrily.

“No! We’re leaving! Come on!” Sirius hissed.

I thrashed about furiously until we were lead out into the Wixen square, Sirius basically dropped me. I grunted in fury and turned back to Neville, who was now supporting a black eye. I sighed and reached up to stroke his cheek, crying a little bit with him as tears leaked furiously from his eyes.

“Should we cancel?” Hermione asked nervously.

“No,” Lupin shook his head, “After what happened on Wednesday, no. You should speak here. It would do good.”

“That’s a different perspective from you,” Harry frowned.

“Neville had a point,” Lupin stated simply, leading us up to the podium. Neville stood up, looking out over the crowd, wiping the tears from his eyes. I stood next to him, holding my wand tightly in my hands, my eyes scanning the group of hateful people like a hawk. Some people had lightening bolts on their foreheads, but most clearly had ministry loyal badges on their arms.

“Crying, you f*****?” someone in the crowd asked. I waved my wand immediately and the individual fell to the ground, my stunner having been aimed fairly well.

“Is that enough of that?” I stated in a hiss.

“HE’S A FREAK! AND A F******! NO ONE IS NEITHER A BOY OR A GIRL!” someone roared.

“You’re wrong,” I stated simply, before stunning her too. People were milling about nervously, clearly terrified at my lack of sympathy or hesitation.

“Why should we let this freak of nature speak to us?” another person demanded.

“Because he’s not a freak of nature, you’re a terrible person, and he’s smarter than you,” I stated calmly, before waving my wand again and muttering stupefy. This person fell to the ground as well as the crowd started protesting my brutal approach.

“Get over it,” I frowned, “Are we done now?”

People nodded, and Neville started speaking, though it was clear no one was listening to what he said. Harry and Hermione were pacing behind me, clearly watching the crowd, as I started to stare down at my fraying trainers. I needed new ones, but I was nervous about spending money. It was hard to know what spending was justified and what wasn’t when you didn’t really have an income, and who knew what Elena would need in the coming years as she started to grow taller and go through more of the painful bits of puberty –  

“There’s been an Azkaban breakout!”

My head snapped up and I looked into the crowd in shock, my heart clenching in fear. Pacifique was running up to the stage and Neville stopped talking, looking over at him in shock.

“There’s been a breakout,” Pacifique panted, “We have to get out of here, now.”

“Where is Azkaban relative to here?” I asked, frowning, “They shouldn’t be that immediate of a threat, right?”

“Azkaban’s island is _quite_ close to here, and everyone knows you’re giving a rally today,” Pacifique explained in a rush, “They could get here very easily –“

“How would _they_ know we were giving a rally today?” Neville frowned.

“All they would have to do is reach any wixen paper, they’re not hard to come by –“

“Who, exactly, broke out?” I asked firmly.

“ _Everyone_.”

“No one’s in Azkaban anymore?!” I shrieked.

“They’re all out and at large. Ministry Aurors are trying to round them up but –“

“They’re going to focus on Death Eaters, Neville,” I turned to him in fear, “We have to run.”

“We have to run to the floo and get back to Hogwarts,” he agreed, “Let’s –“

“STUPEFY!”

An individual in ratty robes who I didn’t recognize shot a stunner up on the podium. I dove behind the podium and dragged Neville with me, shrieking in shock and pulling him off of the podium rapidly. Harry and Hermione ran away and we tried to follow them, but the chaos of the rally goers was too much – everyone was screaming and running about each way. I grabbed Neville’s hand and refused to let go of it, dragging him with me in the general direction that Harry and Hermione had gone.

“Where are we going?” he screamed, running with me as fast as he could. His feet were hitting the pavement hard and I wanted to help him move faster, but there wasn’t any time.

“Anywhere!” I shouted back, moving as quickly as possible between the buildings of the city. I bobbed and weaved with him from alleyway to alleyway, stumbling out to a larger street where cars were rushing past ridiculously fast.

“Maggie we’re trapped –“ Neville protested, his hand holding mine so tight I was worried he was going to cut off circulation to it. I dragged him to the nearest crossing and sped across it before a car could hit us, running off into the woods across the way.

We dove in between the trees and ran through them as fast as we could, Neville panting heavily behind me as I dragged him deeper into the small forest. I slid down some dirt and ran to a clump of bushes near a long log; I pulled him with me into the bushes and collapsed, sitting against the dirt.

“Now… what?” Neville panted out, looking at me in terror.

“I don’t know,” I shook my head, “We should… I don’t know? Run? Keep running?”

“Until _what?_ ” Neville demanded, looking terrified, “There’s no where to _run to!_ ”

“I know I know!” I cried, panic gripping my heart, “I know! I – we run to the nearest town and use the floo there?”

“What if we don’t know anyone in that town?” Neville demanded, ”We have to go back to Aberdeen!”

“But they’re attacking –“

“Then we have to stay here until everything’s calmed down and –“

We heard the forest rustle around us; I jumped in fear and backed through the vegetation with Neville, dragging him by his arm. His mouth flew shut in fear as we stumbled backwards into a small ditch, waiting there together as silently as possible.

There were a lot of people, Death Eaters and Ministry members alike, that we were responsible for being in Azkaban; they wouldn’t settle just for torturing us. They would demand our lives.

Neville enveloped me in his arms and held me as close to him as he possibly could; I rested there, waiting and listening, my heartbeat loud in my ears. I couldn’t hear anyone moving anymore; there was no sound from the ledge above us, and the leaves and trees seemed to be quiet. The only rustling was the sound of the wind passing through them.

I breathed deeply and gripped my arms tighter around Neville’s waist and stomach; I didn’t want to move a single muscle unless I had to. Neville pulled me the slightest bit closer, his breath hot on the top of my head as he held me to him.

I didn’t want to say a word, and so, we stayed like that, silent, for what could only have been hours. If I hadn’t been careful, I would have even fallen asleep; but every time a branch snapped or a leaf drifted down from above, my heart would pound loudly in response and I’d chance looking up, ready to face some terrible individual looking to kill us. But no one would be standing over the pit; perhaps they would have killed without saying anything.

My neck was starting to hurt and I could hear Neville hiss a little with pain any time he shifted ever so slightly; I looked up hesitantly and debated quietly in my head.

I looked over at Neville desperately and he nodded silently. It was so dark you could barely see your own hand in front of your face; the stars from the sky were the only things giving us any light, and those were mostly obscured by the trees. I stretched up silently and gently eased myself out of the pit; I couldn’t see anyone in the dark, and I heard no rustling or movement. I lowered myself back into the pit and waited with Neville for a little longer, holding him close to me again as I prayed that nothing but small animals were out there.

I took a deep breath; it had to have been another hour. I got up and pulled Neville out with me, exhaustion filling every corner of me as we started walking silently through the woods. In the darkness it was almost impossible to know which way we were going; I grimaced and lit my wand, murmuring “ _Lumos_ ” under my breath. Neville looked terrified next to me and I held his hand tightly, walking slowly and methodically through the forest. His hand was holding mine so tight it practically cut off circulation as we silently crept down a path that we hoped – I was assuming we, as we continued to not talk – was the one we had come down on.

We kept going down through the woods, but I was afraid that we were horrifically lost. I had no idea where to go next and I turned to Neville in fear.

He frowned at me, his grimace just visible in my low wandlight. I wrapped my arms tightly around him and squeezed, crying softly into his chest. We were trapped in the woods until daylight; and who knew who would find us as we just stood there, completely exposed to the light.

We moved forward, creeping along together. The trees were beautiful, and I frowned to myself – perhaps the best way out was up.

I grabbed him and pulled him quickly forward to a tree with plenty of low lying branches. I immediately started scurrying up them, looking down at Neville nervously. He shook his head at me, his eyes wide with terror, as I glared at him in response. This was the best way to safety, I knew that. Neville visibly gulped, even in the low light, his face pale and covered in sweat as I forcefully heaved him up onto a branch and dragged him with me. We continued to climb up into the tree, jumping from branch to branch, Neville audibly whimpering as we did so. I managed to drag him up higher into the trees until we finally reached the highest sturdy branches, me pulling him up behind me and nestling into his arms against the trunk of the tree.

“Safe,” I whispered softly.

“Until morning,” Neville answered quietly, his voice audibly shaking.

“Let’s just focus on sleeping, okay?” I begged. He nodded against my head and held me tighter, squeezing me as my exhaustion finally overcame my fear and I fell asleep in his arms.

The moment the sun rose, I awoke. I was too terrified and too on edge to sleep through it. I stirred and looked behind me, Neville’s eyes meeting my own.

“Did you sleep at all?” I asked quietly.

“Some,” Neville acknowledged, “We should go back, now.”

“Yeah,” I agreed softly. The thought of going back down on the ground filled me with dread, but I shimmied back down the trunk of the tree to the ground. I landed with a thump, helping Neville down to the ground with me, as we started walking through the woods again.

We gripped each other’s hands tightly and moved through the bushes and the trees, trying to find our way to Aberdeen. There were noticeable trampled patches of undergrowth that I followed, still staying as silent as possible and not speaking to Neville, though not being able to talk to him for comfort was killing me. Every single sound still terrified me, and now that I could see I was whirling my head about wildly, searching for every source of sound.

“We’re wandering in circles,” Neville whispered softly.

“I know,” I responded, my heart clenched, “This isn’t… a small forest.”

“No,” he agreed, “We need help.”

“If I produce a patronus,” I stated in a hoarse whisper, “I’ll give away our position.”

“If you don’t,” he muttered, his voice shaking again, “We’re stuck out here.”

“Okay,” I whispered, “Okay.” I thought of the feeling of comfort, safety, and joy I had had when Neville and I had slept in each other’s arms the first time. I waved my wand and the dragon flew out of it, staring at me intently. If that was how I looked when I was a dragon, no wonder people feared me.

“Please find a member of the Order or a member of the Rebellion and tell them we’re lost in the woods,” I whispered, “Please be discreet.”

The dragon phantom nodded and flew up into the trees, up into the sky. I swallowed and looked over at Neville, unsure of where to go next.

“We could climb a tree again,” he offered, looking hesitant.

“That’s probably the best ide –“ I began, but the most chilling and terrifying voice possible cut me off.

“Oh I don’t think there will be any of that!”

I turned around slowly, facing my worst nightmare, looking much different than the last time I had seen her.

I knew it was Umbridge from the voice escaping from her lips, but that was essentially the only tell. Her hair was tangled, long, and matted down with dirt; her face was covered in scars – so many scars – and dirt besides; her clothing was grey, ratted robes, the typical uniform, I could assume, of an Azkaban prisoner. But she was there, and her wand was out, and she was grinning as evilly as I remembered.

“I have been _waiting for this moment_ for months and months, and now, finally, I –“ Umbridge continued, but I wouldn’t let her finish. I knew what would happen if I let her say a single other word.

I was still holding my wand, so I picked the fastest route. Without hesitation, I shouted, “AVADA KEDAVRA.”

Green light flew from my wand and hit her square in the chest. Her mouth opened in shock and she fell back against the ground, staring lifelessly up at the forest sky. Neville shouted – no, he screamed – in shock and possibly horror, but I didn’t have time to deal with that now. I had to get rid of the evidence. What had Barty Crouch Jr. done? Right, he had transfigured his father into a bone. I could do that. I waved my wand over Umbridge and Neville continued to make noises of distress behind me, her transforming into a single bone – and I made it be a small bird bone at that. I quickly stuck the bone in the ground, burying it deep underneath the soil and leaf litter, before turning back to Neville.

“Maggie – Maggie – Maggie you’re going to get into to so much trouble – Maggie –“ Neville sobbed heavily.

“If I hadn’t done that,” I said, my voice choked and hoarse, “She would have killed us.”

“I – I – I – I –“ Neville stammered out, looking horrified and distressed, “But – but – but – you’re going to be locked up!”

“Not if I can help it,” I muttered, “Let’s get out of here.”

I grabbed his hand and dragged him through the forest, running somewhat with him down worn paths until finally I could see the trees clearing. I sprinted out into a small grove and fell to my knees, panting heavily, my mind whirling with terror and shock at what had just happened.

“Mags,” Neville whispered. I held my head tightly in my hands and stared down at the ground, everything in my mind spinning.

“Mags,” Neville repeated. I managed to look up, breathing heavily, my mind still a whirlwind.

“I had to,” I repeated, staring down at my knees, “I had to, I had to, I had to, I –“

“I know,” Neville whispered.

“She would have – killed – us,” I gasped out, staring out in front of me, my mind unable to stop spinning.

“I know,” Neville agreed.

“I – I – I – I – I –“

“Mags, breathe,” Neville whispered. I nodded, but it was harder than I thought, and I curled up more on the ground, my breath coming into my lungs in short, staggered pants. I felt Neville grab my arms and pull me up, and I stared into his eyes and tried to calm down by looking at his face. We stared at each other for a long while, and staring into his eyes managed to get my mind to stop spinning and my breathing to eventually return to normal.

“Mags, you’ve killed before,” Neville whispered softly.

“I was a dragon,” I responded, “It’s different.”

“Yeah,” Neville acknowledged, “I get that. But you had no other choice. It was self defense.”

“Will anyone believe that?” I begged, horrified.

“When it comes to Umbridge, everyone will,” Neville murmured soothingly, “Look, even the people who liked her and agreed with her can’t risk coming out as a sympathizer now. She’s too universally hated and everyone knows what she did. And if it’s you? People will be even less able to come out against her than before. She almost murdered you. Now you using an unforgiveable curse isn’t good,” Neville swallowed, “But we know that they’re done all the time, it’s not like some trace is put on them. You’ve… hidden the evidence… and we won’t tell people. Or, if we do, the people we tell wouldn’t be the type to tell the Ministry, okay?”

I nodded, breathing heavily still a little bit, simply because I couldn’t help it.

“It was instinctual, Neville, I barely even thought –“

“I know,” Neville whispered.

“Am I a horrible person?”

“No,” Neville reassured softly, “No, love, no. You’re not. Maggie, she tried to kill you. Many times. _Many times_. She hated you, she despised you, and she screwed up your brain even more than it already was. She threatened to rape me and actually hurt many other people. She was a terrible human who, out of Azkaban, could wreak any more havoc. You did what you had to do. You did what you should have done a year ago. You are not a horrible person, Mags, I promise.”

I nodded, breathing in deeply. Neville held his hands around my arms tightly as I continued to sit there, breathing in slowly and methodically, coming down off of the panic. I looked up at him again and frowned, trying to breathe normally and finding myself unable to.

“We should get out of this forest,” Neville whispered softly. I nodded, getting up weakly and holding onto his arm. I kept my wand out, though my hand was shaking with it in my grip, as we continued to move through the forest and down a hill. We managed to make it out to a road, and followed it silently. If people had come to meet me from my patronus, I wasn’t going to stay where they could find me; I had sent the patronus at the scene of the crime and I had to get away from there as quickly as possible.

We continued to walk down the road, looking around us nervously as we continued down and followed the signs leading to Aberdeen. Neville gripped my hand so tightly it hurt but I didn’t care much, us clearly mangled and dirty and seemingly out of place as we managed to make it to the outside of the city.

“Do you know how to get to the Wixen district?” Neville asked softly.

“I honestly have no idea, no,” I sighed, “We just kind of ran out of there.”

“Well, let’s look around for something familiar,” he lamented. I put my wand back in my pocket and we wandered around the city together, but nothing seemed familiar at all. I sighed heavily and turned to hold Neville tightly in my arms, trying my hardest not to cry.

“Let’s find a map,” Neville whispered, “A map of the city. Wherever the Wixen village is, it has to be near the woods, right?”

“Right,” I agreed softly. We wandered and found a tourist shop, heading in and looking at a map together. The only forested areas were near the Old Town; we managed to wander up there by following the map, walking as normally as we could so no one would find us suspicious.

I breathed a sigh of relief when, finally, we saw the ruins of the old Trans clinic; I ran to the pub that was much like the Leaky Cauldron and dragged Neville inside.

The people inside looked up at us in shock, and someone rushed towards us with his mouth open.

“You’re alive!” the man gasped, and I didn’t recognize him, “You must leave! Now!”

“What’s happening?” Neville demanded, looking on in shock. The people of Aberdeen did not like us; I was half expecting to be attacked.

“The battle is still happening – Death Eaters have swarmed the city and –“

“Has anyone been hurt?” I demanded angrily, all thoughts of guilt and horror at myself gone at the prospect.

“No major casualties but it’s been a long night –“

“Come on,” Neville shouted, dragging me back out into the Wixen square. We ran together despite the protests of people inside and the sounds of fighting outside. We ran out there into the chaos of people fighting and the spells flying every which way, a cacophony of Aurors, Order members, Rebellion members, free Death Eaters and escaped convicts all fighting one another in an almost panic inducing way.

No wonder there hadn’t even been a _sign_ of someone looking for us in the woods.

I ran forward to Tonks, who was fighting an escaped Death Eater and a non escaped one on her own – both wearing masks to obscure their faces. I shot a stunner towards the escaped one and Tonks looked over at me in shock, her mouth open.

“You’re alive!” she shouted.

“Why is everyone so surprised at this?” I roared back as Neville joined us, the three of us fighting the other Death Eater and sending them away.

“Because,” Tonks panted, “Last night after you had scampered out of here quite a few convicts followed you. One of them was Umbridge –“

I tried to look as surprised as possible and I could only hope Neville was doing the same.

“And when you didn’t come back overnight we figured the worst had happened – did you run into any of them –“

“No,” Neville answered immediately, “No, we hid out in the woods all night out of fear.”

“Why is the battle still happening?” I demanded, looking around at all the chaos. Buildings were crumbling, things were falling apart everywhere – no one seemed to be doing well.

“The battle did end,” Tonks amended, “In the middle of the night, but then this morning more Death Eaters came to help free the convicts we had captured. The Aurors were holding them here overnight while we tried to come up with some sort of solution as to where to keep them.”

“The Dementors have all joined with Voldemort officially, haven’t they?” Neville asked darkly.

“Well, they really did months and months ago, before the whole… Mrs. Weasley… business… occurred,” Tonks chocked out, looking horrified, “But now they can’t keep the prisoners in the structure with aurors, so, they had to come out and say it, yes.”

I looked over at Neville in fear and then turned back to Tonks, “How can we help?”

“Neville shouldn’t, sadly, he’s underage –“

“Is anyone going to bloody well notice?” Neville grunted, rolling his eyes.

“Probably not. Harry’s been fighting the whole time,” Tonks acknowledged.

“Is he okay?” I asked in shock.

“Where is he?” Neville demanded.

“He and Hermione came back fairly soon after running away, which also contributed to us thinking you were dead,” Tonks sighed, “They’ve been fighting too. I don’t know where they are –“

“We’re going to go look for them,” I said firmly, running out into the fray and ducking under curses as I did so. I didn’t even hear Tonks protest as I sped through the crowd, looking around wildly for the giant bush of brown or the messy mop of black. Neville caught up to me and grabbed my arm again, dragging me through the crowd once more and ducking under the barrage of spells and curses going through the air as we rolled behind a pillar of stone.

“We’re never going to find them in this,” Neville panted.

“We have to – they – they think we’re dead –“ I gasped out.

“I know, I’m just – I’m just saying, Mags, we’re never –“

“FOLLOW THE LITTLE CRIPPLE! FOLLOW HIM AND BRING HIM TO THE DARK LORD!”

I looked over at Neville in shock and he looked back at me.

“There he is,” we said in unison, before getting up and following the group of five Death Eaters that were running away from us. I transformed into a dragon and I dove at them, knocking them over like bowling pins as I flew through their terrible formation. They all fell down and I flew in front of Harry, spinning around to face him before transforming again. Harry was covered in blood and was clearly coughing it up again, holding his chest in his hands as he ran towards me. He stopped in his tracks in shock, looking at me in amazement.

“Mags,” he breathed, “You’re alive.”

“I’m sorry you thought I wasn’t,” I panted, “You don’t look like you will be much longer though!”

Neville caught up to us and grabbed Harry, holding him as he started to sway on the spot.

“Oh my god I’m hallucinating aren’t I,” he gasped out, blood trickling from his mouth.

“No, no you’re not mate,” Neville reassured, holding him up more aloft, “We’re here and we’re alive, and we’re going to get you somewhere safe.”

“But – but –“

“We ran into the woods and we stayed there overnight for safety,” I soothed, “Come on, bro, let’s go.”

Harry fell to the ground coughing, blood spurting up from his mouth in a horrifying show. I grabbed him and picked him up, holding him in my arms as Neville reached for his face and wiped the blood from it. Harry was groaning quietly as I walked through the alleyways, as fast as I could. He was heavy, but being sick for so long had made him lighter than before, since he wasn’t working out and apparently couldn’t even play Quidditch anymore or fly on a broom. I ran through the alleys and back to a back street where no fighting appeared to be happening, resting against the wall and panting somewhat.

I only just realized how hungry I was.

“Maggie where are we going to go with him?” Neville asked as I let Harry down again and let him rest against the wall. He was panting and crying a little bit, wiping the fresh blood from his mouth as he did so.

“I don’t know,” I paused, “But we have to get him out of here?”

“I have to fight,” Harry panted out.

“Mate, you were running away from them and looking like you were about to keel over,” Neville whispered.

“I have to –“

“You need to rest, you’ve fought enough,” I whispered.

“I thought you were dead –“

“We’re not, mate –“

“I thought… I lost… my sister…” and Harry was crying even more now. I reached for him and held him tightly, rubbing his arm soothingly as he sobbed into my shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Harry, I’m so sorry,” I whispered. He looked up and nodded, wiping the tears from his eyes and staring off into space.

“I need to get better,” he muttered quietly.

“Mate, the fighting’s been going on for ages, this would take a toll on anyone –“ Neville protested.

“I need to be better than this,” Harry shook his head again, “I can barely breathe anymore.”

I looked over at Neville in terror and his expression matched mine.

“Look, we’ll start figuring this out, mate, I promise, but –“ Neville began, but screams were sounding near us and they chilled me to the bone. They sounded too much like –

“HERMIONE,” Harry gasped out, getting to his feet and stumbling down the street. I went after him, Neville following me closely as Harry forced himself to jog towards the sound. He must have been producing adrenaline or something because he managed to run fairly quickly, me following him towards the sound of what was eerily similar to Hermione screaming.

I ran past him and turned sharply around the corner, staring in shock at the sight. There were five people there, but they weren’t Death Eaters – they were Backlash members, and they seemed to be waving around something similar to clubs and sticks. Hermione was on the ground below them, cowering and screaming at the top of her lungs as they brought the clubs down and beat her, so forcefully against her tiny body that I screamed in shock at the first hit I saw – it seemed hard enough to fully break her in half. They were shouting at her slurs against her races and were screaming about how she was destroying their peace and comfort and she was crying, sobbing, screaming on the ground below and I couldn’t stop screaming at the sight.

“YOU STUPID BITCH!” someone screamed at her.

“SERVES YOU RIGHT FOR RUININ’ EVERYTHIN’!” another roared.

“SICK, TWISTED, UNTRUSTWORTHY JEW –“ a third roared.

“Stop! Stop! Stop!” Hermione begged, screaming and crying.

“LEAVE HER ALONE!” I roared at the top of my lungs.

The Backlash folk turned around to see me and started snarling in fury, the slurs they had been throwing at Hermione now changing into ones thrown at me. I transformed immediately, diving at them and knocking them all to the ground. I whirled around and grabbed the most burly one by the arm, throwing him to the street so hard that his head cracked against the stone, blood pooling around it. Neville, meanwhile, tried to get to Hermione, punching some of the Backlash people in the face. Harry was waving his wand in one of their faces but was overwhelmed with coughing fits again, managing to splutter out _Stupefy_ in between body-shattering coughs.

I turned around to another one and grabbed him by the neck, throwing him against the wall. He screamed in shock and the last unattended one waved his wand above us, causing the wall of the building to crumble. I transformed and screamed in horror as bricks started to fall down on both Neville and Hermione, Harry screaming at the top of his lungs as they were crushed beneath them. Blood spurted from his mouth as he screamed and the effort of it made him collapse, unconscious, to the ground.

Now I was the one screaming.

I fell to the ground and started sobbing horrifically, screaming at the top of my lungs in horror as I weakly reached to dig the bricks off of Neville and Hermione.

_Oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god –_

I managed to get enough bricks off of them to heave Neville out of the pile; he was groaning softly and the relief that flooded my heart was enough to keep me working, pulling the bricks off of Hermione despite the tears clouding my vision. She was so broken – blood was coming out of many different wounds on her, and her limbs were angled every which way, and she had bruises all over the place and terrible disfigurements on her face from the clubs and the Backlash devils. I cried harder and I pulled her up, holding her close to me and checking for her pulse. I breathed with relief to find she still had one but I couldn’t stop crying now, holding her in my arms and sobbing into her hair.

Neville wasn’t moving much and Harry was collapsed and I had no fucking clue how he was – I couldn’t carry all three of them – I had to do something. I tried to think of something happy –

Anything happy –

What could be happy right now –

I focused on the feeling of the four of us, talking and laughing and falling asleep in Neville’s and my room because we stayed up too late trying to cheer each other up –

“Expecto Patronum,” I whispered, and the dragon shot out of my wand again.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, “Please find someone. Anyone. Any Order or Rebellion member. Please.”

The dragon flew away again and I watched it desperately, my heart clenching tightly in my chest. I didn’t know what to do. My three best – my three – my family was bleeding all around me and I didn’t know how to stop it.

I reached for Hermione’s face and I wiped the hair off of it, horrified at the bruises appearing under her skin as she lay in my arms, unconscious. I turned around, still holding Hermione as I reached for Harry’s wrist. I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding when I felt his pulse, swallowing and crying softly in my spot.

“Maggie?!”

I turned around, thankful, to see Sirius and Lupin running towards me. I couldn’t stop crying as I looked up at them, my words stuck in my throat.

“What happened?” Sirius demanded and Lupin ran to Harry and started waving his wand over him.

“Harry overexerted himself – Hermione was – was – getting beat up – in – the street – by Backlash – people –“ I gasped out, “We fought – them – one of them – blew up the side of – the building – and it crushed – Neville and Hermione – and – and – and –“

“Okay, okay, Maggie, breathe,” Sirius demanded as Lupin got to work on Neville next, Harry slowly sitting up and holding his head now.

“Harry’s lost a lot of blood,” I gasped out, “He needs – blood replenishing – potions –“

“We need to get all four of you back to Hogwarts,” Lupin stated firmly.

“I’m just amazed you’re alive,” Sirius whispered.

“So I’ve been told,” I stated dully. I didn’t give a shit about myself right then. Harry was crawling towards me and he tried to wrench Hermione out of my arms, crying heavily against me at the shock of Hermione’s broken, tiny body.

“No no no –“ Harry hiccupped, his voice hoarse and broken.

“She’s alive, Harry, I don’t want to jostle her too much,” I whispered.

“No,” Harry sobbed out, crying heavily and falling to the ground again, “No.”

Lupin reached Hermione and started working quickly as Sirius knelt down to Harry, whispering to him and soothing him softly. Lupin then took Hermione out of my arms and I ran to Neville, helping him up from the ground as he groggily came to.

“Wha –“ Neville gasped out.

“We’re taking you lot back to Hogwarts,” Sirius stated firmly, helping Harry to his feet as Lupin carried Hermione, who was still apparently unconscious, “Come on.”

Neville looked at me tiredly and I nodded, pulling him along through the back alleys and down to the pub. The fighting seemed to, at least, be quieting; no one paid attention to us as we stumbled into the pub. The bartender had changed; it wasn’t the one from the morning, but the one from yesterday, the angry and violent one who enjoyed bullying me and my friends.

“We need to get this lot back to Hogwarts,” Lupin said firmly.

“I don’t provide business to Half-Breeds and Queers,” the man shot back.

Sirius punched him in the face immediately, not even hesitating; the man shouted in pain as I limped forward and grabbed some of his floo powder. I sneered at him hatefully and threw it into the fire, pulling Neville in with me and murmuring, “Hogsmeade.”

We whirled through the fireplaces and stumbled out together, Neville groaning in pain next to me as I held him up as much as I could. He was much heavier than Hermione or even Harry.

“Nev, you gotta sit,” I whispered, helping him into a chair. He grunted softly and looked up at me, reaching out for my face and holding it in his hand gently.

“Can you talk, Nev?” I asked desperately. He strained to get words out, but could not seem to; I cried softly and reached down to hold his head in my own hands, rubbing his cheeks with my thumbs in distress.

The fire turned green again; Lupin wandered out holding Hermione. I ran up to him and reached for her, pressing for her pulse.

“I need to get her to the Hospital Wing,” Lupin paused.

“Where’s –“ I began, but soon enough Sirius came through the fire carrying Harry.

“I vote,” Sirius grunted, helping Harry into a chair as he coughed blood up again, “That we never again go to Aberdeen.”

“I second that,” I stated dully, wrapping my arms tightly across my chest.

“We’ll help you get them all up to the Hospital Wing, Maggie,” Lupin paused, “You look like you could use some patching up, too.”

“What I need is food,” I muttered, shuffling between my feet. My brother was on the verge of death again, my best mate was unconscious, and my soulmate was mute and weakened.

I was not doing well.

I helped Neville up to the castle, following Sirius and Lupin carefully. I was too tired to do much else as we reached the Hospital Wing and I helped Neville into a bed.

“I need food,” I muttered quietly, again, as Madam Pomfrey started fretting over the four of us.

“Yes, yes, fine,” she stated in a rush, “One moment.”

I watched her in annoyance as she ran back to Hermione. If I could have just left, I would have fed myself. Sirius and Lupin had left quickly to rejoin the battle. I kissed Neville on the nose and walked down the steps, so shaken from everything that had occurred in the past twenty-four hours that I just needed to be alone for a minute.

I reached the Great Hall and sat down to some toast, staring out in front of me dully. I didn’t know what to think or feel anymore. Everything felt broken again.

“Maggie?”

I looked up to see Elena staring at me in shock, her mouth open. I swallowed heavily, realizing how terrible I must have looked.

“Hey,” I croaked out.

“What… happened?” she asked, her eyes wide with shock.

“Aberdeen… didn’t go well,” I stated calmly.

“I figured as much,” Elena rolled her eyes.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I muttered softly, “How are things here?”

“Fine?” Elena frowned, sitting across from me, “I mean nothing exciting has happened. Pete and Kata and Claire and I spent the weekend drawing up new pamphlets to pass out about gender identity because we feel it would be good. Kat did most of the actual explaining stuff since she’s been trying to figure out what her identity is and has been doing all the research, and Pete is a good artist so he’s been drawing up the stuff for it, and then I can write so I’ve been writing it. Claire is just mostly the cheerleader to be honest but she’s good at it.”

I laughed, “That’s nice, great job!”

“Yeah,” Elena was still frowning at me, “I mean, she was good at the magic bit, so she reproduced the pamphlets so we had many of them and stuff, so that was nice.”

“Sounds like you make a good team for that sort of thing,” I commented.

“You think?” Elena asked in surprise.

“Yeah,” I said, “You probably could make like, a magazine or something.”

“We have the Quibbler for that,” Elena said, blushing.

“Eh, nothing lasts forever,” I frowned, “And it might be good to have a news publication that can be considered trustworthy – for the Rebellion anyway – that isn’t, you know… the Quibbler.”

“Yeah,” Elena pursed her lips together, “Yeah, I mean, that makes sense – but – I dunno…”

“Afraid?” I sighed softly.

“I always am, Maggie,” Elena muttered.

“I know,” I admitted, “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not cut out for this. I’m not _you_.”

“No,” I agreed, “You’re not me. But you are you.”

“Thank you for stating observable facts –“

“No I just mean… I think you want to help more with the rebellion and the war and everything,” I explained, “But you don’t want to fight like I do. And that’s okay. Not everyone should. But I think that you have ways that you can contribute, because, you’re good with words, and you have your own unique experiences like getting bullied and being a lesbian and everything else. And I think that you can find your own unique ways to contribute that don’t involve you doing things you don’t want to do, because, you’ll help more doing these things you’re good at, you know?”

“Yeah,” Elena smiled slightly, “Yeah, I get that. Thanks, sis.”

“Of course,” I beamed, “How are things with you and Claire?”

“Good,” Elena immediately turned beet red – though she was darker than the average redhead because of our dad, she still had a blush that was more so than the average person, and I grinned at her teasingly.

“Oh shut up!” Elena whined, whacking me in the arm. I winced – lying in a ditch all night and sleeping in a tree hadn’t been good for my limbs and joints.

“I will not,” I grinned through the pain anyway, “It’s my job, as the older sister, to take the mickey out of ya.”

“Thanks for that,” Elena blushed, then looking at me seriously, “Maggie?”

“Yes, that is my name,” I teased.

“I… did…” she took a deep breath, “I know Claire is the one.”

“Okay,” I nodded, finding no reason to argue with her. She’d know better than I would.

And I certainly agreed, at any rate.

“Because she’s always looked out for me and she really cares about me and my god I love her so much and she’s just so wonderful and fierce and such a badass and –“

“Thank you, I believe you, I don’t need the details,” I snorted.

“I… we’ve been through so much together,” Elena mumbled.

“Yes, yes you have,” I agreed.

“How would I know if I’m moving too fast?” Elena blurted out. I frowned at her thoughtfully.

“It’s all about what you feel comfortable with, Elena,” I stated calmly, “If you’re comfortable with everything you’re doing – one hundred percent comfortable – then you’re moving at just the right pace.”

Elena nodded, “So I’m not… too young for anything?”

“You’re too young for what you don’t feel comfortable for,” I stated, raising an eyebrow, “Only you can tell yourself if you’re too young for something.”

“Yeah,” Elena murmured thoughtfully, “Yeah. Okay.”

“Dare I ask, or would you rather keep this private?” I said.

“I er… Claire and I already have been… uh…” Elena blushed furiously.

“Okay okay, you don’t have to tell me,” I rolled my eyes.

“Well we live in the same dormitory so… uh… we’ve played with each other’s… breasts… over clothing only!” Elena squeaked out.

“Okay,” I smirked teasingly. I was too tired to mentally freak out.

“But… I dunno… I kinda… would like… to see them?” Elena flushed madly.

“Discuss it with her,” I stated firmly, “Talk to her about where you are in your relationship and where you’d like to be, and how fast you’d like to get there. This is something you need to talk about together. And if you’re too embarrassed to talk about it, then you’re not ready yet.”

“Yeah,” Elena nodded, “I think I can talk to her. Yeah. I’m a little nervous, but I can.”

“I believe in you,” I smiled softly, wincing a little as I moved my arm to grab some sausages.

“What happened, Maggie?” Elena asked quietly. I grimaced, staring down at my food and shrugging.

“Please, tell me,” Elena whispered. I looked up at her, staring into her eyes identical to my own, as people walked around us and talked and chatted like the world hadn’t just exploded.

“The other three are in the Hospital Wing. They’re all gravely injured,” I whispered.

“Oh no,” Elena gasped, immediately beginning to cry and holding her hands over her mouth.

“And… And…” I hadn’t thought about it since the chaos had happened. There was too much. This was too much.

“What?” Elena asked softly, looking at me in fear.

“And I killed Umbridge,” I whispered softly, so softly I was worried she hadn’t heard me, but her facial expression was enough to tell me that she had.

I burst into tears, burying my face in my arms, as I found that I could do nothing else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really wanted to get this out tonight but it is super late for me; so please comment! I'll respond to comments tomorrow. I hope you all enjoyed! Please comment! Thanks!


	126. Chapter One Hundred and Twenty Four: February 10 - 19, 1997, Hogwarts and Cardiff

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Something takes a part of me.   
> Something lost and never seen.   
> Everytime I start to believe,   
> Something's raped and taken from me... from me. 
> 
> Life's got to always be messing with me. (You wanna see the light)   
> Can't they chill and let me be free? (So do I)   
> Can't I take away all this pain. (You wanna see the light)   
> I try to every night, all in vain... in vain. 
> 
> Sometimes I cannot take this place.   
> Sometimes it's my life I can't taste.   
> Sometimes I cannot feel my face.   
> You'll never see me fall from grace."   
> ~ Korn, "Freak on a Leash"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for violence and brief sexual content

Chapter 124: February 10 – 19, 1997, Hogwarts and Cardiff

“How long will Hermione be unconscious?” I asked softly, staring at Madam Pomfrey with my arms crossed tightly in front of my chest. Hermione was out like a light, and so was Harry; Neville was up and reading a book quietly.

“Potentially just a few more days,” Madam Pomfrey paused, “I cannot say beyond that.”

“And Harry?” I asked sternly.

“I’m forcing him into a magically induced sleep to give his lungs a chance to heal more,” Pomfrey explained, “I’m not sure when I’ll let him wake up but I think this might be the only way to heal him better.”

“Are you giving him blood replenishing potions?” I asked sternly.

“I have been, and I’m thinking of giving him a muggle IV with it,” Pomfrey nodded, “It might be the best solution.”

“And Neville?” I asked sternly, trying to not sigh heavily again, “Why can’t he talk?”

“The wall collapsing crushed his larynx,” Pomfrey stated simply, “It will heal, fully, but it’ll take some time.”

“Brilliant,” I sighed, “Thank you.”

“Of course,” Pomfrey nodded, before leaving the room quietly. I sighed and sat there, reaching for Neville’s hand and holding it tightly. My mind had returned to being a whirlwind, me just staring out in front of me silently. Neville reached up for my face with his other hand, setting his book down on his lap. I had spent the night holding him, but he and the others had been asleep; Pomfrey had only had time to tell me what their prognosis was this morning.

I stared into Neville’s eyes and tried to not cry, though it was difficult; he pulled me into his arms on his bed and held me loosely, his entire body clearly in pain and bruised still. I wanted him to say anything to me – I couldn’t remember the last time we had said I love you, between hiding for our lives in the woods and the battle.

“I love you,” I whispered softly, tears leaking from my eyes. He wiped them from my face and kissed my nose softly, mouthing _I love you_ though no sound escaped from his lips. I kissed him again and nestled against his chest, breathing softly and crying just as so. My tears leaked onto his chest and I rested there for a while, before getting up and heading for Spellweaving class.

I wandered into the room and sat down, breathing heavily and holding my face in my hands. I couldn’t get the image of Umbridge, dead, on the forest floor out of my head. Her open mouth, her vacant expression, everything.

I was horrified with myself.

“Maggie?”

I looked up to see Sam standing next to me, staring at me in concern. We hadn’t talked since his freakout.

“Hey,” I muttered quietly, looking away from him and back at my hands. I had blood on them. The blood wasn’t visible but in my mind it was rivers and rivers running down my arms and onto the floor. I had now killed at least two, maybe three, people as a dragon – and one with an Unforgiveable Curse.

“Maggie, I’m sorry,” Sam stated calmly. I looked up again, and honestly, his mental breakdown was the furthest thing from my mind.

“I was – a horrible friend – and I understand why you’re reluctant to trust me anymore but I – I wouldn’t leave this rebellion, I wouldn’t. I am afraid, and I’ll probably freak out again, but I’d never be able to _fully_ leave, I swear, and we’ve been through so much, I’d have hoped you’d see that, and –“ Sam rambled.

“Sam I forgive you,” I stated calmly, trying to get my voice to come out normally, “I understand. It’s fine.”

“Okay,” Sam frowned, “So… what’s wrong?”

I looked at him. Could I trust him? Who could I trust? I had told Elena, and she had comforted me and told me it was okay, and Neville obviously didn’t hate me, but who could I trust?

“I don’t know if I should say,” I mumbled softly.

“I reiterate that we’ve been through a shitton,” Sam sighed, sitting down next to me. I looked at him again, and swallowed.

“Did you hear about the Azkaban Breakout?” I asked softly.

“Yeah,” Sam grimaced, “I’m terrified. I think everyone is.”

I sighed again, “During the battle at Aberdeen, Neville and I were ambushed.”

“Oh fuck,” Sam’s eyes widened, “By who?”

I swallowed and looked at him seriously. His mouth dropped open.

“Not –“

“Yes,” I acknowledged, “Umbridge found us.”

“What happened?” Sam asked immediately.

“I killed her,” I whispered very, very softly, as though the empty room could hear me.

 “Holy fuck,” Sam gasped, “Really?”

“Yes,” I whispered, “And I’m – freaking – out –“

“How?” he asked quietly.

I couldn’t say it out loud. I just looked up at him and mouthed the curse silently. Sam’s eyes widened more.

“What – did you do with –“

“I turned her into a sparrow’s femur and buried her in the dirt.”

“Holy shit…”

“I’m a horrible person –“

“No, no you’re not,” Sam stated firmly, “Maggie don’t spiral for this –“

“I can’t stop, and there’s no logical –“

“There are plenty of logical reasons to stop,” Sam insisted softly, “I’m assuming that you were ambushed and that she was about to attack you?”

I nodded, tears streaming down from my eyes again.

“You would have been killed, Maggie. You saved yourself and Neville,” Sam whispered as Ernie walked into the room.

“I… I know…” I choked out.

“What’s happening?” Ernie asked seriously, wrapping his arm around Sam’s shoulder and squeezing it, giving him a long kiss. I shrugged, holding my face in my hands and trying to not cry again.

“Maggie had a traumatic weekend,” Sam muttered.

“Well that’s common knowledge, you guys were whispering,” Ernie frowned.

“I… it’s Maggie’s secret to tell, and I don’t want to betray –“ Sam said. 

“I trust Ernie,” I whispered. Sam leaned over to Ernie’s ear and began hissing in it as I laid my head in my arms again, holding it tightly between them, as though to keep my mind together. I looked up, briefly, as Sam continued to whisper to Ernie.

Ernie looked over at me in shock, his mouth open. I burst into more tears and buried my face in my hands.

“No, no, Maggie – Maggie – calm down –“ Sam sputtered out.

“Maggie, no, seriously –“ Ernie agreed. I kept crying heavily, curling my legs up against my body tightly in my seat.

“I’m – horr – ib – ble –“ I choked out.

“No, Maggie, you’re not. Honestly I was going to thank you before you started crying!” Ernie insisted.

I looked up at him, sniffling a little.

“Mate, honestly, you did something that everyone in this castle needed you to do,” Ernie continued, “You’ve put us all at peace after what happened.”

I stared at him critically for a long time, “I’m never going to understand what it was like, am I?”

“I’ll never understand what it was like on the run,” Ernie shrugged, “We all have our experiences in life and I don’t think anyone would claim that you didn’t have it bad, Mags.”

I smiled weakly, before sighing heavily, “I just… I dread what’s coming.”

Sam looked stricken by that, looking at me with a frown.

“Do you honestly think that this is how the war will stay?” I said softly, “No… no, the war is only going to get worse. The Death Eaters are growing stronger and stronger every day and they will continue to do so. The Ministry is focusing more on stopping our Rebellion than they are fighting the Death Eaters and it will only end badly,” I took a deep breath and stared out in front of me, unable to think of anything else, “You weren’t in Aberdeen on Sunday. The Death Eaters were attacking the Order and the Backlash were attacking Rebellion people and Hermione was beaten nearly to death with those sticks that muggle policemen have.”

“What?” Sam screeched.

“Yeah,” I whispered, “It was horrifying. The Ministry doesn’t care. The ministry doesn’t care about the war. They care about stopping us.”

Ernie looked positively horrified, sitting back in his seat with his mouth open slightly.

“We did this,” I said, finally voicing the thought that I had been suppressing, “By instigating this rebellion – this revolution – we’ve taken the focus away from the war for the Ministry and now we’re all doomed.”

Sam held his face in his hands, his fingers deep in his long black hair as he gripped his scalp. Ernie was crying softly as McGonagall walked into the room, looking at the three of us in shock.

“What is wrong with you three?”

I swallowed, looking around the room. I didn’t want to say what I had done if Malfoy would be there any minute.

“I can’t say,” I whispered softly.

“Goodness, what couldn’t you tell me, Maggie?” McGonagall asked, frowning heavily. She had numerous scars on her face from the battle, but appeared to be mostly okay.

“I,” I swallowed heavily, unable to continue.

“Can you not say in front of Sam and Ernie?” McGonagall frowned.

“No, we know,” Ernie murmured.

“Then what –“

“I don’t want Malfoy to overhear,” I explained quietly.

“There is no chance of Mr. Malfoy overhearing,” McGonagall shook her head firmly.

“What? Why not?” Sam demanded.

“He is currently in Professor Dumbledore’s office, and that is all you need to know,” McGonagall said firmly.

“Like hell it isn’t,” I snapped, standing up and feeling fury enter my heart, “I’ve been through a lot this weekend, Professor, and I wouldn’t appreciate being left in the dark.”

McGonagall sighed, looking at me sadly, “I confess I do not know what they are discussing. Albus only told me that Mr. Malfoy was divulging to him something important.”

I stood up, “He could be divulging the mission –“

“Yes, potentially,” McGonagall paused, “If I promise to tell you what happened, will you tell me, now, what is wrong with you lot?”

I looked at McGonagall in terror, my heart clenching. How was I supposed to tell her this happened? I knew she wouldn’t turn me in – she cared about me more than she cared about the rules – but would she ever look at me the same way again?

“I…” I choked out, my heart clenching tightly.

“Maggie?” McGonagall asked, rushing forward and holding me around my shoulder, “Maggie, what’s wrong?”

“I… in the… woods…” I sputtered, my mouth not letting the words leave my lips.

“What is it? What happened there?” McGonagall asked in terror, squeezing my shoulder tightly.

“Neville and I were ambushed by Umbridge, and I killed her,” I whispered very fast, trying my hardest not to cry. McGonagall immediately pulled me in for a hug and I sobbed into her shoulder, my body shaking with fear and horror as the image of Umbridge’s vacant face stayed stuck in the front of my brain, not leaving no matter how hard I tried to think of something, anything, _anything_ else.

“It’s okay, Maggie,” McGonagall whispered, “It’s okay.”

I pulled back and looked at her wordlessly, unable to stop myself.

“But I –“

“No buts,” McGonagall took a deep breath, “That bitch –“

“Holy fucking shite,” Ernie breathed.

“Would have killed you, Maggie, without hesitation. She already tried once. You had to stop her from doing that,” McGonagall took in a deep breath, “We all saw her run after you. When you didn’t come back that night, we thought you and Neville had died. I… I am glad that this is not the case, and you having killed that horrid, horrid woman is what was necessary for you to be here today.”

I looked at McGonagall sadly; her facial expression was filled with a pain that I could barely fathom. She had legitimately thought I, and Neville, were dead for the better part of a day. I threw my arms around her and hugged her again tightly, crying into her shoulder more as she rubbed my back.

“But what if someone finds out? What if someone comes after me?” I whispered hoarsely, pulling back and looking at her in terror.

“What, exactly, happened?” McGonagall asked sternly, sitting back in a chair. I sat in mine, swallowing and looking at her carefully.

“Neville and I were in the woods. I cast a patronus for help. Immediately afterwards, Umbridge jumped us. She had her wand out and was shouting about how she had been waiting for this day. I… cast the killing curse,” I whispered as softly as I could, “I then transfigured her into a sparrow’s femur. I then buried the femur deep in the dirt. Neville and I ran away.”

“Okay,” McGonagall paused thoughtfully, “They’ll be looking for her, but you should be alright.”

“Are you sure, Professor?” Ernie asked nervously, “She used an unforgiveable curse…”

“There’s no way anyone could detect that,” McGonagall stated firmly, “Umbridge’s body won’t come to light until Maggie dies and then who cares?”

“But people will be looking for her,” I mumbled fearfully.

“Yes,” McGonagall acknowledged, “But not heavily. The disaster in Aberdeen means that the Aurors are focusing on the Death Eaters who escaped more than anything. Umbridge doesn’t have much power since she isn’t in Government; she and other Ministry members who were imprisoned in Azkaban after the end of last year are low on their priority list. By the time they go looking for her, it will be just as plausible that she’s in a different country as it is that you killed her.”

“But they’re going to know that she was last seen chasing me and –“ I rambled.

“Yes, but you also came out of there alive. Maggie, last year you had a direct confrontation with her, in which she nearly killed you at least three times, if I am not mistaken,” McGonagall paused, “You were unable to kill her then. It would seem more likely to Aurors investigating that you never encountered one another – you _were_ in a large, dense forest – than that you killed her. In addition,” she took a long breath, “If you did kill her, no one will want to prosecute you.”

“Why?” I asked, frowning.

“Because it’s _Umbridge_ , and it is _you_ ,” McGonagall paused, “She tried to murder you. She tortured you, extensively, as well as most of the student body, but you especially. Between public opinion about you and public opinion about her and public opinion about what happened, if you were to be prosecuted the Ministry would be torched again. No one would want that. They would literally just ignore it.”

“Okay,” I whispered softly.

“Makes sense,” Sam agreed.

“Now,” McGonagall straightened up, walking to the board, “Let’s get to work on more complex, less elemental Spellweaving. For example, I would like you all to weave a spell today that manipulates something that isn’t based upon a pure element. There are many materials in the classroom but I will explain how to deconstruct these materials and how you would go about creating a spell to manipulate it. As you all know, in complex transfigurations –“

McGonagall knew me too well; diving into learning was the exact thing I needed to take my mind off of everything. I focused on the schoolwork, and headed back up the Hospital Wing, loath to leave Neville alone any longer.

“Maggie?”

I turned around to face McGonagall, frowning at her.

“Would you like to talk anymore about what happened?” she asked kindly.

“I… I would,” I whispered, “But not… right now?”

McGonagall frowned at me and I sighed.

“Professor, right now I just… want to be with Neville.”

“I will walk with you,” McGonagall paused, “I apologize for this, but I have to.”

“Why?” I asked softly as we headed up the stairs together.

“Maggie,” McGonagall took a deep breath, “It is one thing for me to think you dead for a few minutes or even a few hours. It is quite another to be thoroughly convinced of it for the better part of a day.”

I looked at her and felt tears leak out of my eyes, unable to stop them.

“I am thoroughly relieved,” she continued, staring up the stairs and not at me as we made our way to the Hospital Wing, “That you were able to do what you did because it means that you are still standing here today.”

“Professor,” I whispered.

“You are the closest thing I will ever have to a daughter,” McGonagall said firmly, “To lose you to that horrid, horrid woman when she was supposed to be locked away and you safe from her – it tore me up inside, and I will not sugar coat or hide that from you.”

“Okay,” I murmured, “I understand.”

We walked down the corridor towards the wing, me wringing my wrists in residual horror.

“You did what you had to do,” McGonagall reassured.

“Yes, but…” I swallowed, “Professor, I didn’t even hesitate. I didn’t even blink an eye. I feel like a monster.”

“War makes monsters of us all,” McGonagall paused, “You are not one any more so than the rest of us. You are simply trying to survive.”

I nodded, but my mind was still attacking me. This would take more than just one chat, and I did _not_ trust Dr. Wilson enough to mention this in therapy. We went inside the Wing and I dove to Neville’s bed, holding his hand tightly and kissing him softly. He smiled at me weakly and caressed my face again, gently rubbing my cheek with his thumb and lightly tracing my lips with his fingers. I looked over at the other two; both were still unconscious.

“I _do_ wish you could talk,” I sighed.

“How are they, Poppy?” McGonagall asked, walking towards Madam Pomfrey. Pomfrey sighed, looking over at me before turning back to McGonagall.

“Mr. Potter and Ms. Granger will be out for a while yet. Ms. Granger has to heal – her wounds are extensive and severe, much more so than I thought initially. I’ve put her in a potion induced sleep same as Potter. Potter, of course, needs to heal. His lungs need _rest_ , and lots of it. I’m not sure when I will let them wake up, but it won’t be today, or even perhaps this week.”

McGonagall nodded, “Yes, yes. And Longbottom?”

“Longbottom is mostly fine, other than his crushed larynx,” Pomfrey paused, “He has some bad wounds from the bricks but honestly he can leave here tomorrow if he wishes. He cannot talk and has to keep taking this potion I’ve given him to regrow the structure, but I believe that he’ll be fine within the week.”

Neville smiled at me reassuringly and I kissed him lovingly on the forehead.

“Thank you, Poppy,” McGonagall sighed, sitting next to Hermione’s bedside. She took Hermione’s small, broken hand in hers and stared at her intently.

“What happened, Maggie? That you know about,” McGonagall asked softly.

“Harry overexerted himself, as far as I know,” I sighed, “Neville and I were in the battle when we heard some Death Eaters were chasing him, to try and capture him and bring him to Voldemort. We caught up with them and I knocked over the Death Eaters as a dragon, but Harry was coughing up a lot… a _lot_ of blood,” I choked out, “It was honestly horrifying. He basically collapsed right there, but Neville and I carried him to safety. We then heard… screaming.”

Neville’s eyes were closed tightly, and he was weeping silently next to me. I wrapped my arms around him tightly in response.

“It was Hermione. We just. We just _knew_. So we ran together, Harry insisting on hobbling along behind us, and we found her in an alley… there were five of them and they just, they were just, beating her. With clubs. And calling her slurs and it was awful, just awful. I knocked one to the ground… probably killed him… as a dragon. Harry stunned another one. Neville attacked another and I knocked another one to the wall, but the fifth one blew up the wall and it crumbled on top of Neville and Hermione,” I took in a deep breath, “And Harry was in such terror he passed out. So I had to pull all the bricks off of them…”

Neville took my hand and squeezed it tightly, more tears leaking out of his eyes. McGonagall was also openly weeping.

“I am so sorry, Maggie,” McGonagall murmured. I nodded, crying more now and crawling next to Neville on the bed, unable to avoid the comfort of his arms any longer.

McGonagall held Hermione’s hand still, staring off into space with an expression that I didn’t think I fully knew how to fathom. I didn’t even know what to say in the silence, all of us sitting there as I tried to not think too much about what had happened.

“I am tired,” McGonagall whispered after a while, “Of almost losing you kids.”

I nodded, staring out into the space in front of me and crying again.

“If I could take you all away somewhere safe, I would,” McGonagall reiterated, “But I cannot.”

“I know,” I whispered softly. The door to the Wing opened and Dumbledore walked in, frowning slightly.

“Minerva, I was told you were up here, we should discuss –“

“Whatever you have to discuss,” McGonagall said tiredly, “We have to do so in front of Maggie.”

“Minerva, you know what we must go over is –“

“I made a promise,” McGonagall answered firmly, “And I intend to live up to it. So you could either save me the trouble and discuss this in front of her, or discuss this somewhere without her, and have me tell her everything anyway.”

Dumbledore frowned heavily, “You know my position on such things, Minerva.”

“I’m going to say what your position is, out loud, in front of her,” McGonagall snapped, standing to her feet, “These four have essentially given up their lives for this war and you insist on keeping them in the dark about so much, in the dark about things that they _must know_ , even about things I don’t know about that they should know, I feel, I think, and you know full well that keeping things from them does not work. They’ll find out anyway, and they’ll resent you for not having told them!”

Dumbledore looked at me and I glared at him. I had been through too much to play his games at the moment.

“Alright,” Dumbledore sighed, “Mr. Malfoy has finally said what we all knew.”

“Yes?” McGonagall asked sternly.

“His mission was to find a way for the Death Eaters to get into the castle without attacking it,” Dumbledore continued, “He was to take them to the Room of Requirement to retrieve an item. He does not know what the item is, exactly, only that it looks like a crown.”

“What do you think it is, Albus?” McGonagall asked breathlessly.

“I have my guesses,” Dumbledore frowned, “But based on what Herin has said in the past, it is an object of extreme dark magic and power. According to her, all the dragons who have come over have immediately felt the need to flee upon growing near to the castle; there is no other reason for this.”

“So this is what they’ve been trying to get?” I asked firmly.

“Yes,” Dumbledore acknowledged, “And they have not succeeded, thankfully. Many of them don’t even know where the Room of Requirement _is_ , which is why Mr. Malfoy was a major part of the plan at hand.”

“So he’s confessed everything?” McGonagall said sternly, “All aspects of his plan?”

“I believe so, yes. Conversing with Ms. Dewar has allowed him to see the trap he is falling into, and frankly, the badges and mistreatment by Umbridge last year disillusioned him with that side of things,” Dumbledore paused, “He may not be fully… rebellion… as it were but he has seen first hand which side is using brutal, violent methods towards people indiscriminately.”

“I don’t trust him,” I said immediately.

“Regardless of whether or not you do, Miss Johnson, I do wholeheartedly. He may have his moments of fear where he will take a step back, but I believe firmly that he fears Voldemort more,” Dumbledore paused, “You do not know everything about him.”

“No,” I agreed, “And I understand that he went through things I have no idea about. But I won’t trust him, ever. Not after everything he’s done.”

“Then I cannot make you,” Dumbledore paused, “Regardless, this is what I feared the mission was.”

“Do you have no idea at all what the object is in the Room?” McGonagall asked.

“Once again, I have a guess,” Dumbledore sighed, “But a guess is not good enough. Mr. Potter here,” Dumbledore gestured to Harry, “Is in charge of investigating whether or not my guess is correct.”

“Are you sure he’ll be able to do it?” I asked angrily. Dumbledore looked at me in surprise.

“Why, Miss Johnson,” Dumbledore said, “I would think you would have the utmost confidence in your brother –“

“Yeah, if this was the only thing he was worried about,” I stated, trying to not shout, but it was hard to fight the instinct, “But he has the rebellion, and his cough, and schoolwork, and he’s in a relationship with Hermione and she has problems too, and –“

“Yes, yes,” Dumbledore sighed, but he looked like he was not taking my concerns seriously, “Of course, I understand, but I have the utmost confidence in Mr. Potter –“

“So what will happen with Mr. Malfoy in the meantime?” McGonagall asked, interjecting before a real fight broke out. I knew she could see my anger in my eyes.

“He will be hidden here, in the castle, during every attack; far away from the Death Eaters. In theory, there shouldn’t be any more unless Mr. Malfoy says that he can take them to the item. He has not, according to him, even found it yet. Apparently getting time in the Room of Requirement is… difficult,” Dumbledore looked over at me with an amused expression. I simply rolled my eyes in response.

“Why must he know where it is?” I asked.

“Because the Death Eaters do not want to be in the castle any longer than necessary,” Dumbledore explained, “They are not here to fight, rather, they are here to retrieve the item. Fighting did not work, and they’re concentrating on this strategy.”

“Why is Voldemort obsessed with getting this item now?” I continued, “Rather than earlier?”

“Because of the dragons,” Dumbledore sighed, “He knows they can sense its presence and would have told me immediately.”

“So what will Mr. Malfoy do?” McGonagall asked.

“Continue to act as though he is trying to pinpoint the item. When the time is right,” Dumbledore paused, “He will caull them to retrieve it.”

“WHAT?!” I shouted.

“He will only do so when I and Mr. Potter are equipped and ready to destroy it,” Dumbledore explained, “We will do so, in the view of the Death Eaters sent to retrieve it. By doing so, we will be able to ensure that they no longer attack Hogwarts to retrieve the item.”

“And Mr. Malfoy?” McGonagall asked.

“He will be taken to safety immediately after this event,” Dumbledore reassured, “He has earned my trust and will be given the protections of our side.”

“What if they attack again?” I said.

“They will not be able to find it. The Room of Hidden Things – what the Room of Requirement becomes for things that are hidden away, such as this crown – is vast, infinite, and absolutely cluttered with a millennium of knick knacks, private items and forbidden objects. Frankly, it will be a miracle if I and Mr. Potter are able to locate it, knowing what we will know about it that the Death Eaters surely won’t –“

“What wouldn’t they know about it?” I demanded.

“Voldemort will only have told them the shape of the object and its general appearance, not anything about its dark magic,” Dumbledore paused, “Without that knowledge, it’s just another item in the room.”

“So if they attack again, they will be wasting their energy?” McGonagall asked.

“Yes. Of course, I will work as fast as I can with Mr. Potter to ensure another attack does not take place,” Dumbledore paused, “Doing so is the only way to save lives. The more attacks, the more we are all at risk.”

“Of course,” McGonagall sighed.

“I will now return to Mr. Malfoy, who is still in my office. Good day Minerva, Miss Johnson, Longbottom,” Dumbledore nodded. I turned to Neville, frowning at him. His eyes were wide, potentially with fear and apprehension. Without him able to speak, I couldn’t exactly be sure.

I rested my head against his shoulder and sat silently with him as McGonagall continued to sit at Hermione’s bedside. I didn’t really know what else to say. I could only hope that Dumbledore wasn’t making a grave error.

I was getting hungry, though, and it wasn’t the job of Pomfrey to provide food to someone who wasn’t actually in the Hospital Wing, so I made my way down to the Great Hall and sat down on the end of the Gryffindor table. Ginny sat across from me, smiling at me and puling out some potatoes from the dinner dishes.

“How are they doing?” Ginny asked seriously.

“Neville will be out soon but he won’t be able to talk for a while,” I sighed, “Hermione and Harry are in potion induced sleeps so they’ll heal.”

“Fuck,” Ginny groaned.

“Yeah. Hermione is really… really bruised up,” I whispered. I remembered the sight of those clubs being brought down on her and I almost vomited in my mouth.

“Hey, hey,” Ginny murmured, reaching across to grab my arm, “Look, this weekend we’re going to go off to Edinburgh – you know, a city that likes us –“

I smiled weakly.

“And we’re going to have another Pride Parade. We’re even going to have Order members there and everything,” Ginny smiled, “It’s been completely sanctioned, there will be high security, and I’ve gotten enough of the club on board.”

“Are you sure that it’s safe?” I frowned, “I’m not sure we should be leaving the castle right now.”

Ginny raised her eyebrows, “Really?”

“Really,” I reiterated, “I think we should stay here.”

Ginny frowned at me for a long time, “It was really bad, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” I sighed, “Look, let’s just have a party here. I’m not kidding.”

Ginny frowned again before nodding, “Alright. You do know there’s a rally scheduled for Cardiff on Sunday anyway, right?”

“There is?” I asked in surprise.

“Yup,” Ginny nodded, “Pete and Kat are going to speak about some of the stuff that happened here during Umbridge’s militaristic regime.”

“Oh geez,” I groaned, holding my face in my hands, “I don’t think this is a good idea –“

“I don’t think you can stop them, they’re bringing most of the DA,” Ginny frowned.

“Fuck,” I cried, running my fingers through my hair in nervousness, “Alright, well, I guess I should go –“

“The Order will be there, don’t worry,” Ginny explained.

“There are more Death Eaters out there. Lots more. It’s an absolute nightmare,” I explained, “I don’t think anyone should be leaving the castle any time soon.”

“Wow, you’re serious about this,” Ginny frowned.

“Yes!” I shouted, before lowering my voice, “You weren’t there, Gin. You weren’t there. It was…”

I swallowed and tried to block all the images in my brain – Umbridge, dead. Hermione, being beaten. Harry, collapsing while coughing up all of his blood.

“Look, no one can leave, it’s that simple.”

“Alright, let’s go talk to Sam and Ernie about it. They were in charge of leading the rally since you four were incapacitated,” Ginny frowned, “No idea where they are though.”

I looked over at the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables and saw neither of them. I rolled my eyes and looked back at Ginny.

“You know full well they’re shagging in a closet,” I snorted.

“Of course,” Ginny sighed, “I hate to say we should go into the lair of the beast, but –“

I laughed, which was a nice feeling after everything that happened.

“I’m serious, I don’t care if they’re full on up each other’s butts, we should find them and talk to them,” Ginny rolled her eyes.

“Alright, I’m always in the mood for being a cockblock,” I joked. We walked together through the castle, opening up random broom cupboards and old classrooms, but finding no sign of them.

“This is hopeless,” I groaned.

“As with most things in life, when we actively seek something out is when we are least likely to find it,” Ginny agreed with a sigh.

“What are you doing?”

I looked over to see Dean walking up to us, smirking in amusement.

“Looking for Sam and Ernie,” I grunted in annoyance.

“Did you check a broom closet?” Dean laughed.

“We’ve checked basically all of them,” Ginny rolled her eyes, “It’s hopeless.”

“That’s odd,” Dean frowned, “I definitely saw them go off somewhere together.”

“Do you know the direction?” I asked seriously.

“Yeah, up to the sixth floor,” Dean shrugged. I rolled my eyes and headed off with Ginny and Dean following close behind me.

“So how goes wedding planning?” Ginny joked, grinning at Dean.

“We’re planning, which is more than I thought would happen,” Dean beamed from ear to ear, “Katie and Alicia say that their lobbying might actually be making headway.”

“You’re kidding!” I said in surprise.

“Well, it’s relatively innocuous, and actually people are pissed off about the trans clinic being blown up last week,” Dean explained, “So they want to do a token thing I think.”

“And of course they pick same gender marriage, which has literally nothing to do with trans issues,” I snorted.

“Right?” Dean rolled his eyes, “But yeah, they’re making headway. So we’re probably going to have some sort of commitment party thing and then just get married at the Ministry as soon as it’s possible without any sort of big thing.”

“I think that’s a good idea,” Ginny agreed, “Are you sad you’ll never date anyone else?”

“Nah,” Dean grinned, “I love him and I always have, really. Yeah, I’ll never date anyone else, and won’t get to date a girl or nonbinary person, but I don’t really need to, you know? I have everything I could need or want.”

I smiled at him, “Yeah, I get that.”

“Of course you do,” Dean snorted.

“Honestly Maggie, how did you not see how inevitable you and Neville were?” Ginny giggled.

“I am kind of a dumbass when it comes to how people feel about me,” I admitted honestly.

“Eh, it all worked out and now you are as gross and adorable as we all knew you would be,” Dean snorted.

“I hate this war though,” I muttered, “I just want to be able to… to… to _trust_ that.”

I thought of Neville getting crushed under an avalanche of bricks and I tried my hardest to not vomit, once again.

“Yeah,” Dean sighed.

“You’re so confident that you won’t ever be with anyone else though, Dean,” Ginny frowned.

“I am,” Dean acknowledged.

“How?” I asked softly, “If this war means we can’t trust in –“

“I’m confident I’ll be the one to die,” Dean shrugged.

“Ah yes, a feeling I’m familiar with,” agreed.

“What the – why?” Ginny asked in shock.

“I’m more involved in the rebellion – a _lot_ more – I’m a lot more invested in fighting in the war – a _lot_ more – and haven’t you watched movies?” Dean snorted, “I’m the black guy. The black guy always dies.”

“Okay but that’s movies,” Ginny shook her head, “It’s not reality. It’s people using their racial bias to pick which characters to kill off.”

“Hard to remember that when it feels like your life is a story,” Dean muttered softly.

“It’s not,” I sighed, “Your first two points are valid but that one’s not. We’re all just… alive. Alive, and here.”

“And it’s possible that you both could live, or that Seamus could –“ Ginny continued.

Dean’s head snapped up and he looked at Ginny sternly, his dark skin twisting into a fierce, furious expression.

Ginny dropped it and didn’t say anything further as we walked up to the sixth floor together.

“So how has Seamus’ mum reacted to the news?” I asked seriously after the awkward silence had gone on for what was probably too long.

“She’s very pleased actually,” Dean laughed, “I think us getting married makes her a little less… I dunno. Residually homophobic? Something about the commitment aspect or what have you.”

“That’s good then,” I snorted, “And your mum?”

“She’s ridiculously happy and has been helping us plan,” Dean rolled his eyes, “But I’m glad. I couldn’t do it on my own.”

“If you need any help I can do my best!” Ginny said, grinning, “I wouldn’t mind!”

“That would be awesome, thanks Ginny,” Dean said. I opened up a broom closet and grunted in annoyance when I saw no one was in it.

“Are you sure it was the sixth floor Dean?” I sighed.

“I’m absolutely positive – where did those wankers go –“ Dean grunted in annoyance, opening up another classroom door and shouting in his frustration.

I could hear a faint morning in the distance and I immediately ran towards it, rolling my eyes as I ducked around a corner in the corridor and sprinted forward. I could hear Dean and Ginny following me as I followed the sound, Ginny snorting with laughter as she heard it too. Dean was just rolling his eyes as we reached the door where the moaning was very loud and noticeable and quite disturbing when you got right down to it.

I wrenched the door open and glared, folding my arms across my chest as I did so. Sam and Ernie were decidedly shagging, completely naked in the broom closet, with Ernie behind Sam and both having expressions of passion and ecstasy on their faces that were embarrassing for me to observe.

“Put it back into your pants, gents,” Ginny said, snorting as she looked at them, “We have to discuss stuff.”

“Really?” Sam gasped out, looking up at Ginny and glaring at her, “ _REALLY?!_ ”

“I’m a little busy,” Ernie squeaked.

“Okay,” Dean snorted, “Let’s let them finish and stand out here awkwardly so that they feel even more embarrassed than they already do.”

“Oi!” Ernie shouted breathlessly as I closed the door and rolled my eyes, staring into the hallway with my arms still over my chest.

“We can’t finish if you’re out there!” Sam shouted behind the door.

“Alright, we are very obviously walking away,” Ginny lied, grinning at me and making stomping motions with her feet. Dean and I joined in, all trying to hold in our laughter.

“Alright!” Ginny continued, cupping her hand around her mouth to make her voice sound like it was far away, “Carry on!”

“Why are we still here though?” I whispered in Ginny’s ear.

“So they can’t bloody well get away,” Ginny whispered back as Dean held back his giggling; their moaning and other various sex noises were now ridiculously loud and I honestly didn’t know why we _didn’t_ just walk down the hallway.

“Seriously though,” Dean rolled his eyes as they started screaming behind the door, confident they wouldn’t hear his whispered words, “Why are we standing next to the door?”

“Because now they’ll hear us walking?” Ginny hissed quietly, grimacing in pain.

“I think you _wanted_ to hear them,” I accused softly.

“What? No!” Ginny protested.

“I agree,” Dean grinned, “I think you wanted to overhear this because you’re secretly curious.”

“Oh shove off!” Ginny shoved him to demonstrate her words. Dean giggled quietly and I snorted with him.

“You’re totally curious and want to overhear them having sex,” I muttered quietly as they clearly were both starting to orgasm in the closet, “You’re completely flushed right now.”

Ginny flicked me, her lips pursed together in fury as she did so. Dean was giggling happily.

“Do you want to be in a sandwich with them, Ginny?” Dean teased.

“Ernie is completely gay!” Ginny hissed.

“Sam isn’t,” I chortled.

“I’m going to hit both of you in the teeth –“ Ginny continued as the door opened. Sam looked out at us and immediately started glaring.

“You didn’t walk away at all!” Sam protested.

“Blame Ginny,” I snorted.

“What now?” Ernie asked, clearly breathless and flushed as he followed Sam out of the closet.

“Ginny is the reason why we did not actually walk down the hallway,” Dean rolled his eyes.

“And why ever not?” Ernie asked in a squeaky voice, looking utterly embarrassed and flushed from head to foot.

“It seemed like a good idea at the time, now let’s all drop it,” Ginny said sternly, looking at Dean and I and glaring. I just sniggered again.

“Right, why did you kill the mood and interrupt us?” Sam asked, rolling his eyes. They both smelled way too much like sex and I was trying really hard to ignore it.

“Maggie thinks we need to cancel the rally on Sunday,” Ginny said simply.

“Because of Aberdeen?” Ernie asked, frowning.

“Yeah,” I sighed, “It was so terrible. I don’t think it’s safe to go anywhere. We really should just, stay in the castle for a while.”

“No one is going to go along with that,” Sam shook his head sadly.

“But I –“

“I understand, but, no one is,” Sam shrugged, “You could tell everyone to say but they’re going to go anyway.”

I frowned heavily, “Then I’ll come too.”

“Are you sure Maggie?” Ginny asked nervously.

“There will be plenty of Order members there to guard and watch,” Ernie agreed.

“I don’t care,” I sighed, “It was worth a shot to try and talk you lot out of it. See you all.” I left to go back to the Hospital Wing, too tired to continue discussing.

I was too tired for most things, that week. I spent my time in the Hospital Wing with the others, not doing much else besides go to class and eat. Neville was still not talking but he wasn’t supposed to; he was happy to just read some books and relax in his hospital bed as I sat with him. McGonagall was there from time to time sitting by Hermione’s side; both she and Harry were still unconscious.

“Are you at least going to come to the party?” Ginny sighed at dinner; Valentine’s day having been spent by Neville and I in silence, me reading his book with him and both of us sharing physical affection as we did so.

“Fine, I’ll come,” I sighed, “Since it was my idea. What time and place?”

“Room of Requirement, tomorrow evening. It’s going to be ridiculously rainbow themed?” Ginny offered.

“Thank you for that,” I laughed, “Alright. I’ll come.”

“It’ll be loads of fun,” Ginny reassured, beaming at me. I rolled my eyes at her even more.

“So you say,” I snorted. Nothing seemed that fun lately.

“Are you okay, Maggie?” Ginny asked softly.

“I had another traumatic experience… what do you think?” I muttered softly.

“I just… I know what happened but I think there’s something else wrong,” Ginny whispered.

I sighed heavily, “I’ll tell you later, okay?”

“Okay,” Ginny nodded.

That Saturday Neville was feeling better enough to leave his bed, finally. He had had more physical injuries than Pomfrey could tell, mainly due to his inability to talk; he had to stay longer as a result but now he could finally walk. His voice was starting to come back too, though it was hoarse and he obviously wasn’t supposed to strain it more than necessary.

“I love you,” Neville whispered to me immediately after Pomfrey said he was supposed to start using it sparingly and carefully.

“I love you,” I murmured softly, reaching down and kissing him, “Can he go and do things?”

“I swear to god, if you’re taking him to another city that’s going to get attacked and –“

“No, there’s a party tonight for Alliance, and since he’s the leader of it I figured he should go,” I rolled my eyes. Neville smiled at me happily at that.

“Fine, fine. Just don’t drink _any alcohol_ ,” Pomfrey said sternly.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Neville croaked out.

“Honestly,” Pomfrey scoffed, before going back to check on Hermione and Harry.

“How are they doing?” I asked softly.

“Ms. Granger is healing slowly but steadily,” Pomfrey reassured, “Her limb bones are almost completely healed, but her ribs are still broken so I would like to keep her unconscious for a little while longer so they can heal properly. Also, just so she won’t feel the pain. As for Mr. Potter, his lungs are finally starting to scab up for the first time since… December, so I’m definitely going to keep him under for a while. Hopefully this should work. He’ll still probably break them open when he insists on doing too much physical activity,” Pomfrey glared angrily, “But the problem will be less so. Maybe fewer complete collapses from loss of blood and more just small amounts of it dribbling forth even if he’s been running for a while.”

“That would be good,” I acknowledged.

“Alright, well, it would be good for Longbottom to get some exercise. Go, go,” Pomfrey waved. I helped Neville out of the Hospital Wing and down to our room, where the raptors immediately surrounded him and started chirping happily. Neville sat on the floor with all of them, happily giving all of the adults scritchles and picking up each chick and kissing it on the top of its head. The chicks were growing larger, almost a third the size of the adults, but they still loved the little kisses that Neville was giving them.

“Do you want to wear something really feminine today love?” I asked him softly. Neville nodded, looking up at me and smiling. I helped him get dressed into a dress I had bought for him for a belated Christmas present; it was a dress made out of denim with a belt around the middle, flaring out below the belt. Neville beamed at me happily and put on high heeled, knee high boots as well, putting on makeup and shaking out his hair. I kissed him lovingly on the lips despite his lipstick and threw on my own queerest clothing, shorts with thigh high socks that were rainbow, purple high-top trainers, and a black tank top that you could see my rainbow bra underneath. Neville grinned at me and kissed me wetly, making me squeak softly as he held tightly to me.

“Neville control yourself,” I giggled, stroking his cheek and his lips softly.

Neville just grinned at me more and gave me a longer kiss. I snorted happily and pulled back from him.

“I love you,” he said softly.

“You are allowed to speak a little,” I reminded, smiling at him softly.

“I can’t… imagine,” he choked out, “what it was like to see –“

“I don’t want to think about it,” I muttered quietly. Neville nodded and took my hand, us walking together to the Room of Requirement and opening the door.

I would have expected _literally_ anyone else to be snogging in there, but no, it was Elena and Claire. Their shirts were off and they were giggling, and I did not need to see my sister’s tongue down her girlfriend’s mouth while they were touching each other’s breasts. I groaned and covered my eyes immediately at the sight.

“Oops!” Claire gasped as Elena squeaked in horror.

“I thought the party was for more people than just you,” Neville whispered, giggling a little.

“You wasted voice time on _that_?” I shouted in bemusement.

“Sorry! Sorry!” Elena squeaked out, pulling on her polo shirt and flushing madly, “I’m sorry!”

“I don’t really care about what you’re doing but for the love of god I don’t need to _see_ it!” I shrieked out.

“I know, I know!” Elena groaned, but Claire was laughing happily. I uncovered my eyes to see Claire wrapping her arms around Elena and kissing her on the cheek, swaying back and forth a bit as Elena blushed as red as a tomato.

“Alright, hopefully Ginny will be here soon,” I rolled my eyes, sitting down next to Claire and glaring at her slightly.

“Oh don’t you want your little sister to be happy?” Claire teased.

“Fine, snog all over the place for all I care,” I rolled my eyes. Elena blushed even more but rested her head in Claire’s bosom, making me roll my eyes again and face Neville in bemusement.

Neville just smiled at me reassuringly and kissed me on the nose, making me smile back at him. My mind was still a whirlwind of horror and confusion but at the very least he made me feel okay.

Ginny bounded in then, beaming at me and turning the room into a cacophony of rainbows and flags for different identities, putting on music and setting up a designated snogging corner. Claire grabbed Elena’s hand and skipped off too it, hiding behind the curtain and laughing noticeably.

“They’re going to take off each other’s shirts,” I told Ginny matter-of-factly.

“Well… uh… I guess I never set rules for the snogging corner,” Ginny frowned as members of Alliance walked in and started chit chatting and dancing.

“You could set them up now,” I teased.

“Eh, they’re thirteen – fourteen? They won’t do anything too… ridiculous… right?” Ginny asked with a grimace.

“Who knows,” I threw my hands up in bemusement, “Who freaking knows.”

I grabbed Neville by the hand and pulled him in close to me, the two of us dancing in the middle of a giant pit of people dancing and having fun. There were other people playing board games in corners and sadly, the snogging corner could not contain the number of people who were snogging everywhere. I didn’t mind at all, though; it was nice to have everyone around me be happy and carefree for once. I rested my head on Neville’s shoulder and smiled up at him, him smiling silently and lovingly back down at me.

I looked around the room as we swayed together, smiling to myself as I did so. Alicia had come to visit Katie and the two of them were dancing together, giggling and laughing with each other happily. Dean and Seamus were also dancing, and Dean was spinning Seamus around underneath his arm. Miles Martinez had finally realized her identity as a genderfluid person, and she was a girl today, wearing a beautiful skirt and blouse and dancing with her friend Nina Jacobs, who had discovered they were agender and was wearing mostly masculine clothing that day. The two were adorable and young and so happy at realizing who they were, it gave me hope. Ginny was dancing with Parvati Patil, the two of them laughing together, and it made me happy to see. I hoped that Ginny would be able to move on from Nadia eventually. Nadia, meanwhile, was deep in conversation with Susan bones, which also made me happy – she, more than Ginny, had been thrown in the lurch from the breakup. Ernie and Sam were snogging in a corner again, but I honestly didn’t mind. I had seen worse from them.

Much worse.

Neville spun me around underneath his arm and I giggled happily, leaning up to kiss him lovingly.

“Nev!”

We looked to see Nadia walking up to us, grinning a little.

“Nice dress,” she smiled at him, “Really suits you.”

“Thanks!” Neville croaked out, beaming widely.

“How have you ben, Nads?” I asked seriously, frowning at her. Nadia sighed, scratching the back of her head somewhat.

“I’ve been… heartbroken. And wanting time on my own,” Nadia said firmly, “But I also want to still be friends with you all. Even Ginny. It’s just hard.”

“Yeah,” I nodded, “I get that.”

“I just. I find Susan attractive,” Nadia whispered softly, “She’s very cute. But. I don’t feel like I can trust someone again like that. Ginny broke my trust, you know?”

Neville frowned deeply in understanding.

“How do I rebuild that trust again?” Nadia asked quietly.

“It takes time,” I admitted, “Honestly, Nadia, I wouldn’t have ever had a major relationship again unless the person who I fell for was also someone I deeply, utterly trusted before everything that had happened. But, no offense, what George did to me is a bit worse than what Ginny did to you.”

“I know,” Nadia sighed, “I hope I can trust people again. I know I should be able to.”

“It’ll take time,” I reassured, “And you should not rush into anything. But you should take time to understand yourself and how you want to go forward in terms of romance in the future.”

“Also,” Neville croaked out, clearly in pain to do so. I glared at him, but he continued anyway.

“You should – not hold it against Ginny. She’s going through – a lot. And she’s – not well – up here –“ Neville tapped against his skull, “So that – didn’t help. She’s also – young. Very young. It’s hard – to deal – with these things – when you’re – young.”

“Yeah,” Nadia sighed, “You’re right. You’re right.”

I smiled weakly at Nadia, “Look, you don’t have to be friends with her again. You don’t. I mean, she hurt you, and we’ll all respect that. But you should understand what happened from her perspective regardless.”

“I’m trying,” Nadia reassured softly. Ginny had stopped dancing with Parvati and was now talking quietly with Justin. Nadia watched the scene, sighed, smiled at us, and left. I looked up at Neville sadly, him kissing me lovingly on the forehead in reassurance.

We spent the night dancing and kissing and talking to mates and hanging out and giggling and even playing Exploding Snap with some of the people who didn’t want to dance in the back, some of whom were asexual and aromantic, others who weren’t. We then went to bed, as the next day we would be going out to Cardiff; me happy to be back in my own bed with the raptors surrounding us with Neville next to me, holding me tightly in his arms.

It was helping my whirlwind of a mind start to slow down a little.

“How’s your voice today, Nev?” Ginny asked as we all got into the bus to go to Cardiff. Neville shrugged, rolling his eyes and sighing.

“I can – talk – a little – more,” he whispered.

“But he still needs to rest his voice,” I said sternly.

“Thanks for that,” he grunted softly.

“Well you don’t have to speak at this one,” Ginny reassured as Lupin and Sirius climbed onto the bus with us and it started moving; most of the DA was there, chatting and laughing happily as Dean proudly shouted that everyone there was invited to the commitment ceremony while Seamus looked on, blushing ridiculously.

“Thanks for that,” Neville repeated.

“I’m just saying –“

“Yes yes, it’s very nice of you Ginny, thank you,” I rolled my eyes in bemusement, “Wasn’t this for Pete and Kat anyway?”

“Yeah,” Ginny admitted, “Fair enough.”

“So did you have a nice time with Parvati last night?” I teased, grinning at her.

“Yes,” Ginny rolled her eyes, “But I don’t think I want to date her.”

“Too soon after Nadia?” I offered.

“Not even that,” Ginny frowned, “I’m just not in a place to be dating anyone right now. My mind is still…”

“A whirlwind?” I said softly.

“Yes,” Ginny frowned, “Are you… doing okay?”

I looked at her sadly and tried to open my mouth to speak, but Kat was singing songs again and I sat back, staring out of the window.

Umbridge, dead.

Mouth, open.

Eyes, vacant.

Life, gone.

Cause? Me.

I was the cause of death.

I shuddered softly and turned back to Neville, burying my face in his chest. He held me tightly, not asking me any questions as we drove through the British countryside and got to Cardiff faster than we should have, because Magic Bus.

We got out and walked to the Cardiff pub where the wixen would hang out, Kat and Pete congregating together at the podium to speak. I stood next to them by Neville’s side, holding his hand tightly with my right hand, holding out my wand with my left. I watched everyone like a hawk, my eyes narrowed, waiting for trouble. I didn’t want any. I couldn’t _handle_ any.

Kat spoke about what Umbridge had done, again; it was jarring to hear her name and I blocked it out. Pete also chimed in about the horrors they had all faced. The misgendering, the abuse, the violence, the racism, the prejudice and bigotry and hatred and everything – just, everything. All the things I hadn’t been there for.

_She had to die._

I acted instinctually

_She had to pay for what she did –_

I am not the hand of the law.

_She nearly killed you_

But it wasn’t my job

_She raped Ernie_

I shouldn’t have done anything

  _She tortured all of those kids_

I should have stunned her and ran away

_She would have killed you_

Perhaps I would have deserved it

_She wanted you dead. She wanted you gone. She thought of you as a savage and an animal. You had to do it._

Perhaps it was her face. It was too shocked, too striking, too surprised. She was more than surprised I was killing her.

Was she surprised I wasn’t a dragon when I did it?

Surprised I didn’t use knives or arrows or fists?

Surprised I killed her in what she would consider a civilized, human way – with my wand?

Surprised I was human after all?

I swayed a bit in my spot. Neville held me up and looked at me worriedly as Pete began to finish up their speech. I held my head in my hands and tried to think clearly but I found that I was unable to. Neville kept holding me up as the crowd clapped for Pete and Kat, chanting things that sounded positive and they usually were when they spoke – those two had gifts for words that were absolutely mesmerizing.

“Mags? Do you need to lie down?” Ginny whispered softly as people started to leave the pub.

“Yeah, but aren’t we just going back?” I asked quietly.

“Yeah but you can lie down on the bus,” Ginny stated firmly, “I’ll make sure there’s space.”

“Okay,” I whispered quietly. Neville helped lead me back to the bus and I lied down on a seat of it, staring out in front of me and trying to not think about it anymore. Neville knelt next to me, gently stroking my face and watching me carefully with a worried expression. I just smiled at him weakly, trying to move through the thoughts exploding in my head.

“I love you,” Neville murmured softly. I smiled at him weakly.

“I love you,” I whispered.

“Nothing you could do would ever change that,” Neville reassured.

“Nothing you could do would ever change that,” I reiterated, nodding at him.

“You’re okay. You’re okay, Mags. You’re not a horrible person. You’re okay,” Neville promised.

It was so wonderful to hear him say this. It was what I had needed all week. I pulled him in for a kiss, holding tightly to him. He pulled me into his arms and held me lovingly, trailing small kisses on my face.

I closed my eyes and rested my head on his shoulder.

A tire popped.

The bus swerved.

I screamed and fell forward, pulling Neville with me and refusing to let go of him.

Everyone screamed.

Everyone was screaming.

The bus was swerving everywhere and tossing and turning and I _knew that something like this would happen –_

It was rolling now, rolling on its side, going down a hill – down – down – down – down –

We finally stopped rolling.

The bus was on it’s side and I was crumpled in a heap against the window.

Neville was groaning next to me softly. He shouldn’t have come. Oh, why did he come?

I weakly got to my feet and climbed out of the bus, and it felt like something was broken – my leg, maybe? I ignored it.

I ran outside and looked around at where we were. We were in a ditch, in a forest, and there were Death Eaters. A whole herd of them, approaching the bus.

“Come out come out little rebels!” the high pitched, angry voice of Bellatrix Lestrange cackled. I hissed angrily and clenched my fists, ignoring the pain in my body.

“Bring us Potter!”

“WE DON’T HAVE HIM!” I screamed.

“Then I shall take you, so he’ll be forced to rescue you,” Lestrange grinned wickedly.

“LEAVE ME ALONE!” I screamed, throwing out a huge ball of fire towards her. She dodged it and laughed as the other Death Eaters started to circle me and the other students who had climbed out of the bus.

“I don’t think you could kill me if you tried, little girl!”

“You’d be surprised,” I growled, and I immediately started fighting her angrily as everyone started fighting each other, underage kids fighting against Death Eaters, Sirius and Lupin doing their best and sending out a call for help. I twirled fire over my head and shot balls of it at Lestrange, I spun around on my feet, though it hurt a _lot_ , and enveloped her in flames. She screamed at me and threw the flames around her, dissipating them; her hair was on fire but she didn’t seem to care about that anymore, twirling it about her as she sent it towards me. I roared and transformed, diving at her head and whacking her with my tail club as she screamed in shock. I breathed fire into her face and pulled back, hovering over her and hissing at her as she screamed in pain.

“YOU LITTLE –“

I roared again and breathed more fire on her, but there was screaming again. I transformed and landed on the ground, my hand supporting me between my knees as I crouched against it. Kat was fighting against who looked to be Narcissa Malfoy and was losing, a green curse narrowly missing her head as she screamed.

“NO!”

I turned to see Pete screaming, and suddenly he shouted, “REDUCTO” at the top of his lungs. Trees started toppling over and the Death Eaters were blasted backwards, an explosion of forest floor and dirt sending them everywhere as the rest of us were blasted backwards. I hit a tree and groaned in pain – I was certain more parts of me were broken now.

“Maggie!”

I looked up to see Pete fretting above me, looking absolutely panicked.

“Pete, it’s okay,” I grunted softly.

“But –“

“Let’s just get everyone out of here,” I reassured, standing to my feet. Pete looked at me in terror as I wobbled over to Sirius, who was standing up himself.

“What do we do?” I asked softly.

“Order members are on their way. I’ll deal with the bus tomorrow,” Sirius grunted, “The Death Eaters won’t be back. They know we don’t have Harry.”

“Right,” I sighed. I climbed into the bus again, where some of the more able bodied students were helping people out of the wrecked vehicle. I grabbed Neville and helped him out, him holding me tightly and looking at me in terror.

I kissed him softly and helped him to rest against a tree, staring out in front of me tiredly. Everyone had been evacuated from the bus, but Lupin was walking to me with a horrified expression.

“What?” I asked him worried, looking up at my old Professor in fright.

“Lavender Brown is nearly dead,” Lupin said softly, “Hannah Abbot as well.”

I stood up rapidly even though it made my head rush, “What –“

“The crash – they were badly thrown about in the bus and – they aren’t going to last much longer –“

People were screaming as they overheard Lupin’s words and I held my face in my hands in horror.

“Are you sure, Remus –“ Sirius asked him but I could barely hear. Everything felt like my mind was flooding again.

I knew we shouldn’t have gone.

I knew it.

I knew it.

I knew.

I knew.

I.

I.

I fainted.

I woke up in the Hospital Wing again. I groaned and held my face in my hands, not exactly happy that I was back in this place that I had seen far too much of this term. I looked around me wildly to see Madam Pomfrey patching up other students who had been hurt in the crash, tears on her face – it was always so strange to see that happen, though I supposed I wasn’t exactly surprised.

“Ah good, Miss Johnson, you’re awake,” Pomfrey said brusquely, “I’ve healed up your broken bones and you should be fine to go.”

“How long have I been out?” I asked seriously.

“Only a few hours,” Pomfrey reassured, “No need to worry.”

I sighed heavily, “Did anyone else die?”

Pomfrey looked at me sadly, “No. Only Miss Brown and Miss Abbot.”

I nodded and got up, straightening myself out, “Thank you.” I walked down to my room again and pulled Blue in my arms, holding her tightly. I let the chicks crawl all over me and stared off into space as Neville came and wrapped his arms around me, clearly having waited for me in the room.

“Are you okay?” I asked softly.

“Yeah,” Neville croaked, “Only a broken arm. Pomfrey fixed that quickly enough.”

I nodded and nestled into his chest, but the guilt was now eating me alive.

The week went on, and I went through the motions. I was tired. I was sad. I was guilty. I was so ridden with guilt that I don’t remember the details much, only that Neville was beginning to talk more and the entire school was in mourning and we wouldn’t be giving speeches for a long while, if ever, again. It was too dangerous. Everything was too dangerous.

Life was too dangerous.

“Maggie,” Neville croaked out on Wednesday, looking at me earnestly. I looked up at him and frowned, setting down my fork.

“What?” I asked softly.

“Hermione’s awake,” Neville grinned at me. I gasped, joy filling my heart for the first time since Umbridge had ambushed me. I sprinted through the castle, Neville following me closely, as I reached the Hospital Wing. Hermione was sitting up, looking about the room nervously and even twitching a little, but I didn’t care. I threw my arms around her and she gasped in shock, me pulling back from the hug to look at her through my tears.

“You’re alive,” we said in unison, and she laughed weakly with me as Neville enveloped the two of us in a hug.

Maybe, things would be okay now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the comments! I'll respond to things soon, it's late again and I need to go to bed. PLEASE if you can read the deleted scenes that I and Max have posted! We've each posted a story since the last time I mentioned it that's 100% canon! You can find them in the Changes Everything Series page linked in the story description. Thanks! And PLEASE comment! Max (plokool) especially would appreciate some (but you know so would I).


	127. Chapter One Hundred and Twenty Five: February 19 – 20, 1997, Hogwarts and Northern Scotland

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Done me wrong  
> Done all wrong  
> All the wrong I've done  
> I'm sure I'll live quite long 
> 
> Done all wrong  
> Done me wrong  
> All the wrong I've done  
> I'm sure I'll live quite, quite long 
> 
> All the wrong I've done  
> Will be undone in song  
> All the wrong I've done  
> Will be undone in song 
> 
> If you're doing wrong  
> If you've done all wrong  
> You can rest assure  
> You're gonna live quite long 
> 
> If you've done all wrong  
> You're doing wrong  
> You can rest assure  
> You're gonna live quite, quite long 
> 
> All the wrong you've done  
> Will be undone in song  
> All the wrong you've done  
> Will be undone in song 
> 
> We're doing wrong  
> We've all done wrong  
> If we do no wrong  
> I'm sure we would be gone."  
> ~ Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, "Done All Wrong"

Chapter 125: February 19 – 20, 1997, Hogwarts and Northern Scotland

I sat next to Hermione’s bed and held her hand tightly, smiling at her through watery eyes. She beamed back at me and sat up a little in the bed, wincing as she did so. She was still shaking.

“How are you alive?” Hermione asked in a breathless voice.

“Well you see, we ran into the woods and hid there,” I explained, grinning somewhat. Seeing her up and talking again could dispel any residual guilt still in my brain. Since it was so extensive, however, it probably wasn’t residual.

“Okay but we _saw Umbridge run after you_ ,” Hermione whispered, her voice choking up, “We thought –“

I held up my finger and looked around the room; no one else was there as Pomfrey had gone back to her office and closed the door. I swallowed and turned back to Hermione, frowning and bracing myself.

“I… killed her,” I whispered very quietly.

“WHAT?” Hermione screeched.

“Hermione,” Neville said, straining his voice again, “Calm down.”

“HOW – WHAT – HOW –“

“Hermione, I’ve been freaking out for more than a week, okay? Please, I don’t need to feel any more guilty than I already do –“

“Why would you feel _guilty_?” Hermione asked breathlessly.

“Because I broke the law and I –“

“That crazed monster was after you! I’m assuming you did it in self defense!” Hermione said in amazement.

“I mean… yes,” I mumbled.

“You should have done it a year ago!” Hermione insisted.

“I mean… I…” I flushed madly and looked down, my heart in my throat.

“She used the killing curse,” Neville muttered quietly.

“Oh,” Hermione breathed, “Well. You still shouldn’t feel guilty. Ultimately that was probably the most painless way you could have killed her.”

“But –“

“Look, you did what you had to. This is war,” Hermione took a deep breath. Her fingers were twitching madly again and her eyes were flashing around the room quite wildly before veering back to me, “In war we have to do terrible things.”

“Hermione…”

“Look I don’t want to talk right now. I need to relax. Can I get something to relax? My mind is spinning,” Hermione begged.

“I –“ I didn’t know how to respond.

“Madam Pomfrey?” Neville called, running off to her office as I stayed with Hermione.

“Why is Harry unconscious?” she asked, her voice shaking, “Is Harry OK?

“Harry is just fine,” I promised, squeezing her hand, “He’s out so his lungs can heal a bit, that’s all.”

“Oh that’s good,” Hermione sighed, “That’s very good. Good. Good. Good.”

“Hermione…”

“So what else has been going on? What else has happened? What –“ Hermione was talking very fast and it was concerning.

“Hermione, slow down,” I begged, “Take a deep breath.”

“I can’t, please, tell me what’s happened to everyone,” Hermione stammered out as Neville and Madam Pomfrey walked over together, Madam Pomfrey handing Hermione a potion. She drank it in one gulp and almost instantaneously fell asleep.

“She didn’t even let me say the instructions,” Pomfrey frowned.

“Should she have drunk it slower?” Neville asked nervously.

“Yes, it would have relaxed her over time rather than knocking her out, but, well, I suppose she could use the rest,” Pomfrey sighed, “She’ll be up again in a few hours.”

I nodded, staring at her nervously before turning back to Neville.

“Well, she’s royally fucked up,” I stated simply. Neville nodded, sighing and running his hands through his hair.

“We need to get Shae down here, probably?” Neville asked. I frowned, furrowing my brow.

“But, she’s fighting up there, against the giants –“

“She agreed to be our therapist though,” Neville sighed, “Yeah, a lot of people have stopped needing counselling, and most of the rest of us have been okay with cutting back our meeting times, but Dr. Wilson can only pick up so much slack, and you saw her just now –“

“I did,” I agreed quietly, “I just don’t want to take attention away from the front, as it were.”

“Well, we’ll write her,” he said firmly, “We have to at least try.”

“That’s fair,” I sighed, sitting down, “I just wonder… if I shouldn’t offer to trade.”

“Maggie –“ Neville protested sternly.

“I’m not kidding. If they lose Shae, well, they’ll need someone to take her place, sometimes,” I shook my head, “I’ll go.”

“No, don’t be ridiculous –“

“Why would you stop me?”

“Because I don’t want you to get hurt –“

“I apparently get hurt no matter what I do!” I threw up my hands in frustration, “Why should staying at home make any difference? If Hermione needs Shae, she needs Shae.”

Neville groaned and held his face in his hands. He then looked up at me again and frowned, sighing heavily.

“Okay, I don’t know how to argue with you on this,” he sighed.

“Really?” I asked, frowning.

“Yeah. You’re right. No where is safe anyway,” he threw up his hands much as I had, “And if they need help, they need help. But I’m coming with you.”

“You aren’t even an _animagus_ –“

“So? I’m a water elementalist, I can take care of myself in, you know, the largely ocean bound isles of the north,” Neville rolled his eyes at me in annoyance.

“I… okay,” I sighed, recognizing that he had a fair point, “But we need to get her here soon, I think.”

Neville looked over at Hermione mournfully before nodding, “Yeah. Soon would… definitely be good.”

I took Neville’s hand and went with him to our room. I pulled out parchment and a quill and started writing to Shae, as he sat down and played with the growing ever larger raptor chicks.

“Where the hell are we supposed to keep all of these guys?” Neville demanded sternly as I wrote my proposition to Shae in rapid, messy handwriting.

“I dunno,” I said, not really paying attention as I tried to figure out a way to phrase my plan that Shae _might_ have been on board with.

“I mean it, Mags, we can’t keep them in our room forever,” Neville sighed.

I rolled my eyes and folded up my letter, sealing it, “Yeah, I know Nev. But do you have a better idea?”

Neville sighed heavily, “I don’t know.”

“The only other idea I’ve come up with,” I admitted sadly, “Is to give them away.”

“Oh?” Neville asked in confusion.

“Yeah. I don’t even have to put permanent magic spells on them. They just… are. They have the DNA of the raptor like thing that they are and the one single cell that they got from Blue and Ave is dead, so literally nothing will revert back if I die,” I paused, “When they’re old enough to go away from Blue, we will give them away to students at the school who want them.”

“Blue will never get on board with that,” Neville frowned.

“Probably not,” I agreed, “But I have no idea how to communicate this to her.”

“Well… maybe it’s natural for them. I mean, they can’t have infinitely growing packs. Maybe it’s normal for the raptors to go off on their own when they get old enough, and start their own pack?” Neville offered.

“Yeah, actually,” I looked at him in shock, “That makes sense… I hope that’s the case. I wish I could, well, I wish I could learn how to talk to Blue and how to ask her if this is true or not.”

“You and Blue have your own intersectional language,” Neville soothed, pulling me out of my chair and gently stroking my face, “You’ll figure each other out about this eventually.”

“Thanks,” I smiled slightly, “I love you.”

“I love you,” Neville kissed me lovingly, before sitting down with the chicks. They were about half the size of the adults now, and growing ever faster; they were hopping and skipping all over him as he laughed. Their downier feathers were steadily being replaced with tougher ones, though very few of the complexity typically seen in modern birds.

“One downside to this plan,” Neville sighed. I raised one of my eyebrows, sitting next to him and looking at him in confusion.

“I’ll miss them,” Neville shrugged, holding Aisha near his face and nuzzling up against her.

“I will too,” I smiled slightly, “You do realize one day we’ll have our own children, and they’ll have to leave, too.”

Neville looked at me for a long time, before reaching out to me and pulling me closer to him. I looked at him in confusion as he did this, frowning as I sat basically in his lap and the raptors were removed from it.

“It’s funny,” he finally murmured after a while, his face resting on my shoulder and buried in my head, “How last year I would have given anything to hear you talk about our future like that.”

“What’s wrong with me doing so now?” I asked softly, frowning in confusion and worry.

“I don’t know if I believe in our ability to have one anymore,” Neville mumbled quietly. I pulled back from him and immediately gripped his face in my hands, pressing my forehead and nose to his. He breathed in sharply and looked at me desperately, tears leaking from his eyes as he did so.

“Listen to me,” I mumbled, potentially too harshly. Neville nodded.

“We might not have a future. I am… the _last_ person to argue with that,” I took a deep breath, “But Neville. You know – you know just as well as I that thinking that will not help us. So what if we don’t have a future? We have the present. We have each other. And we can’t – ruin – what we _definitely have_ – with despair about what we may or may not.”

Neville looked at me and nodded, swallowing visibly, “I know. Just… after what happened to Hannah and Lavender –“

“Yeah,” I agreed softly, “Yeah.”

Blue had climbed into my lap and was resting there. I turned around so my back was nestled against Neville’s chest, and I began petting Blue gently as the baby raptors started climbing all over Neville and me again. Neville made a small, happy sound and rested his head in the crook of my neck, wrapping all of his limbs around me tightly.

“I just – can’t believe that that’s how they died. Because those – wankers – attacked our bus. Of all the things… of all the situations… that bus was supposed to be _safe_. I just. I’m sick of not feeling safe anymore,” Neville mumbled as Tas climbed up his arm and rested on his shoulder.

“Yeah,” I sighed again, “the real question is… when will it all break?”

“I’m not sure,” Neville agreed, “but it will. No question.”

“And when it does?” I asked.

“Then everything will break. The moment shit starts crumbling, the whole structure will collapse,” Neville paused, “The Death Eaters growing stronger… the Rebellion growing larger… the Backlash gaining power… each one of these signs is a crack in the great castle that is Wixen Britain. One of these cracks is eventually going to make the castle start to crumble and fall. When that happens, the whole thing will collapsed, and we’ll be left with… ruins. An apocalypse.”

“The end of our world,” I agreed softly.

“So maybe we’ll have a future. Maybe that future will have kids. I want it to,” Neville took a deep breath, “I want it more than… I want anything else, really.”

“But?” I asked quietly.

“But I’m not sure how confident I am that we’ll have a future at all. How can we survive a castle crumbling about our heads?” Neville asked seriously.

“We’ll run out of the crumbling castle,” I shrugged, “That’s what we’ve done for every other disaster.”

“Yeah,” Neville snorted, “too bad it’s kind of hard to leave society.”

“Then we’ll find a bunker, a basement, a stable part of the castle, hold each other tightly, and wait it out,” I looked at him, turning our heads so we could see each other’s faces. I pressed my nose into his and breathed deeply, “And we’ll have each other to the end.”

Neville kissed me passionately, making me lose my breath. I held his face tightly in my arms and kissed him back, desperately moving my lips against his as the raptors squeaked and moved away from us in distress. I pulled back and grabbed Saura, holding her in my hands and gently scritchling behind her small head. She peeped happily in response and ruffled her feathers a little, clearly having learned the behavior from her mum.

“Okay I’m not going to miss the raptors basically getting in the way of us… ah… enjoying each other,” Neville snorted. I giggled and kissed him again as Dakota nipped at Neville’s hand.

“Oi!” Neville shouted, “Come off it!”

Dakota cheeped happily and had the most innocent expression I had ever seen on a raptor on his face.

“How could you stay mad at that face?” I asked Neville seriously, giggling as he looked at me in disgruntlement.

“I can stay mad at lots of faces, thank you very much. I’ve been practicing for those children we want to have,” Neville snorted.

“Do tell,” I laughed.

“Well, you see, my love,” Neville teased, kissing me on the cheek softly, “You might be a hardened, furious, takes-no-prisoners, righteous ball of untamed fury badass –“

“Thank you,” I grinned.

“But inside you are a ridiculous softy who will let the people she cares about the most walk all over her,” Neville chuckled quietly, “And I know you’ll be so _amazed_ that we have children at all that you’ll give them everything they want.”

“Oi!” I protested.

“Tell me I’m wrong, then,” Neville beamed.

I glared at him angrily but I couldn’t come up with a single defense.

“So I, though I am softer on the outside, will have to be very firm and stern with our children when need be, because we can’t spoil them,” Neville continued.

“Okay but I have one thing to interject here,” I said calmly.

“Oh?” he asked.

“There is no way in hell,” I grinned, “You’ll be able to be a tough parent.”

“Oh come on –“

“Nev, all I have to do at you is pout and you’ll do what I want,” I giggled. Neville frowned at me angrily.

“This is not true –“

I pouted at him to prove my point and his face immediately softened, before twisting into a slight glare.

“Damn it, Mags,” he groaned. I grinned widely and kissed him softly on the nose, laughing quietly at his disgruntled expression.

“We should go back to the Hospital Wing,” I murmured, “After I send the letter. Don’t want Hermione to wake up without us there.”

“Good plan,” Neville agreed, “Let’s go.”

I sent off the letter in the Owlery; very few other students were actually there. We then ran back to the Hospital Wing, sitting by Hermione’s side. Many hours passed; Harry was sleeping softly next to us, his abnormally pale pallor from the past few months somewhat fading back into his usually tanned, pink, healthy glow.

“If only Hermione’s parents were around,” Neville sighed.

“Agreed,” I nodded, “I mean, I know it’s better for them to be safe, in the States, but –“

“I’m more anxious with them gone?” Hermione muttered groggily. I jumped in my chair, my eyes widening when I looked at her.

“I’ve been up for a few minutes,” Hermione sighed. “Look –“

“Hermione, take a deep breath,” Neville begged. Hermione looked at him in fury, but did so anyway.

“You are strung so tight you’re probably going to break,” I said firmly, “You need to find a balance.”

“I don’t have one,” Hermione muttered.

“Mione –“ Neville sighed.

“Don’t you guys get it? For you guys, you’re each other’s balance,” Hermione took a long, deep breath, “And for you guys – that’s great. You both keep each other functional.”

I looked over at Neville and frowned with him.

“But Harry and I – we can’t do that for each other. It doesn’t mean our love is weaker, I don’t think that at all – it just means – that the ways in which we’re screwed up – can’t only be fixed with each other. I mean, come on. Dean and Seamus are _literal_ soulmates – but Seamus still has to take potions for his anxiety, and Dean has the most intensive therapy schedule out of all of us,” Hermione sighed.

“So you need to go on potions,” I shrugged, “Big deal.”

“I don’t –“

“Medication isn’t bad, Hermione,” Neville smiled slightly, “Sometimes, it’s what we need.”

Hermione nodded, looking forward and sighing, “I’m just afraid.”

“Afraid of what?” I asked quietly.

“Afraid of myself,” Hermione stated simply, looking up at me and swallowing, “Mags, I’ve always been afraid of myself. Afraid of who I am, how I act, how I think, what I care about, what I _don’t_ care about – I –“

“We’re all afraid of ourselves,” I reassured, “Hermione, we’re all beings capable of things that wouldn’t even be considered normal or okay for the bulk of our species.”

Hermione laughed weakly.

“We’re terrifying beings,” I paused, “But you have to take care of yourself.”

“Yeah,” Hermione agreed quietly, “Yeah.” She stared out in front of herself for a while, not saying much, just staring.

“Guys?”

“Yeah, Mione?” Neville responded softly.

“You know how we talk about how Dumbledore is a chess player, and we are all the pieces?”

“Well, it’s accurate –“ I said hurriedly.

“I’m not arguing with that assessment. I… every good chess player, what do they do?” Hermione furthered.

“Er…think?” I asked.

“Well yes,” Hermione rolled her eyes, “Think _how_?”

“They think ahead?” Neville offered.

“Precisely,” Hermione took a deep breath.

“Okay, so…?” I asked.

“Dumbledore must have a plan for all of his chess pieces, it’s what a good chess player does,” Hermione spelled out. I looked at her, my teeth clenched in fury and fear.

“What is Dumbledore’s plan for us?” Hermione asked quietly.

“He might not have a _specific_ –“ Neville protested.

“He has a specific plan for us,” Hermione whispered, “We’re Harry’s best mates. His _family_. You don’t think – he’s been playing this chess game since before we were born.”

I ran both my hands through my hair anxiously.

“You don’t think – the _moment_ – he knew Harry was the chosen one – he hadn’t started planning? Knew that Maggie would be his sister, and though, what role should that sister play?” Hermione offered.

“Okay, but he didn’t know that we’d be close –“ I protested.

“Fine,” Hermione huffed, “How about when you came to Hogwarts and he knew you were, huh? Or when we two became close to you both?”

I looked at Hermione for a long time, my heart somewhat clenched.

“I want my life back,” Hermione whispered so softly I could barely hear her.

“I don’t think us staring a rebellion was in Dumbledore’s plan,” Neville offered meekly.

“No,” Hermione agreed, “No, he does seem to mostly be reluctantly tolerating it, more than anything.”

“I think what we have to keep in mind,” Neville continued, looking more confident, “Is that we may be his chess pieces. He may have a plan for us – and – and we may follow it. But we still have control over our lives. Over our health. Over our sanity.”

Hermione watched Neville silently. She looked so bruised and beaten, with large dark spots and cuts all over her face, that her stern expression seemed darker and more hopeless than usual.

“In the end, if it’s better for us to do something other than his plan, then we’ll do it. Plain and simple,” Neville insisted.

“Easier said than done,” Hermione countered.

“I think if the situation is important enough, we’ll be able to take care of ourselves, over Dumbledore’s wishes,” I said firmly.

Hermione looked at me questioningly, and I shrugged.

“I’m starting to wonder if Dumbledore is someone we should be rebelling against,” I muttered angrily.

“Mags…” Neville said, almost warningly.

“Just saying,” I shrugged, “That’s all.”

Hermione sighed again and stared out in front of her, “On the medication thing…”

“Yeah?” Neville asked.

“I’m worried Shae won’t be on board, because –“

“If you’re worried because you don’t see her enough and she probably wouldn’t feel comfortable putting you on a potion that she can’t monitor,” I interjected, “I came up with a plan with her for helping her to be here more.”

“What is your plan?” Hermione asked sternly.

“I’ll take her place,” I shrugged.

“MAGGIE –“

“I will, and you can’t stop me,” I said firmly.

“But –“

Hermione started twitching again, looking terrified, like before she had been put under. I reached out for her hands and held them tightly.

“But I –“

“ _You_ aren’t coming,” I reassured.

“I know, but –“

“But?”

“But you could get hurt and it would be my –“

“Could _all_ of you,” I said angrily, feeling my fists clench, “Just let me make my own decisions?”

Neville and Hermione grew silent, both looking at me sheepishly. I took a deep breath and sighed, looking at both of them, still angry.

“Look. I get it. You don’t want me to die. Believe it or not, _I don’t want to either_ ,” I said sternly, “I’m past that part of my life, okay? But Hermione needs Shae to talk to her. Shae needs to be at the front. If she’s not there because she’s helping Hermione, then there needs to be someone at the front to take her place, and I am the _obvious solution_. There’s no other argument to make about it, okay?”

Hermione looked distraught, but didn’t say anything. Neville looked at me almost stoically.

“Well I’m coming with you, and you can’t stop me on that,” he responded.

“No,” I agreed quietly, “No I cannot.”

“Guys,” Hermione whispered.

“Hermione,” I sighed, sitting next to her and holding her hand tightly, “It’s going to be okay, okay?”

She nodded, but she didn’t look convinced by my words.

The next day was the service for Hannah and Lavender. Having been buried elsewhere with their families, it was just the opportunity for the students to get together and pay their respects. Parvati and Siobhan were sobbing horrifically, and Susan was staring out rather stoically into space.

I hadn’t seen Ernie since we had gotten back.

“I don’t know where he is,” Sam stated dully, looking depressed, “He doesn’t… tell me things.”

“I’m sorry,” I offered sincerely.

“It’s fine. I started it. I made that the baseline of our relationship,” Sam grunted, “There are just very few people in the world I actually feel like I can open up to.”

“Ernie should be one of them,” I frowned.

“Yeah,” Sam agreed, “He should. Anyway, I have no idea where he is. He and Hannah were close.”

Susan had now been joined by Justin, the two of them staring off together, not saying much.

“The four of them were close,” I murmured.

“It’s like if Hermione had died,” Sam acknowledged, “I know.”

“We kind of stole Ernie from them,” I commented lightly.

“I think stuff happened last year,” Sam sighed, “Stuff we’ll never really fully understand, ourselves. Stuff that drove Ernie to be closer with Dean, and Seamus, and Nadia and Kat and Pete and Parvati.”

“Well, they’ll never fully understand what happened with us, I guess,” I admitted solemnly.

“Yeah,” Sam sighed, “I just…”

I looked at him as Dumbledore said things about Hannah and Lavender. Sam swallowed and sighed, wringing his wrists as he did so.

“I think this is a terrible omen. I don’t believe in all that divination crap, I’m not a lunatic. But two of our own – two people – who we were close to – died. Three people from our year have died this year. Already. I mean it’s almost March but – I… it’s only our sixth year. Voldemort’s only been _out_ for less than a year. He’s only been alive again – strong – whatever – for a little less than two. And three of our year have already died?”

I swallowed and nodded in agreement.

“We’re fucked,” Sam said simply.

“Probably,” I acknowledged.

“How are we supposed to get through – however much more we have of this?” Sam asked.

“We just… do, Sam. We just do,” I muttered.

The service was quiet, solemn, and subdued. I left with Sam and Neville, looking around worriedly for Ernie. As I did so, I spotted Tonks in the crowd.

“I’ll meet you guys inside,” I muttered quietly, before diving through the crowd and running up to the familiar mop of spiky pink hair.

“Tonks!” I greeted, running up to her. Lupin was with her, looking as solemn as ever.

“Hey Maggie,” Tonks frowned, “How are you doing?”

“Okay,” I admitted, swallowing somewhat, “Um – did Shae get my letter?”

Lupin groaned. Tonks glared at him before turning back to me.

“Yeah, she did,” Tonks admitted, “And she thinks it’s a good idea. She’s trying to persuade Dumbledore.”

“I don’t care what he thinks,” I snorted.

Tonks laughed loudly as Lupin actively glared at the both of us.

“Maggie, have I mentioned lately how much I like you?” Tonks managed to gasp out as she laughed.

“Dora –“ Lupin sighed.

“Oh shove off, Remus. Even you are getting fed up, you said so yourself,” Tonks snorted, “I personally don’t care what Dumbledore says either. Frankly I think you should come down there with us after this.”

“Okay,” I frowned, “Is Shae there now?”

“Nah,” Tonks shook her head, “She’s with Sirius and Dumbledore, arguing your case. But who cares?”

I grinned at Tonks eagerly as Lupin continued to shake his head.

“Look, I just don’t want her to get hurt because of our collective recklessness –“

“I understand that, Remus, I do,” Tonks rolled her eyes, “But Shae’s needed here. Come on, let’s go rescue her and Sirius.”

Lupin groaned, but I followed them both back towards the stage from the funeral. Dumbledore didn’t appear to be there, and Shae and Sirius were both glowering together.

“What’s wrong?” Tonks asked, raising her eyebrows at them.

“Dumbledore insists that none of the students should leave the castle for any reason, except for designated Hogsmeade weekends,” Shae grunted.

“After this, he doesn’t want to risk having parents come after him,” Sirius snorted.

“That’s not good for the rebellion,” I groaned.

“Are you really surprised, Maggie?” Shae asked seriously.

“No,” I admitted, “But that doesn’t mean I’m not disappointed. What does this mean for my proposition?”

“It means that, according to him, you’re stuck here too,” Shae snorted.

“Dumbledore does realize I’m a legal adult who doesn’t actually have parents, right?” I sighed.

“Well, _we_ realize that,” Sirius laughed, “So even if Dumbledore thinks otherwise, we think you should come help at the front anyway.”

“Neville, on the other hand…” Shae frowned.

“Look,” I sighed, “I understand, but he needs to be there. It was the only reason he would even consider being okay with me going. And I can’t blame him for that. It’s going to be dangerous, nervewracking, and terrifying – and he’s a strong fighter. You’ve seen his work.”

“We have,” Shae admitted.

“I’m all for him going. Not like he has real parents either,” Sirius snorted.

“Sirius –“ Lupin groaned.

“Am I wrong?” Sirius raised an eyebrow, “With how Augusta treated him?”

“There really isn’t any excuse for it,” Tonks agreed.

“No,” Lupin admitted, “No, there’s not. I just feel like it would be disrespectful to Alice and Frank –“

“Alice and Frank would have wanted him to do what’s right, I think,” Sirius grunted, “Kind of hard to know now. All of their closest friends are dead.”

“What do you mean?” I asked softly.

“Alice and Frank’s main group of friends were Lily and Melinda in school,” Sirius explained, “Melinda would flip between them and Gerald and Renee, who were from Slytherin and even though Melinda didn’t care, rivalry still ran deep. Gerald and Renee are still around but they were never close to Alice and Frank because of that; so Alice and Frank’s two best friends are now dead. They got close to Nathaniel, but that isn’t exactly a different situation, and they liked the four of us well enough – me, Remus, James, and that rat – but we were never particularly close.”

“Even without being close, I have to admit they’d be proud of Neville,” Lupin said.

“ _Ridiculously_ proud of Neville,” Sirius snorted, “And pissed off at Augusta.”

“Because of the abuse?” I asked seriously.

“That, and…” Lupin took a deep breath, “We wanted to tell Neville this, at some point.”

“What are you on about?” I glared slightly.

“Maggie, I understand your confusion, but really and truly, Neville is the one we should be telling this to, not you,” Tonks explained kindly.

“Well we have to find him anyway if we’re going to go,” I sighed. Shae nodded and we all headed up to the castle together, walking right past Dumbledore,, who was too engrossed in conversation with Slughorn to notice anyway.

We walked back up through the castle and I went to the Hospital Wing, since it seemed much more likely to me that Neville would have gone there to keep Hermione company rather than sit in our room alone. I knew I looked odd with the four adults following me for no apparent reason, but I was too focused on going than worrying much about that. We piled into the Hospital Wing, where Neville and Hermione were talking quietly.

“Hello Hermione – it’s good I found you here. I think we should get started, given what Madam Pomfrey relayed to me in a letter,” Shae greeted.

“Right – now?” Hermione asked quietly.

“No, not right now, but soon. I’m taking Maggie and Neville to the front this evening so they can see what it’s like, and what is happening. Then they can take my place while we have our sessions. But it is imperative that we start as soon as possible, yes,” Shae explained.

“But – “ Hermione mumbled.

“Hermione, I understand your hesitancy, but you went through a very traumatic experience. It is far more important that we work through your issues as soon as possible, especially given what can happen when you… don’t,” Shae looked at me and I grimaced.

“She’s right, Hermione,” I agreed reluctantly.

Hermione looked at me and sighed heavily, “Oh fine, yes, I suppose – you have – a point,” she swallowed heavily and clenched her jaw somewhat, “So… so what are you all doing here?”

“I wanted to tell Neville something, I’ve been meaning to tell him, and it came up in conversation with Maggie,” Lupin admitted, “I couldn’t seem to find the right time –“

“You were putting it off, Remus. You didn’t want to have this awkward and unfortunate conversation,” Sirius said, “And I understand, but you really shouldn’t put it off any longer.”

“What’s wrong?” Neville asked worriedly, standing up from his chair.

“Neville, sit down,” Tonks urged, “We have something important to tell you.”

“Did something happen? Is someone hurt? Did –“ Neville said rapidly.

“No, nothing new has happened. Your grandmother… kept things from you. While you grew up,” Lupin explained softly, “None of us were aware that she was doing this.”

“Of course not, I was isolated my whole childhood! I never met anyone – o-or – left the house!” Neville stammered out. I quickly went to him and held his hand tightly.

“Yeah,” Sirius sighed.

“Your grandmother kept you rather sheltered, even more so than she might have otherwise… because of Melinda and Nathaniel keeping Harry hidden away from the world. I suppose she valued their opinion on the situation. It wasn’t ideal,” Lupin admitted.

“So – what? She was more abusive than I already knew?” Neville snapped, “Or is this some bullshit she-had-reasons-for-how-she-acted type thing –“

“Well, she had reasons, but they were bullshit,” Sirius laughed coldly.

“We’re all on your side, Neville,” Tonks reassured.

“Okay,” Neville muttered reluctantly.

“Neville, the most important thing you have to understand here, is that we didn’t tell you this simply because we thought you already knew,” Lupin continued, “When we realized you didn’t, it was when the war was beginning to explode here at Hogwarts, and no time seemed like a good time.”

“Okay,” Neville sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“Your mum worked for the Ministry. Your dad too, but in a different department. But your mom was a so called emergency auror,” Tonks explained, “We have them now too, but basically at the time – well – many people at the Ministry are appointed aurors and given the most basic training, so the fighting force is bigger.”

“Your dad was an actual Auror. Your mum worked for the Ministry of Magic Citizenry Cataloguing and Demographics office,” Sirius continued, “She was brilliant at defensive magic, so they hired her as an emergency auror, and of course Dumbledore took her on for the Order. But mainly she worked in the portion of the office that logged new wixen who were born and their parentage, who had to have people come and explain what magic was when they turned eleven and who didn’t, that sort of thing.”

“She had… your mum had direct access to the trans lists,” Lupin sighed.

Neville’s eyes widened extensively and he looked at the four adults in shock.

“She knew you were nonbinary. She told your father about it, and they both immediately started referring to you with gender neutral words. They wanted you to be as comfortable and happy as possible,” Lupin continued, looking nervous, “They were even considering changing your name, given that Neville isn’t exactly gender neutral. They were reluctant only because you were named for your great grandfather, who your mum loved dearly and missed – killed by Voldemort and all that –“

“Your grandmother was highly against this and thought that, since you weren’t binary trans, the ‘gender question’ could just be ignored. She didn’t believe that nonbinary genders actually were a thing and thought that it was just the divination used to predict the gender identity of binary trans children fucking up and ‘affecting poor innocent children,’” Lupin sighed, “She and your parents had a huge row, very shortly before… they were attacked. Only about a month before.”

“Since your parents had to go into hiding anyway, they did so. She claims she was their secret keeper so that you won’t suspect anything had happened, but that is a lie,” Sirius swallowed, “Maggie’s mum was your secret keeper. For the month before they were incapacitated, your grandmother and your parents didn’t talk.”

“When they were attacked, Maggie’s mum lifted the secret, and despite all of our protests,” Lupin grimaced heavily, “All of our – very – _earnest_ – protests – Dumbledore put you with Augusta. Melinda even offered to take you in rather than have that happened.”

“Why – why didn’t you –“ Neville blubbered out.

“We couldn’t exactly steal you from her – she kept you hidden from everyone, including most of your relatives, as you remember,” Lupin paused, “And when it was time for you to go to Hogwarts, she told myself, and Melinda and Nathaniel, that we were not to tell you. If we had, she would have moved away with you to Australia.”

Neville stared at them in utter shock. I held him tightly in my arms.

“We didn’t think that that would be a good alternative, so we went along with it. When you came out, we only managed to get her to not be aggressively transphobic towards you,” Lupin continued, “She would have been much worse had we not intervened, but there was little we could do.”

“So it’s good I said goodbye, then,” Neville stated dully.

“I’d say so,” Sirius snorted.

“I… thank you. I wish… someone had told me this sooner,” Neville mumbled.

“I frankly wish I had, too,” Lupin paused, “None of us were stern enough with Augusta or Albus.”

“Was Dumbledore… on her side?” Neville asked.

“Not particularly, but he didn’t want to fight, either,” Lupin sighed, “He’s… very focused. On ‘what’s important.’”

“Which is bullshit,” Shae finally spoke again, “I say we introduce you both to the front, if you’re up for it, Neville –“

“Wouldn’t that be too much? After learning this?” Tonks hissed.

“No. Neville and I have been working together for a while now, and I know that he right now needs to process through his emotions while doing other things, otherwise he’ll stagnate. Am I wrong?” Shae asked. Neville shook his head and I wrapped my arms tightly around him.

“Hermione, are you going to be okay?” I asked her softly.

“Yeah,” Hermione mumbled, “Just… come back.”

“Will do,” I promised.

“They won’t be gone long,” Shae reassured, “I’m just going to show it to them and how it all works.”

Hermione nodded as we all left, Neville reaching down to hold my hand tightly. I looked at him in worry but he just shook his head somewhat, tears streaming a little down his eyes.

“Nev?” I whispered quietly as we left the castle with the four adults, walking through the snowy and cold Grounds off to Hogsmeade.

“I just… am wondering. What could have been,” Neville whispered back, staring at me desperately, “What my life would have been like.”

“You can never know that, Nev,” I murmured, “But you always have me, and what our life is now.”

“Yeah,” Neville murmured, “I just wish… I don’t know.”

“You wish you weren’t abused,” Sirius offered, “And I wish you hadn’t been. No one deserves it. But you can’t turn back time. You can only do good with what you have.”

Neville nodded, squeezing my hand tighter as we reached Hogsmeade. Shae grabbed my arm and Lupin grabbed Neville’s, all of us apparating away.

The North was cold.

There wasn’t much snow – after all, we were next to the ocean – but there was a lot of wind, a lot of cold rain and water from the ocean, and a lot of darkness. It may have been late, but even the setting sun wasn’t visible from behind the clouds. I shivered madly as the cold whipped at my bones, going through them and freezing every one of my cells. Neville wrapped his arms around me, shivering himself as the wind blew past us and promised to lift us and carry us away.

“Alright,” Shae shouted above the wind, “Right here we’re in the no-viewing zone. Given the International statue of secrecy, the Death Eaters might be nuts, but they aren’t suicidal. The battle is entirely happening on islands in the north that cannot be seen by muggles,” Shae paused, “Here we are at the most northern point of Scotland, close to them. We also can’t apparated to those islands, mostly because of what they are.”

“What are they?” I shouted over the loud, freezing wind.

“We’re in Out Stack,” Shae explained, “These northernmost islands of Scotland – which muggles are completely unaware of and cannot even see – are sort of… sanctuaries?”

“They’re hideouts for practitioners of old pagan ways of magic,” Tonks clarified, “Throughout the history of the British Isles, people from old Celtic traditions had different ways of practicing magic than the more Germanic and Roman based cultures –“

“So they’re just shunted off to the north?” I shouted in fury.

“Now’s not the time for that, but yes, Maggie,” Sirius sighed, “Their magic is a bit… different than ours so they’ve been living up here for centuries.”

“Only somewhat coercively, but they don’t have any representation in our government, so I suppose it’s still terrible,” Lupin admitted.

“Of course it is! This is like – the equivalent of – of – of Native American reservations!” I screamed.

“I mean –“ Sirius sighed.

“Whatever,” I grunted, “So what? The giants and dragons are tearing up their homes?”

“They have quite a few islands, and a lot of just completely barren territory. Most of the area is barren, and frankly, the people are more than capable of caring for themselves,” Shae snorted.

“They know a brand of elementalism that we could never hope to master,” Tonks laughed.

“So, okay, uh,” Neville spoke up, “How do we get there?”

“We apparate,” Shae paused, “But we wanted to show you where we were, and what to expect, before we… encountered the chaos.”

“Alright,” I sighed. Shae grabbed my arm again, and I felt the space close in tight around me – I hated apparating. We reappeared on one of these invisible islands, and it was even colder – given we had to be nearly at the Arctic circle, I wasn’t entirely surprised. I snapped my fingers to make fire appear in my hands, almost out of instinct.

“Quiet today,” Shae sighed, “Good.” I looked around at the islands – there were dozens of people and dragons all huddled around fires, with small makeshift huts. It looked like a refugee camp.

“We do alright,” Shae answered my unasked question, “We’re dragons. We can handle the cold better than most people.”

We followed Shae towards one of the camps. Jethro looked up and nodded at me grimly – he was covered in scars and even blood.

“Good for you to join us,” he greeted, and it almost seemed sincere.

“Wish you were joining us in full rather than replacing Shae, but still, thank you for helping,” Richard, who had so many scars I had barely recognized him, agreed.

“I tried to join in full but everyone seemed to think it would be a bad idea,” I admitted, sitting across the fire from them.

“Well to be fair,” Jethro paused, “We all have gotten close to death plenty of times.”

“And some of us have died,” Richard sighed, “People keep having to come in from the States.”

“Luckily, we’re kind of a militaristic country, so there are a lot of riders and halflings!” Jethro declared in a falsely cheery voice.

“Being sent to their deaths,” Richard nodded.

“You two kids try to at least make it seem like there’s _some_ hope,” Shae scolded.

“Eh, the new guys should know what they’re getting into,” Jethro snorted.

“So is this, what? A constant version of what was happening in Hogwarts?” Neville asked seriously.

Jethro looked at Neville and his face contorted into an amused expression, “Yeah, except not.”

Neville glared at him as Jethro brushed snow off of his shoulders.

“You got basically the entire giant population of Siberia, which, why, and, how – then you got these damn Druids –“ Jethro continued.

“Don’t call them that, that’s a slur,” Richard hissed.

“Whatever. These hut people, then, who know more about elementalism than I could have ever _pooped_ out in my whole lifetime, pissed that this is happening and not really fighting with either side but attacking us in guerilla ambushes –“

“Can you blame them? We’re blowing up their homes!” Richard insisted.

“I don’t _blame_ them but _we_ didn’t try to attack them, the bloody giants did!” Jethro snapped, “Anyway, you have all that, and then we’re a small but significant army of dragons, so –“

“A lot of fire and rain and wind and earth and just. It’s. A lot,” Richard admitted.

“Why is it quiet now, then?” I asked sternly.

“Because we all need a break. The giants have to be commanded by someone or else they’ll run a muck. Voldemort literally will come in and command them, and if it’s not him, then it’s one of the high level Death Eaters,” Jethro rolled his eyes.

“Like?” Neville asked. Jethro smirked at him again.

“You know, Bellatrix Lestrange, Narcissa Malfoy, Trevor Avery, Xavior Mulciber –“

“Thanks for that information,” Neville snapped, now annoyed with Jethro’s attitude. Jethro smirked even more and looked at Shae.

“Who brought the human along?”

“He insisted, and he can handle himself,” Shae hissed, “Grow up, Jethro.”

“Just wouldn’t want the only bloody Halfling in the UK to lose her service human,” Jethro chortled.

“Oi! What’s that supposed to mean?” I demanded.

“It means he’s your service human. You were crazy and on drugs but, much like a service dog, your service human keeps you in check,” Jethro snorted.

“Fuck you,” I snapped, spit flying out of my mouth as I did so. Neville gripped my arm tightly.

“Jethro, that was unnecessary and uncalled for. Maggie needs to help us, and you need to get along with her _and_ Neville,” Shae scolded.

“Sure boss, whatever you say,” Jethro muttered.

The wind blew roughly over our heads and I pulled up the hood from my jacket tighter around my face. I was freezing, but I was also okay with it. Something about it felt invigorating.

“One thing I will say,” Shae shouted over the increased wind, “Be careful with your elementalism.”

“What do you mean?” Neville asked.

“I mean you can lose control out here, unless your element is air – which, for you two, it’s not,” Shae explained, “Fire can go everywhere – or you can lose it. Water can be swept away. So just be careful – know that you have to work _with_ the weather, not against it.”

“I’ll remember,” I promised as the wind rushed around me.

“Well then,” Richard said glumly, looking at us, “Welcome to the Dragon Army.”

“Fell lucky you have somewhere to go when you’re not fighting,” Jethro grunted.

I looked out into the foggy distance, my eyes straining against the wind and weather to try and make out the giants. The dragons were all around me, clearly visible, clearly huddled against the cold.

“It’s for Hermione,” Neville muttered quietly next to me. I nodded in agreement, breathing in deeply as I stared out to the Arctic ahead.

“It’s for Hermione,” I agreed, and the statement strengthened my resolve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry about the brief pause. I've been having some writer's block (so I'm currently going through the story plan right now and editing it again) and I've also been fairly busy with real life stuff, but hopefully I'll update again soon! Please, PLEASE comment. I cannot stress enough how much I need them to keep writing. They feed the Inspiration Machine. Thank you! Also, the art above is supposed to symbolize the four things that society used to fuck up the four main characters - Maggie, her mental health; Harry, his physical health; Neville, his gender identity; and Hermione, her race (both magical muggle born status and Jewishness/Arabic-ness). It was drawn by my friend Cy, so let her and me know what you think!  
> Please comment! Thank you!


	128. Chapter One Hundred and Twenty Six: February 21 – March 1, 1997, Hogwarts & Northern Scotland

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Someone long gone  
> Said to stay calm  
> Keep your head on  
> If you need love 
> 
> Hide your cradle  
> And a headstone  
> In the watermark  
> When the sea comes 
> 
> Help me swallow up  
> All of your better nature  
> Please can you summon up  
> All of your better nature 
> 
> When your mind's off  
> In a tight knot  
> Can you feel caught  
> If you need love 
> 
> Help me swallow up  
> All of your better nature  
> Please can you summon up  
> All of your better nature 
> 
> Hold on  
> I think you're wrong 
> 
> Help me swallow up  
> All of your better nature  
> Please can you summon up  
> All of your better nature."  
> ~ Silversun Pickups, "Cradle (Better Nature)"

Chapter 126: February 21 – March 1, 1997, Hogwarts & Northern Scotland

“So let me get this straight,” Hermione frowned, looking at us angrily. “You both are going to be routinely going as north as you can possibly go on these bloody isles, to fight against _giants_ , even though it’s incredibly dangerous?”

“Yup,” Neville responded solemnly.

“Just so I can – what – get therapy?” Hermione shrieked.

“Exactly,” I nodded.

“This is completely mental –“

“Maybe,” Neville acknowledged, “But it’s the only plan we’ve got.”

“You can’t do this for me – I won’t let you –“

“Doesn’t matter,” I shrugged, “We’re going to anyway.”

“I have a bone to pick with one of our allies,” Neville grunted in annoyance.

“And I just don’t want to let them down. I already did that once a year and a half ago and I’m not in the mood to do it again,” I nodded firmly.

Hermione glared at us angrily, her hair sticking up every which way on the table. Her fingers were twitching again, and I wanted to reach out and grab them to help her hold them still. Instead she reached for a potion on the nightstand and took a swig.

“Is that your anxiety potion?” I asked softly.

“Yup,” Hermione muttered.

“Good,” Neville nodded.

Hermione sighed and stared out in front of her, “Yeah.”

“Remember,” I smiled slightly, “If your mind can’t produce the chemicals it needs to function in a way that you can handle, store bought chemicals are fine.”

Hermione cracked a wide smile, wider than I had seen on her face in ages.

“Thanks,” she sighed, “I just wish I could talk to my parents about this.”

“I know,” Neville nodded, “But you have us, and well, we’re your family, right?”

“Right,” Hermione nodded, looking moderately sad, “Yeah.”

Neville looked excessively tired, sitting down next to Hermione and looking out into space. I frowned, reaching out for his shoulder as Hermione watched him in concern.

“Are you okay?” I asked softly.

“Yeah,” he muttered, pursing his lips together tightly.

“How are you doing with the whole… your Gran was more abusive than you even realized… thing?” Hermione murmured.

“Terribly, but thank you for asking,” Neville grunted.

I reached out for him and held him tightly, pressing his face into his shoulder. He mumbled quietly against it, reaching out to grip my shoulders tightly in response.

“That’s fascinating that the trans list is a divination thing, though,” Hermione murmured thoughtfully, “I wonder if it’s ever made mistakes?”

“I mean,” I looked at her and sighed, “Probably on the side of assuming more people are cis than they’d like, right?”

“Probably,” Hermione mused, “Can’t be having the poor queers be true to themselves –“

“Can we stop talking about this?” Neville demanded softly. I looked up at him, frowning apologetically.

“I am _tired_ ,” Neville sighed softly, “I am tired and – and – I just – don’t want to think – about any of this – anymore. Not anymore.”

“Nev,” I mumbled.

“You guys _don’t get it_ ,’ Neville shook his head, “I love you both – in extremely different ways, obviously, but – you don’t get it. This is not about you both as people it’s about – how – how you’re both… you’re both cis. You don’t understand how _painful_ all of this is. How much it just… is too much, after a while. Like, I get it, world. You hate me. I’m sorry for fucking up so badly in terms of who I am. I’m sorry for that. I can’t really control it, so I’d appreciate being left alone. Who I am – how I identify – it doesn’t – it doesn’t _affect anyone_ other than me, now, does it? Not really. But my Gran, the Ministry, other… horrible people who remain in the past… they don’t see it that way. They see me being happy as impinging on _their_ lives. And I’m just… I’m just… tired. Nothing surprises me anymore. Nothing is unexpected anymore. Is the thing a bad thing, is someone trying to strip me of my comfort and identity? Then I expect it. So, yeah. Of course. Of course the bleeding Ministry sometimes let nonbinary people through the cracks because, eh, whatever, who cares about us, right? Of course! But it’s not wroth _talking_ about. It’s not worth _thinking_ about. Not anymore,” Neville squeezed his eyes very tightly, “I’m just. Done.”

Hermione and I watched him, silently, for a while. I didn’t know what to say.

“I’m sorry, Nev,” Hermione murmured after the silence had gone on an awkwardly long amount of time.

“Thanks,” Neville muttered, “Sorry for getting upset.”

“It’s understandable, love,” I mumbled quietly. Neville smiled weakly at me, and I leaned up and kissed him softly.

“So why do you have a bone to pick with one of our allies?” Hermione asked seriously, her desperate need to change the subject clear on her face.

“Oh bloody hell,” Neville groaned, “This Jethro chap –“

“He’s a dick, okay, I told you that when I told you about all of them,” I sighed.

“He bloody thinks that I’m completely useless out there! Because I’m not a Rider or a Halfling! Kept calling me ‘the Human’ as though I, not being a dragon type person, can not speak the English language,” Neville grunted, “Where does he get off being so condescending? I have done so much bloody crap –“

“You’re a badass, Nev,” I reassured.

“Well now I have to go and bloody prove myself to the damn stuck up dragons – no offense,” Neville grunted.

“None taken,” I shrugged, “I think I could take you in a fight, but you hold your own just fine.”

“Ha ha,” Neville stuck his tongue out at me in annoyance.

“Shouldn’t you be concerned though?” Hermione muttered quietly, “I mean… you don’t have some of these powers these people have, that can _not_ be denied…”

“No, but bloody hell, I can still take _care_ of myself,” Neville muttered, “I have fought way too many battles to be helpless.”

“Agreed,” I nodded.

“Well still,” Hermione took a deep breath, “Please be careful, both of you. I… would never forgive myself, if something happened to one of you.”

“We’ll be careful,” Neville reassured, “I promise.”

“Same,” I agreed.

“Alright,” Hermione sighed, her eyes drooping a little. Her fingers, however, were still twitching like mad by her sides.

“You should rest,” I suggested softly. Hermione nodded, allowing her eyes to close fully, before clearly falling asleep. In the next bed over, Harry remained peacefully asleep himself.

“Well,” I sighed, “Want to go to the rest of the castle?”

“I suppose,” Neville sighed, “I’m just rather tired, that’s all.”

“Same,” I agreed, “But we haven’t really talked to anyone for a couple of days and we really should.”

“Yeah, alright,” Neville nodded, taking my hand in his, “I think this war is probably getting too complicated.”

“There’s definitely a lot going on, but I expect that that’s just a virtue of war, or some such,” I said. Neville let out another sigh and wrapped his arm around my shoulder, the two of us walking together through the corridor.

Still, we were tired, and we didn’t end up seeing much of anyone that day. Which, in the end, would have been fine – a good break – if the next day Shae hadn’t come down.

“What is it?” I asked immediately upon seeing her in the Great Hall, “What’s wrong?”

“Hermione had another panic attack this morning when she woke up,” Shae sighed, “I came down as fast as I could.”

I looked over at Dumbledore, who wasn’t listening to our conversation, but still clearly in earshot. Neville was shuffling nervously, looking over at the Headmaster much too frequently.

“Is Lupin here?” I asked softly, hoping that she would understand my meaning behind that phrase.

“Yup,” Shae answered, “Waiting out in the village.”

“Thanks,” I nodded, grabbing Neville’s hand and dragging him out with me towards our room. We were silent as we packed things into rucksacks, bundling up rags and various warm clothing around ourselves. I pulled out two thick tarps we had modified into long skirts with pants underneath them, handing him his and looking at him solemnly.

“Don’t suppose there’s a limit to how warmly we can dress, huh?” he asked grimly.

“Probably not,” I frowned, “Grab your cloak too.”

“On top of the jumper and strange skirt tarp?” Neville raised his eyebrows.

“Yup. Everything.  Grab your gloves too,” I nodded. He did so as I finished packing our rucksacks with extra clothing. I then scratched behind Blue’s crest and Neville and I walked together out to the grounds, him looking stoic and determined. We walked together in silence, a stoic sort of silence, until we reached Hogsmeade. It didn’t talke long for us to find Lupin, who was looking at us with a tired expression.

“I’m assuming there’s no point in trying to get you to stay behind?” Lupin asked quietly as students moved past us and milled about in the courtyard.

“None at all,” I shrugged.

“Well, it was worth a shot, at any rate,” Lupin grunted in annoyance, “Come on then.”

We each grabbed a hold of one of his arms and he apparated away; the darkness crowded in on my body again and I felt like I was suffocating. It was never something that I particularly enjoyed, but just as I started to register the extreme discomfort, I was freezing on a small island.

“Alright,” Lupin sighed, “We’re on Out Stack. Time to apparated to the battle –“

“Is it particularly bad right now?” Neville asked.

“I don’t know,” Lupin answered honestly, “We’ll find out, I suspect.” He grabbed both of our arms roughly again and suddenly I was being wrenched away, the walls closing in on me for a brief period before we landed.

And then I was overwhelmed with more sensations at one time than I had ever known.

There was the freezing rain biting my face so fast that it was as though I were being pelted by a swarm of very cold gnats; there was the sound of roaring so loud that I might as well have been trapped in some sort of Jurassic Park homage; there was fire and flashing lights and too many colors and other images whirring across my field of vision; the smell of blood and mud in the air was so strong I could practically taste it.

“GET DOWN,” Lupin screamed, grabbing both of us and pulling us towards the ground. I hit the dirt hard, my face scraping against the rocks, my mouth filling up with dirt and mud. I spluttered in disgust as a dragon dove low over our bodies, the tail just missing my head as the animal flew over me and to whatever was behind me. I leapt up from the ground and whirled on my heels, slipping against the ground as I ran towards the dragon. The wind whipped through my sleeves and knocked my scarf from my face, allowing the cold wind to bite and nip at my skin. I grunted in pain and continued slipping forward, running against the muddy ground towards the the dragon.

“MAGGIE,” Neville screamed, but I ignored him; I just kept running as fast as I could, following the dragon and building up momentum, before finally transforming. I took off into the air and followed the larger creature, my wings flapping hard against the swift wind.

I wasn’t ready for it, though – it was too much and my body was not braced for it. A gust swept me off course and I tumbled through the air, not so much flying as I was falling violently and in a random trajectory. I roared in terror and folded my wings against my body, allowing it to shoot towards the ground and land roughly against the mud. At the very least, the membranes weren’t torn.

I transformed and stumbled to my feet, bruised all over as I limped towards the battlefield. There were two giants in my vision – only present because their feet were noticeable in the fog. Many dragons were attacking them, flying everywhere, blurs of color and fire and scales. I kept limping towards them, gritting my teeth against the pain and attempting to be more aware of the presence of the wind. It was, of course, all over the place; I had no idea how I would even attempt to take off into it.

“Don’t bother!”

I looked over to see Richard, fire around his hands that he was using to send towards the giants, his face gritted in pain.

“You’re too small of a dragon, there’s no way you’ll find your bearings in this wind!” Richard explained.

“Then why the fuck was I even called to this shitstorm?” I screamed in fury, the pain in my limbs overwhelming me somewhat.

“You’re good at elementalism and the wind isn’t _always_ this bad?” Richard offered. I grunted in annoyance and ran forward as best as I could, flinging fire forward in the direction of the wind. The wind caught it and spread it to the giants, catching their feet in giant balls of flame. The giants audibly shouted over the wind and I ran forward more, grunting with the effort as I drew up more fire, almost as though it was coming from deep within my stomach. The fire spread wildly, almost out of control, but the high level of rain snuffed a large portion of it out. I shouted in anger and pulled a knife from my belt, diving at the giant’s leg and stabbing it roughly. I could feel the sinews and muscle struggle against me as I tried to draw the knife down the leg, crying out from the effort as I managed to draw a deep, long cut as far as I could manage. I pulled the knife out and stumbled back to the ground, wiping it off in the muddy water and grass before standing up again.

The giant was now bleeding profusely, blood running from it’s leg and pooling onto the grass below. I rapidly moved out of the way and sent more fire towards the giant, looking around at the various fighters and trying to take note of their positions. Most were doing similar things as me, just a war of attrition, only the largest of them transforming into dragons. Even the species-dragons who were small kept low to the ground, hugging the earth as they blew fire onto the giant legs.

I turned around rapidly and ran to crouch behind a rock, panting slightly. Everything was suddenly very overwhelming, and I needed to stop and breathe, even for a few minutes. I held my head and hair tightly in my hands as crashes and explosions sounded around me, the noise deafening and terrifying even in the absence of other senses.

“Mags!”

I looked up to see Neville running towards me. A giant wave of fire came towards him and I screamed in terror, but he managed to shoot some of the rain falling down around us towards it. He ran to me and crashed into me, holding me tightly in his arms and up against him. I breathed with relief and held onto him, shaking in his arms as the battle raged on.

“How stupid are you?” Neville demanded angrily, pulling back and looking at me with a glare.

“Pretty dumb,” I agreed, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Neville sighed, “I suppose you had never tried to fly in this sort of wind before.”

“I’m doing okay, just a little overwhelmed,” I paused, “Are you holding up alright?”

“There’s water all around me, I’m doing surprisingly okay,” Neville paused, “And I’m a big person. You know, wind can’t sweep me off course as easily, that sort of thing.”

I laughed in appreciation, just as a gust of wind blew me back against him. Neville grunted in what could only have been annoyance.

“Case in point, your human form is useless. At any rate, the only person who would be totally at ease here is, unfortunately, kipped up in bed, so asleep he’s practically dead,” Neville sighed.

“Yeah,” I frowned, “You should get out there though. Dragons aren’t typically water elementalists.”

“Fire all the time, I assume?” Neville rolled his eyes.

“Fire or, more rarely, air, because flying,” I snorted, “But yeah.”

“Alright. Are you going to be okay? Do you need to go home?” Neville asked worriedly, looking over me and any potential injuries I may have had.

“No, I’m fine,” I insisted, though lord only knew that I probably wouldn’t be fine. I was already injured and we had barely been here an hour.

Neville frowned at me, but kissed me lovingly and stood up.

“I love you,” he shouted over the wind before running towards the chaos.

“I love you!” I screamed back, shivering in the cold and holding various extremities as close as I could. I gently used elementalism to turn my breathing into small puffs of flame – put out almost instantly without a constant energy source and in the rain, but still, warming me up as I sat there against the rocks.

Suddenly, I was dry. Or at least, not getting more wet. I looked up in shock and stumbled to my feet, looking out over the scene. Neville had raised his arms up, taught and extended at his sides, and his hands were balled into fists. All the rain droplets had stopped in midair, just floating, due to the power coming from his limbs. I felt my eyes widen as he then whirled his arms around in a clear circle, drawing back the water; some riders came up to block him from the giants, who were finally starting to pinpoint the source of the disturbance.

I ran forward to help in blocking him; the wind was still terrible but now that he was drawing up all the water at least there was something akin to visibility at hand. A giant ball of water was above his head, swirling in time with the rotation of his arms.

It still hurt to be standing up, but I forced myself through it, gathering up a great gust of fire and letting the wind take it away. It engulfed the second giant’s legs, causing him to cry out in pain. I did the action again, grunting against the pain and with the effort of keeping the fire in check until the wind started blowing in the right direction again; as the wind changed, I let the fire go. Now the giant was engulfed in a storm of flame, screaming so loud my ears actually popped. Neville next to me was transforming his water ball into ice, but not just a ball of ice – sharp, pointed icicles, more like daggers than anything, were forming where the ball once was. I watched in horror as hundreds of these sharp cylinders of frozen water lined up with each other, before Neville shot the daggers straight at the first giant. The giant roared in pain as they stabbed him, digging into his flesh and melting afterwards, allowing blood to poor from his wounds like rivers.

A large dragon then took the opportunity to run at the giant, flying through the air and dive bombing it. I turned back to my work with the other giant as the now returned rain was decidedly putting out the fire I had created earlier, but I could still see in my periphery the giant being knocked over the edge of the cliff, falling down to the sea below. The crash was deafening, and the wave of water brought up from it enormous.

Before it could crash onto the shore, effectively taking us all with it, Neville caught the wave in midair. His hands were raised up high as he visibly strained from the effort, but the wall of water remained so. He then lowered his hands so the water would return to the sea, releasing it once it was out of sight.

I ran forward towards the remaining giant, drawing up more fire by spinning my arms and legs around me, using one of the legs as support. The fire grew into a large, terrifying ball that I shot directly at the giant’s heart. Another dragon, a large one, bit at the giant’s charred leg, while a few other fire elementalists helped me in shooting balls of hot flame towards the giant’s head and chest. A final large dragon flew in from the giant’s head height, knocking into the small lump and pushing the giant back into the sea. The giant shouted in protest as it tumbled down to the rocks and water below, and Neville rapidly caught the wall of water before it even was above the cliff line.

I turned back to the rocks behind me and leaned on one of them, panting slightly from the effort of fighting. Richard ran over to me, holding my arm as Neville worked to lower the water wall.

“You doing alright?” he asked, frowning at me in worry.

“Yeah,” I frowned, “Just need to rest, that’s all.”

“Well we managed to hold them off,” Richard sighed, turning back and looking at the field, “Not without a few casualties of our own…”

Two dead, smaller dragons were being wrapped up by riders – probably blown off course by the wind itself. I frowned in sadness before limping off towards Neville, who had fallen to the ground, panting heavily.

“Nev?” I asked worriedly, “Are you alright?”

The wind and rain were still terrible, and in the absence of extreme amounts of fire elementalism, they stung harder. Neville looked up at me and nodded tiredly.

“All that just took a lot of my energy. I’ll be fine,” he reassured quietly.

“Maybe you need a way to fight that doesn’t involve that,” I suggested, kneeling in the mud next to him.

“Yeah,” Neville responded thoughtfully, “Maybe…”

“Well you two should head back to Hogwarts,” an older rider, pale in complexion and fairly androgynous, suggested. I had never met them before, so I frowned in suspicion at their order.

“We handle the clean up well enough,” the rider explained, “I’m Rean. Richard was my pupil back in the day.”

“Still am if we ever get to go back to America,” Richard paused, “At any rate, yeah, you two should go back home.”

“Another battle could start,” Neville grunted.

“Probably not. Most of our giant defeat strategy involves just making them go back to their people in the Nordic islands, not actually killing them. They’re going to be tending to their wounds and regrouping, the rest of them, I mean – for a while. Not a long while but, a while. And it’s important that you two do the same,” Rean explained.

“Alright,” I sighed.

“Thank you though,” Richard muttered as Rean walked away, “That was. Impressive.”

“Neville was, anyway,” I grunted, massaging my bruised up arm.

“You both were,” Richard looked over at Neville with a clearly newfound appreciation in his eyes, “You really can hold your own against giants and dragons, huh?”

“Been with Maggie for over a year,” Neville stated gruffly, “Would be kind of surprising if I couldn’t.”

“Fair point,” Richard acknowledged, “Now… how did you get here in the first place?”

“Lupin brought us, but I doubt he stayed to fight…” I frowned.

“He stayed back outside the battlefield,” Neville explained, “We have to go and walk to him.”

“Great,” I muttered sarcastically. Neville gently held me up as we walked back across the mud and blood, the rain still nipping at us as we walked. If anything, the wind started to pick up violently, sweeping around us and running through our bodies.

“Long, hot bath when we get home,” I suggested quietly.

“Agreed,” Neville nodded, kissing the top of my head. We limped across the grass together slowly and carefully, before finally reaching a small tent. I opened up the flap of it and poked my head inside, looking to see Lupin sitting in a much larger space, reading a book and frowning to himself.

“Hey,” Neville offered.

“Oh,” Lupin looked up, “Already?”

“We killed the two giants that were attacking,” I explained quietly, “They’re just regrouping and suggested we did the same.”

“Wow,” Lupin paused, “Shae figured you’d fight until you got tired after a few hours and then have to come home in the middle of it.”

“Well, that didn’t happen, thankfully,” Neville paused, “Can you take us back or not?”

“Yes, of course,” Lupin reassured, jumping up in his tent. He waved his wand and the structure was packed up around us, Neville and I left standing in the rain and the wind and the cold. Lupin then walked up to us and grabbed ahold of our arms, apparating away as the darkness closed in around me and pressed tightly against me.

We landed in Hogsmeade, and it was so dry and still compared to the islands that it was like I had landed on a different planet. I looked over at Neville, who appeared to be as dazed as I felt.

“Alright. You two go inside and get warm,” Lupin ordered quietly.

“Yeah,” I muttered, walking off without another word. I was still cold, only because the air was cold here too; Neville was following me closely, his teeth chattering somewhat.

“Next time I bring the sword,” he muttered darkly.

“Yeah, I think that would be helpful,” I agreed. I knew I would have to bring more in terms of weaponry as well.

“How are you feeling?” Neville asked as we walked up towards the castle, his face very pale from all the cold and wind and rain and pain.

“Oh everything hurts. I need a long, hot bath,” I sighed.

“Same,” Neville agreed, “I’ll hold you while we rest?”

I smiled at him and kissed his cheek, “Sounds perfect.”

Still, Hermione wasn’t entirely enthused at hearing the proceedings. We went to her and Harry’s room as soon as we could, sitting with her as she returned to it for the first time since she was in the Hospital Wing. It was a much smaller and simpler room than Neville’s and mine, with piles of books all around the space instead of discarded raptor feathers and unfortunate bird-like droppings that needed to be cleaned up. Hermione was nervously flitting around the room, moving from one corner to another and organizing her books and papers.

“So you… were what? Thrown about the air like some sort of paper doll?” she asked sharply, returning parchment to a shelf above her desk.

“Yeah, basically,” I admitted, grimacing slightly.

“And you – what? Tried to control the _weather_?” she screeched, turning around and staring furiously at Neville. Neville flushed from head to toe, shrugging sheepishly.

“I mean, he succeeded –“ I began.

“Oh shut up Maggie,” Hermione snapped, “It doesn’t matter if he _succeeded_. What matters is he tried to play – to play God –“

“Hermione, in case you haven’t noticed, magic is basically playing god: the lifestyle,” I raised my eyebrows in amusement.

“I – fine,” Hermione huffed, sitting on the edge of her bed angrily. I sat next to her, wrapping my arm around her shoulder and smiling comfortingly at her.

“How was therapy?” Neville asked seriously, standing in front of us with his arms crossed in front of his chest.

“Oh… fine,” Hermione sighed, “I’m not sure how much it’s helping.”

“Well that isn’t good,” I frowned, “We want it to be helping –“

“It is!” Hermione said hurriedly, “It is helpful – I’m sorry –“

“Don’t lie to us, Mione,” Neville insisted.

“No it’s helpful. It really is. There’s just too much going on. It would drive anyone crazy, right?” Hermione laughed weakly, “It’s just a lot. That’s all.”

I looked at Neville worriedly, and he matched my expression. Hermione got up and returned to organizing her room.

“Are you glad to be back in here and not in the Wing anymore?” I asked, hoping to distract her from whatever thing was filling her mind with worry and fear.

“I am,” Hermione paused, “I wish Harry was here, but I am. I need to return to school, and to work, and seeing friends would be good too.”

“Yeah, we reckon so,” Neville nodded.

“Has anyone seen Ernie? He’s been sort of… absent,” I frowned.

“No,” Hermione sighed, “Sam’s really worried about him. Can’t seem to find him anywhere. He hasn’t been attending classes, either.”

“That’s not good. It’s been a while since… well, since they passed,” Neville paused, “We should probably try and find him.”

“Yeah just… not right now, okay?” Hermione asked softly, “I’m too tired right now.”

“Of course,” I agreed, smiling at her weakly from her bed. Her smile back wasn’t exactly comforting.

She spent most of the rest of the time we were there flitting about the room and reorganizing it, as though doing so would somehow extend to other portions of her life.

“What do you think life would have been like if we had been regular teenagers?” I asked seriously, walking away from her room with Neville.

“Well, I reckon _some_ parts of this would have been the same,” Neville frowned, “In that vein – we should find Ernie.”

“Probably,” I grimaced, sighing heavily as we started searching the corridors.

Still, we found no sign of him, and before we could fully worry about it, it was time to fight again. I put back on my warm clothing, but wrapped it much tighter around myself; Neville did the same, but also grabbed the sword.

“Be careful with that, okay?” I said seriously.

“I always am,” Neville paused, “Please don’t go flying headlong into a heavy wind.”

“I’ll do my best,” I grimaced. We walked out to Hogsmeade, where Lupin was waiting and frowning at us seriously.

“Are you sure –“

“Yes,” Neville and I answered in unison, me glaring for added effect.

Lupin huffed in annoyance, before grabbing our arms and apparating us away.

We landed in what felt like a tornado.

The wind was everywhere, and there wasn’t much rain. But the wind was so hard and fast that I thought I might be carried away even as a human. I dug my heels into the muddy ground and braced myself against the wind, looking around to get my bearings as best as I could.

“I think the hags might be up to their tricks!” Lupin screamed above the wind, “You both should come back –“

“Shae has to work with Hermione,” Neville shook his head, his hair being blown about every which way by the wind.

“Besides, if the hags are active then they need us!” I shouted.

“I –“ Lupin said, but before I could let him insist I ran away, through the wind. I had no idea where I was going, but I knew I had to carve a path through it to get anywhere. Neville followed close behind me, basically grabbing onto my sleeve to do so, as we shoved through the swirling air particles.

“Where are we going?” Neville screamed.

“I don’t know!” I responded, “I’m just – going!”

I slid against the mud and ran forward, going as fast as I could. I didn’t have any idea where the fighting was, and I knew this was a bad idea, but I didn’t want Lupin to grab me and drag me back.

“Maggie!” Neville roared, “We have to figure out where to go!”

I turned around and frowned at him, before grabbing his hand. We took off together now, feet moving in unison, as we ran blindly through the wind.

“Neville!” I shouted.

“What?” he asked, looking at me worriedly.

“I’m going to transform – grab my tail!” I explained.

“Are you _completely mental?_ ” Neville demanded, gripping my hand tightly and refusing to let me do anything of the sort.

“No! Dragons have better senses, I think I’d be able to figure out where we’re needed better!” I insisted.

Neville looked skeptical, but he seemed to brace himself. I turned away from him, closed my eyes, and transformed.

The wind immediately tried to pick me up, but I could feel Neville grabbing my tail tightly. I was floating awkwardly in the air, but at the very least I wasn’t moving much. I dove back down to the ground and dug my claws into the ground, gritting my teeth tightly. Neville was clearly struggling, I could hear him grunting in the wind. I listened harder, bobbing and tilting my head every which way, breathing in deeply through my nostrils. I could smell many things – dragons and humans, in front of me. Giants as well. To my right, more humans.

I quickly transformed back before a gust of wind would take away me – and with me, Neville – in one fell swoop. I turned around and looked at him, the both of us panting tiredly.

“I think the hags are to our right!” I shouted.

“Where are the giants, though?” Neville demanded.

“In front of us, but think about it – if we take out the hags, this wind will –“

“We can’t take them out!” Neville insisted, “They’re too powerful!”

“Well I want to try!” I begged, “We’re _good_ at elementalism!”

Neville looked at me in terror before I grabbed his hand. I dragged him to the right, the two of us running as fast as we could through the wind.

I kept going in the direction of where that smell had been, my hair whipping behind me in the wind as I did so. Neville was having trouble keeping up, obviously getting tired faster than I was; I dragged him as much as I could as we went through the wind.

A violent gust of it suddenly came forward and knocked me off my feet. I screamed in shock and flipped over in the air before landing against the ground. Rain was starting, now, with the wind. Neville dug his heels into the ground and waved his hands, balling them into fists as he extended his arms out completely. The rain stopped, and he whirled his hands around each other in a spiral, balling up the water and releasing it onto the ground. The rain started again but he held it back, me running through the wind towards the hags.

Neville let the rain fall and followed me, his face streaked with water as we sprinted together. He slid forward in front of me, against the mud, before picking up the pace. I watched him in shock as he leapt forward, suddenly gathering all the water together again. I ran up to him to join him, watching him in confusion as the water was gathered into a large ball. He grunted with the effort and I looked around wildly for the hags – I had no idea why we had stopped.

“You say they’re in this general direction?” Neville demanded. I nodded. He had a huge ball of water in the air now, and he pushed it forward. It sped towards where the hags would be faster than I had ever seen Neville move water – faster than I had ever seen water be manipulated, period. The water washed over the ground in a large wall, before disappearing into the clouds and the wind. I could hear shouts and screaming in a language I didn’t understand, before the wind and rain suddenly stopped.

It wasn’t _sunny_ , by any means, but the clouds were at least calm. I looked up and at Neville in amazement, and he shrugged. He was hunched over and panting with the effort.

“We should see what happened –“ I insisted.

“I took out the problem!” he protested.

“I don’t think it would have been good to _kill_ them –“ I frowned, “Come on.” Neville groaned but ran along with me as we sprinted towards the former location of the hags, my legs starting to ache as I felt my feet kick up against my butt. The wind was gone, but I wasn’t confident in that; I kept running, rather than transform.

I looked up from my running, just to see a wall of fire coming towards me. I stopped in my tracks and held my arms crossed in front of my face, roaring with fear and anger as I pushed back the fire with my movement. Neville caught up to me and started swirling around his arms, pulling up water from the moisture in the air and the water in the grass. I kicked forward my own fire, sending a wall of flame back to them as Neville held water around his hands in defense.

I moved forward again, dodging fire attacks by jumping over and ducking under them. I gathered my own ball of flame before sending it forward in fury, screaming at the top of my lungs as I did so. Screams met my ears again, and we pressed on.

Finally, I could start to see sillouhettes in the dense fog. I stopped in my tracks, holding balls of fire near my hands, as Neville did the same but with water.

“WHO ARE YOU?” I screamed.

All I heard was shouting in a language I couldn’t understand, and the shouting sounded similar to the inflection one would use for curses.

“TELL ME!” I roared, “WE HAVE NOTHING AGAINST YOU OR YOUR PEOPLE.”

“YOU ARE OF THE ENGLISH –“

“NO!” I screamed, “I AM SCOTTISH, JUST LIKE YOU. I WOULD NOT HAVE –“

“YOU ARE NO TRUE SCOT!’

I screamed in fury and dove forward, running towards them to see them fully. There were five of them, women – or people who deliberately looked like them, anyway – of various ages. Two old ones, two young ones, one in between. They were covered in rags – much like Neville and I were – and were controlling multiple elements at once, swirls of wind and fire and water and earth moving around them as they stared at us.

“I AM ON YOUR SIDE,” I insisted, stopping the fire near my hands, “I NEVER WOULD HAVE SHOVED YOU HERE.”

“Lies! Trickery!” one of the old hags screamed, “You wish to take our lands again –“

“Do you even know what’s happening here?” I demanded.

“You English –“

“I AM NOT ENGLISH,” I screamed, “Will you _listen_ to me? WE HAVE THE SAME VOICES.”

One of the younger hags looked over at the other in confusion. I sighed and straightened up, grimacing in anger.

“No one is here to kick you off of your land,” I promised, “No one.”

“Then –“

“There is a man,” I frowned, “A man more evil than any other. He’s… trying to take over the isles. Completely take over. And he’s using giants to attack us all. These people and dragons are here to stop them from stomping through your lands towards the mainland.”

The hags all looked at each other in confusion.

“But why would his man use us –“

“Because the giants are from another place in the north, and this place is relatively uninhabited – at least, from his perspective. So people would be less likely to try and attack here. It’s become a battlefield on your back yard, and I’m sorry, I really am,” I explained.

“Fight them all off, then!” one hag demanded.

“We’re trying, but you’re kind of making it difficult!” I shrieked.

The middle aged hag looked sheepish. The oldest, defiant.

“It is not our job to cooperate –“

“You want us gone? Then we have to fight the giants off –“

“We owe your people _nothing!_ ” the oldest hag screeched, “You have sent us to the corners of our land and tried to make us die! We owe you nothing and we will not yield!”

I looked at her for a long time. I wasn’t entirely sure how I was supposed to respond to this statement, seeing as she was completely right.

“How’s this,” I sighed, looking over at Neville. He looked back at me in confusion as I took a deep breath, clenching my teeth tightly.

“What if I tried to help you reclaim some of your lands? We’re trying to change the government. We really are. And it’s completely wrong how you’ve been treated,” I said calmly, staring at the eldest hag steadily.

“You would help us reclaim our lands?” the hag asked, her eyes narrowing.

“Yes,” I said, not meeting Neville’s eyes.

“All of them?”

“I don’t… think that’s possible,” I frowned, “That’s… all of Scotland.”

“We just wish to live there, without having to follow your rules,” the hag smiled, much too sweetly.

“What rules?” Neville asked, speaking for the first time in a while.

“The statute of secrecy,” the hag explained calmly, “Our magic does not lend well to it.”

I looked over at Neville again, and his face said everything I needed to know: this wasn’t going to happen.

“I… don’t think that can happen,” I sighed.

“Then we can’t help you,” the hag smiled ever sweetly still, “Be gone.”

I sighed heavily and walked away, running my hands anxiously through my hair. Neville looked at me in irritation.

“You should have tried to find something that was _actually possible_ , Mags!” he shouted.

“Look, they’ve been shunted to some of the harshest places in the entirety of this stupid country and they weren’t given much of a choice. You don’t think that that would _resonate_ with me?” I snapped before I could stop myself. Neville’s eyes widened for a moment, looking at me in shock as the wind whirled about our heads.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, “I… It didn’t occur to me.”

I tried my hardest to not say something mean back; because of _course_ it didn’t occur to him. I swallowed painfully and gritted my teeth.

“Look,” I sighed, “I can’t do much, really, in any way whatsoever, for... my people. Back home. But I _can_ at least _attempt_ to do something here, for these people. Because they’re right. This isn’t okay,” I closed my eyes tightly, “I just… don’t know what else to say.”

“No, you’re right,” Neville shook his head, “You’re absolutely right.”

I was starting to get that feeling again – that strange uncomfortable feeling I got in the pit of my stomach when I thought about my heritage and the fact that I knew nothing about it. This feeling got more and more uncomfortable the older I got, and after Dad died, it had erupted into something I couldn’t actively deal with.

“I’m – sorry –“ I gasped out, sitting on the ground and holding my head in my hands. The wind was starting up again – they had barely given us time to even walk away.

“Mags, why are you sorry?” Neville asked, rushing over to me and holding me by my shoulders. I shrugged, swallowing again and attempting to stand up, but he kept me sitting.

“Because,” I swallowed, looking at him and gritting my teeth, “Because I don’t know what to do.”

“That is not something to be sorry about,” Neville shook his head madly, “It’s really not.

I nodded, taking a deep breath and standing up with his help. We then ran together towards the fighting, our hands locked in a tight grip so as to not lose each other in the strong wind. My mind was still whirring and I was having trouble concentrating on much of anything; just entering the battle was enough to significantly overwhelm me.

“Mags?” Neville shouted over the roars of dragons and shouts of giants. I nodded, squeezing his hand tightly and pulling out my wand.

“Let’s go,” I stated calmly, before charging forward. I waved my wand in front of me and pulled up a shield charm, which managed to block at least some of the ridiculous amounts of wind. A Death Eater ran at me – one of the first I had seen during these fights – and I shot a stunner at them before they knew I had seen them. I whirled around on my heels and pocketed my wand, whirling my arms to pull up a large gust of fire behind me. I balled up the fire and shot it at a giant, grunting as I did so; it flew through the air and engulfed the large humanoid, causing him to scream at the top of his lungs. It was a loud sound, one that shook the air around us and made my ears pop.

I ran forward as fast as I could, pulling two of my knives from my belt. I leapt in the air and dove at the leg of one of the giants, digging the knives deep into the giant’s leg and falling down, dragging the knives with me. The giant screamed and my ears popped again, me grunting in pain as I fell down to the ground and pulled the knives with me. I dropped them in the muddy grass and weakly put my hand up to my ear – it was bleeding, or at least, something wet was coming from it that wasn’t the water pouring from the sky around me.

I looked around and saw Jethro, fire around his hands as he shot it at the giants, and I could clearly see blood coming from his ears too. He was grimacing in pain, so I ran forward to help him. He started shouting at me but I ignored him, gathering my own fire and shooting balls of it in short succession at the fresh wounds on the giant’s leg. The giant screamed again and my ears were ringing now; I fell to the ground for a brief moment in pain. When the giant’s screaming stopped, I started to stumble to my feet weakly, as a hand appeared in front of my face.

“Come on.”

I looked up to see Jethro, not really looking at me but over my head. I grabbed his hand and stood up, grunting with the effort as I looked around at the wind and rain.

“We’re all weakened!” someone shouted over the wind, “We should retreat!”

“Yes, now! Everyone fall back!” another voice agreed. I ran backwards across the grass and mud, leaving behind Jethro and sprinting as fast as I could. The group turned and followed the coast, going away from the giants but also from the hags. I looked around wildly for Neville, but wasn’t really able to stop as dragons were setting the pace.

Eventually we reached the other end of the island, as far away from those who wished us harm as possible, running into the camps. Lupin was waiting there, and he stood up when he saw me, but I was too tired to leave just yet. I collapsed outside one of the tents, panting with exhaustion.

I looked up to see Neville running towards me, relief filling me as he did so. He fell down next to me and held me tightly against him, his face buried in my shoulder. I held him back just as tightly before letting go, looking around at the other fighters. They all had bloody ears and muddy bodies, exhausted and downtrodden from having to retreat.

“So apparently we’re getting reinforcements,” Kylie shouted over the horrifying wind, as icy cold water essentially smashed into my cheeks. I gritted my teeth as hard as I could in response, squinting at her through the downpour.

“Reinforcements? You’re kidding,” Jethro responded, looking out over the isle’s edge with binoculars.

“Yeah,” Kylie frowned, “They volunteered. I don’t know who they are, just that they’re helping us.”

“Then we should be able to really push back the bastards,” Neville said cheerfully, trying to manipulate the water out of our vicinity and essentially failing.

“I would agree except they evidently have reinforcements too, which is why we’re getting some,” Kylie sighed.

“How could they have _possibly_ found more giants?” I screeched in horror.

“Nothing would surprise me at this point,” Kylie grunted, “Since apparently the giants weren’t extinct before they’re going to be now. We better prepare.”

“When should these new groups get here?” I asked gruffly.

“Not long. Maybe a day or two,” Kylie sighed, “Until then, we hold the fort.”

“Until then, these two go back to Hogwarts,” Lupin said sternly.

“Just give me a moment,” I grunted, “I’m exhausted.”

“I would, but it’s dangerous out here, and you need to be healed –“

“So do all the rest of them,” Neville muttered in annoyance.

“It’s alright,” Kylie rolled her eyes, “We’ve been dealing with low access to medical care for a while now.”

“Do the giants do that supersonic scream often?” Neville asked, frowning.

“No, this is the first time,” Kylie pressed her lips together in a thin line.

“They might have just figured out they could do that, or it could be an accident, or maybe a Death Eater trained them –“ Jethro groaned.

“We’ll have to figure out a defense, it really knocked us out,” Kylie nodded.

“Well that’s great,” I sighed, pressing a wet cloth handed to me by a rider up to my ear.

“I’m sure there are spells we can use to protect the ear drums,” Jethro shrugged.

“I’ll look into it,” Richard offered, walking up to us with a pile of bloody rags.

“I’ll ask Madam Pomfrey back at Hogwarts, but we need to go, now,” Lupin said sternly, “The longer we are outside of the castle the more likely Dumbledore will discover you’re gone.”

“Fine,” I grunted in annoyance, standing up and pulling Neville with me. We grabbed onto Lupin’s arms and apparated away, landing in the dry cold of Hogsmeade. Once again, it was jarring.

I looked over at Neville who was grimacing in pain, grabbing his hand and helping him walk back up to the castle. He was frowning heavily, carrying his bloody sword at his side.

“I wish there was a clear answer with the hags, Mags, I really do,” Neville sighed.

“I know,” I agreed softly, “Frankly I don’t even know how to think right now.” My mind was a whirlwind of confusion and desperation; I couldn’t even really talk anymore as Neville lead me to the Hospital Wing. All I could do was sit and stare as Pomfrey tottered about and fixed up my ears, my thoughts slowly coalescing into some sort of cohesive decision.

This decision made my stomach churn, but I knew it was the right one.

“I’m going to go talk to Hermione,” I said firmly, looking over at Neville as he got his ears fixed up as well.

“Should I come?” Neville asked, frowning.

“No,” I shook my head, “I want to talk to her alone. I’ll tell you about it later though.”

“Alright,” Neville sighed, looking concerned as I got up and walked away, determinedly moving through the corridors off to Hermione and Harry’s room.

“What’s up?” Hermione asked, opening her door and looking exhausted. I swallowed heavily and frowned at her, gritting my teeth in pain.

“I’m going to propose an idea to you that’s going to sound completely and utterly nuts, but I need you to hear me out,” I said.

“Oh Merlin,” Hermione groaned.

“I think we need to give control of Scotland – at least, some of Scotland – at least, majority control – or _something_ – to the Hags,” I stated simply.

Hermione blinked once and shook her head, “Why did I see this coming.”

“Am I _wrong?_ ”

“In a moral sense? No. In a practical sense?”

“Are you seriously going to tell _me_ to not give land back to people who were forced onto crappy low quality reservations?”

“I mean, I –“

“Hermione, I’m not going to drop this,” I said firmly, “They were pushed onto these really shitty islands and forced to live there for centuries –“

“Because their magic is practically uncontrollable!”

“Because Anglo-Saxon wixen were prejudiced fuckers who _assumed_ their magic was incompatible with the Statue of Secrecy and also just wanted to take control of the land from the Picts –“

“Plenty of Pictish Wixen stayed around!”

“Yeah because they were willing to conform, not because they were _happy_ about it –“

“Their magic _is_ incompatible though! They frequently manipulate weather on large scales, move around geological structures, and many of their rituals involve –“

“Well we can’t pretend that the Secrecy Statute has exactly been in favor with us, either!” I grunted. Hermione groaned, holding her face in her hands.

“Not you too –“

“I thought you supported Harry on that!”

“Cautiously!” Hermione insisted, “It’s a delicate proposal – one that will have a lot of negative consequences as well as positive –“

“Well then if it goes through there’s no reason to not give the land back –“

“There are plenty of reasons – people live there –“

“They wouldn’t be _removed_ , they would just have to let the Hags have at least _some_ governmental control, and –“

“What if the Hags want them to leave entirely?”

“I don’t think they do – they just want the Statute gone –“

“This is impossible, Maggie.”

“Well I’m going to keep fighting for it anyway,” I snapped.

“Of course you are,” Hermione groaned, “Fine.”

“You didn’t see them,” I shook my head, “You didn’t see how they were living.”

“No,” she agreed, “But it’s more complicated than that.”

“I know,” I muttered, “But I can’t see it except in this way.”

Hermione sighed again and nodded, retreating back into her room. I frowned and watched her go, walking back through the corridors to go and relax, maybe, at least for a little while.

Two days later, Shae came back to counsel Hermione, Neville had his sword again, and we went to Hogsmeade, expecting Lupin to be there to take us away – but he wasn’t.

“Well this is bullocks,” I muttered in annoyance.

“Wish _we_ could apparate,” Neville agreed.

“Well we can’t,” I grunted, “Where the hell is Lupin?”

“Probably doing some noble thing about how we’re too young for this or some such,” Neville shook his head in annoyance.

“Well fuck it,” I grunted, pulling out my wand. I muttered _Expecto Patronum_ under my breath and a large dragon flew out from the end of my wand, looking at me expectantly.

“Um,” I paused, “I haven’t done this before – but – can you find Professor Black and tell him to come down here? Sirius, I mean.”

The dragon nodded and flew away, me looking over at Neville with an eye roll.

“If Lupin won’t do it, Sirius certainly will,” I sighed.

“A true point,” Neville agreed.

We sat on a bench silently, staring out in front of us as people milled about. Some gave us funny looks for being as bundled up as we were, or for Neville having a sword, or just because they recognized us – but most left us alone.

“Alright, what did Remus do now?” Sirius asked, walking up to us and clearly out of breath.

“Apparently try to stop us from going to fight by just not showing up,” Neville rolled his eyes.

“He would do that,” Sirius groaned, “I’ll talk to him later.”

“Well we’d just like to get to the fight now, they’re getting reinforcements but so is the other side so who knows how many –“

‘Yes yes,” Sirius nodded, “Grab onto my arms.” The crushing black pressed all around us, and my ears were especially uncomfortable after the last fight, but soon enough we were there. The wind and rain weren’t as bad today, for some reason – I could even see a fairly reasonable distance in front of me.

“Alright,” Sirius paused, “I can’t really stay here to bring you back –“

“I’m sure at least some of the fighters are able to apparate,” I offered, “We’ll be fine.”

“Alright,” Sirius frowned, “But if you want to get away just send a patronus –“

“Will do,” Neville reassured. Sirius nodded and apparated away again, me turning to Neville and grabbing his hand.

“Ready for more violent fun?” I asked cheerfully. Neville rolled his eyes and kissed the top of my head in recognition, pulling me along towards the sound of roaring and screaming and fighting.

At this point, it was routine.

We ran up to where there were the normal numbers of dragons and giants fighting – no one new appeared to have been added. I ran up to Kylie, with her bright red hair that was so distinctive against the greys and browns and greens of the landscape.

“What’s happening?” I asked.

“They should be here any second!” she reassured, “Look!”

I turned and looked over the wild ocean – a small group of dragons was flying over the sea, but the kind you’d expect to come from east Asia – long and snakelike, with weirdly small wings and tendrils protruding from their faces. I looked over at Kylie curiously, who was waving them down towards us.

“This will be good,” she nodded, “Really good – Hello!”

One of the dragons transformed into a man, walking towards us. He was Chinese in appearance, smiling at us as he approached.

“Are you Kylie?” he asked, holding out his hand to shake. Kylie did so gladly, smiling back at him.

“Yes – and you are –“

“Liu Wei,” he explained, “We were sent to assist in you effort here –“

“I thought Hiroto from the Japanese Dragon Association was supposed to lead the delegation?” Kylie asked in confusion.

“He’s been detained,” Liu Wei explained, “I came instead. You’ll find there’s a nice variety of us here –“

“And what organization are you from?” Kylie asked sternly.

“Oh many!” Liu Wei laughed, “The JDA, the Chinese Dragon Coalition, the Korean Riders League, the Vietnam Draconians, the –“

“Okay,” Kylie paused, “We were only expecting a small delegation from Japan and Korea, no offense meant, sir –“

“None taken,” Liu Wei offered, “We simply wished to join in the cause.”

“Well we… uh… we appreciate the help,” Kylie finished with a smile, “Come, we will show you the battlegrounds –“

I followed behind them, looking around at the variety of riders and Halflings accompanying us. There were many of them, and most were talking amongst themselves, though I only heard snippets that were in Mandarin.

“Mags, I’m uneasy,” Neville muttered quietly.

“Why?” I asked softly in return as we approached the giants and many of our number began fighting.

“Mostly because Kylie was expecting one thing and another showed up instead?” Neville asked, “I don’t like this…”

“Well let’s see what happens,” I sighed, walking forward to aid in fighting. Neville stuck close by me, the two of us attacking a giant together, me with fire and spells and him with his sword.

“How are we protecting against sonic screams?” I asked Jethro who was near us, the both of us shooting fire balls at the huge giants.

“We aren’t,” Jethro admitted, “We haven’t had the time to figure out a defensive strategy –“

“Well fuck,” I groaned, surrounding a Death Eater with fire that he quickly blocked. I continued to fight the Death Eater, the two of us shooting elements and spells at each other, grunting and shouting as we fought. Eventually I managed to get a stunner in, sending the Death Eater to the ground. I whirled around on my heels and saw one of the new volunteers fighting near me, so I joined her. We fought the giant together, our spells and flames hitting them and scorching one leg to a crisp. The giant screamed loudly, and I quickly covered my ears; the woman next to me didn’t know to do that, and blood began pouring from her ears. She screamed in terror and I ran to help her, putting cloth from my pocket over her ears.

“So who are you?” she asked, smiling at me in thanks as I dabbed at her ears.

“Uh – Maggie – what’s your name?”

“Does it matter?” the woman smiled widely, and I watched her in confusion.

“What do you –“ I began, but she had her wand up, pointing at me. I didn’t have enough time to get out my own wand; I just stared at her in shock and terror.

“NO”

I looked in surprise as Neville ran up behind her, his sword out in front of him. He stabbed her roughly just underneath her heart, forcing her to arch against the sword as she screamed loudly. Soon enough, though, blood started to gargle from her mouth, gushing out everywhere as I fell backwards.

“NEVILLE WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING,” I screamed before I could stop myself, the woman collapsing to the ground.

“Saving your life!” Neville responded, looking as horrified as I felt, “What –“

“THEY’RE SPIES,” someone I didn’t recognized screamed over the chaos breaking out as people started to realize that the aid was not to be trusted. I looked up to see a Japanese man running towards me, out of breath, with a dragon following close behind him.

“They’re spies – they’re with Voldemort – China signed a contract –“

“How can I trust _you_ , then?” I shouted, holding up my wand.

“I am Hiroto,” the man panted, “I’m from the Japanese Dragon Association – I am an ally of Albus Dumbledore –“

“Hiroto!” I looked over to see Kylie running towards us, looking frazzled, “Hiroto, when we first met, what were the plants on the mantelpiece?”

“Rhododendron – you were allergic –“

“Alright it’s him,” Kylie sighed, “What the fuck is happening?”

“The Chinese government wants to have a complete separation of magical and muggle societies – they want to sequester or even kill muggle born children – they see Voldemort as a powerful ally – and they kind of bullied the Vietnamese into joining their side –“

“What the hell –“

“Our country and Korea have declared war on them –“

“Wait, both Koreas?”

“The magical government reunited five years ago, you should know that,” Hiroto glared at Kylie, “Come on, Kylie –“

“Well – yes – but – sorry, I figured people in the north would object to that simply because of the muggle relations –“

“Certain things aren’t to be trifled with – at any rate –“

“How the fuck did this happen? How did they get here before you?” Kylie screamed.

“I don’t know, but why did you trust them?” Hiroto snapped.

“Because it is inconceivable to me that any self respecting dragon would side with Voldemort after what he did in the first war? I don’t know!” Kylie threw her hands up in the air in shock. Neville, meanwhile, was pulling his sword out of the woman next to us, wiping it off in the grass and looking shell-shocked.

“What were you expecting, more giants?” Hiroto shouted.

“Yes! Yes I was!” Kylie sighed. I looked around as groups of dragons started fighting each other; the differences between the sides were, luckily, fairly clear – except for those Americans of Chinese and Vietnamese descent, who often had dragon forms similar to those attacking us. I grimaced in fear and realized this would be much more difficult now. Luckily, the wind was low – I knew I had to get up there.

“I can’t believe you were this careless!” Hiroto scolded.

“It was a fairly easy mistake to make! Leave her alone,” I snapped. Hiroto sighed, running his hands through his short black hair.

“Okay,” Kylie whispered as we stared at the cloud of dragons, fighting in midair, some with us, some with the giants.

“Okay?” I asked, my body poised and ready to take off into the air. I had to fight.

“ _That_ surprised me,” Kylie muttered.

I looked over at Neville, and he at me, and that said more than we possibly could with words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Okay not going to lie, I've been having a rough couple of months writing-wise. This chapter was very difficult to compose because it was almost entirely fighting. I also have been feeling a complete lack of inspiration. I keep losing regular readers and that is really, really heartbreaking for me, to the point of being unable to write. I just haven't had the urge or the support to keep going.
> 
> I also have had a bunch of doubts about the story itself - things I chose to do that I can't really undo now. I still believe in the general core message, but some of my choices have been things that are iffy - such as portraying a sixteen and a seventeen year old having sex. Are they above the age of consent in their country? Yes. Are they of similar age? Yes. Are they consenting, practically-adults in a long term committed relationship? Yes! Are there other things out there that depict sex between late-age teenagers? Yes! Have their life experiences turned them into adults much more mature than say some 24 years olds in America right now? Yes! And these are the justifications I'm trying to convince myself with. Not that teenagers don't have sex - but I chose an M rating and chose to describe it - mostly because of the wiggle room it would give me to show how their relationship progresses, and also the ending of this story itself; it makes sense to describe it in the context of that. But that doesn't change the fact that I did start to feel uncomfortable with the fact I had chosen to depict it. Again, logically I think it's justified, but there's that gut feeling that won't go away.
> 
> I also am white, and when I chose to make Maggie a POC, it was for multiple reasons - I wanted to increase representation for POC, I wanted to have the main character in my story be a person of color, I was frustrated with the lack of POC representation in the original Harry Potter story (and that has only increased; Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find them was a fun movie but my god was it too white), I wanted to break stereotypes, and I wanted to give her a voice. But it has become clear to me that it is very difficult to write about POC issues as a white person, and it's almost impossible to avoid. I'm doing my best, and I have a friend who is of the same general racial category as Maggie, so I've been consulting with her, but that was another thing I struggled with.
> 
> I also have been busy: I recently presented a poster about science education at a major conference and I had to work on that. I also was devastated by the results of the American Presidential Election; I'm still devastated, and I've increased my IRL political activism as a result.
> 
> In addition I fucking left my notebook with my entire story plan on a city bus and now I have to completely rewrite that (which might actually be good for inspiration but I do have to do it).
> 
> And school is just busy in general.
> 
> I want to say I'll never abandon this story - and I'm 99% sure I won't ever abandon it. But it's been rough going since the last chapter. My partner has had to try and pep talk me multiple times (he's a major fan of the story and sometimes I'm convinced he's the only fan). I'm hoping rewriting my plan and having less on my plate with other things will help. It's been rough. Please, please comment if you can. They really do help.
> 
> Also the art is thanks to my friend Maya - I love it so much!!! 
> 
> Thanks,
> 
> Meig


	129. Chapter One Hundred and Twenty Seven: March 2 - 7, 1997, Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I've been sleeping in a stable, mate   
> Not gonna do you no favors   
> What I got is seen you trying   
> Or take it down the old lanes around   
> Fuckified   
> Darling don't make love, fight it   
> Love, don't fight it   
> Love, don't fight it   
> Love...   
> Well I'll wrap you up   
> And I take it by the touch   
> Darling don't a failure fright   
> Times the raker   
> And I'll rack it up   
> I'm unorphaned in our northern lights   
> Dedicoding every daemon   
> Taken in the tall grass of the mountain cable   
> And I cannot seem to find I'm able"   
> ~ Bon Iver, 10 d E A T h b R E a s T ⚄ ⚄

Chapter 127: March 2 – 7, 1997, Hogwarts

“Where the fuck have you been?”

Neville didn’t swear quite as much as the rest of us, which meant that I was naturally drawn to look up at the usage of such a word. Walking towards us at the Gryffindor table was Ernie, looking a little worse for wear, but at least he was _there_.

“Ernie! What the hell?” I shouted, agreeing with Neville’s general confusion.

“I’ve been… secluded,” Ernie answered cryptically.

“Oh bloody hell,” Neville groaned.

“Mate, you can’t just take off for weeks without at least telling us you’re okay, not after one of your best mates died, seriously,” I said, looking at him sternly. I hoped my expression conveyed the message of _I know you could be killing yourself_ accurately. Ernie grimaced guiltily at me.

“Yeah, I know. Sorry,” Ernie sighed, sitting down at the table, “I’ve… been at my parents’.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” I asked softly, looking at him in concern. Ernie frowned for a long time.

“I just needed time to myself,” he finally stated, “I… Hannah’s been one of my best mates since first year. It was me, Susan, and Justin. And even though I’ve drifted apart from them in some ways, we’re all still close – we’re family. I just… needed to be alone.”

“Makes sense, mate,” Neville nodded.

“I feel guilty, see,” Ernie sighed, “By becoming closer to you lot I have distanced from my old mates. Hannah and I hadn’t talked for nearly a week, not because we were angry with each other, but because I’d been too busy. And now she’s gone. I’m not sure how to deal with that.”

“Ern, if you want, we can hang out less,” I offered.

“I do appreciate the thought but it’s alright – it’s not on you guys that I have neglected my friends,” Ernie let out yet another sigh, “I was bad at the end of last year, too. Dean, Nadia, Kat, Pete, Seamus and I formed a pack. Susan and Hannah helped out, sometimes, but it was mostly me, Dean, and Nadia.”

“Friendships change all the time,” Neville shrugged, “People change who they’re close to. It’s not that bad, really.”

“No, but during war it feels more unforgiveable,” Ernie said, “So yeah. I took some time to myself, spent time with my parents, talked to them about everything.”

“How are they?” I asked seriously, resting my head on Neville’s shoulder. Neville rested his head on top of mine, and his curly hair tickled my face.

“Pretty good. Dad’s stressed,” Ernie frowned, “Says tensions are up at the Ministry – way up.”

“Why?” Neville asked worriedly.

“Because there should have been more guards watching the bus. Because the lack of protection of the students is no one’s fault but theirs. Because two people died, and their parents are furious, and people are still _acting_ like it’s the _Rebellion_ who’s the problem, and not a Ministry that has their heads so _far up_ their asses that they won’t even protect _children_ from _Death Eaters_ ,” Ernie’s voice got increasingly louder and angrier with each word, his face contorted into a glare.

“So… what do you propose?” I raised my eyebrows at him as his face grew just as red as his hair, and his accent as thick as mine.

“We need to do more. We need to take down the Ministry,” Ernie grunted.

“Are you mental?” Neville hissed.

“I mean it. Or at least displace the current regime – completely – and put in our people,” Ernie hissed softly enough that no one could hear him but us, “Get rid of the old guard. Fucking put their heads on pikes for all I care at this point. Two people have _died_. And they didn’t have to. And I’m furious.”

“The Minister is one of us…” I muttered.

“Yeah, and look how much good that’s been!” Ernie insisted, “They’ve bullied her and pressured her into basically just being – I don’t know – a token? She has no power at all. Otherwise, these bloody badges wouldn’t exist.”

“You have a point,” I acknowledged.

“We can’t just take down the Ministry, though,” Neville whispered, frowning angrily at Ernie.

“And why ever not?” Ernie demanded.

“Well – for one thing – they’re our only contact with the muggle world, officially, in the sense that – Amelia Bones talks to the Prime Minister, and she’s the only official who does – if Voldemort gets really bad – then – then – we need to tell the muggles, don’t we? Who else could get an audience with the Prime Minister if we don’t have a government?” Neville stammered out.

“Neville, we’d put in another government –“

“Fine, then, the disruption it would cause – the bad guys could take over – you remember that one Ravenclaw, from the beginning of first term – burning the whole bloody place down will help no one –“ Neville hissed, growing angrier.

“Maybe, but at this point I don’t fucking care. The Ministry has got to go, and nothing is going to change my mind,” Ernie snapped.

“Ernie, you’re being a little…” I began.

“What? Like you? I’m being like you, Maggie, so don’t you dare judge me,” Ernie snapped.

“Ernie, I get it,” I paused.

“I fucking watched Lavender die. I didn’t see Hannah die, which I guess is a blessing, not sure how I would have handled that, but I watched as Lavender – hit her head on the bus and – get thrown back into the side of it – and blood was everywhere – it was – look, it’s the Ministry’s fault, and they can’t fucking get away with it, so they have to burn down,” Ernie snarled.

I swallowed, looking at Ernie with sadness. Neville sighed next to me.

“Mate, I get it, I really do, and I’m not even arguing with your principle, I just don’t think it’ll work,” Neville explained, “The Ministry has too much support. The Backlash would basically slaughter us.”

Ernie grunted in anger and slumped in his seat, holding his face in his hands.

“Are you going to talk to Shae about all this?” I asked.

Ernie let out a derisive laugh, “As if I could get in to see her. She’s fighting all the time.”

“Not as much,” Neville shook his head, “She’s been here more, for Hermione.”

“Right,” Ernie sighed, “Hermione. How is she?”

“A complete and utter wreck, mate,” Neville said, “I’m seriously worried about her.”

“Harry should probably be woken up soon, I’m not sure who else could really help her…” Ernie suggested.

“If only, he’s still out, his lungs were basically mashed potatoes,” I shook my head.

“So how is Shae taking the time off from fighting? They need her up there, was my impression,” Ernie said.

“Neville and I have been fighting,” I explained calmly, “In her stead.”

“You’re joshing me,” Ernie raised his eyebrows, “They let you go?”

“Let is a strong word,” Neville snorted.

“We basically get smuggled out. Pretty sure Dumbledore knows even though we’re not allowed, but I think he knows there isn’t another option,” I paused, “I mean… we need to keep the giants back. Dumbledore’s not above sacrificing the few for the good of the many.”

“The better we hold them back, the less likely they’ll reach Hogwarts,” Neville agreed.

Ernie looked at both of us for a minute before stating, “I’m coming with next time.”

“Bloody hell, no –“ Neville groaned.

“You’re not of age yet, Ernie –“ I said sternly.

“Neither is Neville and _he_ gets to go!” Ernie shouted.

“Technically he’s _especially_ not allowed to, he just insists on coming because otherwise he’d be a nervous wreck and –“ I explained.

“Of course he’d be a nervous wreck, but I’m insisting too,” Ernie said stubbornly.

“Fucking – why?” Neville groaned.

“Because more people fighting is better help, I move earth, which I’m sure very few dragon types do, you’re all fire and nonsense like that, and I, too, don’t want to see people at this castle hurt – I want to help keep the demons at bay –“ Ernie explained.

“Okay I get that, I really do, but – but –“ Neville sighed.

“There aren’t any buts,” I interjected, “I don’t see why he can’t come, besides the fact that Lupin won’t take him.”

“We’ll just have Sirius escort us from now on, I guess,” Neville agreed.

“Can he apparated three people over at once?” Ernie asked seriously.

“Probably, if you have a good hold of one of us,” Neville said.

“I don’t really understand apparating, so I make no promises, but I don’t see why not,” I agreed.

“It might be complicated but I’ll bloody well figure it out. So tell me about what the battles are like – prepare me,” Ernie insisted. Neville started describing them to him, as I looked around the hall. It was a relatively quiet day, and few of our mates were around. I sighed and looked up at the front table, where Dumbledore and McGonagall were deep in discussion. I couldn’t help but be curious, but I sat back on my hands. I looked over at the Slytherin table, to see Malfoy sitting by himself, presumably deep in thought – he looked troubled, but at the very least, not terrified for his life.

I scowled. I didn’t know how to trust him, even if Dumbledore gave his word.

“Well that sounds like no fun at all,” Ernie said grumpily.

“No, it’s not,” Neville agreed, “Maggie?”

“Yeah?” I asked, broken from my thoughts.

“You alright?” Neville asked in concern.

“Oh – yeah – just thinking,” I paused, “How much can we really trust Malfoy?”

“None, I expect,” Ernie snorted.

“Right – uh – he came over to our side,” Neville said.

“You’re joshing me,” Ernie frowned.

“No, but I wish I was,” I scowled.

“He confessed what his mission was – something related to… getting the Death Eaters into the castle and getting an object in the Room of Requirement,” Neville explained. “A sort of crown thing.”

“A crown?” Ernie asked.

“Your guess is as good as mine,” I rolled my eyes.

“Dumbledore trusts it,” Neville said firmly, “And we saw how he’s been this year.”

“Yeah, and we’ve seen how he’s been the entirety of our lives,” Ernie snorted.

“I get that, but we have to give people chances. That’s the only way to get through this war,” Neville grunted.

“No, we have to watch our backs, _that’s_ the only way,” I laughed. Neville glared at me, and I glared back at him in annoyance.

“He’s literally turned the tide and we’re _still_ having this argument?” Neville demanded.

“Yeah,” I shrugged. Neville groaned loudly.

“Trouble in marital bliss?” Ernie joked.

“It’s a long term argument, it’s not a big deal,” I rolled my eyes.

“It’s not,” Neville agreed, “Speaking of, though…”

“Oh no,” Ernie groaned.

“Why the fuck haven’t you told Sam where you’ve been?” Neville demanded.

“He’s been really worried about you,” I agreed.

“That’s a surprise,” Ernie muttered.

“Oh bloody hell,” Neville said.

“Look, lately we haven’t had a single decent conversation. We’re always just shagging,” Ernie scowled deeply, “Ever since Sam had his – crisis of faith – it’s like he doesn’t want to talk about anything. It’s like he’s worried having a conversation that is deeper than a bloody creek will cause us to fight or have a conflict in beliefs.”

“That’s not exactly the biggest vote of confidence for your relationship,” Neville groaned.

“No, it bloody well isn’t,” Ernie paused, “Why must Sam be like this?”

“Because he’s Sam,” I offered, “I’m serious. He’s him, and he’s an introvert who has literally kept away from human contact for most of his formative years.”

“He doesn’t _like_ that he’s done this,” Neville sighed.

“I’m sure he doesn’t, but you don’t just train someone to not be themself in a short two years,” I paused, “He probably doesn’t want to break up with Ernie and is worried that any discussion about his fears will lead to that.”

“That’s complete bullshit,” Ernie paused, “If anything is going to make us break it off, it’s the fact that we don’t bloody _talk_.”

“Tell him that? Merlin,” I shook my head.

“How is simple communication so difficult for people,” Neville agreed.

“Oh fuck off, we don’t all find our soulmates the first day of school,” Ernie snapped.

“I mean we had problems with communication too,” I offered, “We didn’t get together for ages, we didn’t tell each other how we felt, that sort of thing, you know?”

“Well… yeah,” Ernie sighed, “Fine, then what’s the difference?”

“Work, and selflessness,” Neville said simply.

“You have to both be selfless and selfish in a relationship. You have to take care of yourself, but you have to care for your partner equally – neither should take precedence over the other,” I continued.

“Equality is definitely important. You see yourselves as equals, not just in terms of ability, or morality, or worth or what have you – but also you see each other’s goals and dreams and needs and wants equally. You compromise, you find middle ground, you build each other up,” Neville agreed.

“You value each other as much as yourself, it’s that simple,” I paused, “For example, Neville and I have been fighting about Malfoy since the beginning of last term. We both know we disagree about this and we’re frustrated that we can’t persuade the other. But we also know that it isn’t more important than how we feel about each other, so we don’t insult the other during the argument. We both know that it’s more important that we stick together and focus on what’s important, rather than a petty argument.”

“Perspective,” Neville nodded.

“Bloody hell,” Ernie groaned, “Why are you two like this?”

“Once upon a time, I was the victim of rape –“ I began.

“Okay okay okay,” Ernie rolled his eyes, “Fine, I know all the gorey details, we don’t need to get into it. Class?”

“That thing, right,” Neville joked.

“That joke is getting old,” I teased.

“And yet, it remains funny, because of the truth of it,” Neville grinned.

“Oh wait, it’s Monday, we have Defense,” Ernie gasped, “I can talk to Sirius about helping.”

“He’s not going to be enthusiastic –“

“He’s _Sirius_.”

“A fair point, but… Lupin?” I offered, “The psychological, nagging voice of Lupin –“

“Well it’s worth a shot,” Ernie grinned. I rolled my eyes, but I was happy to see that he was happy, especially given how traumatic it must have been to see Lavender thrown about the bus. We walked through the corridors together, Neville chatting happily about working with plants in the greenhouses again yesterday, when we ran into Sam.

“Where the fuck have you been?” Sam shouted, folding his arms over his chest and glaring at Ernie.

“Look, we have class, we can talk after –“ Ernie began.

“Fuck that,” Sam snapped, “I was just thinking in Runes, just now, oh I hope Ernie is alright – I know he had problems with his mental health last year – if he’s killed himself I’ll never forgive myself!”

“Fuck,” Ernie grunted, “You choose _now_ to care about my wellbeing?”

“Oh bloody –“

“Sam, I saw Lavender get tossed around the bus like a rag doll. One of my best mates from childhood got killed. And I went _home_ , to talk to my _parents_ ,” Ernie insisted, “Not like you tell me when _you’re_ in distress!”

“Not this again!” Sam roared. I looked over at Neville with wide eyes, and his expression matched mine.

“We barely talk, Sam!”

“Do we have to?”

“We’re in a _relationship!_ ”

“Yeah, and we’re both stressed and like to, in general, keep to ourselves! That’s who we are!”

“When I am in a relationship I like an _escape_ from being secluded –“

“We’re different people, then!”

“You need to find a compromise,” I muttered quietly. Ernie glared at me, and Sam followed suit.

“Mags, don’t butt in,” Neville muttered.

“I will butt in,” I said defiantly, “You’re both being wankers.”

“Oi!”

“I’m serious,” I snapped, “You care about each other, you’re good mates – you’ve been through a _shitton_ , the _both of you_ – you’re both closed off people, you’re right! You need to be open with each other but you also need to respect boundaries! Find a bloody compromise, because you _are_ well suited – this is just both of you being equally stubborn with each other!”

Sam and Ernie glared at me for a minute, and then glared at each other more. Neville snorted quietly.

“You guys need to have a serious, calm discussion, but not now, we’ll be late to Defense,” I stated simply. Sam harrumphed, but we all walked together awkwardly to the classroom. Neville and I sat away from them, looking at each other in amusement as Sirius came out and started teaching us about using the environment while dueling. After class, Ernie – as expected – walked up to Sirius at the front of the room. Neville and I hung back behind him; Hermione must have been relaxing somewhere and taking time for her mind.

“Sorry I’ve been away, Professor – I assume you and the other Professors got the letter from my parents?” Ernie said.

“Oh yes – ask the two behind you for notes from what you’ve missed, but you should be fine,” Sirius nodded.

“And… I wanted to ask a favor,” Ernie frowned.

“Anything,” Sirius paused, looking back over at Neville and me curiously.

“I want to help Neville and Maggie protect the North while Shae conducts therapy sessions,” Ernie said, puffing out his chest somewhat, “Even if it’s just sometimes.”

“I… don’t know, Ernie,” Sirius sighed.

“Look, I want to do my part. The more help they have up north, the better a chance we have that they won’t get through to hurt Hogwarts,” Ernie paused, “And the faster we can get them to go away.”

Sirius frowned heavily.

“Not to mention, Sirius,” I paused, “The new dragons.”

Sirius sighed, holding his face in his hand, “Fine. Fine! But don’t you dare tell anyone.”

Ernie’s face broke into a wide grin.

“I swear to god. You kids are going to be the death of me,” Sirius paused, “Seriously. Don’t tell anyone. Dumbledore will have my head.”

“Does he know about Neville and me?” I asked.

“Of course he does, but he’s staying quiet since it’s helping,” Sirius groaned, “But if he finds out I’m taking another one of you –“

“He doesn’t have to know,” Ernie laughed.

Sirius stared at Ernie critically, “Right. At any rate I’ll have to take you in groups, more than two side along apparaters and it’s harder to do without splinching.”

Neville and Ernie grimaced in appreciation. I frowned in confusion.

“Splinching?”

“Sometimes I forget your parents didn’t really tell you anything,” Sirius frowned, looking at me.

“Yeah, well, fill me in,” I rolled my eyes.

“When you apparate, sometimes it doesn’t go well,” Neville said softly, “Sometimes… parts of you are left behind.”

“And that’s gruesome, I assume,” I grimaced.

“Very,” Ernie reassured.

“It sounds funny, but it’s quite terrible,” Sirius paused, “So… well. Yes. I’ll have to take you all in trips.”

“Fine with me,” Ernie shrugged.

Sirius sighed, “Alright. Well you lot should go to… wherever you need to go next.”

We all nodded and left, Ernie looking decidedly more cheerful.

“You should call a DA meeting,” Ernie offered, “I want to discuss strategy.”

“Strategy for _what?_ ” Neville demanded, looking exhausted.

“Moving forward,” Ernie explained, “I want to discuss what are plans are.”

“No one’s going to be able to do a rally, mate, the bus got turned over,” Neville shook his head.

“Alright, then, we try to figure something else out. We can’t let the rebellion die, so we have to do something,” Ernie rolled his eyes, “It’s been ages since we have.”

“Fine,” I sighed, “But we’ll need to arrange other transportation.”

“Flu powder still exists, doesn’t it? And we could make portkeys,” Ernie rolled his eyes.

“We’d need Ministry authorization for that – not likely to get it, are we?” I snorted.

“No,” Ernie grinned slyly, “But I’m sure we could figure out how to make an unauthorized one. Might even be a useful skill to have, in the future.”

I looked at him in shock as Neville groaned loudly.

“Ernie we could get in loads of trouble,” I finally said, “We don’t want to exacerbate things.”

“How would they even know? For all they would know, we just took the bus,” Ernie snorted, “I’m going to start reading up. You call the meeting! Ta!”

I watched him go in pure bemusement as Neville held his face in his hands.

“Is this what it’s like to be friends with me?” I asked seriously.

“Yes,” Neville groaned into his hands.

“I am so sorry,” I sighed.

“It’s fine,” Neville leaned over and softly kissed me on the top of the head, “For you, I didn’t mind. Anyway, call the meeting I suppose.”

I pulled out my galleon and sent the message, groaning internally as I did so.

The meeting convened in the Room of Requirement that evening; Hermione showed up, looking tired and green. Neville and I were already waiting there, cuddling on one of the sofas, and I grimaced at Hermione apologetically.

“I know you need time to yourself, but Ernie insisted,” I explained.

“So he’s alive, then?” she asked tiredly.

“Yeah, and he’s in a right state, so we should be patient,” Neville urged.

“I’ll try,” she sighed, sitting down with us, “I just can’t escape my mind, lately…”

“Yeah,” I paused, “Have you been taking the potion?”

“Religiously,” Hermione muttered.

“Have you tried that?” Neville offered.

“Wha?” Hermione whispered.

“Hermione, you’re Jewish, but you never talk about it, and you never practice anything,” Neville continued, “But it’s a huge part of who you are. Maybe doing more of that will relax you, or help you find some peace. I dunno, I’m not religious.”

Hermione frowned heavily, “It’s… hard to keep up with it at this school. No one’s really religious.”

“Talk to Nadia? Or Anthony – I mean – he’s Jewish too,” I offered.

“I’ll… think about it,” Hermione mumbled as more people came in. Ernie walked up to us and nodded, looking determined; Sam walked in soon after, and sulked in a corner of the room.

“Did you… talk?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh yeah,” Ernie snorted, “We definitely talked, in which I explained that I wanted more compared to now, and he was resistant, and he said that he would have been open to this before, but then I took of for a bunch of weeks, and didn’t tell him anything, and he is furious about that, so we’re not talking for a bit.”

Neville groaned loudly.

“It’s fine, if Sam needs time, I understand,” Ernie paused, “I probably should have talked to him.”

“You think?” I snorted.

Ernie rolled his eyes and went up to the front of the room. I followed, internally groaning, but not entirely eager to externally do so. Neville looked similarly annoyed with me as we stood in the front of the room.

“Hello gents,” Ernie greeted, grinning.

“So what’s this about, then?” Michael Corner asked, frowning.

“Ernie is… a wee bit angry,” I said calmly. Ernie glared at me in response.

“You’re just proving my point, mate,” I insisted.

“Fine, yes, I’m angry. Haven’t you all _thought_ about this?” Ernie shouted, his accent growing as thick as mine again, “Haven’t you? At all?”

“Thought about what?” Nadia sighed.

“Two people have _died_ – died – because the bloody – the _Ministry_ – cares more about keeping the power in the hands of those who have it, and keeping us – the fucking underdogs – under their bloody – bloody feet!” Ernie spluttered out, “They died because the Ministry didn’t bother to send us decent protection – we had to protect ourselves – on a bus that could be found by anyone – and two people have now died!”

Everyone we very quiet. It had been ages since Hannah and Lavender had passed, but I don’t think anyone had considered this, apart from Ernie.

“This is ridiculous! I’ve had enough!” Ernie shouted, “It needs to go down – we need to take the people we like out of there and burn the fucker down.”

“Ernie, think about what you’re saying,” Susan murmured.

“Susan, your Aunt can’t do shit, they have their feet on her throat!” Ernie roared.

“I know, but –“

“It needs to go down. It has done too much – it has hurt too many – and it just needs to _go_ ,” Ernie paused, “And you all know I’m right. We tried to get them to see reason and they responded with shackles. We’ve tried to get them to listen to us and they put muzzles on us. We’ve tried – everything – and they won’t bloody well listen and I’m sick of trying!”

“Ernie… we can’t just take down the government. We don’t have the manpower, the support, the people we need,” Ginny whispered, “If nothing else, the Backlash will murder us all.”

“Fine, but we have to be more active. These stupid rallies are just us preaching to the choir. We have to fight back,” Ernie snapped.

“How?” Nadia asked.

“We could do what the rebellion at large did, and just… do it ourselves,” Ginny offered softly, clearly looking awkward for talking to Nadia again.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“I mean… er… what if we marched on the Ministry? Like the Rebellion did? I know they were thrown in jail, but that was for inciting violence and property damage, not to mention, I mean, we wouldn’t do that – just a peaceful protest? March in the building, the atrium and such? And even if – I mean – even if they want to arrest us, they won’t, because we’re the kids. And we can have the Order guard and such – why not?” Ginny explained.

“That’s not a terrible idea,” Neville said eagerly, clearly trying to steer Ernie away from further thoughts of violence, “It shouldn’t be too difficult to pull off.”

“There’s still the problem of not having a bus, though –“ Nadia interjected quietly.

“We could just make portkeys. We’re only going to London,” I offered.

“Make portkeys? Unauthorized ones?” Hermione asked, glaring. Neville also glared at me a little, but Ernie was grinning.

“Look, it’s obviously not ideal, but think about it – really think about it. The flu is out. The bus is out. We can’t apparate the number of people over there that we’d need. So, portkey,” I paused, “If we have an adult help us out, it shouldn’t be hard.”

“Okay, but making an unauthorized portkey is _illegal_ ,” Hermione paused, “and gives them a perfectly valid reason to lock us up.”

“Yeah but how would they know that’s how we traveled? It’s not like unauthorized portkeys are detectable. For all they would know, we took the bus, or apparated,” I offered.

“Okay, but they could very easily figure it out,” Hermione said sternly, “I really don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Why not try it? There isn’t a better way to get there, but Ernie’s right, we do have to do something. This is there fault,” Ginny agreed angrily.

Hermione grunted in annoyance, but looked resigned.

“Look, at the very least we should ask some Order members what we could do. I think we could find enough of them who agree that we can’t just _not_ do anything,” I said, “Ernie’s right. People have died, and the Ministry is still playing with us.”

“Fine,” Hermione sighed.

“You should help plan for all this, Hermione,” Ginny suggested, “To help us keep a level head.”

“Yeah, I will,” Hermione said, pausing and looking thoughtful.

“Are you sure you can, Hermione?” Neville asked seriously. Hermione looked at him and nodded.

“I think I need to keep my mind on something else, and planning rebellion activities always used to relax me…” Hermione’s voice trailed off into the air again.

“Yeah, but would they relax you now?” I frowned.

“I think so,” Hermione nodded.

“I can help too,” Nadia offered, looking nervous but determined, “Should be able to help Hermione if she gets too… you know.”

“Are you sure?” Hermione asked, with the unasked question of _how will you deal with Ginny_ hanging in the air.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Nadia nodded, “If Ginny is alright with it.”

“I am!” Ginny said very fast, “I really am, it would be great to have your help.”

The awkwardness in the air was literally palpable. Seamus coughed, looking over at Dean with his eyebrows raised.

“And on that note, I had some business to discuss as well,” Dean said, taking the hint from Seamus and standing up, “As many of you know, Seamus and I are engaged.”

A few people in the crowd cheered. Ernie grinned too, seemingly placated by the idea of a task force, planning a protest on the Ministry.

“We’re going to start planning it soon, but we wanted to announce that you are all, obviously, invited,” Dean beamed.

“Me mam wants it to be a big affair,” Seamus agreed, “She’s… fairly excited.”

“As is my mum,” Dean paused, “So we want you all to come, and it’ll be loads of fun, and expect to get very drunk.”

People cheered and laughed before getting up and leaving the room, the meeting clearly winding down. Seamus was grinning and talking to Dean about their Irish, Catholic, Wixen, Gay wedding, which made me laugh quietly.

“Are you sure about this?” Hermione asked Nadia softly.

“Yes, I really am,” Nadia agreed, “I need to try and mend some fences.”

“So when should we meet?” Ernie asked, clapping his hands together and rubbing them excitedly.

“Er…” Ginny grimaced.

“Ernie, it’s not that we don’t value your input, we really do, but I think you need to take a step back from everything,” Hermione murmured.

“Fucking –“

“Ernie, this entire day you’ve been a bit of a whirlwind,” I paused, “I really do think you need to just… relax. Take time for yourself. Maybe step back from everything.”

Ernie glared at me, left the room in a huff, and slammed the door behind him. I raised my eyebrows and Neville held his face in his hands for the millionth time that day.

“Bet you don’t think I was in the wrong anymore,” Sam laughed sarcastically, walking up to us.

“No, I think Ernie is in a right state, but you have to admit he has a point about the communication between you two thing,” I said.

“Of course he does,” Sam groaned, “But right now he’s completely without reason, I can’t logic this out with him. Best to just wait till he comes back to Earth.”

“Hannah died,” Susan snapped, looking at us angrily, “They were best mates. Closer than I was to either of them. Would we be yelling at Maggie, if Neville had died?”

“If Neville died, I’d be dead,” I said softly. Susan frowned.

“Okay, bad example. Would we be yelling at Maggie if Harry died?” Susan furthered.

“No,” Sam admitted.

“He needs to come through this on his own time, in his own way. I’d rather he _angry_ than _killing himself_ ,” Susan hissed.

“I’m inclined to agree,” I nodded.

“We just shouldn’t let him destroy everything around us in the process,” Neville snapped.

“Of course not,” Susan agreed, “But we have to be patient. Especially you, Sam, seriously.”

“Oh come off it –“

“Sam, do you love Ernie?” Susan asked sharply.

“Of course I do –“ Sam said, looking outraged.

“Then what the _fuck_ are you doing?” Susan demanded. Neville looked so impressed, a grin broke out on his face.

“Gain some damn empathy, nurse your hurt pride in your own private corner, and go talk to your bloody boyfriend,” Susan insisted. Sam glared for a long minute, while Hermione giggled – a relieving sound – behind her hand. Ginny was grinning from ear to ear, and Nadia was snorting quietly. I bit my lip to hold my own laughter.

“Fine,” Sam snapped, “Fine.” He left, slamming the door much as Ernie had. I looked over at the others and sniggered quietly.

“Alright,” Ginny rolled her eyes, “Hopefully that’ll settle out soon.”

“Mhm,” Hermione agreed. We all left, Neville looking much cheerier now that Ernie’s whirlwind was seemingly being contained.

The week went on relatively peacefully enough; the battles up in the North were too chaotic even for Shae to try and leave without getting attacked, so Dr. Wilson was filling in for her with Hermione and everyone else, really. Sam and Ernie were talking again, and though they seemed more stilted than they used to be, at least Sam was making an effort.

“So I got a letter this morning,” Neville said that Friday, looking perplexed. I looked up, my face filled with food, in confusion. Hermione was pouring over a book, seemingly about how to make a portkey, her brow furrowed in concentration.

“It’s from Carlisle Urquart,” Neville clarified.

“’Oo?” I asked, food spluttering out of my mouth.

“Honestly,” Hermione grunted softly into her book.

“The man who was going to check my work on the genetics stuff,” Neville explained, “He says he wants to come up and meet with me next week.”

“Is that good?” I asked.

“I think so,” Neville paused, “He doesn’t sound hostile, he sounds like it’s going to be a meeting of the minds, sort of thing…”

“Then good,” I said, smiling at him and reaching across the table to stroke his face. He smiled into my hand, pressing his cheek up against my palm, and kissing the inside of my wrist.

“Oh _do_ try and keep that down,” Hermione grumbled. I stuck my tongue out at her and reached across the table to kiss Neville softly, running my hands deeply through his hair and holding him to me tightly. Neville made a small, happy sound, pulling my own face into his hands to hold us tighter together.

“Oh come _on_ ,” Hermione groaned.

“Ahem,” a voice said behind us. I broke away from Neville, flushed deeply from head to toe, and feeling slightly lightheaded. McGonagall was looking at me in amusement.

“If you are not _too_ busy, all three of you,” McGonagall smirked, “Madam Pomfrey wishes to awaken Mr. Potter today.”

Hermione let out a cry that was much too loud, holding her face in her hands. I grinned excitedly and jumped up, looking at McGonagall hopefully.

“I won’t expect you in transfiguration today, Longbottom _do_ try and make up the work,” McGonagall asked. Neville nodded, and we ran together through the corridors, running up as fast as we could towards the Hospital Wing. Hermione lead the run, sprinting like some sort of cheetah up the stairs, so emotional that she just turned into her bird self and flew.

“Oi! Mione!” Neville shouted. I followed her as fast as I could, tapping into my dragon powers; Neville lagged behind significantly, loudly grumbling up the staircase.

I sprinted into the Hospital Wing, panting slightly. Hermione was already sitting at the side of Harry’s bed, crying softly and opening a book. Madam Pomfrey was tutting as she sat Harry’s sleeping body up against the bed, pulling out a potion. Hermione was reading the book intently, and whispering softly to herself.

“What are you doing?” I asked, looking at her and raising my eyebrows.

“Praying,” she muttered, holding up the old book, “This is my siddur. It’s been buried underneath all my textbooks since first year.”

“Ah,” I nodded, sitting at the foot of the bed, “Is it helping?”

“I think so, now shush,” she insisted, returning to muttering Hebrew words quietly. Neville ran into the room then, panting and leaning against my shoulder, very out of breath. Madam Pomfrey ladled potion down Harry’s throat carefully, waving her wand over him and watching closely.

Harry shifted a bit – but this wasn’t new, he had shifted often while he was under. Hermione prayed louder and Neville reached over to pat her on the shoulder, rubbing it softly. I reached out and grabbed Harry’s hand, holding it tightly.

Harry started making small sounds, which _was_ new, and Hermione was sobbing earnestly now. He shifted more, and his eyes blinked open, making relief like I hadn’t felt in ages wash over me.

“’Ello everyone,” Harry said weakly, his voice very soft. Hermione dropped her book and threw herself on top of Harry, holding him tightly and squeezing him.

“Be careful!” Pomfrey scolded, “Mr. Potter, you’ve been unconscious for some weeks, so your lungs could recover.”

“Ah, makes sense,” Harry nodded, “Have they?”

“I would say so,” Pomfrey assured, “I’ve been running tests and I’ll want to examine you, but you should be feeling _much_ better now.”

“Oh good,” Harry breathed, “How should I be taking care of myself?”

“Well I still wouldn’t overexert yourself,” Pomfrey paused, “But you should be able to do your normal activities well enough – schoolwork, being with you friends, even Quidditch, if you start out slow. And you should be able to fight, just be sure to know yourself – know when things are getting worse – and step out if you have to.”

“Wow,” Harry gasped, “Wow – um – okay – thank you.”

“Of course,” Pomfrey paused, “This isn’t a clean bill of health. You’ll have problems all of your life, and you will still cough up blood from time to time. But you shouldn’t be rendered invalid nearly as much anymore.”

“Thank you so much, Madam Pomfrey,” Harry said sincerely.

“Alright, I’ll leave you to your friends, then,” Pomfrey nodded, leaving the room. Harry pulled Hermione away from his chest and in for a kiss, making Hermione cry more.

“Love, Hermione, I’m so glad you’re okay,” Harry whispered.

“I’m so glad _you’re_ okay,” Hermione blubbered.

“Last I saw you, you were recovering from being buried and attacked –“

“Last I saw you, you were collapsing and coughing up blood,” Hermione insisted.

“It’s good you’re both awake and better, it’s true,” Neville affirmed.

“Thank Merlin you two are alive,” Harry whispered, “I was so convinced…”

“Yeah, well, that’s in the long past for us now,” I admitted, “We have so much to tell you.”

“I can imagine,” Harry paused, “Hermione, Hermione love why are you still crying –“

“I – I – I – I’m so… relieved… I can’t…” Hermione sobbed.

“Hermione has been… well. She’s been very stressed,” Neville said.

“Her anxiety has been through the roof,” I murmured, “You being unconscious didn’t help much.”

Harry looked absolutely horrified, holding Hermione too him tighter.

“I’m here now, Mione, I’m here,” he murmured softly in her ear, gently rubbing her back. She sobbed louder, Neville and I looking at each other nervously.

“Do you guys want time alone?” I asked.

“Er… might be for the best,” Harry agreed. Neville and I nodded, me patting Harry on the foot, as we left the room and walked through the corridors together.

“Well, he can start helping her now, so that’s good,” I said firmly.

“Yeah, I just hope it works,” Neville sighed.

“Harry feeling better is _bound_ to be good for his mental health, too,” I said.

“I agree, but I’m still nervous,” Neville paused, “I’m nervous that no amount of help is going to pull Hermione out of this. She was _attacked_ and _beaten_ in the street. You saw it! It was horrific.”

“I know…” I sighed.

“They were using racial slurs – blood purity slurs – every type of slur imaginable – you know Hermione, Mags, this is the stuff of her absolute worst nightmares…” Neville’s voice trailed off.

“It is,” I agreed, “But we have to pull her out of it _somehow_.”

“I just don’t know how,” Neville shook his head, “I simply don’t know.”

I squeezed his hand tightly and kissed him, feeling worried. But at least Harry was awake.

We reconvened in the Hospital Wing that evening, Hermione clearly taking a nap inside Harry’s bed with him. Harry was up, not doing much of anything, with his hand under his chin. He looked lost in thought.

“Hey Harry,” I greeted, walking up and sitting in Hermione’s chair.

“Hey,” he responded, his voice still lost in the air.

“What are you thinking about?” I asked softly.

“Trying to figure out what to do,” Harry said simply.

“We’ve been too,” Neville agreed, “Haven’t come up with much, apart from more therapy.”

“Yeah,” Harry paused, “She said she’s tried reconnecting with her faith and that’s been helping a little. I hope it helps more.”

“I’m sure you being awake will be good, too,” I nodded.

“Oh definitely,” Harry sighed, “I’m just… horrified. I’m not surprised, of course. What she went through would put anyone in such a state. But…”

“But?” Neville asked.

“I’ve been unconscious for _weeks_. I didn’t see the transition – or what she was like when she woke up – or anything,” Harry paused, “I need to… to process all of this.”

“Yeah, makes sense,” Neville said, “Glad you’re back, Harry.”

“And I’m _really_ back now,” Harry said, determinedly, “Fresh lungs, fresh energy, fresh attitude.”

“That’s a good way to look at it,” I grinned.

“It’s the _only_ way to look at it. The war needs me – everyone needs me. Dumbledore needs me. I have to get back to getting that memory,” Harry paused, “We need to know what we’re up against.”

“You should probably talk to him soon,” Neville agreed.

“I will,” Harry affirmed, “And I’ll restart Quidditch back up, too. I can join the team again, guys,” Harry had tears in his eyes, “I can _fly_.”

“That’s wonderful,” I said, gripping his hand tightly, “I’m so happy. Really.”

“I’m so excited. I should do it soon. I’ll just be – oh man,” Harry paused, “It’ll be like – like – like being _me_ , again.”

“I definitely agree,” Neville nodded.

“This war has taken away everything from us, and it hasn’t been going on long much at all,” I murmured, “It’s time we start taking things back.”

“We _all_ should,” Harry agreed, “Me – Quidditch. Hermione – her faith. You – Neville – what do you want back?”

Neville looked thoughtful, “I’m… not sure.”

Harry looked at him questioningly.

“The thing is, the best thing that’s happened to me, in my life, happened when the war had begun…” Neville looked at me, “I don’t know what could top the joy I feel when I’m with you.”

I flushed, beaming at him, “Same, of course.”

“Well of course,” Harry agreed, “I know there’s no way to top that. I feel the same about Mione. But surely, there’s something you miss.”

Neville nodded, stroking his stubble, “I… I just miss _gardening_. All I do anymore is experiments, on plants, on human DNA, on whatever. Even if it’s just selective breeding, I’m doing it for a purpose other than just loving the plants. I just want to go out there and garden for the sake of gardening.”

“Do it! That’s a fantastic idea,” Harry nodded, “Maggie?”

“I…” I paused. Who was I, before all this?

“I…” my voice trailed off again.

“I don’t think I can be that person again, at all,” I murmured. They both watched me sadly.

“She was killed when he attacked me,” I finally choked out. Neville reached out and held me tightly.

“Then find something new,” Harry murmured, “Find something new that can make you feel refreshed. I’m serious.”

I nodded, looking at him and smiling, “I will. I’ll find something.”

It was hard to not be hopeful, with him looking like his old self again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY! So I reread the story again to get inspiration and my bearings and it bloody well WORKED. YESSSS. Now I'm completely rewriting (well, for the most part) my plan for the story. I'm not done with it yet, but I felt it was okay for me to quickly get out a chapter to reassure everyone that I'm working on the story. 
> 
> I'm really hopeful about this. I have some new ideas and new places I want to take the story. It's also not going to be as depressing as it has been - still dark, still serious, and there will be depressing things, but I think I'm going to pace it out a lot better, which I hope will help. I think it will, at any rate. 
> 
> Please please please comment! I'll write a new chapter as soon as my plan is done. 
> 
> ~ Meig


	130. Chapter One Hundred and Twenty-Eight: March 8 - 11, 1997, Hogwarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "And when I'm up   
> It's better than ever   
> And when I'm down   
> I'm desperate   
> And when I'm up   
> It's better than ever   
> And when I'm down   
> I'm desperate   
> I'm desperate   
> I'm desperate 
> 
> So what if I'm crazier than crazy?   
> So what if I'm sicker than sick?   
> So what if I'm out of control?   
> Maybe that's what I like about it   
> So what?   
> So what?"   
> ~ Three Days Grace, "So What"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for Sexual Content between the lines

Chapter 128: March 8 – 11, 1997, Hogwarts

I stared at McGonagall nervously, and she stared back, with more of a smirk on her face than anything else.

“Are you _sure_ this won’t hurt them?” I begged. The thirteen raptors were scurrying about on the floor, the babies big enough now that they weren’t even really in much danger of being stepped on.

“Yes, Maggie, do you not trust me anymore?” McGonagall laughed. I sighed, clutching my wand tightly.

“I know, but I just –“

“If you do this, you’ll ensure that they’ll remain, even if something happens to you,” McGonagall promised.

“Alright… Alright,” I nodded, “Do I have to do this with the babies, too?”

“ _Yes_ , Maggie, it doesn’t hurt to be safe,” McGonagall shook her head in bemusement.

“Alright,” I sighed again, looking at the raptors below me. Blue chirped at me curiously and I took a deep breath. I waved my wand, muttering the incantations needed, and the raptors all looked up and stared at me in confusion for a moment. I looked back up at McGonagall as they returned to what they were doing, frowning.

“That’s it?” I asked.

“That’s it,” McGonagall assured, “They should be permanent, now.”

“Can we.. check?” I frowned.

“Not without killing you,” McGonagall paused, “Don’t worry, Maggie, I heard your incantations. They’ll hold.”

“Okay,” I grinned, “Finally. I should have done that ages ago. It was fairly irresponsible that I didn’t.”

“Well, you’ve done it now,” McGonagall paused, “Shall we work on the _Suchomimus_?”

I nodded, relieved. The raptors played and chirped around us as we worked on the calculations and diagrams, but I really didn’t mind. McGonagall seemed more amused with their chatter than anything.

At one point, Blue hopped up into my lap, looking up at me and chirping in confusion. I _was_ rather ignoring them, focusing on my work as much as I was. I smiled at Blue and gave her soft scritchles, her puffing up happily.

“I promise to take care of them,” McGonagall said suddenly. I looked up at her and raised my eyebrows.

“If something happens. I promise,” McGonagall repeated. She looked choked up, and I didn’t want to press the issue more.

“Thank you,” I murmured. Blue nestled against my stomach and napped softly. I went back to work, calmly sketching out diagrams of dinosaur bones, biting my lip in concentration. In fact, the chirping of the raptors and the sound of my quill scratching against the parchment relaxed me exponentially.

“Professor?” I said after a while. McGonagall made a sound of acknowledgement, her nose deep within a book.

“Let’s say I…” I swallowed. McGonagall raised her head from the book, looking at me seriously.

“Let’s say I wanted to take up another hobby,” I said calmly, “Just… I dunno. As a fresh start. I can’t go back to who I was before… he attacked me. I can’t. I’ve tried, and I’ve failed. And I’ve had things that have taken me through the last two things – my transfiguration, Neville, activism… pranks are ruined for me, now, I can’t unassociate them from someone who, essentially, killed me, and someone who’s death will haunt me forever… er… archery is more of a survival strategy now, isn’t it, and… I dunno. I need a hobby that’s fresh and new, something to take my mind off of things and make me feel… renewed. I don’t know, am I making any sense?” I asked.

“I think so, yes,” McGonagall paused, “I was worried what you were going to say would be much more serious than that, my word.”

“Sorry,” I grimaced.

“No no, that was on me. I was using some… fears of mine,” McGonagall said, “At any rate, well let’s see. You’re awfully good at drawing dinosaurs and other animals.”

I looked down at my sketches and shrugged, “I mean, yeah, but I’m bad at drawing basically everything else. I can’t draw human faces for the life of me.”

“Alright, well, animal drawing is nothing to sneeze at…” McGonagall frowned.

“No, but I just associate all this sketching with work, with transfiguration,” I explained, “I don’t think I’d find it to be much of an escape.”

“No, no I can see that,” McGonagall agreed, “Hmm. Well, what about other artistic pursuits? What about playing an instrument?”

“I am the opposite of musically inclined,” I shook my head.

“Not even the guitar?” McGonagall frowned.

“No, definitely not,” I said, “I don’t even like _listening_ to music.”

“Well then,” McGonagall sighed, “Perhaps another type of creative outlet… what about writing?”

“I can’t write much beyond essays and technical stuff,” I responded, “I mean… I dunno. I just don’t have a story in me.”

“Well, one would argue your life is a story,” McGonagall smirked. I rolled my eyes at her in annoyance.

“Any other ideas?” I asked desperately. McGonagall frowned at me.

“We are rather scraping the barrel here, aren’t we… hmm. Should we keep thinking of creative pursuits?” McGonagall asked.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, perhaps another physical activity? To complement your other skills?” McGonagall continued.

“Eh…” I shook my head, “I think I get all of that out, you know, fighting for my life all the time…”

“Yes well, that would stand to reason. More academic or philosophical pursuits?” McGonagall asked.

“Transfiguration and evolution take up all my time on that…” I sighed, “All my extra mental power. I… I don’t think it would even _help_ , much, really…”

“Hmm,” McGonagall frowned more, “Perhaps something more spiritual? Like Hermione’s more recent quest?”

“Er…” I grimaced in embarrassment, “No, I don’t think that’s for me.” McGonagall nodded, sighing heavily.

“No, no I didn’t think it would be… I suppose that just leaves creative pursuits, then,” McGonagall groaned, “Unless there’s something social…?”

“Ha!” I shook my head, “Professor, honestly, do I _need_ more social contact in my life?”

“Well, I didn’t think so but we’re running out of options,” McGonagall rolled her eyes at me, “Alright. Creative things. What about crafts? Such as knitting, or weaving, or…”

I groaned again. McGonagall smirked at me.

“You know, if you don’t _want_ any help…”

“No, no, I do!” I protested.

“Well we’re running out of options, here,” McGonagall reminded.

“I… yeah,” I sighed, looking around the room.

“I don’t like music,” I said, “But there are sounds that relax me…”

“Such as?” McGonagall asked.

“Well, nature. The forest. Birds chirping, creeks bubbling, frogs croaking. The sound of a twig snapping, or the wind rustling through the leaves,” I said.

“Hmm. So something that involves you going outside more?” McGonagall offered.

“Yeah, yeah I think that would be good,” I nodded.

“Hmm. So something creative, that takes you outside…. Watercolors?”

“Professor,” I groaned quietly.

“Just normal painting?”

“I don’t think so…”

“Perhaps, charcoal? Colored pencils?”

“Professor, we already basically ruled that out…”

“Photography?”

I looked at her with raised eyebrows, “Photography.”

“Nature photography, specifically,” McGonagall clarified, “You could go out, sit around, take pictures of birds. Merlin, I would even bet that sitting still to try and photograph animals without startling them would even be _good_ for you.”

“I…” I paused, “I’m not sure I’d want it to be, say, wixen photography… it’s all in black and white…”

“No, indeed, colored photography would be much more poignant,” McGonagall paused, “For a people so high on their own prowess you’d think we’d have colored pictures.”

I snorted loudly.

“I can look into where you could get some good, Hogwarts-safe cameras, perhaps?” McGonagall offered, “And you can at least try it out.”

“Sure,” I paused, “It’s not a _terrible_ idea.”

“Great,” McGonagall nodded, “Now please take your flock out of here. The birds are getting to me.”

I laughed, leaving the room and dragging the raptors with me, everyone chirping and cawing at me as we walked through the castle. We reached our room and I wandered inside, looking around for Neville and not finding him there.

I frowned in sadness, leaving the raptors and going out on my own, wandering through the castle and out to the grounds. People were milling about relatively calmly, but I wasn’t really looking at them as I reached the Greenhouses and went inside.

“Mags!” Neville greeted, covered from head to toe in dirt.

“What did you do to yourself, then?” I laughed, walking up to him and wiping the dirt off of his face. The dirt wiped away revealed his extra pale skin underneath, him beaming at me through the soil.

“I was trying to repot the Venomous Tentacula, like I’ve done a thousand times –“

“Of course –“

“Aaaand I dropped the soil all over myself. It’s rather sad, really. Been working in the Greenhouse for six years and I’m still a klutz,” Neville lamented as I finished wiping off his face.

“Well if you weren’t at least _a little_ clumsy you wouldn’t be you, so,” I grinned, reaching up and kissing him softly. He kissed me back happily, grinning at me in response to my statement.

“I appreciate that,” he said, beaming at me from ear to ear, “So what brings you down here, besides psychically coming to my rescue?”

“Well I successfully made the raptor transfigurations permanent, so they shouldn’t transform back should I die,” I said cheerfully.

“Good on that,” Neville said, frowning at the sad turn for the conversation.

“Also McGonagall suggested that I start doing photography as my ‘new hobby’,” I said.

“Photography?” Neville asked, grinning a little.

“Yeah, I mean, I figure it’s at least worth checking out,” I shrugged.

“I agree,” Neville laughed, “It’s just a surprise. I never would have thought of it. But I guess you do like birds a lot.”

“ _No, really?_ ” I said, snorting.

“Well I support you,” Neville praised, “You can photograph me gardening.”

“I can photograph you doing a lot of things,” I teased, grinning at him. He blushed furiously but grinned back, leaning in and kissing me.

“We have to be careful,” he murmured, “Last time we did this we got caught.”

“We aren’t doing anything,” I teased.

“We’re snogging, which is one step away from shagging for us,” Neville reminded.

“Maybe I just want to snog?” I said, beaming and wiggling in his arms.

“We always start out _just_ wanting to snog,” Neville murmured, his face an amazingly loving expression as he leaned in and kissed me softly, “And we enjoy it so much that we want to _keep_ enjoying it.”

“I don’t see anything wrong with that,” I grinned, leaning up and kissing him once again.

“Well _no_ , but we’re in the _Greenhouse_ , and – oh who am I kidding,” Neville laughed, pulling me in and kissing me more passionately. I moaned softly and dug my fingers into his hair, pulling on it to draw him closer to me. He whimpered in response and wrapped his arms tightly around me, our lips moving roughly against one another as I gripped him tightly and pulled him roughly into the supply closet.

“Okay,” he panted, “We know what happened last time we did this –“

“Is Professor Abbot even around?” I asked, beaming at him and teasing his hair out of his ponytail.

“Well, no,” Neville admitted, “She’s teaching a class in Greenhouse 1.”

“So quite far away,” I grinned.

“Quite far away indeed,” Neville laughed, leaning in and kissing me softly. I tugged on his hair gently, making him whimper into my mouth and dig his tongue deep into it. I groaned in response and ran my hands lovingly down his neck to hold his shoulders under his shirt, making him sigh happily. He started kissing me on the neck, his head buried between my neck and shoulder, making me gasp and whimper softly. Neville wrapped his arms tighter around me and pulled me closer to him, me moaning his name and pulling his head back up to kiss him passionately.

He moaned into my mouth and pulled away from the kiss, breathing heavily, “This probably still isn’t a good idea.”

“Again, she’s quite far away,” I teased, my voice breathless. His hands were running down my sides to grip my hips, much against the sentiment of his words.

“Bloody hell,” Neville groaned, “You’re irresistible.”

“As are you,” I breathed, pulling him in for a kiss, “Quite irresistible.”

Neville just moaned in response and kissed me passionately, our lips moving furiously against each other as he struggled to get his hands under my shirt in the tightly enclosed space.

~~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~****~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Neville managed to wriggle my shirt off over my head, trailing kisses down my neck and to my chest, nibbling on the soft skin poking out from my bra. I eagerly reached for his shirt and pulled it off of him, now nibbling my way across his chest and licking his nipples softly. He groaned and reached for my back, holding tightly to it as I nipped and sucked my way down his stomach, nibbling at the base of it that was next to the waistline of his pants.

“Oh Mags,” he groaned, holding onto my hair as I licked his hips. I giggled and reached for his pants, eagerly unbuckling his buckle and pulling them down off of his hips and legs. He eagerly kicked them off and reached for mine, pulling them slowly as he started sensuously kissing my hips and stomach. Neville nibbled along my stomach flab, licking and sucking on it adoringly as I moaned and whimpered under his touch.

It was hard to find anywhere I could rest my weight on in the room; everything was flimsy shelves, so I had to keep myself upright even though all I wanted to do was melt underneath his touch. He started caressing my thighs, his fingers dancing along them as I whimpered, pulling on his hair and running my fingers through the curly mess. He hopped back up and kissed me passionately, his tongue digging deeply into my mouth as I raised my leg up around his hips and pulled him in tightly. He moaned my name quietly, kissing me as roughly as he could and digging his fingers into my hair. I started grinding my hips against his, needing to feel more of him as we entangled ourselves in the closet, Neville reaching around now below my hair to unhook my bra. He slowly took it off of my shoulders, staring deeply into my eyes as he did so.

“Have I mentioned recently,” he whispered, his voice husky and his breath hot and ragged, “How beautiful you are?”

“I believe so,” I murmured, leaning up and kissing him long and slow, “Have I mentioned recently, how beautiful _you_ are?”

“Yes,” Neville nodded, “But you can never mention it enough.”

I captured his lips in a passionate kiss as his hands went to my breasts, kneading them slowly and lovingly. He gently rolled him around as his thumbs found my nipples, rubbing circles around them as I whimpered and squirmed in his arms. He wrapped one of his arms around me to pull me closer to him as his other hand went back to massaging, slowly and gently rolling the soft skin in his large hand. I cried out quietly as he kissed me, prompting him to stop kissing my lips and trail kisses down my neck instead. He went down to my chest and lapped at my breast and nipple.

“Oh Neville,” I moaned, wriggling and squirming with need. He growled in response and trailed kisses to my other breast, sucking on it heavily as I ground my hips against him harder. Neville whimpered softly and reached for my underwear, eagerly pulling it off and rubbing his fingers slowly and gently against my clit. I cried out happily and gripped his shoulders, kissing his lips as his face returned to mine. We kissed each other passionately as his hand moved against me, me growing wetter and more eager by the second. I eagerly reached for his underwear and pulled them off of his hips, grabbing his penis and rubbing it softly. He groaned eagerly and we rubbed each other for a few minutes more, me shivering and shaking in his arms as he did the same in mine.

I raised my leg around his waist and looked deeply into his eyes, positioning myself so he could slide in easily.

“Have you taken a potion recently?” he painted, looking pained at his own hesitation.

“Shit, no,” I admitted, “There should be one in my bag, I always carry one with me for… emergencies.”

“Emergencies?” Neville grinned, letting go of me and digging through my bag, finding the vial and handing it to me. I eagerly drank it, looking back at him and wiggling my eyebrows.

“You know,” I breathed, pulling him in for a long and passionate kiss, “Like me _just needing_ to have you – right – this – second.”

As I said it, I angled my hips around his again and he eagerly slid into me, moving back and forth inside of me as I moaned in desperation. We returned to snogging heavily, our tongues wrapping around each other as I moved my hips slowly and hard against his, him eagerly humping deeper and deeper inside of me. I whimpered as he stretched me out further and further, filling up every corner of me and overwhelming me with the feeling of him. Everything was him – the smell of his sweat, the smell of the dirt, the feeling of his skin underneath mine and inside of me. I groaned and cried out desperately, moving against him faster now, my body on fire with the pleasure of his movements.

“Oh Mags,” he groaned, leaning in and sucking on my neck.

“Oh Nev,” I whimpered, my voice high-pitched, my nails digging deeply into his buttocks and forcing him deeper and deeper inside of me. He whimpered with me, sucking now on my lip as we rammed our hips together in unison, him pressing up against my walls and making me shiver and shake with pleasure. I screamed softly, amazed at how close I felt to him, needing more of him – more and more and more as he rubbed up inside of me.

He gripped me tightly, looking deeply into my eyes and lifting me up so that I was straddling him, him ramming into me and holding me up at the same time. I cried out with pleasure and wrapped my legs tightly around him, holding on for dear life as we ground against each other. He was so deep inside of me I could barely see straight – not that I could ever think straight – and I cried out at the top of my lungs.

“Nev – Nev – Nev,” I moaned, getting close as the pleasure built up inside of me.

“Maggie,” he responded, whimpering and moaning and trembling in my arms, “Oh – oh –“

We kept ramming into each other, roughly humping as he tried to get deeper inside of me, him with every passing rub growing harder as I grew wetter, and more pliable. We were screaming together in pleasure, our eyes never leaving each other’s faces, unable to think about anything else as we climbed up towards the hight of ecstasy.

I screamed with pleasure as I exploded around him, my walls closing in and squeezing him as tightly as they could, squeezing and releasing and squeezing again. He screamed in response and exploded with me, hot liquid shooting up inside of me and dripping back down my walls and down my legs. I whimpered breathlessly and collapsed against him, him holding me up weakly and leaning against the shelves.

“Oh Mags,” he whispered, “I love you so much.”

“I love you so much,” I whimpered, taking a hold of his face in my hands and kissing every inch of it softly. He giggled underneath my kisses and stroked my face, staring deeply into my eyes with love. I gave him another long, passionate kiss, and removed him from inside of me, sliding off and standing on my own feet before he knocked the shelves off of the walls.

~~~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~~**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**~*~****~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Well that was fun,” Neville panted, pulling back on his clothes and grinning at me.

“And a long time coming,” I giggled, “I’ve wanted to do that in here for months.”

“Oh I’m aware,” Neville rolled his eyes, looking down at his watch, “Abbot should be in here any moment, though, we should probably leave.”

“Alright,” I said cheerfully, hopping out of the closet with him and going back to his station. He grabbed his bag and we walked out onto the grounds, holding hands tightly and beaming at each other lovingly.

“You’re brilliant, I just feel I need to say,” Neville said, leaning over and kissing me on the head.

“As are you,” I laughed, “I love you, so much.”

“I love you so much,” Neville murmured back, leaning in and kissing me softly as we entered the castle again.

“Ah, there you are, Miss Johnson,” McGonagall greeted, “Longbottom, _please_ extricate yourself for a moment.”

Neville pulled away from me and grinned, not even blushing, “Hi Professor.”

McGonagall muttered something that sounded like “shameless” before pulling out a camera and handing it to me.

“We have some old ones in the castle from former students who, for whatever reason, leave them behind,” she explained, “This is the newest one, as far as I can tell.”

“Thanks,” I grinned, “I’ll try it out.”

“If you find you like it you can go and get your own camera,” McGonagall said, “I hope it’s what you’re looking for.”

I nodded and went outside cheerfully, Neville following me as we went to the edge of the forest.

“Do you have any idea how to use that thing?” he asked as I looked up into the trees, frowning.

“Not particularly, no,” I said, “It’s process, right?”

“I suppose, I just think you should ask the Room of Requirement for some books to study from, especially before you try to develop film,” Neville laughed.

“Well fine,” I stuck my tongue out at him, walking through the woods slowly, “But I want to try it out first.”

“This should be good,” Neville chuckled, and I reached over to flick him in the arm. He leaned over and kissed me, grinning into my skin.

We walked silently for a while, just along the edge of the forest, not wanting to go too deep in or to scare away anything. The low lying branches were all bare, but there were starting to be the signs of sprouting, little buds that indicated new growth was on the way. I watched the buds in fascination, looking to see the way the color tried to break through the brown surrounding the bud, how green was literally forcing its way back into the world.

I pulled out the camera and pointed it at the buds, waiting for my hand to grow steady. It was shaking rather heavily, which was annoying – was I nervous or just a shaky person?

“I can’t hold it still,” I muttered in annoyance.

“You’re never still,” Neville reminded.

“Fucking PTSD,” I grunted, “Can I look at you for a minute?”

“If you wanted to stare at me for the rest of your life I’d let you,” Neville reassured, “But seriously, go ahead.”

I put down the camera and stared at him, my hands becoming more steady as I just relaxed and focused on Neville’s soft, loving face. I pulled the camera back up to my eyes and watched the bud for a little bit more, my hands finally still as my nerves were calmed. I waited another minute before snapping a photograph, pulling back from the plant bud and smiling.

“Aren’t I supposed to be the one looking at plants?” Neville teased.

“Do _you_ hear any birds?” I snorted. We stood there in silence for a minute, me listening carefully. I could hear branches snapping and frogs croaking, and it soothed me – but no birds.

We started walking together through the forest again, now moving deeper into it, trying to walk as silently as we could. I held his hand loosely, just enjoying the feel in mine, looking around at the woods for other things to photograph.

A soft, low melody hung over the relatively silent wood, small little chirps in the silence. I followed my ears, walking slowly through the woods until I was closer to the sound, looking around calmly as Neville kept back.

I looked up into the trees and saw a small bird, with a little crest on it’s head, sitting there and chirping. I pulled out my camera and watched the bird for another minute, my concentration on the small dinosaur keeping me calm. I snapped the photo, pulling back and just enjoying the bird, as it hopped form the branch and flew into the air.

“Nice,” Neville said, looking at me and grinning.

“Yeah,” I beamed, “Come on, let’s go looking for more.”

“So you’re definitely enjoying yourself, then?” Neville asked.

“Definitely,” I agreed, and we went deeper into the forest. As we went further in, I found more and more birds, beautifully colored and singing their hearts out. I took picture after picture as Neville watched me lovingly and silently, the two of us just enjoying the other’s presence as I went through the woods.

Eventually it started to get dark, and we exited the woods together, me practically skipping with joy.

“It was just so calming,” I said, looking around as dusk fell.

“Oh I could tell,” Neville murmured, “You looked so happy, I wish you could do that all the time.”

I looked over at him and beamed, leaning in to kiss him. We walked up to the castle together then, not saying much of anything, just enjoying each other’s presence. Neville wrapped his arm around my shoulder as we walked, just holding me, as we went to dinner. Hermione and Harry could tell we were in one of our “moods” and left us well enough alone; we then went together to bed, spending the rest of the evening cuddling and kissing and being enveloped in joy.

“I feel like looking pretty today,” Neville said lazily as I woke up two days later, the day previously having been spent in a similar state of love and romantic bliss, his arms behind his head as I looked up at him and rested my head against his arm.

“You look pretty every day,” I murmured softly, kissing him on the elbow.

“Extra pretty, then,” he said, turning on his side and looking at me with a frown, “I haven’t been wearing skirts enough.”

“It’s also been colder than shite and windy to match,” I snorted, “You’d have been crazy to wear a skirt.”

“Well I want to today, and I want to experiment – do you have any foundation or… more face makeup sort of things?” Neville asked.

“I don’t think so, no,” I sighed, “Why do you want that?”

“My cheeks and jaw are very manly. I was going to try and soften them up,” Neville admitted, “See if I like it.”

“I’m sorry Nev – we could look for it next time we’re out and about,” I said, “I have no idea how to do makeup like that, though.”

“Maybe one of our mates will have a better idea?” Neville asked, “Ginny, maybe?”

“Not a bad idea,” I agreed, “You can certainly ask.”

He leaned over and kissed me softly, the two of us happily wrapping ourselves around each other in the bed, kissing slowly and sensually. He mumbled happily against my lips and I mumbled in response, just feeling how loved I was in his arms, basking in the warmth and joy.

Eventually we got up, me going to feed the raptors as Neville started to put makeup on. We both left for breakfast hand in hand, chatting happily about the birds we had seen in the woods lately as we sat down across from Hermione and Harry.

“Apparition Lessons start today,” Hermione said, looking excited.

“Finally,” Harry said, his mouth full of food, “I’ve been wondering when we’d do that.”

“Ugh,” I groaned, “I don’t want to learn how to apparate.”

“But it’ll be so useful!” Hermione protested.

“Yeah, and I hate the feeling of doing it side-along, so I doubt I’ll much like doing it myself,” I grumbled, “Also when were they announced? I didn’t even remember they’d be today…”

“Few weeks ago,” Hermione explained, “You’ve been busy with fighting and other things so you missed it.”

“Figures,” I sighed.

“You’ll be fine,” Neville reassured, kissing me on the top of the head, “It’ll be me who’s bullocks.”

“Oh come off it,” Harry said.

“I’m not good at much, let’s not forget,” Neville rolled his eyes, “At least not at first. I’ll probably splinch.”

“Well don’t write yourself off before it happens,” Hermione scolded, “You’ll have a self-fulfilling prophecy on your hands.”

“Oh _great_ ,” Neville snorted, “Wouldn’t want to _jinx_ myself, now I know my mind is as out to get me as my clumsiness, I’ll _totally_ be able to stop both!”

Hermione scowled at him and I giggled softly towards my breakfast.

“Not to mention I forgot today was the lessons too,” Neville sighed, looking down at himself, “It’s always so easy to wear what I want on a normal day, but great, I’m going to be wearing a skirt and makeup in a room filled with all the sixth years –“

“No one will care, mate, it’s been more than a year since you came out,” Harry reassured.

“And you lead the Queer club,” Hermione reminded, “You’ll be okay.”

Neville scoffed, “Fine, then, there’s going to be an instructor, isn’t there?”

Harry sighed heavily.

“it’ll be fine, love,” I promised softly, “I have your back.”

“Thanks,” he sighed, looking down at me and kissing me softly on the forehead, “I’m just stressed.”

“Well, we’ll get through it,” Hermione paused, “Come on, we have regular class in the morning at least.”

Still, class went by in a blur, now that we knew what was coming at the end of it. All the sixth years filed down to the Great Hall, a hodgepodge of kids who grew up too fast. We were chubby cheeks and awkward proportions, battle scars and broken hearts, mourners and survivors. Children who first played at adults and then were forced to be so; thirty seven kids who should have been forty.

When I was alone, I felt like I had lived through at least two, maybe three, of my lifespans. I didn’t feel seventeen. I felt a hundred.

Surrounded by all the other sixth years – the people my age, more or less – I was reminded of who I actually was.

“How are you lot doing?” Ernie asked, walking up to us, “Looking forward to this?’

“Not particularly,” Neville muttered.

“Same,” I agreed.

“You lot will be fine,” Ernie promised.

“Don’t bother, Ernie, I already tried to reassure them,” Hermione sighed.

“Ahem!” the Ministry official called out to the room. I faced him, watching him stoically. I didn’t much trust the Ministry anymore. He was a small, transparent individual – and I meant literally transparent, almost see through. He was half there.

“Welcome! I am Wilkie Twycross and I will be your Apparition Instructor for the next twelve weeks. Hopefully, in this time you will be prepared for your Apparition tests. Now, apparition is, typically, impossible within the Hogwarts castle, but this prohibition is lifted by the Headmaster, for one hour each week, so that you may practice,” Wilkie explained, “But you cannot apparate outside of the Great Hall, and will hurt yourself should you try.”

I frowned and crossed my arms in front of my chest.

“I would like each of you to place yourselves now so that you have a clear five feet of space in front of you.”

“Oh no,” Neville groaned, as all the students began bashing into each other trying to clear a space. I held onto his arms and kept him next to me, groaning softly myself and pushing Hermione and Harry in front of us. Hermione glared at me in annoyance but complied, Harry snorting softly.

“The important thing to remember,” Twycross shouted as the students finally started to coalesce, “Are the three D’s – Destination, Determination, and Deliberation!” He waved his wand, and wooden hoops appeared in front of every student.

“Oh no,” I echoed, looking over at Neville who had an expression of amusement and horror on his face.

“Step one: Fix your mind firmly on the desired destination,” Twycross explained, “In this case, the interior of your hoop. Kindly concentrate on that destination now.”

I stared at the inside of my hoop, trying to focus on it, but this was probably the most boring thing I could possibly have been thinking about. My mind started to wander towards my camera, and where in the forest I would attempt to take pictures of next. Perhaps, even, the lake… there are usually some waterfowl there…

“Step two, focus your determination to occupy the visualized space! Let your yearning to enter it flood from your mind to every particle of your body!”

I was snapped back to the present, forced to focus on the hoop, groaning quietly to myself. I tried to focus on it, my mind straining, but this just seemed to me to be the most pointless activity.

“Step three – and only when I give the command – turn on the spot, feeling your way into nothingness – moving with deliberation! On my command, now… one –“

Well, wanting to go into nothingness wasn’t something I was unfamiliar with, at any rate.

“Two –“

I focused as much as I could, but I knew it was a lost cause.

“Three!”

I spun on the spot and fell over. Neville fell, too, and on top of me – he was much too heavy, and I groaned in pain.

“Oh geez, Mags, I’m so sorry,” Neville said, quickly getting off me and helping me up.

“It’s fine, just try to angle away from me if you can,” I laughed, kissing him on the cheek.

“No matter,” Twycross said, probably having expected this outcome, “Adjust your hoops, please, and back to your original positions…”

We tried many more times, with nothing of note happening at all. None of us seemed to be able to get into our hoops. On the fifth try, though, there was a crack and screaming in pain. I looked wildly to see Susan in her hoop, and her left leg back next to Ernie; Ernie was shouting in horror. McGonagall, Babbling, Slughorn, and Flitwick quickly converged on her, and with a bang of purple smoke she was reunited with her leg. Ernie quickly enveloped her in a hug, trying to calm her down.

“Splinching, or the separation of random body parts,” Twycross said without a trace of compassion in his voice, “Occurs when the mind is insufficiently determined. You must concentrate continuously upon your destination, and move, without haste, but with deliberation.”

He then demonstrated apparating, but no one else managed to do even a splinch for the rest of the lesson.

“Well, that was about as discouraging as I had imagined,” I said sadly.

“At least he didn’t really make fun of me or anyone else,” Neville said.

“Yeah, because he was practically not a person,” Harry snorted, “Did you see him? He was half here, half in the nothingness, or whatever.”

“Don’t make fun of him,” Hermione scolded. Harry stuck his tongue out at her and then leaned in to kiss her, Hermione giggling happily at that, placated by his affection.

“Well that was an experience,” I paused, “Who wants to go read somewhere and not think about traveling at all?”

“Or at the very least, we won’t think about traveling via apparition,” Neville stuck out his tongue in distaste, “I dunno about you guys, but splinching did _not_ look like fun.”

“Well no, I suspect that having part of your body ripped from the rest of it wouldn’t be much fun,” I giggled.

“Oh come on, I’ve always wanted this scar to be removed from the rest of me!” Harry protested, “Lemme dream you guys.”

Hermione laughed in appreciation as we all went to the Room of Requirement together, talking softly and cheerfully together.

The next day I decided to go down to Dumbledore’s office, needing to plead the case for the Hags. I didn’t have the password, so I waited outside of his door until it opened, surprising him as he existed the room.

“Miss Johnson!” Dumbledore said, “What brings you here?”

“I’m here to talk to you about the situation in the North,” I said firmly, looking at him with determination. Dumbledore frowned.

“Yes, come inside, I have time to talk now,” he nodded. I sat down at his desk, looking at him sternly. I was scared, but determined.

“The hags need our aid,” I said, “Or else they’re never going to stop fighting against our efforts.”

Dumbledore frowned at me, “Are their attacks too much for the riders to handle? According to Shae.”

“They weren’t until Voldemort got riders of his own,” I paused, remembering that he didn’t know I was secretly going up to fight – or at least, that he wasn’t _supposed_ to know that I was secretly going up to fight – and I had to act like I hadn’t been. “And now their attacks on our forces are just too much. We have to negotiate, and by negotiate, I mean meet their demands completely.”

“That’s out of the question –“

“Do you even know what their demands are?” I hissed.

“I am assuming they would like some, if not complete, control over Scottish territory,” Dumbledore sighed.

“They’d like to be allowed to _live_ on Scottish territory,” I said, “That’s it. They don’t need to control it. They just want to be allowed to live in their homeland.”

“Their magic is essentially impossible to hide effectively,” Dumbledore explained, in a slightly condescending tone, “They utilize almost exclusively elementalism and ancient spells of their own devising that mostly affect the weather and the turn of the environment, and how nature _functions_. They have very few small, manageable house spells and much of their magic is tied intimately with their culture and religious practice. To not confide them to where muggles cannot see is to not only guarantee that a muggle will find them, but that they will interfere both with the environment and the natural way of life for their communities.”

“I don’t care,” I said angrily, “Who does the statute of secrecy help, anyway? Certainly not muggles.”

“It helps wixen who wish to be left to their own devices –“

“And being _left to their own devices_ allowed a far-right demagogue to kill people and threaten others! And this wasn’t the land of Anglo-Saxon wixen to begin with. The hags and muggles lived alongside each other – peacefully – for hundreds and hundreds of years before Anglo-Saxons started to get nervous about anti-wixen persecution in the south – and that was just because wixen would attack muggles for sport and the muggles were finally able to fight back!” I spit out before I could stop myself, years of research about the history of the British Isles flowing from me with vitriol, “The hags never did anything like this! Affect crop harvests occasionally, sure, but nothing to make them be targeted! Yet they are the ones who are punished!”

“It’s not enough of a risk to dismantle our entire way of life just for an easier time on the battlefield –“

“It’s about more than that, Professor!” I shouted, unable to stop myself, “It’s about what’s _right_!”

 “This is war,” Dumbledore said sternly, “We aren’t trying to make the world better than it was before war broke out, we’re trying to return to the status quo. We have to prioritize defeating Voldemort and saving lives, and _then_ we can discuss right and wrong.”

I glared at him, “So is this why you’ve been against the protests?”

“ _Precisely_ , Miss Johnson,” Dumbledore scolded, “You and your friends have distracted people from what is important in this war! I’ve let it slide because the Ministry is, in itself, an obstacle, but I am worried it has gotten too far –“

“There is no _waiting_ for justice,” I hissed, standing up and throwing the chair roughly into it’s spot, “The people have waited long enough, why should they be punished because Voldemort came back?”

“The Greater Good,” Dumbledore said firmly, “Is worth fighting for. Is worth putting your own needs on hold for.”

“So that’s why you’re torturing my brother then?” I scowled, “Good to know.” I left angrily, stomping down through the corridors and towards my first class of the day. I was furious – and I didn’t want to be silenced.

“Are you okay?” Harry asked, looking at me in worry.

“I’m just furious, that’s all,” I muttered.

“What happened now?” he sighed.

“Dumbledore is being _pragmatic_ again,” I grunted, “He forgets that his _pawns_ are _real people_.”

“He forgets that we can’t all have level heads,” Harry agreed, “Our last meeting was a mess. He got mad at me for not having the memory, and when I tried to remind him that – well – sometimes it’s hard for me to do things – my brain is just… you know… no… about doing things… he ignored it.”

“He’s neurotypical,” I muttered, “They’re all like that.”

“True enough,” Harry sighed, “What did you want him to do?”

“Promise the Hags they could live in Scotland,” I shrugged, “Then they’ll stop making our fight in the North harder.”

“Ah,” Harry groaned, “And lemme guess – something something something need to focus on Voldemort something something.”

“Yup. I guess he doesn’t see that actively getting the Hags on our side _will_ help to bring down at least the Riders attacking us in the North, but whatever,” I muttered.

“It’s really a shame,” Harry rolled his eyes, “That he can’t get that stick out of his ass.”

I laughed and turned to my books, a little cheered by that, but knowing that my annoyance with the situation would not be so easily dissipated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hahahah so guess who hasn't finished her plan yet? That's right, ME! I'm still working on it but I wanted to get a chapter out for my partner's birthday ^_^ Happy Birthday Max! 
> 
> Please keep the comments coming! I really do appreciate each and every single one.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Changes Everything Deleted Scene: December 25, 1995, London](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5075782) by [Maiasaura](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maiasaura/pseuds/Maiasaura)




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